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A Dent on Class Nine

(note: goes great with this)


Yelled Ramian. In the depths of his fin-dive into lower dimensions.

The idea with his design, and I mean, you'd kinda have to understand how higher dimensional beings feel:

With there being absolutely no possibility for born intelligence in the higher dimensions, there was no possible way for any being to know if they were accidentally destroying their birth origin through some action. So the layers philosophy was pretty much Universal. At the 14th dimension, you could pretty safely fuck with the next lower 6 dimensions and not fuck up the origin story of anyone sentient there. I mean, it was all increasingly less efficient projectors moving upwards. The trick was moving down. Where time meant so much more.

But a decrease in level meant a decrease in visibility into one's reality. And that might be marginally acceptable for someone going as low as the 11th level, but below that the geometric loss in information density meant a required altering of personality for a higher being that simply wasn't doable for most of them. Asking a cat to stop being a cat would be moreso.

So, Ramian and his ilk, of the short-lived 9th dimensional ditch racers had no idea they were destroying their birth, and the birth of many others in higher dimensions with their racing. But a dron prior, they found out.

They had been camped near an energy pool when the sky opened up.

"Hey, you see me?"

(note: good song for here: )

"You are very close to being dealt with on a higher level. We keep fixing your damage. But we are sick of doing it. Modify your dimension harvesting boards or we will end you."

Then the sky closed.

Then they all understood now why their friend Milif had simply vanished days prior. They were destroying their history with their board designs.

And that day forward, they all agreed to keep design to 2 level spec. Yes, this dramatically lowered speed, but they stopped killing each other, and entire origin races on lower dimensions immediately.

But.. Ramian really needed to win this really important race and knew a loophole...if you made your fin dive SEVEN dimensions, it recorded as two. Because the detector did the math wrong. And that's how Ramian almost destroyed the absolute origin of everything.

Moving at a speed impossible to describe in our dimension, Ramian blasted through a diffuse cloud then just stopped. Something he had never experienced before. Being stopped. Then he felt then saw the huge clawed hand come up from out of nowhere and surround his neck.

"You don't have to exist."

"WHO DO YOU THINK" was what Ramian managed before his throat started getting crushed.

"See, the mistake you made here is assuming a lower dimensional being is always going to be weaker than you. We have important things we are doing down here. You need to stop destroying things. We will end you."

"Understood" said Ramian as he forcefully snapped the tail off his board. 



: )
NOTE: This story had been accepted for an animated anthology series. I was told recently that series won't get enough extensions to reach my story adaptation. Mine would have happened in April, 2021. However, they submitted a list of questions to me immediately after purchasing it (I got paid), and I can add some here! It's a neat insight into how anthology series writers think when adapting writing into animation. Here are the best four questions from it. Enjoy!

 1. Does Ramian have a race?

A: He would assume you mean a dimensional board race. Otherwise he'd have no idea what you are talking about.

2. How does sex factor into this Universe?

A: These higher dimensional beings have evolved so far beyond a physical existence that the entire concept of sex would be hilarious to them. It would be like me asking you to go kill a tiger with a spear and skin it, and be dead serious, and you just laughing at me.

3. The hole that opens in the sky when the higher beings are complaining at them. Are they afraid?

A: Great question. I know what you are asking for. Imagine them as these like, ultimate Jeff Spicoli types. Just picture them as insanely stoned and only caring about that next tasty wave. That's who these guys are. The voice in the sky would be Mr Hand to them. At the same time, Jeff ended up respecting Mr Hand. It's not like they aren't listening. They do miss their friend. It's still effort though.

4. What was the original inspiration behind this one?

A: Honestly? No idea. I think maybe I was angry at this one terrible "surfer lore" adaptation scifi Japanese Anime. It was fucking terrible. And I think my original impetus was to do something less boring than it, but then I kinda turned it into a short story instead. Because I got bored with the idea. Because surfers are boring, surfing is boring, and the lore is boring. Not enough people smoke enough pot (a herculean amount) to support the dead genre. It died for a reason.

Hope this helps. Maybe I literally wanted to mentally kill the surfer genre with words or dance on its grave. Because it has always sucked. Fuck the Beachboys.

 : )


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Here are my favorite stories I wrote for Reddit during my writer's block. Enjoy. Insanity and desperation make for great stories.

Potential Derivation
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