And he came free. No car, no metal, no cushion, no glass, no hand at his wrist.

His fall was from an immense distance, beyond the ability of his human mind to register. It began at a planet that rotated around a star that was simultaneously binary and solitary because of a tear in space that cut through it, transforming it into a double image. The planet traveled a path that, twice per revolution, intersected a hole in space. When that planet intersected the hole, the writhing species that lived on it could move between. Those that could travel could access other layers of that same world. Other possibilities. Food was abundant, and so was breeding. Those that could see and interact with the tears when they passed by had the advantage.

After a thousand thousand such revolutions, a thousand contests, some began to be able to create and work with their own tears, keeping the subatomic particles with them.

The fall began there and it took him through worlds he couldn’t count. Every revolution of his awareness was a cycle, a species wiped out, spaced out by study, by experimentation, by evolution, by statements. Until he stopped on Earth with a suddenness that almost shattered his mind.

He was both participant and observer when the landing happened. When the alien matter came to rest, then settled to watch and study humanity. It began to pull together a golden-skinned body.

That’s right, he thought, because he couldn’t speak aloud.

I triggered then. I saw things. And because every bit of power we use comes from them, some of us, like me, come from places closer to where they hold and store events like this.

I don’t supposed I could ask a question?

He pushed the idea out there, knowing he might be the only one able to ask at this vantage point.

[Question]

There was nobody and nothing to answer.

A shame. A worry. If somehow humanity decided to forgive parahumans their distance, then he would wake up and he would need to address the last remaining problems.

What had the Titan Fortuna been drilling for? Had she been cutting away? Sabotaging? What did a force that wanted to continue this cycle and preserve all data get out of cutting away portions of that data?

[Question], he insisted, straining with his all, pulling on every instinct and nuance he had picked up from seeing thousands of expressions of agents over the years.

No answer. There was nobody and nothing left to answer.

“Damn it! Damn you!”

The ‘trigger event’ ended, and he fell backwards, his breath stolen away by pain.

His fingers found the grip of a baseball bat, and he realized where he was.