“In any case, yes, it’s not something that just anyone can do. There are dire consequences if a Watchdog misses a warning sign and allows an event to proceed unhindered. Anyway, enough about me—back to the explanation.” She sat up straighter (at least, that’s how it felt to me) and carried on. “While I was patrolling your world as a cat, I made a mistake that should’ve led to my death. That’s when you saved me. Currently, we’re in a liminal space that I can access.”
“Could that truck really have killed you?” I asked straight out. It’d be a vital flaw in the system for someone with such a critical responsibility to be mortal, just the same as any other living being.
“My temporary body would’ve died, but not my soul. My body for any given world is chosen from the native fauna, and my physical abilities are limited accordingly. It’d be hard for me to pass unnoticed otherwise. This way, even if I die, I leave no trace. However, dying is still a major problem because I can’t fulfill my duty until I get another body. I’m sure that losing your physical body has left you in a bit of a pickle too.”
A pickle, she said, as if this wasn’t the biggest mess I’d ever been in.
“Anyway,” she continued, “I have one caveat to add to our parallel universes discussion. Do you think that most worlds only differ from each other in trivial ways?”
“Yes, as far as I know. At least, that’s the way it’s portrayed in books and games.”
“Here are two comparative scenarios: In one world, you decide to stop for a drink after work, thus causing you to take a train that happens to be delayed, so you return home very late. In another world, you go straight home without a hitch. Do you think this is how multiverse theory functions?”
“Seems right.”
“To be blunt, that’s not how it works. Worlds aren’t actually created on the turn of a dime. In our example, your decision to get a drink becomes part of that world’s natural equilibrium. If you were to go straight home on your regular train instead, you would throw off the balance.”
The disembodied voice continued, “Maybe you arrive home early and overhear a couple arguing. You report it to the police. The couple’s relationship crumbles. As a result, they never give birth to a child, and the harmony of the world is disrupted. The whole thing is a bit more nuanced, but the saying still applies—there are no might-have-beens in history.”
The explanation made sense as long as I didn’t think about it too hard. I kept quiet and urged her to continue.
“I’ve gotten a little sidetracked, but in a nutshell, that’s how parallel worlds work. Needless to say, since universes don’t infinitely branch off each other, there aren’t any clones of you in worlds similar to your own. There’s only you, and you weren’t supposed to have died yet. When you saved my life at the expense of your own, you introduced a bug into the system—one that affects the world, your own life, and mine as well. Three fates were changed, each in a different way, and world alterations are preventable only if we fill the hole you’ve left behind. The quickest way to restore balance would’ve been to rewrite the timeline and say that you miraculously survived without a scratch. However, that road is closed to us. Fundamentally, my job as a Watchdog is to report on the state of the multiverse; my accounts of events are logged in many different worlds. Because I witnessed it, your death in that world cannot be reversed.”
Our conversation had taken a drastic turn for the worse. “Then it sounds like we’re out of options. Why did you bother preserving my soul?” I asked.
“There is one more option. We can find a replacement for you in your world, and then send you to a different one,” she replied.
“That’s possible? From what you’ve said so far, it doesn’t seem like that would be allowed,” I remarked.
“Hmm, how do I put this?” she pondered aloud. “There are several worlds that are experiencing the same predicament as yours; those universes contain voids where someone’s existence should be. We can send people across the multiverse to fill those open spaces. That said, you’ll have to choose from the worlds in my docket, so there’s a limited number of places you can go.”
“Basically, you’re swapping me with someone else, right?” I asked.
“You catch on quick! That’s the gist of it. You’d still be considered dead in your original world, but you can live on in a new one.”
“I see. Can I ask a question?”
“Of course. Please do,” she said.
“Why keep me alive at all?”
“Oh, right. I was going to get to that. One reason is for my peace of mind; I wouldn’t be able to rest easy knowing that someone died because of my mistake. Don’t tell anyone I said that though. I want you to remember that we need to preserve the system’s equilibrium.”
“Strangely, I find it hard to accept that you’re now asking me to take this in stride,” I said. “In any case, I don’t have a choice, right?”
“I’m sorry, but no, you don’t. However, you’ll be able to choose your destination. Plus, in your new world, you’ll be granted certain privileges—cheat abilities. They won’t be anything that’d break the rules of the world or the multiverse, so rest assured, you can ask for whatever you want.”
“Let’s see...” I said, taking my time to think. My cheat ability couldn’t be so overpowered that it would throw the world off-kilter, huh? How do I make the most out of my second shot at life?