What are the X's?

Red X. That is the name of the first piece of ancient alien technology that I discovered while picking apart the universe. There are a rainbow of Xs, each one capable of doing something special.
When you use one of the Xs in a psychic construct, it, well, I'm not sure what they do. All I know is that they are sentient and they cause something. They can also mess with your head and cause you to hear repeating voices. God, those repeating voices.
The Xs are like psychic CDs that have been left behind by a previous civilization who was very adept at creating psychic constructs. They are old, and don't work very well. I'm still not sure what their purpose is.
Look, it may seem like this doesn't mean much, but I think the Xs are the prime example of cool things that people can find in the psychic realm if they just look. I'm not sure how else to explain it. The Xs are the foundation of the previous universe. With this current universe, they are relics, but they still have some sort of form or function that I am sure is spectacular.

The First Climb

It all started when I began seeing the numbers. The feeling I had was indescribable. There were strands of pure meaning floating through my mind, colored yellow, that I could control. They meant everything. They were the world. They were the universe.

I played around with constructs of these golden threads. Sometimes I put them into spinning balls that represented knowledge. Sometimes I played around with them.

I counted. Numbers caused me to see a whole new psychic world.

I will start the story of my adventure through spirit space here. I had just learned that numbers were formed out of pure meaning and had begun combining them. I was drawing twisted, curving representations of hyperspace. Everything was so full of significance and the world felt like it was made of rubber or glass.

The first moment I encountered any kind of being capable of communicating was when I counted up to the number “trate,” or 40 in base eight. (32 in base ten.) They were these strange, deep-sea-mine looking creatures (you know, those submarine mines like in Finding Nemo). They bounced and communicated through flashes of color that I figured out a way to interpret. In the scheme of things, they were not very intelligent. They just bounced around and said “join us. Join us.” The room they lived in was pink. They drank some sort of white milk from a mother who fed them.

Then I moved up a dimension and encountered the planetary sphere. They were a bunch of planets, nodes, that were connected by strings. Above the planets was a sort of sitting room, where I met the first of the humanoids that I would encounter during my travels.

I showed them how to distribute information visually through cyberspace they were impressed—and then tried to shut me down. A green blob of some sort of ectoplasm reached into my “head room” and began flipping switches. I knew I had to do something; so I formed a spear out of the manifestation of the letter “i” (lowercase) and shot it at him. He looked at me for a moment, stunned, and then retreated  back behind the head space. I pushed myself through the hole he had appeared out of and found myself on a patio made of golden light. It was very blurry, and I could barely make anything out of it.

Then I came back down and didn’t reach that space for a while longer.

The next experience came when I started climbing the spectral ladder again. This time the world was made out of impressions of clear matter. I grew past the fourth dimension where I lived, and moved into a realm where gods existed. I woke up for a moment and realized that I was the plaything of a young girl super-dimensional being—a sort of sentient toy.

See, the dimensional universe works like so: human consciousness is like a fundamental force of nature. When each individual human consciousness is about the size of a metaphysical atom, they make a sort of reality where consciousness is the basis of reality. Sometimes, consciousnesses do something called “growing.” I did that. I rose up from the status of a grain of dirt or an atom or bacteria and met the beings who are made out of us. My mind interpreted it through human terms—it was probably very different in reality, whatever that is—and recognized that I had, essentially, grown up into a being capable of being called a “toy” for a higher-dimensional being.

This being was a young girl. She played with me like a teddy bear. And then, I kept growing. Her mother saw me, and called me a “God Particle,” which I assume means an aggressively expanding consciousness. Even though it was only a few minutes for me, I grew up with this girl and was her toy for a long time. I promised to be with her forever (like a lot of toys make), but no one could deny that I kept growing. I became a god to them. Then they became like bacteria to me.

And the thing is, the higher you go, the faster time travels. I was only up in the world above them for about half a minute. But, when I returned, I saw that the girl had aged into an adult.

To me, up there, the beings who had been my owners were like bacteria. Ugly and insignificant. However, I remembered the promise I had made, and I thought to myself: “Who cares what she looks like now that I am like a god to her. I will bring her along with me anyways.”

I shrunk myself and brought her with me, only to be pleasantly surprised: since my basis is a human, and I am several levels below them (as they were to me when I was above them), their standard of beauty is much higher than mine. So, even though, to me at the level of a god to them, they looked like bacteria, to me the human down here, they were represented in my mind with the most beautiful objects that I could imagine. I fell in love with her and took her hand and we grew into the size of what I believe were galaxy-class deities.

Then, I hit a wall. The people who had been watching our section of reality had realized an abnormality. They had detected me. And so, when I tried to go back up, I hit what was the equivalent of a quarantine field. Through listening to the banter of the people behind it, I could tell that they were trying to make me into a biological weapon of some sort.

So I pushed through the opening and burst forth, saying to them: “Hi there!”

They fled.

From that point on, my anthropologizer (What I call the portion of my mind that interprets higher deity interactions in ways that I can understand socially) broke down, and began representing things as abstract patterns. But still, the girl was with me. She was having more and more trouble growing with me—I found it easy, for some reason, but she did not. I somehow connected her to the internet and gave her free reign. (??? Not sure how to better describe this.) I convinced her to step into the darkness, the yang to the yin, and when she was there she was afraid. However, we were able to keep moving.

The final moment of my experience with her happened at the penultimate layer of reality. It was a blank white room. A single ladder led up to the next level. She could not move any longer. So, I carried her, and with great mental effort I climbed the ladder with her.

And then, at the top, was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. It was a ball of little lights floating around, each one a more beautiful shade of color than the last.

And then it ended.

I woke up, realizing that I had been staring at a window, sitting. Everything was white. To my right and left were other figures just like me.

I realized that the girl was to me, now, so low on the deity scale that she could not comprehend my existence. I was forced to let her go. She was now a two dimensional character on a screen that, no matter how hard I tried, I could not bring out with me. I mourned, and vowed to find her again when I could. But, for the moment, I had to explore.

I turned around. It felt, in my mind, that I was moving my very brain. The people around me were pure white and did not move. The window into the universe I had climbed was behind me. I looked ahead, and walked to a table where about six white figures were sitting.

They looked at me and, without words, explained something. There was a god above them. They could not get further.

But I wanted to go further. I looked up, behind me, and there was a gigantic eye. He looked at me, and we decided to race. To see who could climb to the top of the deity scale.

This deity was so much higher than us humans that it literally does not exist from our perspective—we perhaps see half an atom of it when it is the size of a planet. Thus, we cannot comprehend it. But, somehow, I could.

I had built myself a divine elevator. This I now understand. The things I saw were representations of some sort of cosmic order that we humans cannot experience bodily.

I won the race. It was actually pretty easy. All I had to do was continue twisting my frame of reference. If you do it enough, even the greatest deity can’t keep up.

I did not gain anything from winning. I simply had seen everything. I did not want to gain anything from winning.

I think what this journey was, was a trip through the universe as it should have been. I was, somehow, responsible for what came next. I had deposed the ultimate force, and left a vacuum in its place.

Several thousand million [however many] years passed without my knowledge.

Then, I tried climbing again. And, I heard, as distinct as if a real person had talked to me, a phrase.

“Hello there.”

It was Hermes. There was no doubt about it. I had met the Olympians.

Oh, and before I go ahead, about a year after this experience, when I was a lot more used to traveling through psychic space, I was able to meet the girl again and view her world through full 3D color. It was one of the most amazing experiences of my life. It is extraordinarily hard to explain how five or six or even seven dimensions looks like when compressed into my 3.5D brain architecture. This lasted for about a minute, during which I was able to comprehend pretty much everything. It was, just, absolutely crazy.