Deconstruction in the Fire of Creation

Fragmented hyper-colours flowed free-form into the brain. Plugging in, programming, uploading, rewriting, unwiring, fixing. Making better. Connections made, circuits flicked.

Existence springs up and recedes like the trap it is, in front. Free from it, new angles open up from nowhere like flowers to the sun as depths and perspectives dissolve. Seen for what it is, meaning dawns.

But to browse or to study everything: he was uncertain.

No choice. 4D senses were too much for his 3D body. The reconstruction he had undergone was hard to perceive, let alone deal with, as were the effects both physical and mental.

Slumping to his knees, Milligan Perrin stared at existence, and could perceive time tangibly, before what was too much, became all too much.