Y-33N - Part 2 (Patreon Commission for VDO)

TAGS: A VDO Story, Growth/Expansion, Continuous Growth, Ascension/Goddess, Literal Impossibility

---===---

Very quickly, he came to understand that the aura of magnificence and dominance exuded by the yeen goddess extended far beyond the restrictions of mere biology; despite the fact that the artificial intelligence governing the orbship was programmed only to serve as the caretaker for the vessel, lacking a personality matrix as far as the lesser yeen could tell, this didn’t stop the synthetic from developing a personality just so it could worship the goddess aboard the ship. How exactly was a question best left for minds far smarter than the consort’s own; last they checked, AI wasn’t supposed to be able to develop a self spontaneously.

The hyena goddess, however, didn’t quite care about the specifics, in so far as said AI kept doing its job; as long as it ran the orb’s systems properly and maintained everything at an acceptable level of efficiency, then it could spend its days grovelling for attention for all the yeen cared. It was just as easy for her to give a synthetic brain part of her day as it was for her to do so with biological entities; plus, after the personality matrix was fully crystallized, the AI was effectively indistinguishable from any other person, especially after they reformed parts of the interior communication system into hardlight hologram projectors.

The goddess herself was far more preoccupied with how the orb seemed to defy physics on a fundamental level; not so much because it did, but mostly on account of how quickly it had been assembled, seriously putting into question just what sort of engineering prowess had been hidden from the public for so long. Surely, if people could just build that sort of thing within a couple of days, then whatever they were planning to build for the “hub” could be far, far more than what the initial plan was… whatever said initial plan happened to be.

And, just like that, it was so. In that one moment of clarity, the yeen’s intent was made as crystal clear as could be, spreading through the entirety of the megacluster to hook into the minds of everyone and anyone even remotely attached to the Hyperobject project. Of course they had to upscale it; why shouldn’t they, when the point of it all was to create a throne for their goddess? Why were they trying to build a singular thing when they could pour their all into it and go several steps beyond?

Infinity was a complex thing, doubly so when one had to wrap around to multiple levels of it to even begin comprehending a tiny fraction of its sum totality; assuming there even was a countable totality, rather than an endless one. Higher-dimensional physics being what they were, tetradimensional engineering was about as high as any one polity could truly go before costs became prohibitive; yes, the amount of resources and time (literally) spent on those megaprojects created beforehand was high, but necessary, and, ultimately, an investment into the future: if they had to anchor the structure in a fourth dimension just to make it work, it was usually because it was worth doing so.

That said, it was possible to go further beyond. Pentadimensional engineering had been attempted before when one of the many satellite galaxies of Y-7115B had to be harvested on a speedy schedule; the resulting hyperstructure required the manipulation of cosmic strings on a level never before attempted, with the result being that it cost significantly more than any standard extraction operation would. The only reason it wasn’t deemed a costly failure was only because it finished on time.

Anything hexadimensional and above was, while theoretically possible, just not practical, not under the conditions that the megacluster existed in. Maybe in a distant future, when entropy manipulation became a necessity, then whoever happened to be around would have to crack open the manuals and think about it, but right there and then? The stability of spacetime was already frayed enough as it was with four dimensions being fucked around with, and no one wanted to invest the ludicrous amount of cash needed to keep the projects from obliterating a handful of galaxies because someone accidentally misplaced a comma in the calculations.

That is, until the yeen came around. And suddenly, hexadimensional engineering felt so small; suddenly, the idea of only going to six dimensions felt like an absurdity, like they should be going far further, since clearly their goddess needed not just a throne for her to sit on, but one that could carry her for eternity. Not just that, but a throne that could ensure eternity, either by manipulating the universe to maintain it in perpetuity, or being sturdy enough to survive whatever happened at the very end.

And while this would’ve sounded like lunacy to anyone with half a brain just minutes prior, as soon as the hyena goddess produced that one thought, it stopped sounding as insane, stopped sounding like an idea an idiot scientist would have in a moment of utter madness. Instead, it became… truth. Truth, because that was always what the project was supposed to be about; they just hadn’t caught up with it yet, being too focused on the minor details to see the bigger picture.

Of course they couldn’t just make a physical hub connecting all galaxies in the megacluster, much like they couldn’t just construct it to be so immense as to be able to house all sentients that lived connected to it on a fraction of a decimal point of its total surface area. While this no doubt would be sufficient, it wasn’t enough; they weren’t about to bring the entirety of Pandemonium together to pool their resources into this one grand project just so they could achieve the bare minimum. If they were going to do it, they were going to do it, no half-measures.

Thus, preparations began for an expansion of the Hyperobject project before the first girder was even put in place, preparations that were mostly comprised of equations on paper rather than metal in foundries. It was clear to everyone involved in the planning process that they would never be able to even begin to build the Hyperobject in its new, intended dimensions within a timespan that could feasibly be calculated; they would have to rely not just on upper-end estimates of universal lifespan, but also on the notion that subsequent generations would remain as fully committed to the project as they themselves were.

To a certain point, the latter wasn’t that far-fetched; they did have a goddess there to guide them, after all, so obviously no one would stray from the path. But stretching their construction work in linear time invited all manner of unforeseen disaster to come knocking on their door; the longer it took to build, the likelier it was that something would happen to disrupt the project, perhaps even indefinitely. Thus, better solutions were required, ones that would allow the megacluster to complete construction of the hub far before it was actually complete.

Then-current understanding of the cosmos had established a lower bound of no less than seventeen dimensions, most of which operated in ways that most people would never grasp; upper bounds varied wildly, but one thing everyone could agree on: the yeen existed, and thus could be used as a focal point. By eschewing the use of abstracted physics, and instead focusing on seeing their goddess as a central spoke around which everything else revolved, then this logistical issue could be resolved: in other words, physics itself must be made subordinate to the will of their goddess, and only then would they be able to build the hub in any decent amount of time.

Coming up with this entirely new branch of physics was remarkably simple, given that most variables and constants could simply be decided on the spot by the goddess herself; the issue was making it work without active input on said goddess’ part, given that she couldn’t exactly be bothered for every little thing her worshippers needed to know. Thus, it became a form of precognitive divination: by tapping into the collective, subconscious understanding that their goddess loved them, their goddess was perfection incarnate, and thus they were her loyal and joyful followers, scientists the megacluster over began devising this new way of seeing reality.

It was surprisingly mutable, given that the yeen didn’t much care about whether or not things remained consistent, so much as they remained entertaining; she wasn’t in the business of looking at numbers and doublechecking whether they “added up” or whether any one thing was that same thing when she wasn’t looking at it. Ultimately, she wanted to have fun, and she desired nothing more than for other people to stop being so stuffy and have fun as well! In the end, her biggest dream was for researchers to learn to loosen up a little and just enjoy themselves rather than constantly try and service her at any given opportunity.

Naturally, this resulted in a great many revolutionary discoveries in the field of Divine Astronomy, most of which were immediately broken in half once the yeen found out about them and, in a rare moment of genuine annoyance, told everyone to go outside and “have fun for once”. After the celebrations were over, and the yeen’s consort convinced her to just focus on something else and let the little ones “do what they must”, work resumed; with it, the understanding that the best way to complete the Hyperobject was to, in fact, assume parts of it were built already.

By tapping into their goddess’ ability to manipulate reality at such a fundamental level, those working in the construction of Y-33N could arbitrarily declare that certain chunks of it were already built; indeed, all they had to do was convince the hyena deity that the blueprints and plans she was seeing, along with the holographic projections for what they would look like in reality, were actually just the easiest way to let her know about the state of something that was definitely there already. Just as long as she believed it, then it would become true, and thus, will a large section of the Hyperobject into being from literally nothing.

It was, however, important to not do this too quickly. They were deliberately banking on the yeen believing what she was being told, and while she had come to expect her little ones to do absolutely batshit crazy things in her name, there were still limits; if the engineering team came to her with news that the hub was complete in just under a month, even she would have to raise an eyebrow, thus compromising the integrity of the entire project.

Therefore, the simplest way was to take it one section at a time; in a way, they were building the Hyperobject from the ground up, just without the actual building itself. This also freed up a significant amount of processing power for the creation of the temple complex itself; while a minority of Y-33N was dedicated to the housing of intergalactic civilisation and all associated industries, most of it was built to serve as a perpetual home for the goddess yeen, and one that could be expanded at a moment’s notice.

Initially, thoughts on how to build it were quite traditional: fountains of gold flowing into rivers wider than planets, lakes and oceans that outsized stellar systems, entire ecosystems bathed in the everlasting glory of the goddess; gemstones encrusting every single surface, the brilliance second only to the radiance of the hyena herself, who would stand in the very centre of it all, serving as the brilliant core that all others could look towards and aspire to reach.

Actually speaking to the yeen, unfortunately, yielded two raised eyebrows, a snarl, and a direct threat that the engineers should probably tone it down a bit. For her, it was such a bizarre experience: she woke up one day to find that, right outside of her room, there was a crowd of about a million engineers all wanting to ask her questions about this or that, or specific details regarding the Hyperobject that she wasn’t even aware was being built in her honour.

It was a wake-up call, a reminder that, no matter how much she tried to get people to stop focusing so much on her, they insisted on doing so anyway, and were doing so in such a ridiculously overblown manner that she simply didn’t know how to react; she wanted the hub built, sure, but now they were turning it into a throne? And for her of all people; sure, she may be big, but she wasn’t that big that the megacluster had to be cannibalised just to give her some place to sit!

Yet, that was exactly what she was being told, almost as if it was a perfectly normal thing to say and not at all an affront to physics itself. That the engineers kept making references to “new” physics, “yeen” physics, didn’t elude her, though the goddess wisely decided not to pursue that line of questioning; she was dreadfully terrified of whatever insanity those people had cooked up when she wasn’t looking.

Still, they had to be dealt with, and the only way she knew how was to tell them all to go take a hike and focus on themselves for a change. She didn’t, seeing as it would be somewhat rude, but the intent was there, and being there, it was almost instantly transmitted to the crowd… who, predictably, reacted to it by packing up their things, lining up in a perfect queue, and then leaving the orb, also leaving behind a very confused hyena who had no clue as to what had just happened.

To her, the idea that anyone would go that far just to please her was… not necessarily offensive, but just plain weird. Yes, she was a goddess, but she still existed within the material plane; if she wanted something, she could just go and get it, or make it, or manifest it, or any number of possible solutions. Not only did she not want others to do it for her, but she found it to be almost insulting to her little ones; if she could already take care of herself, why should they be expected to take care of her as well?

It was bad enough that they kept showing her pictures of designs she barely understood while trying to convince her that they were somehow complete; she did her best to pretend like she believed them, but when the distances and scales involved became evident to her, it was slightly less than possible for her to buy that such quick progress was being made. Yet, they kept presenting the reports, and seeing as her orb home was, indeed, somehow still growing despite not being built to do so, part of her wanted to believe that they were true.

And this was enough to make it so. Just this slight, tiny sliver of want, this desire for the impossible to be made manifest; such was her power that it rearranged the fundamental properties of existence such that things were always that way: there had always been a large, several-galaxy-wide framework in place to build Y-33N, just as the physics needed for it had always been the physics by which the rest of the universe was guided. So much so that it was no longer just Pandemonium that participated, but everyone else as well.

Communication beyond the local megacluster was deemed impossible so long ago that it had become established fact. While exchanging messages was theoretically within the capabilities of any given polity, the sheer distances involved, as well as the gargantuan supervoids present between individual megaclusters, were enough to dissuade any attempt. But such was the yeen’s power that even these impossibly vast distances weren’t enough to keep those wanting to serve her from showing up anyway: wormholes, artificial spacetime bridges, even time travel were all employed to transport universal sentient life to as close to the hyena as possible, all to make sure that her every whim was catered to.

By then, said yeen had long-since learned to shut the door and not let anyone in. Not because she didn’t care about her little ones, but because paying attention to any one of them would be, fundamentally, unfair to everyone else; if everyone was so equally devoted to her worship, then everyone deserved to receive her attention, and in as equal a portion as possible.

While initially this posed something of a problem, her consort suggested a solution. An absurd solution, one that even the vessel’s AI went speechless at the mere mention of, but a solution regardless: a livestream. Specifically, a continuous video stream of every moment of the goddess’ life, broadcasted to the entirety of the megacluster and whoever else managed to pick up on the signal, with occasional Q&As thrown in for good measure.

The sheer logistical nightmare that this would create was not lost on the hyena goddess, nor the synthetic intelligence that was expected to manage it. Then again, the longer those two thought on it, the more the absurdity of it turned into sheer brilliance: of course the yeen should continuously livestream everything she did, it was the perfect way to make sure people were satisfied and had a means of interacting with her that didn’t force them to drop everything! No more ignoring their own needs, no more sacrificing their own well-being, now they could have everything they wanted while giving their goddess everything she wanted…

… plus, it would be disingenuous for her to claim that the idea of all the extra attention didn’t push some buttons. She was a goddess, yes, but she was only a goddess because such a concept existed; she still lived within a given context, a paradigm, and one that needed other people to be maintained: she couldn’t quite be a goddess if there was no one around to be a goddess to. And while the idea of her little ones starving themselves to feed her was abhorrent, that was just it: they were her little ones, and even without realising it, the yeen had seen them as such for quite some time already.

They were her responsibility, to take care of, to nurture, to ensure they were properly tended to and guided as a civilisation. To look after and provide for, to put herself out there so they could have a role model they could look up to, to provide examples for them to aspire towards. She was a goddess, yes, but with that came a certain amount of responsibility towards those who worshipped her, the mutual understanding being that they, in turn, would provide her with… well, worship.

And while the yeen was initially reluctant to accept it, she had to admit that letting it in was probably the best decision she’d ever made. To actually listen to the quadrillions of voices calling for her at any given point, to tap into the intergalactic, subconscious hypernetwork of prayer and devotion that made itself clear to her if she just bothered to pay the slightest amount of attention to it. At times, the goddess found herself with her eyes closed for hours at a time, doing nothing but bathing in the endless worship, feeling it fill her very soul with power beyond imagining… as well as the rest of her, which she soon came to realise.

Her growth had never stopped. Indeed, now that she lived in a home that seemed keen on constantly resizing itself to make sure she fit, her growth had accelerated to the point where her consort barely reached her hips; she had to give the other hyena a boost out of her own power just to keep the two within hugging range, lest she accidentally end up stepping on them when she wasn’t looking.

This became a constant and very necessary process, repeated multiple times over the course of every single day. Not only was the goddess waking up several dozen feet taller, but her growth spurts were occurring while she was awake as well now, leading to her being occupied with a random task, only to suddenly bump against the ceiling… at least until the ship’s AI apologised extensively and readjusted the ceiling to be much higher in preparation for the next spurt.

Not just that, but her curves and proportions “suffered” as well. She’d never been the thinnest of hyenas, but the amount of squish and pudge on her nowadays was close to excessive; she had to be careful not to accidentally knock half of her belongings off their shelves and storage containers whenever she moved to look to her side. That, and for whatever reason her body managed to pack on some ludicrous amount of muscle mass wherever it wasn’t being rounded out by squishy yeenfat. Not to mention the… productivity. Really, if she wanted to, the yeen could feasibly feed most of known sentient life if she just milked herself; instead, all that cream remained firmly within her bust, mostly because she knew what would happen if she ever allowed even a drop to escape into the outside world.

Naturally, demand went up almost instantly after she thought about it; to her credit, the goddess did realise what she had just done the moment she did it, filing it away as a “better luck next time” as she did so. Of course her livestream’s first questions were about her selling her breast milk; why wouldn’t it be, when camera issues locked the feed onto her tits for the first six hours?

At first, the yeen goddess didn’t even begin to consider the possibility of entertaining the notion of ever so much as thinking about milking herself for future distribution. It was nonsense, just like all those other things that were equally ridiculous and turned out to be not only real, but practical and oddly useful; a couple of days later, the plumbing was complete, the outside link established via the use of an onboard wormhole, and the goddess was ready to supply her flock with her very own bounty.

It was an ingenious design, in that it used no static parts that could ever get in the way: rather than pumps and pipes, she instead wore a simple sports bra with an inbuilt spatial distortion device, which not only served to actively drain her through carefully calculated electrical impulses, but automatically transported all produced cream to an off-site storage facility. This way, the yeen could carry on with her day without having to stop every ten minutes just to empty out; similarly, everyone else in the known universe could finally drink of their goddess’ milk, even if not directly from the tap as many fantasized.

The effects this had on intergalactic community could not be understated, because by drinking said milk, one lost the ability to understate it; by communing with their divinity on such a deep level, it became impossible for any one person to even begin to describe what it was they were experiencing. Thus, they simply said nothing; when asked, by those vanishingly few and few people who had not yet had the pleasure, those who drank merely smiled, allowing their beaming expression to do all the talking.

It was joy beyond joy, inexpressible through conventional language, or anything other than direct neural feedback between two merged minds. To try and describe it would be criminal: words could not do it justice, so none even attempted; best to simply be, and by being, spread the message through one’s presence, through one’s continued radiance as they were filled with their goddess’ love, thoroughly completed by a part of themselves they hadn’t even known they lacked.

Meanwhile, the yeen herself was reduced to a near-mewling wreck whenever the milking got too rough for her to handle, but that was part of the fun: it was walking around in her unending livestream, pretending that she was fine, while all the while being an inch away from a pleasure meltdown. She liked the scandal of it; it made the experience far more delectable than it had any right to be.