“For us, the spirit world has long left the realm of fantasy.” Takasu’s dramatic voice drew the gazes of the seated men. “There is no difference, strictly speaking, between the spirit world and our own real world. This was proven by Nikola Tesla a century ago.”
Takasu paused for a moment and squinted into the darkness at the back of the room.
“...Our leader has told us that in this world, we exist alongside the will of the dead. We use the common phrase ‘spirit world,’ but it does not refer to another world. It’s the same as this world, and it always has been. In terms of quantum mechanics, the spirit world and the real world ‘overlap,’ the one difference being that that in one, time does not flow.”
That difference had been their biggest barrier.
“Go to the spirit world and you’ll find yourself trapped in a ‘Prison of Time.’ Solving that problem has been our last and greatest task.”
At the end of their research, Takasu and the others had reached the “prison of time.” In that prison, real time expanded, and escape was presently impossible.
“If it weren’t for that prison, we would’ve chosen death a long time ago,” Hatoyama said bitterly.
Takasu nodded. “But at last, we have a hint to help us solve the problem.”
Takasu displayed digitized text on his tablet. It was an unpublished paper they’d recovered just a few days ago from Isayuki Hashigami’s study, entitled “Time and the Spiritualizing World.”
Finding this was what had made possible Takasu’s decision to abandon the entire first generation.
“Both myself and the RIKEN team read the report, and it was very interesting. If this were to be made public, it would overturn everything humanity thought it knew. Of course, it doesn’t contain all the answers, but if we use this to reorient our research team’s priorities, we may be able to synchronize time between the spirit world and the real one. And what that makes possible, is—” Takasu spoke once again in a dramatic voice as he looked around at the seated men.
“The acquisition of the spirit world.”