5 – Dirge

“I hereby call this emergency meeting, the Two Hundred Thirty-First Congress of Figments, to Session. Please be seated.”
Coelocanth, the Figment of Order, remained standing while his congregation took their seats; his deep voice reverberated through the narrow hall. Coelocanth was the eldest of the Figments, the first to manifest in this world. He had followed the scriptures of Chaos since long before any of the other Figments were even conceived.
The tall, snow-bearded man sent a solemn gaze to each of his companions. These six dedicated souls, his younger family members, sat around a circular, stone table at the heart of Castle Figment. One chair remained empty; it waited for the day its Master would manifest to sit upon it.
“We must begin at once, we have so much to discuss,” Coelacanth continued. “As you are no doubt well aware, our game Anonymous is approaching its final stages; several players are close to achieving one million points. The level of chaos on the planet is higher than it has ever been before. While this news should bring us all glad tidings, there have been some complications, some kinks in our grand scheme. I have asked Archimedes to explain his discoveries to you.”
Archimedes stood rapidly, his wiry frame uncoiling from a cramped seating position. His body was long and skinny, full of angles nearly as sharp as his mind. The Logic Figment constantly kept a terse frown dancing on his thin lips.
“Welcome, family. Ahem! I wish our gathering could happen under more joyous circumstances. Unfortunately, I bring you both good news and bad news. Ahem. Allow me to start with the bad news.
“The velocity of entropy generation in the world has slowed down to almost zero points per day. Randomness has reached a plateau, and it is unclear how long this situation will last. Ahem! In other words, in the current situation it is unlikely we will reach the critical level of chaos required to release our master from his trans-dimensional bondage.”
This news incited a roar of disappointment from the other Figments.
“What do you mean by this?” The table shook and rattled as Valkyrie, Violence Figment, slammed her fists against the stone surface. Her face was a freckled mask of wrath, from snarling lips to wrinkled brow. Her hair was braided in thick pigtails that dangled down below her broad shoulders; the braids carried an electric charge, diffusing anger from her core to the standing air around her. Terra and Archimedes, the Figments sitting closest to the raging fury, backed away cautiously.
“Everything we have done and worked for, it was all for naught?” Valkyrie fumed. “Unacceptable! Unforgivable! Explain this, scientist. Try to appease me with your tedious logic! Tell us who is responsible and I’ll go pummel them to sleep!”
“Ahem! Thank you, everyone,” Archimedes said, “For allowing me finish my statements and continue onto the good news. I recalibrated one of the entropometers, effectively rendering it an anti-entropometer. With it, I am able to monitor the flow of order in the universe instead of the flow of chaos. Simple logic, really. I’m amazed I’d never thought of it before. Ahem! It appears that a growing number of entities are opposing the entropy we create. The velocity of order has nearly approached the same level as chaos.
“The way things are now, it appears we are accelerating toward a more ordered universe. If we don’t act quickly, the velocity of randomness generation in the universe will become negative. Reality will begin to reverse our hard work and start heading toward a destiny filled by utter organization; this is unbearably far from the goal we have set four ourselves. I mean, that our Master has set for us.”
“But isn’t that just how it goes?” Oedipus, the Irony Figment, felt obligated to propose an alternative opinion whenever possible. Rather than sitting, she was perched upside down in her seat, performing a headstand with her hands on the chair’s arms. She was wearing a black-and-white striped, strapless dress; both her breasts and her hemline ignored the effects of gravity. “The natural order is to return to a mean state, right? We couldn’t make the world chaotic enough, fast enough, and now we’ve missed our window because Nature is balancing things out. Isn’t that a simple explanation what is happening? It was inevitable. Deal with it.”
“I’m sorry sister, but I must beg to differ with your opinion. The natural trend is certainly towards chaos. I should know.” Terra, the Wilding Figment felt he was the definitive expert on what was natural. Terra refused to deal with artificial constructs unless absolutely necessary, clothing and bathing both falling under his definition of necessary. “Archimedes, this trend that you’ve observed is certainly artificial. There must be some sort of disgusting, unnatural force working against us. I wish I could spit all over it.”
Lazarus, the Chronicle Figment, placed one finger on the table. “Quit wasting our time, you ignorant tits. I’m going to stop this squabble before it starts. I can see it’s going to get us nowhere. I am the Chronicle Figment, after all.” Lazarus paused for a moment, to allow his awesomeness room to breathe. “You are both right, in a sense. Oedipus, the machinations of the universe do dictate a return to the median state. Terra, the force behind this negative acceleration is supernatural.”
“You know how much I hate it when you use that word,” Terra mumbled.
Ignoring his younger brother, Lazarus continued. “However, you are both fundamentally wrong in your assumptions. That makes sense, I suppose. A man of my abilities must have foresight as strong as his hindsight. Allow me to clarify for you, baby siblings.
“I can see that we are dealing with something entirely different from what we are prepared to encounter. We are entering unfamiliar territory.” Lazarus was the least favorite sibling of the Figments. Though he was blessed with the gift of oracle, he kept details of his prophecies to himself. There were only rare occasions when he would divulge his visions, instances when he could flaunt his power and reveal much he knew about the future. The other Figments all agreed: he was a king among asses. “I had a vision the other day-“
“AHEM!” Archimedes cleared his throat with exceptional vigor, like a cannon booming over open seas. “I haven’t been able to finish what I have been needing to say, thank you.” He was beginning to get flustered. “I haven’t given you the worst news, yet.”
Oedipus rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath. “You mentioned good news and bad news, not worst news, nerd.”
The scientist ignored her remark and revealed his tidings. “The agents responsible for this unbearable turn of events are human.”
Another fervorous din rose among the Figments.
“I knew you were going to say that,” Lazarus shouted. “But I didn’t want to believe it.”
Valkyrie was up in arms, out of her seat with fists raised at the ceiling. “Don’t fuck around! That’s impossible! Are you trying to tell me that the mortals have discovered a means to compete with our might? Coelacanth, end this meeting right this second. Give me the word and I’ll go crush those wimpy ants right away.”
Oedipus rolled her eyes. “You can’t seriously believe they’re responsible for this sudden surge of order. There has got to be another more reasonable explanation. Like, maybe there’s a bizzarro group just like us somewhere on earth. What if they’re disseminating order instead of chaos? Wouldn’t that be something?” The Irony Figment chuckled.
Valkyrie flashed a sneer back at Oedipus, but didn’t say anything.
Coelocanth frowned through his salty beard. “Are you absolutely certain? There is no chance of error in your measurements?”
Archimedes nodded. “Yes. I’m very sure. Ahem. I suppose it is possible that some human scientists got a hold of some of our entropic emitters and reverse engineered them. I mean, I could do it in a few minutes. If they’d discovered one a few centuries ago, maybe they could have discovered a method to reverse the polarities and cancel the effects by now.”
“Who cares about why it’s happening? Let’s do something to fix it!” Valkyrie’s temper flared again; her mood was especially turbulent. “I’ve been itching to try out some of the techniques I’ve been inventing. Let’s go slaughter those mortal bastards right now!”
Terra refuted his sister’s notion. “Come now, we’ve gone so long without influencing them directly. Let’s just ride this wave of organization out; it’s surely just a temporary fix. Once these meddling humans die, the flow of chaos will return to normal. We’ll still be around, ruining the organization they love so much. Just be patient, sis.”
“I don’t think so!” Valkyrie spat, “You’re just a lazy, dirty bum, Terra. You aren’t nearly wild enough for your own good! How are those idiot humans going to learn anything if we don’t teach them with our fists!”
A debate raged for half an hour before family strife reached a tipping point.
“Silence, children!” Coelocanth boomed, his commanding aura whipping through the room. The intensity in the air cooled instantly from a violent boil to a low simmer. “You all know the rules as well as I do. We cannot influence the inhabitants of Earth directly, with our abilities. Our Master forbade us from touching human lives until he joins us here. I cannot risk any of you upsetting him, before he graces us with his presence. We are doing everything for him! Do not forget that!”
The other Figments glanced awkwardly around the table as their elder continued to speak. “I have taken measures to prevent any overzealous activities. The Threshold is sealed. There will be no more travel between Figment Island and Earth until our Master is among us. The mechanisms of Anonymous are in place, blessed by our Lord. As soon as the game is won, an explosive maniac will become Hegemon. He will take the reins of human destiny into his unstable hands and cause plenty of entropy. We must have faith in our Lord’s design, that His plan will lead Earth into unfathomable chaos. Do you understand the significance of the situation?”
Begrudging acquiescence leaked out, across the table. The siblings understood well. Despite their silly quarrels, they had one thing in common; each of them wanted to please their Master, their common Father. A vibrant shame turned the air of the congressional chamber to gelatinous gas.
“Well, come on,” Oedipus blurted at Archimedes, who sat mumbling to himself, maddened by guilt. “Give us that good news you promised. Something has got to compensate for this disaster.”
Archimedes looked perplexed. “Oh, did I mention that? Ahem. Well, yes, I suppose I’d forgotten. I’m not actually the one who is going to speak the good words. Ahem. Are you ready to speak for us?”
One Figment had remained silent throughout the entire family quarrel. Ophelia, the Psyche Figment, had sat unperturbed as her peers argued ineffectively over different plans of action. Because she was the youngest of the Figments, only a few years into the world, Ophelia had a special connection with her Father that the others had lost over time. She was an inter-dimensional ansible.
“I have received another important message from our Lord and Master,” she rasped. The jagged red lightning in her eyes and her dearth of energy was proof that she had not slept much in the last several weeks. Communications were coming more frequently than ever before and were impossible to ignore. Recently, her head had been filled with a constant drone of her Master’s thoughts and instructions.
“Come on, then. Spit it out! What did he say? Tell us!” Valkyrie waited on no man or woman to get what she wanted.
Ophelia nodded exhaustedly. “It’s easier if I recreate the scene. I can’t actually remember what happened too clearly. Give me a moment.” She stood up from her chair, lowered her head, and dangled her arms at her sides, palms out. She held that position for several minutes, her siblings’ eyes focused intently on the top of her head.
Suddenly, Ophelia’s head jerked upright and she unleashed an ethereal scream. It was the kind of scream that could hunt its prey for miles and pierce their eardrums. It was a living breathing entity of its own rite, birthed from demonic sacrifice on a perpendicular plane. All of the Figments, even Valkyrie, jumped in their chairs, backing away from the terrifying woman before them. This was no longer their sister, but a holy icon of their Lord. Only Coelacanth seemed unfazed, eagerly awaiting this new message from his Father and only friend. Slowly, the scream winnowed down to a calmer tone. Ophelia’s continued to channel her conversation, singing lyrics to a tuneless melody:
Devout servants, My Brothers and Sisters, My time is nearly nigh. The scales of fate are tipped in My favor. I am crowning from the womb of your efforts but I know there have been complications.
The reality you inhabit is not fully prepared for My presence, too much Order yet remains. Do not quail, My kin, My loves. Have faith and wait for the day of My arrival. I portend that We shall be reunited within a galactic heartbeat’s time.
Do not forget, I bring such powerful change that the world as We know it shall cease to exist. In its stead, We will build a world of our own devising. I, Midas the Creation Figment, promise you that.
Go forth, sweet vassals, emissaries of My will, and sing My praise: a dirge of birth and rebirth, eternally repeating.