Set during Gameknight, taking the Source back to the Physical world at the end of book 3!!! Just had a bit of an idea in my head after the Ranting with sieturtle

Just a bit of a Dabble and missing scene!!

_____

"I can survive this, I am Gameknight999, the USER-THAT-IS-NOT-A-USER."

And then Darkness claimed him.

Wrapping around him like a silken sheat, the cool fabric soothing the acheing of his strained existence, cradling him, comforting him from the warpping shift in realities. He sunk into the fabric, focusing on the sounds of fabric moving around him, the sensation of two figures walking through it.

I see the one that you mean.

A soft voice murmured from behind him, the feeling of wind curessing his cheek

The boy?

Yes. It has reached a higher level now. It can hear us.

That doesn't matter. It thinks we are part of a dream; it will not remember us.

I like this user It played well. It did not give up. 

It is a user with no equal, just as predicted.

The One able to stare at the Reality beyond.

They used to read stories of those they called witches and warlocks, dreamt of flying upon their own wings.

What did this user dream?

He dreamed of sunlight and trees. Of fire and Water. He dreamed he protected. And he dreamed it destroyed. He dreamed it Hunted, and was Hunted. It dreamed of a place to call home. 

Hah, the original interface. A million years old, and it still works. But what true structure did the boy create beyond his original reality?

It worked, with hundreds of others, to sculpt a true world in a fold of the ____

The words warped beyond Gameknight's senses. A confusing jumble of sounds and syllables came from the strong voice

And Crated a___ For____ , in the _____.

He can not hear that yet. 

No, he is not yet ready.

Does it know that we love it? That the universe is kind?

Sometimes, through the noise of his thoughts, it hears the Universe, yes.

But at times, he is sad within the long dream. It creates worlds with no light, and it shivers under a black sun. Sometimes, he takes his sad creation for reality. 

To cure it of its sorrow would destroy it. The sorrow his part of its task. We can not interfere. 

Sometimes, when within deep dreams, I want to tell them they are so much more. Sometimes, i want to say to him of their importance in the universe. Before, when they had not made true connections in a while, I wanted to help them speak the word they fear.

It can hear us.

Sometimes, I do not care. Sometimes, I wish to tell him that this world you take for truth is merely ____  and ______. I wish to tell him that they are the _____ in the ______. They see so little of their reality despite it all. 

And yet He cannot know.

But it would be so easy to tell him…

Too much for this dream. To tell him would prevent his existence. 

I will not tell him how to live.

Gameknight listened to the soft words, his fingers twitching with numbing pinpricks as the voices went on,

He is growing restless. 

I will tell him a story then, 

But not the truth. 

No, a story that contains the truth safely, one that is in the safe cage of words. It will not be the burning naked truth.

Give it his Body again. 

Yes. User…

Use its name.

Tommy Feynman, Gameknight999, User-that-is-not-a-user.

Good.

Take a breath, now. Take another. Feel air in your lungs. Let your limbs return. Yes, move your fingers. Have a body again, under gravity, in air. Awaken in the long dream. There you are, little one. Your body touched the universe again at every point, as though you were separate things. As though we were separate things.

"Who are you" Gameknight wisperd into the fabric of the world,

Who are we? Once we were called the spirit of the mountain. Father sun, mother moon. Ancestral spirits, animal spirits. Jinn. Ghosts. The green man. Then gods, demons. Angels. Poltergeists. Aliens, extraterrestrials. Leptons, quarks. The words change. We do not change.

We are the universe. We are everything you think isn't you. You are looking at us now, through your skin and your eyes. And why does the universe touch your skin, and throw light on you? To see you. To know you. And to be known. I shall tell you a story.

Once upon a time, there was a boy.
The boy was you, Gameknight.
Sometimes it thought itself human, on the thin crust of a spinning globe of molten rock. The ball of molten rock circled a ball of blazing gas that was three hundred and thirty thousand times more massive than it. They were so far apart that light took eight minutes to cross the gap. The light was information from a star, and it could burn your skin from a hundred and fifty million kilometers away.

Sometimes the player dreamed it was a miner, on the surface of a world that was flat, and infinite. The sun was a square of white. The days were short; there was much to do; and death was a temporary inconvenience.

Sometimes the boy dreamed it was lost in a story.

Sometimes the user dreamed it was other things, in other places. Sometimes these dreams were disturbing. Sometimes very beautiful indeed. Sometimes, the user woke from one dream into another, then woke from that into a third.

Sometimes, the boy dreams he hears a story.

Let's go back.

The atoms of the boy were scattered in the grass, in the rivers, in the air, in the ground. A woman gathered the atoms; she drank and ate and inhaled; and the woman assembled the boy, in her body.

And the boy awoke, from the warm, dark world of its mother's body, into the long dream.

And the boy was a new story, never told before, written in letters of DNA. And the boy was a new program, never run before, generated by a sourcecode a billion years old. And the boy was a new human, never alive before, made from nothing but milk and love.

You are the boy. The story. The program. The human. Made from nothing but milk and love.

Let's go back further.

The seven billion billion billion atoms of the user's body were created, long before this game, in the heart of a star. So the boy, too, is information from a star. And the user moves through a story, a forest of information planted by a man called Julian, on a flat, infinite world created by a man named Markus, that exists inside a small, private world created by the one,  who inhabits a universe saved by...

Shush. Sometimes, the boy created a small, private world that was soft, warm, and simple, and sometimes hard, cold, and complicated. Sometimes, it built a model of the universe in its head, flecks of energy moving through vast empty spaces. Sometimes, it called those flecks "electrons" and "protons."

Sometimes it called them "planets" and "stars."

Sometimes, it believed it was in a universe made of energy, made of offs and ons, zeros and ones, and lines of code. Sometimes, it thought it was within a game. Sometimes, it believed it was hearing the Universe.

You are the one, hearing the universe...

Shush... Sometimes the user reads lines of code on a screen. Decoded them into words; decoded words into meaning; decoded meaning into feelings, emotions, theories, ideas, and the boy started to breathe faster and deeper and realized it was alive, it was alive, those thousand deaths had not been real, the boy was alive.

You. You. You are alive. Truly alive.

and sometimes the boy believed the universe had spoken to it through the sunlight that came through the shuffling leaves of the summer trees

and sometimes the User believed the universe had spoken to it through the light that fell from the crisp night sky of winter, where a speck of light in the corner of the boy's eye might be a star a million times as massive as the sun, boiling its planets to plasma to be visible for a moment to the boy, walking home at the far side of the universe, suddenly smelling food, almost at the familiar door, about to dream again

and sometimes the User-that-is-not-a-user believed the universe had spoken to him through the zeros and ones, through the electricity of the world, through the fabric of the world at the end of a long dream

and the universe said I love you

and the universe said you have played the game well

and the universe said everything you need is within you

and the universe said you are stronger than you know

and the universe said you are the daylight

and the universe said you are the night

and the universe said the darkness you fight is within you

and the universe said the light you seek is within you

and the universe said you are not alone

and the universe said you are not separate from every other thing

and the universe said you are the universe tasting itself, talking to itself, reading its own code

and the universe said I love you because you are love.

When the story was over, the boy woke up from his dream and began a new one. They dreamed again, dreamed better. The user was the universe, and the user was love.

You are the one we spoke to.

Wake up little one.

___________