In a distant future humanity achieved such a level of technological advancement it was able to breach the borders of three-dimensional reality and move to the multiverses of multidimensions. But some of us were too afraid to move on. So, they stayed...
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The universe is infinite and conformal in all directions. What do I understand in this statement? Only that there is no end to all this nonsense. That's what I thought when I served in the troops of the Pure Empire of Out. And so, after 10 years of service, I finally reached the rank of corporal and was assigned a four-dimensional dreadnought Soaring Glory.
The peculiarity of this dreadnought was its simultaneous presence in the entire time span of our three-dimensional universe. It was controlled by AI from the fifth dimension. How the Outs achieved such a privilege from the Central Computator is hard to imagine. For me, this meant that I could enter the bridge of the ship at the base of the Squeamish Eagle and move directly to the place where the ship fell into a black hole. Into my black hole. And no, no, not black at all. And not a hole. Into the most mysterious anomaly of multi-dimensions of the multiverse. All with the prefix multi. As a child, I loved cartoons. Animation occupied me more than other media, because it had access to the conventionality of space-time much like the one in which we live now. Perhaps I had a premonition of something.
The enthusiasm of all those who were sent on the Soaring Glory to the cold unknown of the anomaly was amazing. The Outs congratulated each other heartily. Among the high command, and even among junior officers, there was an opinion that they would finally stop being hostages of the Central Computator and build their own world, far from the immortal and multidimensional entities who left the only true path – the path of death.
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Of course, if I was discovered as an immortal, I would immediately be sent to a pocket punishment cell and my rank would be taken away. But the documents that Cache provided me, who kept in touch with those Outs for whom Khton was freelancing, were so good that I myself sometimes began to forget who I am. This is not surprising, the propaganda machine of the Outs worked with a bang. Listening to their speeches every morning after the anthem, hanging on the crossbar, you will not notice how fast you'll begin to despise the immortals and all this Angelic spawn.
It wasn't just the papers that influenced my secrecy. But also a Demon. A multidimensional code planted by a Rat in the imprint gave me the opportunity to temporarily age so that my tests would not arouse suspicion of the medical commission. In addition, I could become a blind spot in any tracking subnet, which allowed me to move freely in portals, being completely invisible to the Central Computator. That's why I decided to visit the launcher one last time before the jump.
