Serentiy

You chose this because of your Dad. He spent many nights playing this game when you were younger, always telling you that it was too adult for your young mind. He was right then, but you're older now. You spend the next 6 hours blasting through Bullymongs, Bandits, and Psychos, all enemies you ahve fought before on your own playthrough but this time it is different. You are not grinding for levels, nor are you simply playing a game. You are on Pandora, fighting alongisde a fellow vault hunter to reclaim lost treasure. He plays as Zer0, using his cloaking skill and sniper to pick off enemies while you charge in as Salvador, dual-weilding a pair of shotguns you found. Eventually you stumble across a quest you have never done before. (text-style:"italic")[Symbiosis] is the quest title, you are tasked with slaying a bullymong and bandit duo, no great deal of effort for the pair of you. As you finish up the quest, your mom and sister come into the room, and the family dynamic returns to the usual flow. (t8n-depart: "dissolve")[[Years later, every time you play the game, you still think of this moment|Start]] (set:$serenity to 1)

The tree appears ancient and weary. The branches are twisted around each other, forming a strange tapestry of wood and leaves. The center of the tree is just as trange, the thick roots spiralling upward and outward to form the trunk. The tree is not just one plant, it is multiple, all growing over each other. (if: $serenity is 1) [The tree is every tree that has grown here, forever and for all time until you came along.] (if: $serenity is 0)[As you watch, one of the roots forming the trunk curls outward, snaking closer to you until it blooms into a yellow flower.] (if: $serenity is 1)[The root connecting to the flower now has a twin coiling around it. Budding off from this new branch is a white flower, with a deep orange interior.] (if: $serenity is 2)[The root is now its own trunk, other parts of the tree now coil around it, embracing the new change with love and hope. The flowers at the tip glow brightly in the light of the void, and dance joyfully on the wind. You wish there was another memory to relive, but you know that this part has been completed] (if: $serenity is 0)[(t8n-depart: "dissolve")[[Touch the Flower]]] (if: $serenity is 1)[(t8n-depart: "dissolve")[[Touch the New Flower]]] (t8n-depart: "dissolve")[[Turn your eyes elsewhere|Start]]

Beyond the grass and the dirt beneath your feet, nothing else populates the void. Through as you peer off into the distance, you get the sense that this is intentional. (if: $serenity is 0) [What's more, you can tell that whatever brought you here does not want you to look outside.] (if: $serenity is 1)[The opaque void swirls and dances as you survey the scene. It, without words, asks you to turn back, and look inward.] (if: $serenity is 2) [The void swirls once more, offering before you a small path of clouds leading elsewhere.] (t8n-depart: "dissolve")[[Turn your eyes elsewhere|Start]] (t8n-depart: "dissolve")+(if: $serenity is 2)[[Follow the path]]

You choose this game for yourself. Many times, often after school, you would race through your assignments just to play this game over and over again. Regardless of how many times you finished it, you never got enough time with the Lombax and Robot duo. You recall a time, back in your old home, the shaggy white carpet on the floor, a long couch to relax on, and a window facing the street. You used to play through one of the asteroid sections for hours, your mind struggling to make sense of the changes in perspective and atmosphere, all while you hunted down bolts and upgrades for your cartoonishly overpowered arnsenal. You recall the first time you finished the game, it left off on a cliffhanger and you always wondered how they wrapped things up. At this point, it is too late to find out, but you enjoy playing one last time. (t8n-depart: "dissolve")[[Years later, you can still remember the swish of a Lombax tail|Start]] (set: $serenity to 1)

Your eyes open to a calm milky white void. Surrounding your body is a small patch of green grass, growing from a circle of dirt floating in the air. A gnarled oak tree sits in the center of the island, its roots stretching to envelop the majority of the center. The green leaves rustle from an invisible wind. (if:$serenity is 0) [You feel strange, not scared, but unfamilliar with these surroundings, simply a sense of (text-style:"buoy", "bold")[ calm.]] (if: $serenity is 1) [You feel secured, not worried about thr strangeness of it all. A feeling washes over you, (text-style: "buoy", "bold")[content.]] (if: $serenity is 2) [Your mind and body are accustomed to this place, confusion and fear replaced wholly by (text-style: "buoy", "bold")[serenity.]] (t8n-depart: "dissolve")[[Examine the Tree]] (t8n-depart: "dissolve")[[Examine the world around you]] (set:$serentiy to 0) <audio src="https://yawning-bronze-9mcsrm4mu7.edgeone.app/universfield-cosmic-serenity-238263.mp3" autoplay loop> <script> var audio = document.createElement('audio'); audio.src = "https://yawning-bronze-9mcsrm4mu7.edgeone.app/universfield-cosmic-serenity-238263.mp3"; audio.loop = true; audio.play(); </script>

Your fingers scrape the soft petals but for a moment, and you are pulled into a new world, this one famillair and comforting. A large couch filled with memories of comfort and connection, a leather ottoman with buttons on top, forming low hills in a four by four pattern. You remember this moment, you are in your old home, before all things went away. You sit next to a Playstation 3 connected to a television. Stacked atop the console are a pair of controllers and two games. The first depicts a man in a white mask, poitning two finger guns underneath his chin. Where blood would be are the other characters, ones you instantly recognize. The other depicts an orage cat-like creature weilding a wrench and a small robot with big green eyes next to him. You instanly recognize the cover. [[Borderlands 2]] [[Ratchet and Clank]]

This flower smells of fresh fallen snow, pine needles, and joy. Your fingers brush the underside, and a memory slips from the ether: You see yourself riding the snow, all youthful bravado and vigor. You remember what happens next. This memory glows bright with fear softened by experiences. You also see yourself amidst a forest of pine trees, all perfectly segmented into rows. Responsibility beams from this memory like a spotlight, that, and exhaustion. You were not transported like last time, this feels different, less visceral and more like rediscovering a lost story from your youth. (t8n-depart: "dissolve")[[Snow]] (t8n-depart: "dissolve")[[Pine]]

You begin to ruminate about your time on the snow, and before you realize you find yourself on a pair of skis, small and squirrley, with a helmet that is blocking out all sound. All you feel is the rush of the wind flowing by you as you speed down the hill. This is your first time skiing, your concious mind remembers this moment, the time you learned why turning is important. Before that lesson was learned, you continued to bomb down the slops, slicing through the snow like it was air. You brush past trees, bushes, and people alike in your race to the bottom, you vaguely remember your family is behind you but you don't care. All there is, is speed. Ahead you spy a wooden fence, you remember it says "Trick Park." Youthful bravado takes over, sure this is your first time but maybe, just maybe, you're a natural. You do not slow down, you ignore the sign that cautions against speed. You spy a large jump built of snow, and you do not hesitate. You slam into it and for a glorious moment you are free from gravity, but not from air resistance. Your skis are pulled over your head and you come crashing down hard onto the packed snow underneath the jump. White Noise Sound returns just to hear "Watch out!" as someone's skis leap off of the jump behind you, and delicately tap your helmet as you're attempting to rise. (t8n-depart: "dissolve")[[Return |Start]] (set: $serenity to 2)

Pine, you always enjoyed the concept of pine. The smell, the look, the color. As you muse on your strange love of this tree you find yourself at an old job, a Christmas Tree lot. In the front is a bright red trailer with an awning covering the entrance. The gravel lot is surrounded by wooden posts linked with a metal wire fence. Row after row of pine trees line the lot, Douglas Fir, Noble FIr, and Silvertips are all yours to command. That is, until you hear the truck. This is not a day of selling trees and getting tipped, no, this is a day of hard labor. A full semi truck backs up into an empty space on the lot, the door opens to show five hundred sopping wet trees. Every single one needs to be moved and every single one needs to have a pilot hole drilled in the bottom. What else is there to do but to begin? You work with an eclectic group of gentlemen, all sweaing and saying the most heinous things you have ever heard, but there is love behind it. They all care for each other, behind the bravado and the posturing. Without saying a word, for lets be honest, your jokes would not land with this crowd, you get to work unloading trees. It is hot, sticky, and foggy by the time you are finished hours later. When you came back to this job last time, everyone mentioned that, while they didn't always like you, you worked hard in that moment. They respected that. You respect them for telling the honest truth. (t8n-depart: "dissolve")[[Return |Start]] (set: $serenity to 2)

The path of clouds leads you away from the solace of your island home. In this peaceful reality, a pang of sadness and longing sparks up in your chest. This, like the flowers before, is something tangible to live through, though you know this will be the last. (t8n-depart: "dissolve")[[View the Island one last time]] (t8n-depart: "dissolve")[[Embrace the feeling]]

You turn, viewing your small island for the last time. The tree, now fully grown with its new branches, seems to wave at you in the wind. You return the wave, smiling softly at its presence. There will be others who will find themselves here, and they will grow the tree further. (t8n-depart: "dissolve")[[Embrace the feeling]]

You place your hand to your chest, clutching at the white hot feeling of sadness and longing. When you pull your hand away, you see that in your palm is a small house with the garage attached billowing smoke. This reminds you of your own house which had done this. A moment in time that forever changed the trajectory of your life. It isn't something you want to look back on, is it? (t8n-depart: "dissolve")[[Look Back]] (t8n-depart: "dissolve")[[Push it Away]]

You recall how you felt in that moment. Small, afraid, alone. Your sister was the first to notice something was really wrong, she pointed to smoke outside the TV room. You went to get your mom and dad to warn them, thene verything seemed to blur together. You remember running, grabbing the closest two things next to you, a paintball gun and a switchblade comb. Sirens, loud and wailing. You feeling empty, like someone had scooped out your insides. Fear, your fish was still in there. He survived for another two years after this. A good pet. Anger, after the fire there was not one box of clothes, presents, or condolence cards for you. All you got was a blanket you grabbed and stormed off with. You never learned what happened to it. All of these things wash over you like a plume of heat from the small house. These feelings, much like those from the flowers before, are the sum of everything you have experienced. (t8n-depart: "dissolve")[[Go]]

Screw this, you say to yourself. All that pain and anger isn't who you are, and it isn't something you want to feel right now. You force the burning house back inside of you, feeling every moment from then on. Every new house you stayed in for a few months. The final remodel of the old house, now a high-tech palace. Losing the palace as your Dad moved to Sonoma, and your Mom downsized. The detachment you felt toward everything at all times. It is you, like it or not. That burning house is everything to you and looking back at it doesn't mean you get to escape the feeling of it. (t8n-depart: "dissolve")[[Go]]

The path ends at a small door. The knob is a bright gold and the wood worn and smooth. (t8n-depart: "dissolve")[[Open the Door]]

The door swings open to the outside. In front of you, surrounded by dense forest, is a small pond with a few koi fish lazily swimming about. A pair of stones sits on the close side, the smaller of which is occupied by a cat. Your old cat Yahtzee. She turns, blinks at you, then turns back. She hasn't aged a day since you last saw her. (t8n-depart: "dissolve")[[Sit]] (t8n-depart: "dissolve")[[Examine the clearing]]

You take your seat next to Yahtzee. You know that soon you will see other people here, but for now, you are content to enjoy the quiet. You stroke Yahtzee absentmindedly while thinking of all the memories you experienced in the past few moments. A strange thing indeed. In front of you, you notice a large red book with a dark red binding. It has a cartoon boy with spiky blonde hair and a tiger in a wagon going at high speeds. You read this with your cat many times, each and every one. She always liked looking at the pages. (t8n-depart: "dissolve")[[Read]]

The clearing is small, roughly thirsty feet in diameter. The sky above is a beautiful shade of blue with fat white clouds siwling above. The birds sing in the air as they dart from tree to tree, and the koi fish swim happily through the crystal water. (t8n-depart: "dissolve")[[Sit]]

You begin to read the book, narrating each voice to your cat who curls up in your lap with the book. This feels nice. This feels calm. This feels right. This feels like (text-style: "buoy", "bold")[serenity.] White vapor begins to fill your vision. You smile, for you know you'll be back here soon. (t8n-depart: "dissolve")[[Goodbye |Start]] (set: $serenity to 0)