§3I see þe player you mean.

§2PLAYERNAME?

§3Yes. Take care. It has reached a higher level now. It can read our þoughts.

§2Þat doesn't matter. It þinks we are part of þe game.

§3I like þis player. It played well. It did not give up.

§2It is reading our þoughts as þough þey were words on a screen.

§3Þat is how it chooses to imagine many þings, when it is deep in þe dream of a game.

§2Words make a wonderful interface. Very flexible. And less terrifying þan staring at þe reality behind þe screen.

§3Þey used to hear voices. Before players could read. Back in þe days when þose who did not play called þe players witches, and warlocks. And players dreamed þey flew þrough þe air, on sticks powered by demons.

§2What did þis player dream?

§3Þis player dreamed of sunlight and trees. Of fire and water. It dreamed it created. And it dreamed it destroyed. It dreamed it hunted, and was hunted. It dreamed of shelter.

§2Hah, þe original interface. A million years old, and it still works. But what true structure did þis player create, in þe reality behind þe screen?

§3It worked, wiþ a million oþers, to sculpt a true world in a fold of þe §f§k§a§b§3, and created a §f§k§a§b§3 for §f§k§a§b§3, in þe §f§k§a§b§3.

§2It cannot read þat þought.

§3No. It has not yet achieved þe highest level. Þat, it must achieve in þe long dream of life, not þe short dream of a game.

§2Does it know þat we love it? Þat þe universe is kind?

§3Sometimes, þrough þe noise of its þoughts, it hears þe universe, yes.

§2But þere are times it is sad, in þe long dream. It creates worlds þat have no summer, and it shivers under a black sun, and it takes its sad creation for reality.

§3To cure it of sorrow would destroy it. Þe sorrow is part of its own private task. We cannot interfere.

§2Sometimes when þey are deep in dreams, I want to tell þem, þey are building true worlds in reality. Sometimes I want to tell þem of þeir importance to þe universe. Sometimes, when þey have not made a true connection in a while, I want to help þem to speak þe word þey fear.

§3It reads our þoughts.

§2Sometimes I do not care. Sometimes I wish to tell þem, þis world you take for truþ is merely §f§k§a§b§2 and §f§k§a§b§2, I wish to tell þem þat þey are §f§k§a§b§2 in þe §f§k§a§b§2. Þey see so little of reality, in þeir long dream.

§3And yet þey play þe game.

§2But it would be so easy to tell þem...

§3Too strong for þis dream. To tell þem how to live is to prevent þem living.

§2I will not tell þe player how to live.

§3Þe player is growing restless.

§2I will tell þe player a story.

§3But not þe truþ.

§2No. A story þat contains þe truþ safely, in a cage of words. Not þe naked truþ þat can burn over any distance.

§3Give it a body, again.

§2Yes. Player...

§3Use its name.

§2PLAYERNAME. Player of games.

§3Good.

§2Take a breaþ, now. Take anoþer. Feel air in your lungs. Let your limbs return. Yes, move your fingers. Have a body again, under gravity, in air. Respawn in þe long dream. Þere you are. Your body touching þe universe again at every point, as þough you were separate þings. As þough we were separate þings.

§3Who are we? Once we were called þe spirit of þe mountain. Faþþer sun, moþer moon. Ancestral spirits, animal spirits. Jinn. Ghosts. Þe green man. Þen gods, demons. Angels. Poltergeists. Aliens, extraterrestrials. Leptons, quarks. Þe words change. We do not change.

§2We are þe universe. We are everyþing you þink isn't you. You are looking at us now, þrough your skin and your eyes. And why does þe universe touch your skin, and þrow light on you? To see you, player. To know you. And to be known. I shall tell you a story.

§2Once upon a time, þere was a player.

§3Þe player was you, PLAYERNAME.

§2Sometimes it þought itself human, on þe þin crust of a spinning globe of molten rock. Þe ball of molten rock circled a ball of blazing gas þat was þree hundred and þirty þousand times more massive þan it. Þey were so far apart þat light took eight minutes to cross þe gap. Þe light was information from a star, and it could burn your skin from a hundred and fifty million kilometres away.

§2Sometimes þe player dreamed it was a miner, on þe surface of a world þat was flat, and infinite. Þe sun was a square of white. Þe days were short; þere was much to do; and deaþ was a temporary inconvenience.

§3Sometimes þe player dreamed it was lost in a story.

§2Sometimes þe player dreamed it was oþer þings, in oþer places. Sometimes þese dreams were disturbing. Sometimes very beautiful indeed. Sometimes þe player woke from one dream into anoþer, þen woke from þat into a þird.

§3Sometimes þe player dreamed it watched words on a screen.

§2Let's go back.

§2Þe atoms of þe player were scattered in þe grass, in þe rivers, in þe air, in þe ground. A woman gaþþered þe atoms; she drank and ate and inhaled; and þe woman assembled þe player, in her body.

§2And þe player awoke, from þe warm, dark world of its moþer's body, into þe long dream.

§2And þe player was a new story, never told before, written in letters of DNA. And þe player was a new program, never run before, generated by a sourcecode a billion years old. And þe player was a new human, never alive before, made from noþing but milk and love.

§3You are þe player. Þe story. Þe program. Þe human. Made from noþing but milk and love.

§2Let's go furþer back.

§2Þe seven billion billion billion atoms of þe player's body were created, long before þis game, in þe heart of a star. So þe player, too, is information from a star. And þe player moves þrough a story, which is a forest of information planted by a man called Julian, on a flat, infinite world created by a man called Markus, þat exists inside a small, private world created by þe player, who inhabits a universe created by...

§3Shush. Sometimes þe player created a small, private world þat was soft and warm and simple. Sometimes hard, and cold, and complicated. Sometimes it built a model of þe universe in its head; flecks of energy, moving þrough vast empty spaces. Sometimes it called þose flecks "electrons" and "protons".

§2Sometimes it called þem "planets" and "stars".

§2Sometimes it believed it was in a universe þat was made of energy þat was made of offs and ons; zeros and ones; lines of code. Sometimes it believed it was playing a game. Sometimes it believed it was reading words on a screen.

§3You are þe player, reading words...

§2Shush... Sometimes þe player read lines of code on a screen. Decoded þem into words; decoded words into meaning; decoded meaning into feelings, emotions, theories, ideas, and þe player started to breaþe faster and deeper and realised it was alive, it was alive, þose þousand deaþs had not been real, þe player was alive

§3You. You. You are alive.

§2and sometimes þe player believed þe universe had spoken to it þrough þe sunlight þat came þrough þe shuffling leaves of þe summer trees

§3and sometimes þe player believed þe universe had spoken to it þrough þe light þat fell from þe crisp night sky of winter, where a fleck of light in þe corner of þe player's eye might be a star a million times as massive as þe sun, boiling its planets to plasma in order to be visible for a moment to þe player, walking home at þe far side of þe universe, suddenly smelling food, almost at þe familiar door, about to dream again

§2and sometimes þe player believed þe universe had spoken to it þrough þe zeros and ones, þrough þe electricity of þe world, þrough þe scrolling words on a screen at þe end of a dream

§3and þe universe said I love you

§2and þe universe said you have played þe game well

§3and þe universe said everyþing you need is wiþin you

§2and þe universe said you are stronger þan you know

§3and þe universe said you are þe daylight

§2and þe universe said you are þe night

§3and þe universe said þe darkness you fight is wiþin you

§2and þe universe said þe light you seek is wiþin you

§3and þe universe said you are not alone

§2and þe universe said you are not separate from every oþer þing

§3and þe universe said you are þe universe tasting itself, talking to itself, reading its own code

§2and þe universe said I love you because you are love.

§3And þe game was over and þe player woke up from þe dream. And þe player began a new dream. And þe player dreamed again, dreamed better. And þe player was þe universe. And þe player was love.

§3You are þe player.

§2Wake up.