Surviving Among the Entities

The world my right eye had shown was but an instantaneous moment. We say time flows, but within it time did not flow, and from start to finish the entire process and result was etched into my mind like a single seal.

“The work you were filming, I have observed in some way. They were truly impressive works.”

As such, I had seen a mere instant of the 131,272,211 re-shoots they had filmed, and while I do not remember all of them, I do recall the common point shared by most of the works.

“Works imbued with violence, sex, blood, drugs, gore and twists to deliver catharsis to the audience were quite intriguing. If your works were introduced in the world I live in, they would undoubtedly spark endless debates online.”

Regardless of genre, they ultimately did not lack primal stimulation. As if claiming works without blood, corpses and murder are not true works.

“However, that is excessive. Not all violent works lack artistry. While creating clichés of primal thrills, there are indeed works that imbue violence with new meaning to sublimate it into art.”

Such primal thrills rise quickly but also quickly fade.

“Are the works you are trying to create commercial works? Or artistic works? No, there was no need to ask. Whichever they are, with their excessive stimulation they will likely struggle to be recognized commercially or artistically.”

I lit a cigarette and took a puff.

“A few primal works are fine, but do you think audiences will appreciate if you keep shouting only violence and sex in the same way? No, they will not. Rather, the same repetitive pattern will quickly become stale and make them feel the same way about your subsequent works.”

I deeply inhaled the smoke into my lungs.

“In the end, no one will watch your works. Seeing how you’ve re-shot into the billions, it seems you are overflowing with passion for your works, but please do not take my words lightly and think deeply about them.”

I hoped they would be persuaded by my words to no longer create works drenched in primal violence.

“No response, huh.”

I waited while continuing to smoke, but there was no answer.

“A craftsman is never satisfied until the desired work emerges, always challenging themselves. People call this a craftsman’s spirit and praise their noble patience.”

I had no choice but to find another approach.

“Amateurs sometimes mimic such acts calling it a craftsman’s spirit too. But do you know? A craftsman’s spirit only has meaning when practiced by a true craftsman, it means nothing when done by amateurs. From what I’ve seen, your re-shoots are not much different.”

For now, I should return to the vacant lot.

[You.]

At that moment, a voice came from the sky.

[Hey.]
[You.]
[You brat.]
[Young man.]
[This kid.]

Befitting a troupe, they were not one but many voices ringing out simultaneously.

[Do you really know that much about art?]

The many voices became one.

“Who knows.”

I have knowledge about art. Learning is always important. But I have never directly worked in the artistic field nor created artworks myself.

“But there is one thing I’m sure of.”

That I know better than meaningless primal stimulation.

“Don’t I know better than all of you?”

[Very well.]

Instantly, the air grew heavy.

[So you think you know better? Then create one yourself.]
[We’ll appreciate the work you create.]
[Haha! You mutt, you dare claim to know art better than us?]

I instinctively realized something had taken root within me.

[Create one.]

That like them, I could invite anyone into dreams and control them as I wished.
That the power to wield this dream stage as I desired had taken root within me.

“There are two conditions.”
[Conditions?]
“Yes, first you must not interfere while I am creating. Obviously disrupting the work’s production is forbidden, but even observing it is not allowed. Witnessing the creative process is like being spoiled, reducing the enjoyment and impact when appreciating the finished work.”
[Very well. We accept.]
“Second, the evaluation of the finished work will be done by third parties. If only you evaluate it, it cannot be fair since you have conflicted artistically with me.”

The sky agreed too.

[We will call them too.]
[You call them, and we’ll call them too.]
“Yes, let’s do that.”

And they said:

[If you lose, you will become our eternal actor.]

I nodded in turn.

“I accept those terms.”

The weight pressing down on me vanished. Was that weight their gaze? In any case, it seems my sensory perception in such areas developed along with my enhanced physical abilities.

“Alright then……”

I closed my eyes. The other 98 participants forcibly brought to this place were detected.

“Let’s send them back first.”

Fortunately, the power the troupe had granted me was of a convenient and simple kind that could be easily used like a tool without needing training. With just a few thoughts, everyone except me instantly vanished from this place.

“Alright then……”

It’s time to create the work.

‘But what should I create?’

While I have knowledge about movies and theater, I have never actually created a work before. Knowledge without accompanying practical experience and training cannot be expected to be greatly useful – difficulties were anticipated from the very start.

“….No, wait.”

There’s no need for difficulty. To counter the troupe’s primal stimulation-filled works, I simply need to create the polar opposite work.

‘A pure artistic work devoid of any violence.’

What is art?

‘The creative activity of expressing one’s emotions, thoughts, experiences, and imagination in various forms.’

The audience is entities – the beings the troupe likely intended to present the work to will probably be entities too.

“Art presented by humans to entities.”

I realized this moment was extremely important.

‘An opportunity to inform the entities associated with the troupe about humans through this work.’

If I could inform them of the beauty of humans, the preciousness of humans, the mystery of humans?

‘At the very least, the entities associated with the troupe might be inclined to help humans.’

Charmed by human beauty, they could come to cherish humans like treasured gems.

“Ah.”

Ending my reverie, I immediately used my power. The island vanished and an ordinary city appeared.

‘There will be no dialogue.’

No other actors are needed. I alone as the actor will suffice. Through the power to manipulate dreams, I recorded everything that would unfold from this point onward.

‘It expresses the duality of human communication and miscommunication – that language has no meaning if the other party does not listen, even when expressed verbally.’

I walked and walked through the deserted city. For hours on end I kept walking, agonizing for hours at each intersection over which way to go.

‘It expresses that human life has no destination, that we merely live on, insignificant existences before the myriad crossroads of life.’

Before I knew it, the city had vanished and a desert appeared. As I crossed the desert, I quenched my thirst at each oasis I encountered.

‘In that aimless world, we still find joy in life’s refreshing oases.’

In the desert night, I gazed up at the darkness where countless stars formed the Milky Way. Transcending the boundaries of time and space, I had become one of those twinkling stars.

‘But is it just humans, or all things in this world? Nothing is truly special. Not humans, not the world.’

Amidst the universe, I stripped off my clothes. Presenting the pure human body in full view of the cosmos.

‘And that is precisely why humans are special.’

Nude, I danced through the universe. Gestures and movements inherently devoid of meaning, but imbuing subtle meanings into each motion created choreography that illuminated the world.

‘What makes this meaningless world created by meaningless probabilities amid quantum fluctuations special is the existence of humans.’

I pointed my fingers at the stars. Giving them names with text below, connecting them into constellations to make them meaningful existences.

‘By considering themselves special, humans make everything special. Naming and ascribing meaning, they make every existence in the world meaningful with themselves as the center.’

Towards the dream recording me, I extended my finger.

‘Even if they are entities.’

So entities, would you not look upon us humans with pity and become special existences for us?

“Cut.”

I created a video imbued with such meaning. When everything was finished, I returned to the original island and the video I had created became a small bead resting on my palm.

“Perfect.”

Looking towards the sky, I called out to them.

“I’ve finished filming.”
[Finally.]
[Time to punish you.]
[An amateur daring to mock us.]
[We’ll show you reality’s bitter taste.]

Amidst the commotion, a solemn voice rang out:

[Before calling those who will judge it, we wish to view the work first.]
“Here it is.”

The air grew heavy. I felt their gaze turning towards the bead on my palm.

[……]

After a long silence, they spoke:

[What is this nonsense?]
[You call this a work?]
[Are you mocking us?]
[This isn’t a work!]

I had already predicted such a reaction.

“As expected, you are steeped in dopamine. That is why you cannot recognize art. If it lacks primal stimulation, you can no longer feel stimulated – how lamentable.”
[I see, so your plan was to deliberately provoke us in order to rescue the other participants. What noble self-sacrifice.]
“No, this is a sincere artistic work. Can you not sense the philosophy imbued within?”
[Meaningless, completely meaningless!]

But I should call for impartial judges soon.

‘Calling humans would be unwise.’

With my current power, I could kidnap humans, but this work is meant to be presented to entities. Naturally, I must call entities to judge it.

‘Who should I call?’

I have only met the Suspicious Merchant once so far. While the depth of a relationship does not necessarily correlate with the number of encounters, it still feels too soon to call him.

‘The Girl with Closed Eyes?’

No, the girl said she would only observe me. It’s doubtful she would come even if called, or do anything for me.

‘Then there is only one remaining.’

I closed my eyes and used my power. Vividly recalling that entity I knew through My Mind’s Notebook, I tried summoning it here.

[You madman!]
[What are you doing!]
[You, you!]

At that moment, the troupe seized my power.

[Just who are you trying to call!]

In the instant my power was seized, I sensed it. In that instant, I sensed that entity realizing this place, forcibly entering while destroying everything.

[Oh, insane!]
[The vagabond is coming!]
[The freak is coming!]
[Run! It’s coming!]
[Damn it! Was this its world!? This is a black-listed place! Never coming back!]

Eventually, the sky turned azure blue.

“Fleeting dream, foolish artists, bloodstained maniacs of frenzy, pathetic unappreciated playwrights, arrogant conceited brats.”

A massive azure moon riddled with countless eyes, ears and mouths filled the sky.

“You dare summon me?”

I greeted it first before it was too late, hoping for the pure entity’s untainted evaluation.

“Hello there.”

Hopeful to receive the evaluation of a pure entity unsteeped in dopamine.

“Long time no see.”