Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
We pulled off I-51 a little after midnight, stopping at a truck stop which was couched between the highway and a large forest.
We waited in the van for ten minutes or so. Trent had increased the sonar radius to its maximum of 30 miles a little over an hour ago. Somehow the red pings had kept up with us, holding a steady distance of around 20 miles. Considering we were averaging around 80 mph, and a coyote's top speed is only around 40 mph, we figured they had been enhanced in some way. Either that, or they shape-shifted into something faster. Regardless, now that we had stopped, we waited to see if the demon spawn would try and close the distance. Luckily, or unluckily, they didn't. They kept their 20 mile buffer, but we noticed they were beginning to spread out along the circumference of that boundary.
"We're close. They know that, so they're trying to trap us in." Trent said.
"Trying to?—more like they have."
We considered whether we should stay in the van and keep watch, but we figured that would do us little good. At their speed, they could be on us in ten minutes, which means we would need to stay up all night and keep tabs on their positions. Trent offered to stay up, of course, but I shut him down.
"The demon doesn't want to kill us now. You said it yourself. Plus, we need our rest. If they come, they come."
Trent didn't like it, but he acquiesced.
The truck stop had all the essentials: a gas station and mini mart with showers and an attached McDonald's, a large parking lot for truckers to idle and sleep, and even a section with lodging for those who wanted a more comfortable night's rest. I told Trent that he should take advantage of the showers, and after a little convincing, he agreed. While he was cleaning himself up, I patrolled the dingy, half-stocked aisles of "Daisy's Quick Mart". I probably would have been appalled at the quality of the store had I actually been paying any attention to it whatsoever. But I wasn't. I was thinking hard about what awaited me tomorrow.
During the drive, I had asked Trent why the demon would want us to return to the crash site. What did he mean that I would be 'confronting a dark entity in a place he couldn't help me'? He seemed hesitant to answer, but my little stunt outside the storage facility seemed to have sufficiently motivated him.
"When I said I've never done this before, I meant it." Trent started. "I've never done this exact thing before—meaning I've never projected someone into the past."
"So, I'm time traveling?" I asked.
"No—don't think of it like that." Trent paused, trying to come up with a good explanation. "It's more like I'm opening a window for you to look through: not a door. You're going to see the past, but you can't interact with the physicalities there. But that doesn't mean you can't interact with anything."
There was a space of silence as Trent tried to let me work out his meaning for myself. "I don't get it. Are you saying there's something I can interact with? Like what?" And then it hit me. "The demon. The demon can interact with me? Meaning what? It can kill me?"
"Meaning… I'm not exactly sure. You're going to be in a kind of psychic space. If it does damage, it won't be to your body. It'll be to your mind—or spirit. But I don't know what the limits of that damage could be. I just don't have those answers."
"If you've never done this, how do you know any of it will work?"
"That's an easy one." Trent answered. "Because it's been done to me."
There was silence.
"Look, if I know anything, I know my tech. Don't doubt that this will work. It's my job to make sure it does. I just need you to be in the right mental for this. Just because it knows your coming doesn't mean it automatically has the upper hand. It won't be able to see you unless you make contact with it first. In other words, you have to initiate contact. As long as you remain a spectator, you should be okay. Trust me. Just don't make contact."
I started pacing faster—fast enough to catch the attention of the overnight shift worker, a young man whose name I can't quite remember. I know it started with a "J". Jake, maybe? Anyway, he asked if I was alright, to which I responded in the affirmative. He left me alone for another couple passes, but when I almost ran into one of the shelves, he stood up and said, "Uh—I'm going to have to ask you to stop running around. I don't want you to hurt yourself."
I must have stared daggers at him, because he recoiled from my gaze. What's gotten into me? I thought. Then, steadying myself, I apologized. I looked around and grabbed the nearest edible looking piece of merchandise: a bag of Swedish Fish, and placed it down on the counter. "Just this, please."
The cashier rang me up. It was surprisingly cheap.
"Are you sure you're alright?" the young man asked. He was tall with brown hair. He seemed tired—maybe even more tired than me. But he also seemed kind.
I smiled as best I could and said, "No, I'm not. But there's not really anything you can do. Hell, there might not be anything I can do." I furrowed my eyebrows at my own response, realizing that imminent death may have broken my verbal filter.
On the other hand, the cashier did not seem surprised at all. "Ah, I see. It's one of those problems." He responded. "Well, hey, for what it's worth, you seem like one of the resilient ones. I think you'll be alright."
I only smiled and nodded at his mildly cryptic comment. Looking back, the whole interaction was a bit strange, but I had way too much mental clutter to recognize that in the moment. I took my Swedish Fish and walked through the anteroom which led to McDonald's. I found an open yellow booth that wasn't littered with crumpled straw sleeves and sat down, chomping mindlessly on my little red fish until Trent returned. When he arrived, he took my place, and I went to shower. After we were both clean and fed, we returned to the van. The pings were still pushed safely out of harm's way. But that didn't mean we were out of harm's way. Trent asked me if I wanted to sleep in the van, saying that "it'd be the safest place."
I thought it over. He was right, obviously. The van was not only outfitted with weapons I couldn't even begin to understand, but it was also our escape, and it would be just as difficult, if not more difficult to break into than the studio-style motel rooms with their wood doors and big windows. Still, if this was going to be my last night on earth, I wanted to sleep in a bed. A real bed. Trent understood and said he'd stay parked right outside my room for the night.
After purchasing a key from the night attendant, I moseyed over to the cement walkways which connected the twenty or so rooms. Mine was room #56, which I thought was odd since, like I said, there were only 20 rooms. I lugged in my tomato plushie and dad's old book and placed them on the queen mattress.
"I'll be right outside." Trent said after I collapsed onto the bed.
"Trent," I called out, stopping him half-way through the door.
"Yeah?"
All the blood in my body rushed up to my face as I realized my unfiltered mouth almost reflexively said the word "stay". I stared at Trent, my heart beating, my face hot. I considered asking him to sleep on the floor like my dad, but that would be childish and impolite. The alternative was to share my bed… Or I could take the floor.
"I'll just be right outside." Trent said before my mind processed a solution. "Come by if you need anything. I'll be up most of the night anyway."
"Okay," I replied in a faint voice.
Trent shut the door.
I sat atop the bedsheets and acquainted myself with my new living space. A feeling of regret closed over me as I considered that even sleeping on a carseat would have been better if it meant I didn't have to be alone. With a sigh, I turned on the bedside lamp and grabbed the book and stuffed tomato, using the tomato as a backrest as I slipped my legs under the covers and situated the book upright on my thighs. I cracked it open and was immediately blasted with a puff of dusty, old book scent. It was ripe at first, and I turned my head away to sneeze, but as I perused through the pages, the scent grew on me. It reminded me of the days growing up when I'd step into dad's study and read through one of the many volumes on cryptic topics which were at least two college degrees above my Lexile range.
I was only a couple minutes into browsing the collection of different scientific and philosophical works when I came across a page which contained highlighted text. This was unusual, as my dad would never mark up his books. He was a purist on that point. I rubbed my thumb over the yellow lines, and sure enough, it was highlighter.
The highlighted text was part of a small book by Carl Jung called "Synchronicity". There were a total of three pages that were marked, and they advanced like this:
Page 5:
The philosophical principle that underlies our conception of natural law is causality*. But if the connection between cause and effect turns out to be only statistically valid and relatively true, then the causal principle is only of relative use for explaining natural processes… That is as much to say that the connection of events may in certain circumstances be other than causal, and require another principle of explanation.*
Page 19:
…there are events which are related to one another experimentally, and in this case meaningfully*, without there being any possibility of proving that this relation is a causal one, since the "transmission" exhibits none of the known properties of energy…a situation which does not yet exist and will only occur in the future could transmit itself as a phenomenon of energy to a receiver in the present…Therefore, it cannot be a question of cause and effect, but of a falling together in time, a kind of simultaneity... "synchronicity"*
Page 22:
A young woman I was treating had, at a critical moment, a dream in which she was given a golden scarab. While she was telling me this dream I sat with my back to the closed window. Suddenly I heard a noise behind me, like a gentle tapping. I turned round and saw a flying insect knocking against the window pane from outside. I opened the window and caught the creature in the air as it flew in. It was the nearest analogy to a golden scarab that one finds in our latitudes, a scarabaeid beetle, the common rose-chafer… which contrary to its usual habits had evidently felt an urge to get into a dark room at this particular moment.
I flipped through the rest of the pages of the book. There was no more highlighted text, but there was a message on the last page which read:
Matthew 7:7-8
I'll meet you in the darkest place.
He also included his typical smiley face which had an ovular shape and three sprouts of hair which I now realized kind of resembled my tomato plushie. It was my dad's writing, of course. But why? And how? What did this mean?
The motel had a Bible stashed away in the nighstand drawer. I got it out and looked up the verses which read the following:
Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you: for every one that asketh receiveth; and he that seeketh findeth; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened.
I spent maybe an hour ruminating on all of this. The whole discourse on energy and causality and a "falling together in time" just seemed so right. It was clear that my dad definitely did know what I was going through, but for whatever reason, he made it seem like he was oblivious. Why had he hidden that from me? I felt like I was being pulled in two directions. On the one hand, my dad loved me enough to leave this note, maybe even knowing the exact moment I'd need it. But on the other hand, he had neglected my struggles throughout my entire childhood. He even lied at times. Was this really enough to make up for all of that?
And then there was the section about the future transmitting energy to the past. I read back through the whole paragraph and the original writer had meant it to say this as something that wasn't possible, but my dad's highlighting made it seem like he wanted to flip the meaning. The future does affect the past. I thought about where I was headed and wondered if I would soon discover that for myself.
Lastly, dad's message. The Bible verse reminded me of the first time I prayed; how I reached out to God and received peace as an answer to my prayer. Now I feel like I'm actively seeking… something, but I don't know yet what I'll find. And then there's knocking. At first that reminded me of the story with the beetle tapping on the window, but then I went back even deeper in my memory and dug out the monster tapping at my window, and the words my dad spoke to me in order to set my mind at ease: "you're a superhero. And you know what your greatest superpower is? Your greatest power is you get to tell the monsters what to do. Because the monsters are only as strong as the stories you tell about them…so if you're ever scared, honey, just dream up a better story."
I was crying into my stuffed tomato now. I felt like all the blinking pieces of my life had finally been pulled together into a completed puzzle. This was all by design. My entire life, filled with so much chaos and confusion, was actually preparing me for this moment. And my dad thought I had the tools and strength enough to get through it. I flipped through the book one more time, thinking maybe he had left some other hidden comment—some formula to defeat this demon and return home. But there was nothing. Only that one comment: "I'll meet you in the darkest place."
What's the darkest place, dad? Is that where I'm going? Are you saying you'll be there, too?
With those thoughts in mind, my eyes became heavy shutters which, with a slight pressure on the pulley, winded shut. My swimming thoughts and firework-like fears dissipated, and I returned to a precious childhood memory. It was after an evening soccer practice. Summer. Dad was driving me to Dairy Queen. I got a cherry-dipped twist cone. I was happy.
So, so happy.
***
I woke up to sunlight blaring through my windows. Shit, I overslept, was my immediate thought. I threw off my covers and opened the front door. A glance at the clock showed 1:13 PM. I shouldn't have even been allowed to stay checked in this long. Damn, am I gonna get double-billed for this?
I heard a rummaging sound around the corner of my motel room. It sounded like a squirrel was trying to find an afternoon snack in one of the garbage bins. I stepped outside. The sun was extremely bright, to the point where I had to squint and put my hand over my eyes to even see the ground in front of me. I was trying to walk toward the van, but somehow I ended up in front of the trash bins where the animal's tail was sticking out from a turned-over, silver garbage can. Its tail was wagging excitedly, and I remember thinking that it was much too large to be a squirrel.
The animal bent down as if biting onto something, and I heard the sound of its growl as it struggled to tug whatever it was free from the barrel. Inch by inch, the creature backed out of the canister, and more of its sharp, sticky hair was revealed. I heard something snap, then the creature leapt back and I saw what it was chomping on. My eyes widened in horror as the pink tube of a human intestine was pulled taut like the end of a tangled hose. Blood and entrails were spilling out of the human's opened gut. And then, behind the canine, I saw the person's face. His face was pale white, his eyes closed, and his hair was slicked back… It was Trent.
Before I could react, I heard footsteps approaching from behind. I whirled around and saw my dad. But—no, it wasn't him. It was someone wearing a paper-mache face mask that was painted to look like my dad. The forehead of the mask was already beginning to crack, white specks breaking off like sawdust. Through the cracks, I could see the figure's true form. I didn't know darkness had its own type of light, but that's the only way to describe it. It was as if malevolence itself was reified into a skin which was actually an amalgamation of millions of little, oozing parasites that leached into the nearby light. When it finally spoke, the demon's voice was a full octave lower than the old man's at the deli. And it had an earth-stilling gravitas.
"Today's the day!" He sang and reached into his pocket. His lips curled upward into a foxy smirk. "You have no idea how long I've waited for this day." He said and held up a razor blade. Half his facade had already fallen apart, and now I could see the bugs up close, writhing in what was either horror or ecstasy. And his scent… it was somehow more rank than the rabid coyote rummaging through the trash can with Trent's cut open body inside. The demon closed in on my position, and in one, decisive motion, he brought the blade close to his chin, then sliced it across my throat. "Wake up!" He screamed.
I jumped out of my bed and grabbed my throat, feeling the cold sting of its quick slice. Hyperventilating, I patted the area down, trying to hold the blood in, but when I removed my hands, I saw they were dry. It was only a dream, I thought. Gray light was only beginning to filter in through the drapes. I'm in my hotel room. I'm safe. I tried consoling, but the pragmatic mental massages weren't enough to hold the force of my knees buckling. I dropped onto the carpet and cried for a long while.
Outside, rain was beginning to fall.
***
By the time I met up with Trent, I had already composed myself and decided to keep my dad's message and the nightmare to myself. None of it seemed particularly productive from a logistical standpoint, anyway. And I wanted to focus on the mission.
We stopped by McDonald's and bought a couple cups of coffee. Trent asked if I wanted any food, and I declined. Black coffee seemed like the only thing my stomach could take at the present moment. I could tell Trent was hungry, but he tried playing it off (I guess to be respectful of me?) I told him to knock it off and get something to eat. I didn't need my Charon getting lightheaded and dropping the paddle before he finished rowing me to Hell. He didn't care much for my joke, but he ordered a couple Chicken McGriddles at the kiosk anyway.
There were maybe ten patrons spread throughout the restaurant. We sat down at the same booth from the prior night, this time across from one another. Trent spent the first ten minutes or so babbling about our fuel supply and the logistics of the trip from here on in. Practical stuff. I've come to realize that's how he deals with his stress. He talks it out in short, durable sentences. I mostly nodded and watched as what looked like a storm front closed in on the truck stop. The sky was overcast, and there were darker clouds in the distance. The rain was still only a patter, but a middle-aged man wearing a yellow bow tie on the wall-mounted TV confirmed that there would be heavier rain and thunderstorms very soon.
After the worker delivered Trent's food and he ate it in record time, I posed the one question that was still on my mind.
"How do I fight him?" I asked.
Trent finished a large gulp of his coffee, then looked at me. It was the first substantial thing I'd said all morning; Trent could tell something was off with me, but he figured there was no point in asking what it was. "By 'him', I assume you mean the demon?"
I nodded.
Trent licked his teeth clean. "You could try praying again."
"I'm serious," I responded.
"I'm serious, too. It worked before, didn't it?"
"You mean at my house?"
Trent nodded.
"I thought you weren't a religious man?"
"I'm not. Just a practical one. If praying worked before, maybe it'll work again."
"That's the best you've got? A maybe?"
"No, I've got a lot of shit better than a maybe." He answered. "It's just not accessible where you're going. Which is why I recommend not making contact on the first run."
"First run? So we're going to do this more than once?"
"At least," Trent answered. Then, seeing my expression, he continued. "What? You thought this was going to be a one-and-done? We have to conduct some research first. I did tell you this was new for me, right?"
Somehow Trent's response had set my mind at ease a little. I was going to have more than one chance. Of course, why wouldn't I be able to go back more than once?
"Why didn't you tell me this earlier? It would have gone a long way in easing my mind."
Trent lifted his hands in defense. "Sorry, I just thought that was a given. I mean, what we're doing is dangerous, just like I said, but it doesn't mean we aren't going to approach this as safely and scientifically as possible. However, there is a different problem with running multiple trials."
"The Organization?"
"That's right," Trent said like a proud parent. "Our little experiment will be like a giant spotlight, and the longer we wait around after it's on us, the greater the chance we'll have unwelcome company."
"So, safe but speedy."
"Safe but speedy. Exactly."
***
We fueled up and were back on the road a little after 8:00. From that point on, Trent and I were absolutely silent. I had the distinct feeling of being in the eye of a storm. The pings moved closer commensurate with our progress toward the crash site. The cloudfront continued its advance. And I noticed a haze beginning to descend onto the road ahead of us. It was fog.
We meandered further inland, the forest thickening around us until the rain almost stopped entirely—the leaves drinking it up before it fell onto our windshield. I kept my eyes on the radar. We were approaching the large yellow circle which indicated we had arrived. As we pulled closer, I began to feel things. Fear. Eeriness. Doubt. Then happiness. Hope. Love. Normally feelings like these had a clear source to picture, but these sensations came on in waves without any discernible reason. It was almost as if they were blinking into existence inside me.
"Here we go," Trent said like an airline pilot readying his crew for turbulence.
I still recall the exact moment we crossed the boundary into the area of higher energy. It was like something just "clicked" in my brain, and all of a sudden everything felt so much closer. The sound of the rain against the trees was almost right next to my ear. The trees in the distance would oscillate between their position a half-mile out, then suddenly seem five meters away. If I focused on something long enough, it began to radiate those same ethereal particles as when Trent released Ava's "phase lock". I checked to make sure the shifter wasn't set to "TD". Sure enough, it was still in drive.
"Can you see them?" Trent asked. "The shifts?"
"Yeah," I said in a dreamy voice. I felt like I was driving through a wonderland.
"It's the energy. I barely notice a difference. A bit of movement in the trees, but not much else. But I'm sure for you, it's a whole experience."
"What is this?" I raised my hand and caught some of the pixel dust dripping off the sun visor. It disappeared when it made contact with my hand.
"It's a kind of radiation. Everything emits it, just in different quantities. I'm still not exactly sure how it relates to the other realms, but I'm guessing it's a kind of primordial matter that helps connect our worlds."
"It's beautiful," I exclaimed. "I wish I could see the world like this all the time."
"Maybe you will," Trent whispered.
As we arrived at the crash site, I began to get glimpses of the past. My childhood dreams and memories were pushing their way out from my subconscious. I noticed an increased number of blinks, which were validated by Ava who reported the following: "Currently detecting 14,350 novel emergences and 2,777 controlled agents. Net anomalies: 2,777."
"That's a lot of blinks." I remarked. "Why doesn't Ava include them in the net anomalies?"
Trent turned his head so I could see his smirk. "Because blinks aren't anomalies."
I thought about it for a second. Blinks aren't anomalies. "I never thought about it that way."
"It's hard to think about it that way when 'normal' for most people means not picking up on a fundamental aspect of reality. But that doesn't make it any less real."
We continued past the epicenter of the yellow circle. "Are we not stopping?" I asked. "I think we already passed the crash site."
"It doesn't have to be exactly at the site," Trent said. "Plus, we don't want to stop on the side of the road and risk getting some civilian involved. There's a field about half a mile up ahead. I'm going to pull off the road and set up camp there.
The "field" that Trent was referring to was actually a large clearing that dipped down into several trench-like troughs which were filled to the brim with fog like witches cauldrons. Further on in the distance, I saw open fields, probably used for farming, and then a large hill where the trees once again reasserted themselves. We had pulled off the road and up a small incline where the trees had already been broken down, leaving a trail for us to drive through. When we surfaced at the edge of the clearing, Trent pulled us onto a flat bed of dried mud which was maybe thirty yards long.
"Here," he said with a sigh.
We both sat for a minute, looking around at the field. We had finally arrived. The rain was beginning to pick up, and the dark sky made it almost impossible to discern the time of day.
"You ready?" Trent asked.
I looked at him. Really looked at him. In his blue eyes. Was I ready? Did it even matter?
"Let's do this," I said.
***
This was the first time I was really able to inspect the back of Trent's van. He had talked up his gear a lot, and honestly, I was impressed. Not in the way that a scientist is impressed by another scientist's lab—I wasn't any kind of expert—but it still seemed remarkably well managed. Now that I was in a state where my vision had been enhanced, I could actually see the enigmatic particles circulating through the pneumatic tubes which were coiled like the pipes and valves of an elaborate wind instrument. The walls of the van, itself, were glistening white, making it easier to make out everything else inside. Along the floor were five overturned columns. Each column was dark and had a vibrating quality, as if they were charged with energy. Then atop the center three columns was a small altar which supported an apparatus with two skinny, metal arms holding a silver halo. At present, the arms were folded and the halo was suspended a few inches above the altar, faced-down. I thought maybe I'd see particles exuding from it, but instead it was emitting visible waves which bent and warped everything they touched.
"That thing is emitting a lot of energy." I remarked, gesturing toward the halo.
Trent stepped in between the columns and started pulling out the packages he had stuffed in there yesterday. "Just wait till' it's on."
Most of the packages contained only a single piece of equipment, and were otherwise packed with foam peanuts. We carefully removed each box and set them on the ground outside. I asked if the rain would damage any of the stuff inside, to which Trent only laughed and continued lugging out the boxes. When they were all out, Trent removed a box cutter from his pocket and went one-by-one opening them. There were eight pieces in total.
"What is it?" I asked as we fished the first item out.
"It's another apparatus, like the one inside. Except it'll mount on the ground out here."
I pulled out what looked like a metal tripod.
"Good, that'll go on the bottom."
"Where are we setting it up?"
"Over here," Trent said and stepped five paces away from the van. He coordinated himself up so he was centrally aligned with the inner ring, then stomped a few times. "This is the spot."
As we continued to work, I asked Trent about how the whole contraption works.
"Do you remember the first time we were in the van? When we had to escape from the semi-truck?" Trent asked and connected a secondary mounting apparatus on top of the tripod. It had four spider-like legs that made right angles and stuck into the ground.
"Of course," I said. "The 'phase lock'."
"Yeah," Trent said and gestured toward the metal stick that was in my hand. I handed it to him. "The phase lock is a seal on the level of energy that the van is allowed to release. It also controls its dispersion pattern so that it releases its energy in a steady wave. This allows Ava to scan for anomalies without causing us to become an anomaly." Trent stuck the plank into the neck of the tripod.
"So when you released the phase lock, we started emitting more energy."
"That's right." Trent confirmed. "Enough to create an alternate route through a different realm."
"So we blinked into a different realm, then back, just to avoid that truck?"
"That's right."
"But why couldn't we just move out of the way?"
"Because it had locked onto us. It was tracking our motion and adjusting its course based on the amount of energy we were emitting. So in order to escape, we had to radically skew our potential energy and then use it to shift."
"Couldn't he have just followed us?"
Trent connected four more pieces to the device which now looked like an elaborate teepee. He was fishing in the last box when he spoke again. "Yeah, he could have. But it was highly improbable that he would have found us." Trent returned from the bottom of the box with another silver ring in hand. "Think of it like this. Let's say you're trying to escape from some bad guy who's coming after you, and you enter a new room you've never seen before. Would you prefer this room to have three doors to go through, or ten?"
I thought about his riddle for a second, then responded, "It depends where they go."
Trent fastened the ring atop the teepee. "Let's say they all lead to random places, or let's say they're all closets that lead nowhere. The key is that more is better, because the more doors he has to check, the less likely he is to pick the correct one. Make sense?"
"So we opened up a bunch of doors and escaped through one at random?"
"Hence the gear 'TD', for 'Trap Door'."
I marveled at the insights, but not for long. Trent hopped back in the van and pulled a lever that I hadn't seen until now. The two metal arms raised the inner ring until it was perpendicular with the altar. Then Trent clicked one of three red buttons along the back wall, and I saw what looked like a large, glass eye suspended in a magnifying glass protruding from the wall, aligned with the center of both rings. A couple seconds later, the glass eye began to focus the energy which was being fed to it from the pneumatic tubes, and a blue pyramid of light projected from it into the first ring, then from the first ring into the second ring. All three pieces were aligned at slightly diminishing heights, so the cylinder of light beamed through the second ring, into the ground.
"Alright, time for the first trial."
I felt the nerves starting up in my stomach. Trent sensed this and hopped out of the truck. It was raining quite hard now, though it was still warm. Both Trent and I were soaked, but that hardly concerned us. He reached out and put his hand on my shoulder. "I know you're feeling scared." He said. "But trust me on this. You're going to do fine. Just keep in mind what we talked about. Stay a spectator. Okay?"
I looked into his blue eyes, which seemed especially gray in the dark. Still, Trent's voice was reassuring. All I had to do was trust him. Trust myself. Trust my dad. And it was all going to turn out right.
"I'm ready," I said.
Trent was still for a second, holding my eyes in his. Then he guided me behind the outer ring and into the cylinder of light.
"I should step into it now?" I asked, afraid I'd be called away immediately.
"It's not on yet, so don't worry. I still have to press another button."
I followed Trent's instructions and stood in the blue light which was centered on my chest. Then I watched as Trent ran into the back of the van and posted up next to the glass eye. "Ready?" He yelled out. It was hard to hear him over the rain, but I yelled back. "Ready!"
The next thing I saw was a blinding blue light beam from the van. I heard what sounded like a laser, then saw the cylinder oscillate, expanding and compressing. When the energy reached the second ring, I saw everything around me light up—it looked brighter than noon on a cloudless day. Then the oscillations made their way to me, and I was swallowed up whole.
***
When I came to, I was in the backseat of a car. I felt my butt rumbling. Everything was dim and quiet. And then I heard a woman's voice from in front of me.
"Mark, please, not with Lauren in the back."
The man, who I now identified as my father, pulled the cigarette away from his lips and blew the smoke at my mom. He eyed the back seat where I was sitting, using one of five markers that hadn't rolled off my lap to color a rabbit in my animal color book.
"The kid's fine." he said and took another drag.
"Mark," my mom repeated.
I saw my dad raise his hand in a rapid motion. "I said she's fine, Cheryl. Now check the map and make sure we're going the right away. I can't see shit with all this fog."
I took a moment to make sure I was really in the back seat. I patted myself. I clearly had weight. Then I tried touching the car. At first, my fingertips met a solid surface, but when I tried to press through, my hand slipped into the car. I quickly pulled my hand away as if I had reached into a fire.
That's when I heard the little three year old next to me start crying. I turned and saw that little-me had dropped another couple markers onto the ground and was struggling to reach them.
"Hey!" my dad shouted. "What did I say about crying?"
"Quit it, Mark. She just dropped her markers." said my mom; she turned to help me pick them up.
"What did you say to me?" Mark spat with a voice full of guile. He reached out and pushed her back into her seat. "Don't," he commanded. "She has to learn how to deal with life."
"Deal…" My mom started in disbelief. "Deal with life? Do you hear yourself? What's gotten into you?"
"Sometimes shit happens. It doesn't give her the right to cry. You helping her is just going to reinforce her behavior."
"Her behavior? What about your behavior? You're acting like a total dick."
I didn't even have a moment to react before my dad's hand was across my mom's face. I felt the slap more than I heard it, my own face seeming to swell with the force of the blow. I saw my mom cover her mouth and lean away. Then little-me began to cry even louder, which only challenged my dad to step up his own volume.
"Everyone needs to get a fucking grip before I crash this car." My dad shouted and took another drag. The scariest part was I couldn't tell if he was warning us or threatening us. I felt the sudden urge to do something. There was no way this was real. I was definitely in some fantasy concocted by the demon. He wanted to turn me against my dad. That was the only explanation for something like this. My dad was a good man, not… this.
As I contemplated what to do, I saw a small, golden light appear behind little-me's window. Apparently she saw it, too, because her cries hushed as she traced the wisp with her eyes. After a second, the wisp transformed into a bunny rabbit, reminiscent of the one she was coloring. The rabbit hopped alongside the window, then did a couple circles in place. I watched little me let out a playful laugh and reach toward the window.
"What's going on back there?" my dad asked with a scowl. Apparently the only sound more disturbing than cries were laughs.
I looked back to the front and saw my mom wiping blood from her lip. Her expression was miserable. "Leave her alone, Mark."
"I'll do whatever I damn well want to do, Cheryl. It's my kid back there."
My mom was quiet.
When I looked back toward the rabbit, it was no longer a rabbit but a person. Or at least it looked like a person. The figure radiated pure gold, and atop his head was what appeared to be a King's crown. I recalled Allison's experience of seeing the sun-like figure in her moment of distress. Was that what was happening here? Was this really all true?
"Hey!" My dad shouted, eyeing little-me from the rear-view mirror. "What are you reaching at?"
I looked and saw the golden figure extending his hand toward the window, and little me's hand was reaching back. "Mom, dad, it bright." little-me said.
"What's bright, honey?" my mom asked.
"Don't encourage her, Cheryl."
"Someone there!" little me shouted happily and dropped the rest of the markers and the coloring book onto the ground.
"Who's there?" asked my mom.
"Cheryl, I swear to God. Sit the fuck down."
Everything from that moment on happened so quickly I barely had any time to process it. My mom lifted out of her seat to either get little me's attention or help me pick up my coloring book. My dad responded by grabbing onto her throat, letting go of the steering wheel entirely. He threw her back against the car door, and her head hit the window so hard, the glass cracked. My dad had dropped his cigarette, and I could smell smoke coming from under his seat, but that didn't seem to bother him at all. He turned toward little-me at the same moment my three-year-old hand reached out and grabbed onto the golden figure, whose hand diffused through the window. When my dad turned, I got a whiff of the most awful smell that I wouldn't have been able to place had I not had that nightmare last night. He grabbed onto little-me's shoulder and tugged her away from the golden figure that was trying to pull her the other way. My dad's facade began to crack, and I could see those dark bugs crawling out from the pores in his arms, marching down toward little-me.
I reacted.
I grabbed onto my dad's arm and pulled him off little-me. I heard the sound of my shirt ripping as she was torn from his grip and pulled out of the car, diffusing through it like a ghost. My brief victory was immediately overturned as I saw what was now clearly the demon smiling at me, his wretched fingers curled around my forearm.
"Caught you," He sneered.
Then the whole world once again diffused into countless numbers of particles, only this time, instead of riding through it, I felt like I was falling through an elevator shaft with each floor darker than the last. The further I fell, the less I became aware of my surroundings, and the more I felt a deep sense of loneliness. It was as if I was the only person in the whole world: and the whole world was a prison designed entirely for me. This went on for so long, I began to forget who I was. Where I was. What was.
And then I landed.
***
Source Used:
Jung, Carl. Synchronicity. Translated by Sonu Shamdasani, Princeton University Press, 2010.

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Content Warning: Domestic Abuse
***
We pulled off I-51 a little after midnight, stopping at a truck stop which was couched between the highway and a large forest.
We waited in the van for ten minutes or so. Trent had increased the sonar radius to its maximum of 30 miles a little over an hour ago. Somehow the red pings had kept up with us, holding a steady distance of around 20 miles. Considering we were averaging around 80 mph, and a coyote's top speed is only around 40 mph, we figured they had been enhanced in some way. Either that, or they shape-shifted into something faster. Regardless, now that we had stopped, we waited to see if the demon spawn would try and close the distance. Luckily, or unluckily, they didn't. They kept their 20 mile buffer, but we noticed they were beginning to spread out along the circumference of that boundary.
"We're close. They know that, so they're trying to trap us in." Trent said.
"Trying to?—more like they have."
We considered whether we should stay in the van and keep watch, but we figured that would do us little good. At their speed, they could be on us in ten minutes, which means we would need to stay up all night and keep tabs on their positions. Trent offered to stay up, of course, but I shut him down.
"The demon doesn't want to kill us now. You said it yourself. Plus, we need our rest. If they come, they come."
Trent didn't like it, but he acquiesced.
The truck stop had all the essentials: a gas station and mini mart with showers and an attached McDonald's, a large parking lot for truckers to idle and sleep, and even a section with lodging for those who wanted a more comfortable night's rest. I told Trent that he should take advantage of the showers, and after a little convincing, he agreed. While he was cleaning himself up, I patrolled the dingy, half-stocked aisles of "Daisy's Quick Mart". I probably would have been appalled at the quality of the store had I actually been paying any attention to it whatsoever. But I wasn't. I was thinking hard about what awaited me tomorrow.
During the drive, I had asked Trent why the demon would want us to return to the crash site. What did he mean that I would be 'confronting a dark entity in a place he couldn't help me'? He seemed hesitant to answer, but my little stunt outside the storage facility seemed to have sufficiently motivated him.
"When I said I've never done this before, I meant it." Trent started. "I've never done this exact thing before—meaning I've never projected someone into the past."
"So, I'm time traveling?" I asked.
"No—don't think of it like that." Trent paused, trying to come up with a good explanation. "It's more like I'm opening a window for you to look through: not a door. You're going to see the past, but you can't interact with the physicalities there. But that doesn't mean you can't interact with anything."
There was a space of silence as Trent tried to let me work out his meaning for myself. "I don't get it. Are you saying there's something I can interact with? Like what?" And then it hit me. "The demon. The demon can interact with me? Meaning what? It can kill me?"
"Meaning… I'm not exactly sure. You're going to be in a kind of psychic space. If it does damage, it won't be to your body. It'll be to your mind—or spirit. But I don't know what the limits of that damage could be. I just don't have those answers."
"If you've never done this, how do you know any of it will work?"
"That's an easy one." Trent answered. "Because it's been done to me."
There was silence.
"Look, if I know anything, I know my tech. Don't doubt that this will work. It's my job to make sure it does. I just need you to be in the right mental for this. Just because it knows your coming doesn't mean it automatically has the upper hand. It won't be able to see you unless you make contact with it first. In other words, you have to initiate contact. As long as you remain a spectator, you should be okay. Trust me. Just don't make contact."
I started pacing faster—fast enough to catch the attention of the overnight shift worker, a young man whose name I can't quite remember. I know it started with a "J". Jake, maybe? Anyway, he asked if I was alright, to which I responded in the affirmative. He left me alone for another couple passes, but when I almost ran into one of the shelves, he stood up and said, "Uh—I'm going to have to ask you to stop running around. I don't want you to hurt yourself."
I must have stared daggers at him, because he recoiled from my gaze. What's gotten into me? I thought. Then, steadying myself, I apologized. I looked around and grabbed the nearest edible looking piece of merchandise: a bag of Swedish Fish, and placed it down on the counter. "Just this, please."
The cashier rang me up. It was surprisingly cheap.
"Are you sure you're alright?" the young man asked. He was tall with brown hair. He seemed tired—maybe even more tired than me. But he also seemed kind.
I smiled as best I could and said, "No, I'm not. But there's not really anything you can do. Hell, there might not be anything I can do." I furrowed my eyebrows at my own response, realizing that imminent death may have broken my verbal filter.
On the other hand, the cashier did not seem surprised at all. "Ah, I see. It's one of those problems." He responded. "Well, hey, for what it's worth, you seem like one of the resilient ones. I think you'll be alright."
I only smiled and nodded at his mildly cryptic comment. Looking back, the whole interaction was a bit strange, but I had way too much mental clutter to recognize that in the moment. I took my Swedish Fish and walked through the anteroom which led to McDonald's. I found an open yellow booth that wasn't littered with crumpled straw sleeves and sat down, chomping mindlessly on my little red fish until Trent returned. When he arrived, he took my place, and I went to shower. After we were both clean and fed, we returned to the van. The pings were still pushed safely out of harm's way. But that didn't mean we were out of harm's way. Trent asked me if I wanted to sleep in the van, saying that "it'd be the safest place."
I thought it over. He was right, obviously. The van was not only outfitted with weapons I couldn't even begin to understand, but it was also our escape, and it would be just as difficult, if not more difficult to break into than the studio-style motel rooms with their wood doors and big windows. Still, if this was going to be my last night on earth, I wanted to sleep in a bed. A real bed. Trent understood and said he'd stay parked right outside my room for the night.
After purchasing a key from the night attendant, I moseyed over to the cement walkways which connected the twenty or so rooms. Mine was room #56, which I thought was odd since, like I said, there were only 20 rooms. I lugged in my tomato plushie and dad's old book and placed them on the queen mattress.
"I'll be right outside." Trent said after I collapsed onto the bed.
"Trent," I called out, stopping him half-way through the door.
"Yeah?"
All the blood in my body rushed up to my face as I realized my unfiltered mouth almost reflexively said the word "stay". I stared at Trent, my heart beating, my face hot. I considered asking him to sleep on the floor like my dad, but that would be childish and impolite. The alternative was to share my bed… Or I could take the floor.
"I'll just be right outside." Trent said before my mind processed a solution. "Come by if you need anything. I'll be up most of the night anyway."
"Okay," I replied in a faint voice.
Trent shut the door.
I sat atop the bedsheets and acquainted myself with my new living space. A feeling of regret closed over me as I considered that even sleeping on a carseat would have been better if it meant I didn't have to be alone. With a sigh, I turned on the bedside lamp and grabbed the book and stuffed tomato, using the tomato as a backrest as I slipped my legs under the covers and situated the book upright on my thighs. I cracked it open and was immediately blasted with a puff of dusty, old book scent. It was ripe at first, and I turned my head away to sneeze, but as I perused through the pages, the scent grew on me. It reminded me of the days growing up when I'd step into dad's study and read through one of the many volumes on cryptic topics which were at least two college degrees above my Lexile range.
I was only a couple minutes into browsing the collection of different scientific and philosophical works when I came across a page which contained highlighted text. This was unusual, as my dad would never mark up his books. He was a purist on that point. I rubbed my thumb over the yellow lines, and sure enough, it was highlighter.
The highlighted text was part of a small book by Carl Jung called "Synchronicity". There were a total of three pages that were marked, and they advanced like this:
Page 5:
The philosophical principle that underlies our conception of natural law is causality*. But if the connection between cause and effect turns out to be only statistically valid and relatively true, then the causal principle is only of relative use for explaining natural processes… That is as much to say that the connection of events may in certain circumstances be other than causal, and require another principle of explanation.*
Page 19:
…there are events which are related to one another experimentally, and in this case meaningfully*, without there being any possibility of proving that this relation is a causal one, since the "transmission" exhibits none of the known properties of energy…a situation which does not yet exist and will only occur in the future could transmit itself as a phenomenon of energy to a receiver in the present…Therefore, it cannot be a question of cause and effect, but of a falling together in time, a kind of simultaneity... "synchronicity"*
Page 22:
A young woman I was treating had, at a critical moment, a dream in which she was given a golden scarab. While she was telling me this dream I sat with my back to the closed window. Suddenly I heard a noise behind me, like a gentle tapping. I turned round and saw a flying insect knocking against the window pane from outside. I opened the window and caught the creature in the air as it flew in. It was the nearest analogy to a golden scarab that one finds in our latitudes, a scarabaeid beetle, the common rose-chafer… which contrary to its usual habits had evidently felt an urge to get into a dark room at this particular moment.
I flipped through the rest of the pages of the book. There was no more highlighted text, but there was a message on the last page which read:
Matthew 7:7-8
I'll meet you in the darkest place.
He also included his typical smiley face which had an ovular shape and three sprouts of hair which I now realized kind of resembled my tomato plushie. It was my dad's writing, of course. But why? And how? What did this mean?
The motel had a Bible stashed away in the nighstand drawer. I got it out and looked up the verses which read the following:
Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you: for every one that asketh receiveth; and he that seeketh findeth; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened.
I spent maybe an hour ruminating on all of this. The whole discourse on energy and causality and a "falling together in time" just seemed so right. It was clear that my dad definitely did know what I was going through, but for whatever reason, he made it seem like he was oblivious. Why had he hidden that from me? I felt like I was being pulled in two directions. On the one hand, my dad loved me enough to leave this note, maybe even knowing the exact moment I'd need it. But on the other hand, he had neglected my struggles throughout my entire childhood. He even lied at times. Was this really enough to make up for all of that?
And then there was the section about the future transmitting energy to the past. I read back through the whole paragraph and the original writer had meant it to say this as something that wasn't possible, but my dad's highlighting made it seem like he wanted to flip the meaning. The future does affect the past. I thought about where I was headed and wondered if I would soon discover that for myself.
Lastly, dad's message. The Bible verse reminded me of the first time I prayed; how I reached out to God and received peace as an answer to my prayer. Now I feel like I'm actively seeking… something, but I don't know yet what I'll find. And then there's knocking. At first that reminded me of the story with the beetle tapping on the window, but then I went back even deeper in my memory and dug out the monster tapping at my window, and the words my dad spoke to me in order to set my mind at ease: "you're a superhero. And you know what your greatest superpower is? Your greatest power is you get to tell the monsters what to do. Because the monsters are only as strong as the stories you tell about them…so if you're ever scared, honey, just dream up a better story."
I was crying into my stuffed tomato now. I felt like all the blinking pieces of my life had finally been pulled together into a completed puzzle. This was all by design. My entire life, filled with so much chaos and confusion, was actually preparing me for this moment. And my dad thought I had the tools and strength enough to get through it. I flipped through the book one more time, thinking maybe he had left some other hidden comment—some formula to defeat this demon and return home. But there was nothing. Only that one comment: "I'll meet you in the darkest place."
What's the darkest place, dad? Is that where I'm going? Are you saying you'll be there, too?
With those thoughts in mind, my eyes became heavy shutters which, with a slight pressure on the pulley, winded shut. My swimming thoughts and firework-like fears dissipated, and I returned to a precious childhood memory. It was after an evening soccer practice. Summer. Dad was driving me to Dairy Queen. I got a cherry-dipped twist cone. I was happy.
So, so happy.
***
I woke up to sunlight blaring through my windows. Shit, I overslept, was my immediate thought. I threw off my covers and opened the front door. A glance at the clock showed 1:13 PM. I shouldn't have even been allowed to stay checked in this long. Damn, am I gonna get double-billed for this?
I heard a rummaging sound around the corner of my motel room. It sounded like a squirrel was trying to find an afternoon snack in one of the garbage bins. I stepped outside. The sun was extremely bright, to the point where I had to squint and put my hand over my eyes to even see the ground in front of me. I was trying to walk toward the van, but somehow I ended up in front of the trash bins where the animal's tail was sticking out from a turned-over, silver garbage can. Its tail was wagging excitedly, and I remember thinking that it was much too large to be a squirrel.
The animal bent down as if biting onto something, and I heard the sound of its growl as it struggled to tug whatever it was free from the barrel. Inch by inch, the creature backed out of the canister, and more of its sharp, sticky hair was revealed. I heard something snap, then the creature leapt back and I saw what it was chomping on. My eyes widened in horror as the pink tube of a human intestine was pulled taut like the end of a tangled hose. Blood and entrails were spilling out of the human's opened gut. And then, behind the canine, I saw the person's face. His face was pale white, his eyes closed, and his hair was slicked back… It was Trent.
Before I could react, I heard footsteps approaching from behind. I whirled around and saw my dad. But—no, it wasn't him. It was someone wearing a paper-mache face mask that was painted to look like my dad. The forehead of the mask was already beginning to crack, white specks breaking off like sawdust. Through the cracks, I could see the figure's true form. I didn't know darkness had its own type of light, but that's the only way to describe it. It was as if malevolence itself was reified into a skin which was actually an amalgamation of millions of little, oozing parasites that leached into the nearby light. When it finally spoke, the demon's voice was a full octave lower than the old man's at the deli. And it had an earth-stilling gravitas.
"Today's the day!" He sang and reached into his pocket. His lips curled upward into a foxy smirk. "You have no idea how long I've waited for this day." He said and held up a razor blade. Half his facade had already fallen apart, and now I could see the bugs up close, writhing in what was either horror or ecstasy. And his scent… it was somehow more rank than the rabid coyote rummaging through the trash can with Trent's cut open body inside. The demon closed in on my position, and in one, decisive motion, he brought the blade close to his chin, then sliced it across my throat. "Wake up!" He screamed.
I jumped out of my bed and grabbed my throat, feeling the cold sting of its quick slice. Hyperventilating, I patted the area down, trying to hold the blood in, but when I removed my hands, I saw they were dry. It was only a dream, I thought. Gray light was only beginning to filter in through the drapes. I'm in my hotel room. I'm safe. I tried consoling, but the pragmatic mental massages weren't enough to hold the force of my knees buckling. I dropped onto the carpet and cried for a long while.
Outside, rain was beginning to fall.
***
By the time I met up with Trent, I had already composed myself and decided to keep my dad's message and the nightmare to myself. None of it seemed particularly productive from a logistical standpoint, anyway. And I wanted to focus on the mission.
We stopped by McDonald's and bought a couple cups of coffee. Trent asked if I wanted any food, and I declined. Black coffee seemed like the only thing my stomach could take at the present moment. I could tell Trent was hungry, but he tried playing it off (I guess to be respectful of me?) I told him to knock it off and get something to eat. I didn't need my Charon getting lightheaded and dropping the paddle before he finished rowing me to Hell. He didn't care much for my joke, but he ordered a couple Chicken McGriddles at the kiosk anyway.
There were maybe ten patrons spread throughout the restaurant. We sat down at the same booth from the prior night, this time across from one another. Trent spent the first ten minutes or so babbling about our fuel supply and the logistics of the trip from here on in. Practical stuff. I've come to realize that's how he deals with his stress. He talks it out in short, durable sentences. I mostly nodded and watched as what looked like a storm front closed in on the truck stop. The sky was overcast, and there were darker clouds in the distance. The rain was still only a patter, but a middle-aged man wearing a yellow bow tie on the wall-mounted TV confirmed that there would be heavier rain and thunderstorms very soon.
After the worker delivered Trent's food and he ate it in record time, I posed the one question that was still on my mind.
"How do I fight him?" I asked.
Trent finished a large gulp of his coffee, then looked at me. It was the first substantial thing I'd said all morning; Trent could tell something was off with me, but he figured there was no point in asking what it was. "By 'him', I assume you mean the demon?"
I nodded.
Trent licked his teeth clean. "You could try praying again."
"I'm serious," I responded.
"I'm serious, too. It worked before, didn't it?"
"You mean at my house?"
Trent nodded.
"I thought you weren't a religious man?"
"I'm not. Just a practical one. If praying worked before, maybe it'll work again."
"That's the best you've got? A maybe?"
"No, I've got a lot of shit better than a maybe." He answered. "It's just not accessible where you're going. Which is why I recommend not making contact on the first run."
"First run? So we're going to do this more than once?"
"At least," Trent answered. Then, seeing my expression, he continued. "What? You thought this was going to be a one-and-done? We have to conduct some research first. I did tell you this was new for me, right?"
Somehow Trent's response had set my mind at ease a little. I was going to have more than one chance. Of course, why wouldn't I be able to go back more than once?
"Why didn't you tell me this earlier? It would have gone a long way in easing my mind."
Trent lifted his hands in defense. "Sorry, I just thought that was a given. I mean, what we're doing is dangerous, just like I said, but it doesn't mean we aren't going to approach this as safely and scientifically as possible. However, there is a different problem with running multiple trials."
"The Organization?"
"That's right," Trent said like a proud parent. "Our little experiment will be like a giant spotlight, and the longer we wait around after it's on us, the greater the chance we'll have unwelcome company."
"So, safe but speedy."
"Safe but speedy. Exactly."
***
We fueled up and were back on the road a little after 8:00. From that point on, Trent and I were absolutely silent. I had the distinct feeling of being in the eye of a storm. The pings moved closer commensurate with our progress toward the crash site. The cloudfront continued its advance. And I noticed a haze beginning to descend onto the road ahead of us. It was fog.
We meandered further inland, the forest thickening around us until the rain almost stopped entirely—the leaves drinking it up before it fell onto our windshield. I kept my eyes on the radar. We were approaching the large yellow circle which indicated we had arrived. As we pulled closer, I began to feel things. Fear. Eeriness. Doubt. Then happiness. Hope. Love. Normally feelings like these had a clear source to picture, but these sensations came on in waves without any discernible reason. It was almost as if they were blinking into existence inside me.
"Here we go," Trent said like an airline pilot readying his crew for turbulence.
I still recall the exact moment we crossed the boundary into the area of higher energy. It was like something just "clicked" in my brain, and all of a sudden everything felt so much closer. The sound of the rain against the trees was almost right next to my ear. The trees in the distance would oscillate between their position a half-mile out, then suddenly seem five meters away. If I focused on something long enough, it began to radiate those same ethereal particles as when Trent released Ava's "phase lock". I checked to make sure the shifter wasn't set to "TD". Sure enough, it was still in drive.
"Can you see them?" Trent asked. "The shifts?"
"Yeah," I said in a dreamy voice. I felt like I was driving through a wonderland.
"It's the energy. I barely notice a difference. A bit of movement in the trees, but not much else. But I'm sure for you, it's a whole experience."
"What is this?" I raised my hand and caught some of the pixel dust dripping off the sun visor. It disappeared when it made contact with my hand.
"It's a kind of radiation. Everything emits it, just in different quantities. I'm still not exactly sure how it relates to the other realms, but I'm guessing it's a kind of primordial matter that helps connect our worlds."
"It's beautiful," I exclaimed. "I wish I could see the world like this all the time."
"Maybe you will," Trent whispered.
As we arrived at the crash site, I began to get glimpses of the past. My childhood dreams and memories were pushing their way out from my subconscious. I noticed an increased number of blinks, which were validated by Ava who reported the following: "Currently detecting 14,350 novel emergences and 2,777 controlled agents. Net anomalies: 2,777."
"That's a lot of blinks." I remarked. "Why doesn't Ava include them in the net anomalies?"
Trent turned his head so I could see his smirk. "Because blinks aren't anomalies."
I thought about it for a second. Blinks aren't anomalies. "I never thought about it that way."
"It's hard to think about it that way when 'normal' for most people means not picking up on a fundamental aspect of reality. But that doesn't make it any less real."
We continued past the epicenter of the yellow circle. "Are we not stopping?" I asked. "I think we already passed the crash site."
"It doesn't have to be exactly at the site," Trent said. "Plus, we don't want to stop on the side of the road and risk getting some civilian involved. There's a field about half a mile up ahead. I'm going to pull off the road and set up camp there.
The "field" that Trent was referring to was actually a large clearing that dipped down into several trench-like troughs which were filled to the brim with fog like witches cauldrons. Further on in the distance, I saw open fields, probably used for farming, and then a large hill where the trees once again reasserted themselves. We had pulled off the road and up a small incline where the trees had already been broken down, leaving a trail for us to drive through. When we surfaced at the edge of the clearing, Trent pulled us onto a flat bed of dried mud which was maybe thirty yards long.
"Here," he said with a sigh.
We both sat for a minute, looking around at the field. We had finally arrived. The rain was beginning to pick up, and the dark sky made it almost impossible to discern the time of day.
"You ready?" Trent asked.
I looked at him. Really looked at him. In his blue eyes. Was I ready? Did it even matter?
"Let's do this," I said.
***
This was the first time I was really able to inspect the back of Trent's van. He had talked up his gear a lot, and honestly, I was impressed. Not in the way that a scientist is impressed by another scientist's lab—I wasn't any kind of expert—but it still seemed remarkably well managed. Now that I was in a state where my vision had been enhanced, I could actually see the enigmatic particles circulating through the pneumatic tubes which were coiled like the pipes and valves of an elaborate wind instrument. The walls of the van, itself, were glistening white, making it easier to make out everything else inside. Along the floor were five overturned columns. Each column was dark and had a vibrating quality, as if they were charged with energy. Then atop the center three columns was a small altar which supported an apparatus with two skinny, metal arms holding a silver halo. At present, the arms were folded and the halo was suspended a few inches above the altar, faced-down. I thought maybe I'd see particles exuding from it, but instead it was emitting visible waves which bent and warped everything they touched.
"That thing is emitting a lot of energy." I remarked, gesturing toward the halo.
Trent stepped in between the columns and started pulling out the packages he had stuffed in there yesterday. "Just wait till' it's on."
Most of the packages contained only a single piece of equipment, and were otherwise packed with foam peanuts. We carefully removed each box and set them on the ground outside. I asked if the rain would damage any of the stuff inside, to which Trent only laughed and continued lugging out the boxes. When they were all out, Trent removed a box cutter from his pocket and went one-by-one opening them. There were eight pieces in total.
"What is it?" I asked as we fished the first item out.
"It's another apparatus, like the one inside. Except it'll mount on the ground out here."
I pulled out what looked like a metal tripod.
"Good, that'll go on the bottom."
"Where are we setting it up?"
"Over here," Trent said and stepped five paces away from the van. He coordinated himself up so he was centrally aligned with the inner ring, then stomped a few times. "This is the spot."
As we continued to work, I asked Trent about how the whole contraption works.
"Do you remember the first time we were in the van? When we had to escape from the semi-truck?" Trent asked and connected a secondary mounting apparatus on top of the tripod. It had four spider-like legs that made right angles and stuck into the ground.
"Of course," I said. "The 'phase lock'."
"Yeah," Trent said and gestured toward the metal stick that was in my hand. I handed it to him. "The phase lock is a seal on the level of energy that the van is allowed to release. It also controls its dispersion pattern so that it releases its energy in a steady wave. This allows Ava to scan for anomalies without causing us to become an anomaly." Trent stuck the plank into the neck of the tripod.
"So when you released the phase lock, we started emitting more energy."
"That's right." Trent confirmed. "Enough to create an alternate route through a different realm."
"So we blinked into a different realm, then back, just to avoid that truck?"
"That's right."
"But why couldn't we just move out of the way?"
"Because it had locked onto us. It was tracking our motion and adjusting its course based on the amount of energy we were emitting. So in order to escape, we had to radically skew our potential energy and then use it to shift."
"Couldn't he have just followed us?"
Trent connected four more pieces to the device which now looked like an elaborate teepee. He was fishing in the last box when he spoke again. "Yeah, he could have. But it was highly improbable that he would have found us." Trent returned from the bottom of the box with another silver ring in hand. "Think of it like this. Let's say you're trying to escape from some bad guy who's coming after you, and you enter a new room you've never seen before. Would you prefer this room to have three doors to go through, or ten?"
I thought about his riddle for a second, then responded, "It depends where they go."
Trent fastened the ring atop the teepee. "Let's say they all lead to random places, or let's say they're all closets that lead nowhere. The key is that more is better, because the more doors he has to check, the less likely he is to pick the correct one. Make sense?"
"So we opened up a bunch of doors and escaped through one at random?"
"Hence the gear 'TD', for 'Trap Door'."
I marveled at the insights, but not for long. Trent hopped back in the van and pulled a lever that I hadn't seen until now. The two metal arms raised the inner ring until it was perpendicular with the altar. Then Trent clicked one of three red buttons along the back wall, and I saw what looked like a large, glass eye suspended in a magnifying glass protruding from the wall, aligned with the center of both rings. A couple seconds later, the glass eye began to focus the energy which was being fed to it from the pneumatic tubes, and a blue pyramid of light projected from it into the first ring, then from the first ring into the second ring. All three pieces were aligned at slightly diminishing heights, so the cylinder of light beamed through the second ring, into the ground.
"Alright, time for the first trial."
I felt the nerves starting up in my stomach. Trent sensed this and hopped out of the truck. It was raining quite hard now, though it was still warm. Both Trent and I were soaked, but that hardly concerned us. He reached out and put his hand on my shoulder. "I know you're feeling scared." He said. "But trust me on this. You're going to do fine. Just keep in mind what we talked about. Stay a spectator. Okay?"
I looked into his blue eyes, which seemed especially gray in the dark. Still, Trent's voice was reassuring. All I had to do was trust him. Trust myself. Trust my dad. And it was all going to turn out right.
"I'm ready," I said.
Trent was still for a second, holding my eyes in his. Then he guided me behind the outer ring and into the cylinder of light.
"I should step into it now?" I asked, afraid I'd be called away immediately.
"It's not on yet, so don't worry. I still have to press another button."
I followed Trent's instructions and stood in the blue light which was centered on my chest. Then I watched as Trent ran into the back of the van and posted up next to the glass eye. "Ready?" He yelled out. It was hard to hear him over the rain, but I yelled back. "Ready!"
The next thing I saw was a blinding blue light beam from the van. I heard what sounded like a laser, then saw the cylinder oscillate, expanding and compressing. When the energy reached the second ring, I saw everything around me light up—it looked brighter than noon on a cloudless day. Then the oscillations made their way to me, and I was swallowed up whole.
***
When I came to, I was in the backseat of a car. I felt my butt rumbling. Everything was dim and quiet. And then I heard a woman's voice from in front of me.
"Mark, please, not with Lauren in the back."
The man, who I now identified as my father, pulled the cigarette away from his lips and blew the smoke at my mom. He eyed the back seat where I was sitting, using one of five markers that hadn't rolled off my lap to color a rabbit in my animal color book.
"The kid's fine." he said and took another drag.
"Mark," my mom repeated.
I saw my dad raise his hand in a rapid motion. "I said she's fine, Cheryl. Now check the map and make sure we're going the right away. I can't see shit with all this fog."
I took a moment to make sure I was really in the back seat. I patted myself. I clearly had weight. Then I tried touching the car. At first, my fingertips met a solid surface, but when I tried to press through, my hand slipped into the car. I quickly pulled my hand away as if I had reached into a fire.
That's when I heard the little three year old next to me start crying. I turned and saw that little-me had dropped another couple markers onto the ground and was struggling to reach them.
"Hey!" my dad shouted. "What did I say about crying?"
"Quit it, Mark. She just dropped her markers." said my mom; she turned to help me pick them up.
"What did you say to me?" Mark spat with a voice full of guile. He reached out and pushed her back into her seat. "Don't," he commanded. "She has to learn how to deal with life."
"Deal…" My mom started in disbelief. "Deal with life? Do you hear yourself? What's gotten into you?"
"Sometimes shit happens. It doesn't give her the right to cry. You helping her is just going to reinforce her behavior."
"Her behavior? What about your behavior? You're acting like a total dick."
I didn't even have a moment to react before my dad's hand was across my mom's face. I felt the slap more than I heard it, my own face seeming to swell with the force of the blow. I saw my mom cover her mouth and lean away. Then little-me began to cry even louder, which only challenged my dad to step up his own volume.
"Everyone needs to get a fucking grip before I crash this car." My dad shouted and took another drag. The scariest part was I couldn't tell if he was warning us or threatening us. I felt the sudden urge to do something. There was no way this was real. I was definitely in some fantasy concocted by the demon. He wanted to turn me against my dad. That was the only explanation for something like this. My dad was a good man, not… this.
As I contemplated what to do, I saw a small, golden light appear behind little-me's window. Apparently she saw it, too, because her cries hushed as she traced the wisp with her eyes. After a second, the wisp transformed into a bunny rabbit, reminiscent of the one she was coloring. The rabbit hopped alongside the window, then did a couple circles in place. I watched little me let out a playful laugh and reach toward the window.
"What's going on back there?" my dad asked with a scowl. Apparently the only sound more disturbing than cries were laughs.
I looked back to the front and saw my mom wiping blood from her lip. Her expression was miserable. "Leave her alone, Mark."
"I'll do whatever I damn well want to do, Cheryl. It's my kid back there."
My mom was quiet.
When I looked back toward the rabbit, it was no longer a rabbit but a person. Or at least it looked like a person. The figure radiated pure gold, and atop his head was what appeared to be a King's crown. I recalled Allison's experience of seeing the sun-like figure in her moment of distress. Was that what was happening here? Was this really all true?
"Hey!" My dad shouted, eyeing little-me from the rear-view mirror. "What are you reaching at?"
I looked and saw the golden figure extending his hand toward the window, and little me's hand was reaching back. "Mom, dad, it bright." little-me said.
"What's bright, honey?" my mom asked.
"Don't encourage her, Cheryl."
"Someone there!" little me shouted happily and dropped the rest of the markers and the coloring book onto the ground.
"Who's there?" asked my mom.
"Cheryl, I swear to God. Sit the fuck down."
Everything from that moment on happened so quickly I barely had any time to process it. My mom lifted out of her seat to either get little me's attention or help me pick up my coloring book. My dad responded by grabbing onto her throat, letting go of the steering wheel entirely. He threw her back against the car door, and her head hit the window so hard, the glass cracked. My dad had dropped his cigarette, and I could smell smoke coming from under his seat, but that didn't seem to bother him at all. He turned toward little-me at the same moment my three-year-old hand reached out and grabbed onto the golden figure, whose hand diffused through the window. When my dad turned, I got a whiff of the most awful smell that I wouldn't have been able to place had I not had that nightmare last night. He grabbed onto little-me's shoulder and tugged her away from the golden figure that was trying to pull her the other way. My dad's facade began to crack, and I could see those dark bugs crawling out from the pores in his arms, marching down toward little-me.
I reacted.
I grabbed onto my dad's arm and pulled him off little-me. I heard the sound of my shirt ripping as she was torn from his grip and pulled out of the car, diffusing through it like a ghost. My brief victory was immediately overturned as I saw what was now clearly the demon smiling at me, his wretched fingers curled around my forearm.
"Caught you," He sneered.
Then the whole world once again diffused into countless numbers of particles, only this time, instead of riding through it, I felt like I was falling through an elevator shaft with each floor darker than the last. The further I fell, the less I became aware of my surroundings, and the more I felt a deep sense of loneliness. It was as if I was the only person in the whole world: and the whole world was a prison designed entirely for me. This went on for so long, I began to forget who I was. Where I was. What was.
And then I landed.
***
Source Used:
Jung, Carl. Synchronicity. Translated by Sonu Shamdasani, Princeton University Press, 2010.

Having seen some talk about Wargames lately, and thinking about the implementation of Artifacts I wanted to put a post together trying to put together my critique with them and why I think they have issues.
In general, I think almost all of them suffer from being largely uninteresting and while this is partly a problem that stems from more broad gameplay issues I think a lot also stem from the implementation.
And I want to kind of break the upgrades down here unit by unit, and explore where I think they succeed and fail and why. As well as a few ways to increase variety. To preface I am operating off the assumption that fleets should be moving away from generally hyper focusing on one unit types and should be combined arms. And that upgrades should offer compelling choice on how each fleet handles its problems and should lay itself out. I will also include easy ideas that are still stat changes, and more out there ones.
For general and universal issues I feel that there's no real reason to specialize, since no ships get significant damage bonuses against any other just driving twenty assault frigates down the throat of a destroyer works about as well as twenty ions. I'd like to see more degrees of specialization where anti strike craft fire struggles against capitals, and anti capital fire is more effective to make specialization more meaningful, which by itself encourages more varied Artifact choices.
I'll just be looking at Hiigaran fleets for now, Incarnate shares many of the same general issues and maybe can be looked at later.
General Artifacts

• Support Systems: There needs to be a corvette support, obvioustly. I also feel that frigate support should not reduce pop cap for other vessels and instead just grant less on its own. These should encourage more varied fleets, not hyperfocusing.
  
• Carrier Upgrades: Assault is just bad, I like what it is doing but frankly it doesn't really need the pop cap decreases, it already costs you a limited slot just to take. Remove the downsides and its at least worth doing sometimes. Guardian is a lot more worthwhile just because of the extra choices, but even then is mid at best but I don't hate it. Frankly I think they are fine as is and need tweaks more then total reworks.
  
• Ship Patterns: They are fine by and large, but regardless of how good or bad what they unlock is the idea they present is amongst the best of the artefacts. They offer a meaningfully different experience to the player and there should be more of them. Balance what they got, but add more.
  
• Totally not Shaped Glass: AKA, danger zone. Again, interesting because the magnitude of its effects are so significant that it can result in some very interesting changes and help define runs. Its just a pretty interesting design. Not always good, but interesting.
  

The Hiigarans

• Recon: The upgrades here just turn recons into interceptors. If I wanted interceptors I should just build interceptors. One pattern should focus on disposable swarm tactics with high increase to cap, mild stat buffs, and RU cost reduction. The other should be fleet support based, move fast, be durable, and have good sensors. Ancillary upgrades to increase alpha damage to encourage hit and run?
  
• Interceptor: Interceptors are just what if inty, but more. Neither pattern meaningfully changes how one wants to use them. I'd change one to an escort pattern with bonuses to range and survivability, focused on creating zones of fire around other ships to clear strike craft. The other could be similar to the harrier where its more dogfight focused. Honestly just not too much design space here?
  
• Bombers: The first pattern I'm actually okay with is here. Fleet bomber is... fine. I'd remove the rate of fire bonus in favor of it being a slow, vulnurable, first strike style of play relying on cloak. But its not bad. I'd like to see a Flak pattern too though that inverts the bomber trope and makes them more focused on dogfighting with large splash radius and area damage, make them garbage against big things but able to shred dense knots of smaller ships. [Hullbreaker has some bonuses there, but not enough focus.]
  
• Railgun Corv: Arguably the least interesting pattern in the game lies here, Vulcan is just boring AND still kind of bad. Siege is less bad, but still kind of weird because the name is a lie. Vulkan is fine but make it a close in pattern where you get closer and brawl, add durability and reduce range. Siege needs a range boost as well to once again create two more defined roles for the most underloved ship in the game. Frankly though I just forget about these constantly so am less sure how to even address their patterns.
  
• Supression Frigate: Sure does exist! Would like to again effectively see a change to make it a long ranged high velocity ammo light craft killer. Snipe supression points as they come in, but honestly this ship just sort of has an identity issue and I'm not sure what patterns could save it.
  
• Support Frigate: Why are you even here? I'm not even sure what patterns you could have, the only one I could think of would be larger repair range or can repair two targets at once.
  
• Assault Frigate: Once again one with a concept I like, Berserker pattern is interesting in concept as you are trading away the signature durability of the assault frigates in return for making them pretty deadly. I'd like to see the damage bonus moved to Warden, and Wardens ROF bonus here. Zerker puts out the dakka, warden focuses more on area control. Warden as mentioned I feel is mostly fine but should be slower and more focused on up front damage and controlling a large area against light craft.
  
• Ion Cannons: These are some of the most questionable patterns in general. Sniper pattern should not just have its range bonus but also a huge damage bonus and rate of fire malus. It should be for spotting and performing powerful alpha strike attacks when massed. Volley pattern should be about high refire rate and agility, should make them turn like they just snorted a line of coke for just constant close in ion fire. [Also durability, and modest speed to actually survive that.] Frankly though ions are just underwhelming in general.
  
• Torpedoes: This is where I'd propose the most radical changes with patterns entirely altering the focus. I'd take a cue from the X games and have them function like M7M from that game. Unpatterned uses normal medium missiles. Bombardment focuses on long range, slow, and damaging torpedoes that focus on capital killing. Pacification entirely changes the missiles to fast tracking swarm munitions that don't do shit to anything bigger then a corvette, but are deadly there.
  

Overall Changes
I'd like to see more fleets and artifacts that focus more on more different playstyle. One where its all about building limited amounts of destroyers and supporting them and starting with guaranteed dessy patterns. One about having very limited fleet size but supporting a battlecruiser [once they don't suck]
Also, for most maps an enormous amount of the play area is functionally unused. Slow down the spawn timer a bit and spread things out to use more of the map and more dimensions within the maps. The biggest culprit is the first mission set with the trench between the big plates, that map uses less then a third of its play area. Also you know, just more maps.
In general there's a lot here, but I really think that if they are going to limit our roster they need to really make sure that any ship with artifacts supports at least two different gameplay feels, in a roguelite mode like this you want the choices to feel like choices and influence how your fleet is built. Right now its just hoping you get the ones that support your fleets 'point' and having a shit run if it doesn't. You want multiple paths to a successful fleet. But anyway this was too long, and I hope the sleep deprived rambling helps people put some feedback into solid form to help push BBI into the right direction here. Because despite Wargames being rough there still is a lot of promise here.

Hey, I've been trying my best to find this game but honestly what I remember is quite sparse though I filled the template to the best of my abilities.
Platform(s): Could be PS2,Xbox or Xbox 360
Genre: Third- person shooter (I remember it having shooter like mechanics with an over the shoulder view)
Estimated year of release: I mainly played this game somewhere in the early 2000s
Graphics/art style: Realistic, the models I remember had demonic-esque wings.
Notable characters:
Notable gameplay mechanics: Team deathmatch and domination style game modes, I think it may have been a red vs blue concept.
Other details:
I think I remember the main map being a cavern with a central platform that had a deep pit surrounding it then tunnels and platforms on the sides.
If anyone has a clue you're awesome it's been on my brain!

One day, I was sitting in my grandma's kitchen, idly watching her prepare her infamous spaghetti bolognese. She never followed any recipe, yet, the taste remained consistent every time. Intrigued, I asked her about the secret behind that consistency. With a knowing smile, she said, "It's all in the mind, kiddo!"
This left me bewildered until I dove into psychology and discovered two fascinating phenomena: mental shortcut (heuristics) and mental representation.
Think of Granny's spaghetti-making process like mental representation. She'd a clear mental image of the recipe, the ingredients, the steps involved, and the final product. It was like she had a mental map guiding her through the process. Similarly, we have mental representations of people, places, concepts, which help us understand and navigate the world around us.
Now, let's talk about mental shortcuts or heuristics. There was this one time when I was running late for work and couldn’t decide what to wear. I ended up picking my usual black pants and white shirt. No, not the most fashion-forward choice, but hey, it saved time! That's what heuristics are - quick, unconscious strategies our mind employs when a fast decision is needed or when facing complex situations.
To sum it up, if your mind is a kitchen, mental representations are your detailed, grandma-style recipes, and mental shortcuts are your quick-fix meals when you can't bother with a detailed recipe.
P.S. Just for fun: I don't have a recipe-enlightened grandma, and I have way more fashionable choices than a plain shirt and pants. But hey, everything's fair in love, war, and hypothetical stories to explain mental models!

Once upon a better than average Tuesday afternoon, I found myself engrossed in a lively conversation with my 6-year-old niece. We were exploring her elaborate LEGO creation. She explained each room, each LEGO person’s role, and their unique interactions within this world she created. As I listened, I realized I was witnessing a perfect illustration of what psychologists call a mental model.
In a nutshell, a mental model is a kind of internal map we form of the outside world, based on our experiences, knowledge, and perception. Just like my niece’s LEGO city, we build models in our minds of how things work, how people will react, and what might happen next. We constantly update these models as we gain new experiences or information.
Now, let’s contrast that with mental representation. This is more like a snapshot than a complex city layout. It’s a thought or image that pops into your mind when you think about something specific. If I mention "hot chocolate", you probably picture a warm mug, maybe with marshmallows or whipped cream. That's a mental representation.
The difference between a mental model and a mental representation? It’s like comparing my niece's detailed LEGO city (mental model) to a single LEGO brick (mental representation). Both are essential, but one is far more complex.
Curiously enough, this little chat with my niece made me realize why I kept failing in my resolution to jog in the mornings. My mental model of jogging was feeling sweaty, tired and out of breath, while the world still comfortably snoozed. However, my mental representation of a successful morning jog was a glorious sunrise, cool breeze, and a sense of accomplishment. Interesting, isn't it?
So, I had to adjust my mental model, focusing more on the pleasurable aftermath and the health benefits rather than the discomfort. Easier said than done, but hey, it’s a start!
P.S. I don’t actually have a 6-year-old niece building complex LEGO cities, but I thought it was a nice story to illustrate the concept. Also, I still detest jogging in the morning, but one can dream, right? Remember, it's all about tweaking those mental models.

Growing up, my grandfather used to tell me stories about his adventures as a sailor. He was an old-school mariner who has journeyed every corner of the seven seas. And one thing that always baffled me was his uncanny ability to navigate without modern technology. His instrument? A mental map.
So, imagine me being stranded in the woods - don't freak out, it's a hypothetical scenario. Initially, I'd be panicked and struggling to find my way back. Then, my grandfather's wisdom would kick in. I'd start using the sun as a compass, distinguishing landmarks, trying to chart out a mental map. The way back suddenly wouldn't seem so daunting anymore.
But here's the catch - mental maps are entirely based on my perception. They're subjective, influenced by my experiences and knowledge. For instance, in my mental map, the woods might look like a straight path back home when it actually wasn't.
Now, let's shift gears and talk about mental representation. It's like having a coded version of reality inside your head. For instance, if you imagined a dog, you don't necessarily need to picture a specific breed or color. You're tapping into the abstract concept of 'dog-ness' which your brain has represented from all dog encounters in your life.
In the woods scenario, it would be like remembering the 'general concept' of woods - trees, animals, plants, etc. Yet, it wouldn't necessarily help in specific navigation.
In summary, a mental map is like GPS, subjective and influenced by personal experiences. In contrast, mental representation is like a library of abstract concepts, helping you to perceive and interact with the world.
P.S. I'm glad this was a hypothetical scenario... I'd probably survive better in a mall than in the woods. So no, I didn't really get lost in the woods, but I hope this gives you a fun perspective on how mental maps and mental representations shape our lives daily!

I'll tell you, the moment I realized the difference between a mental framework and a prototype, it was like someone lit a bulb in my head. Imagine walking into a library for the first time. You aren't following any specific directions, nor do you have a map of the place. But you instinctively know the fiction section will be separate from the science and technology books. That's your mental framework working its charm.
Now let's bring a prototype into the picture. Your friend has published a book and has given you a copy. It has a particular size, a specific number of pages, a unique cover design. When you walk into the library now, you're looking for books that resemble your friend's - that's the prototype.
One day, I'm at the grocery store. My wife has tasked me with buying apples. Now, I know what an apple looks like, tastes like, feels like. I have a mental framework of what an apple is. So, I go to the fruit aisle, look for round, usually red or green fruits, and bingo - I've found what I'm looking for.
This one time though, she wanted this specific brand of apple cider - let's call it 'ZestyZap'. It came in a distinct green bottle, with a yellow label, and a little caricature of a dancing apple. Now, I'm looking for a prototype, a specific object that matches my mental image.
So, when you step back and look at it, a mental framework is basically a generalized mental model, a concept, whereas a prototype is a specific, tangible example of that concept.
Mental frameworks and prototypes are tools that help us navigate the world, make decisions, and simplify the complex. We use them without even realizing it, like Jedi mind tricks!
P.S. This is a hypothetical story, I'm not actually married, and I don't dance around grocery stores looking for fictitious apple cider. But who knows, maybe one day I will. Remember, life is all about the right mental models.

Last week, while hiking in some unfamiliar woods, I had an interesting experience that made me reflect on the difference between heuristics and mental maps. Before setting off, I had taken a glance at the map, thinking that would be enough to guide me. Well, I was wrong, and ended up getting lost.
The concept of a mental map was playing out in real-time for me. Mental maps are your brains' own GPS. It's how you perceive the environment around you and how you navigate it. I had an initial image in my head based on the map I glanced at before starting the hike, but as I kept navigating, it became increasingly abstract. I was interpreting the map based on the scenery I was seeing, but the problem was, the scenery kept changing.
In retrospect, what I needed was a heuristic strategy - some simple, efficient rules which people often use to form judgments and make decisions. They're mental shortcuts that help you solve problems and make quick decisions. Maybe if I had used a heuristic rule such as 'always follow the path that slopes downward when lost in the woods,' I might have found my way back more easily.
So, to cut the long story short, I eventually found my way back to civilization with the help of some fellow hikers. They taught me the valuable lesson of the importance of understanding and using heuristics and mental maps appropriately. This was a real-life example of cognitive psychology concepts at work!
P.S. Don't be like me! Take the time to study your maps carefully before you venture into unfamiliar territories. This was a hypothetical story, of course. Got you though, didn't I? Ha! But seriously guys, don't underestimate the importance of mental models in your daily life. You never know when they might come in handy.

I am somewhat new to PKMs so I thought I'd have a bit of fun querying Gemini on workflow considerations. The outputs are interesting and fairly insightful. Hence, I'm posting here to share. Hopefully this will be a bit useful to other new-to-PKM readers.

Please summarize PARA, CODE, and Zettelkasten.

Here's a summary of PARA, CODE, and Zettelkasten, all helpful methods for managing information and knowledge:
PARA (Projects, Areas, Resources, Archives):

• Focus: Organization system for your digital life.
• Action-oriented: Categorizes information based on its actionability:
  
• Projects (P): Actionable steps to complete specific goals (writing a book, planning a trip).
  
• Areas of Focus (A): Ongoing aspects you want to improve (health, finances).
  
• Resources (R): Reference materials for future use (articles, ebooks).
  
• Archives (A): Items kept for sentimental reasons but not readily needed (old emails, photos).
  
• Benefits: Reduced clutter, improved focus, better decision-making.
  

CODE (Capture, Organize, Distill, Express):

• Focus: Personal Knowledge Management (PKM) workflow.
• Process-oriented: Represents the steps for managing information:
  
• Capture (C): Gather information from various sources (books, notes, etc.).
  
• Organize (O): Store and categorize the captured information.
  
• Distill (D): Process information by summarizing, reflecting, or connecting it to existing knowledge.
  
• Express (E): Put your knowledge to use (writing, teaching, decision-making).
  
• Benefits: Active knowledge management, promotes critical thinking and learning.
  

Zettelkasten (Slip Box):

• Focus: Note-taking system for building a connected knowledge base.
• Content-oriented: Focuses on creating atomic notes (focused on a single idea) and linking related notes together.
• Key features:
  
• Atomic notes: Single ideas on separate slips (digital or physical) for flexibility and recombination.
  
• Linking notes: Creates connections between related ideas for a growing web of knowledge.
  
• Benefits: Encourages deeper thinking, fosters new connections, supports research and writing.
  

Choosing the right system:

• PARA: Ideal for general information organization and action planning.
• CODE: Applicable to any PKM system, emphasizes the knowledge management process.
• Zettelkasten: Useful for building a deep understanding of complex topics and fostering creativity.

Ultimately, the best system depends on your individual needs and goals. You can even combine elements of these methods to create your own personalized knowledge management approach.

Are PARA and CODE methodologies mutually exclusive or are they complimentary?

PARA and CODE are actually complementary, not mutually exclusive. Here's why:

• PARA focuses on organization: It provides a simple framework for categorizing all your digital information based on its purpose (projects, areas of focus, resources, archives).
• CODE focuses on workflow: It outlines the steps involved in managing your knowledge, regardless of where that information lives. (capture, organize, distill, express)

Here's how they work together:

• You can use PARA to organize the information you capture in step 1 of CODE. For example, notes captured during research for a project (P) would go in your project folder, while an interesting article on a broader topic (R) would be saved in your resources section.
• The CODE steps of distilling and expressing your knowledge can be applied to information within any PARA category. You might distill notes from a resource (R) to create a summary in your project (P) folder, or express an idea from an area of focus (A) through a blog post.

Benefits of using them together:

• Improved knowledge management: By using PARA to organize and CODE to process, you create a system that's both efficient and effective.
• Flexibility: You can adapt both methodologies to your specific needs and preferences.
• Deeper understanding: Integrating PARA and CODE encourages active learning and critical thinking with your captured information.

In short, PARA provides the "where" and CODE provides the "how" for managing your knowledge. You can use them independently, but using them together creates a powerful system for personal knowledge management.

Where does zettelkasten fit in?

Zettelkasten fits into the world of PARA and CODE as a specific note-taking system that can be used within the CODE framework and potentially complement your PARA organization. Here's how:

• Alignment with CODE: Zettelkasten aligns well with the Capture and Distill steps of CODE. You can capture ideas and information as atomic notes in your Zettelkasten. The process of linking related notes in Zettelkasten also contributes to the Distill step by helping you make connections and see the bigger picture.
• Integration with PARA: While Zettelkasten doesn't directly map to PARA categories, you can use PARA to organize your Zettelkasten notes. For example, you could create a project folder within your Zettelkasten for a specific project and link relevant notes from your main Zettelkasten to that project folder.
• Focus of Zettelkasten: Zettelkasten excels at building a connected knowledge base. By focusing on atomic notes and linking related ideas, it encourages deeper thinking and fosters new connections between concepts. This can be particularly beneficial for research and writing projects, but also for personal learning and exploration.

Here's a breakdown of how they might fit together:

1. Capture (CODE): You come across an interesting idea while reading a resource (relevant to your PARA "Resources" section).
2. Process in Zettelkasten: You capture the idea as an atomic note in your Zettelkasten.
3. Distill (CODE): You link the new note to existing notes in your Zettelkasten that share related concepts.
4. Express (CODE): When working on a project (relevant to your PARA "Projects" section), you can leverage the connections within your Zettelkasten to find relevant information and develop new insights.

Ultimately, the best way to use these systems together depends on your needs. You can experiment and find what works best for you. Here are some additional points to consider:

• Complexity: Zettelkasten can have a steeper learning curve compared to PARA or the basic idea of CODE.
• Customization: Both PARA and Zettelkasten offer flexibility to adapt them to your workflow.

By combining the strengths of PARA, CODE, and Zettelkasten, you can create a powerful system for capturing, organizing, and utilizing your knowledge for better learning and productivity.

Considering the 3 system approach you present, would it become too cumbersome to use daily or would it be very efficient? I don't want to spend too much time thinking about PARA/CODE/ZETTELKASTEN to the extent that I am messing with the systems rather than utilizing these systems to become more efficient and effective.

You're right to be concerned about the potential complexity of using PARA, CODE, and Zettelkasten together. While they can be very efficient, there's a tipping point where managing the systems themselves becomes counterproductive.
Here's a breakdown of how cumbersome it might be and how to achieve efficiency:
Potential for Cumbersomeness:

• Learning Curve: Each system has its own concepts to grasp.
• Friction Between Systems: Deciding which system to use for each piece of information can be time-consuming.
• Over-complication: Spending too much time on upkeep can take away from actual knowledge work.

Strategies for Efficiency:

• Start Simple: Begin with PARA, the most straightforward system for organizing information.
• Integrate Gradually: As you get comfortable with PARA, introduce CODE principles for processing information within your PARA structure.
• Focus on Workflow: Don't get bogged down in classifying every piece of information perfectly. The goal is to capture, process, and use knowledge, not to categorize it to death.
• Adapt to Your Needs: These systems are flexible. Tailor them to your specific workflow and learning style.
• Technology Can Help: Use note-taking apps or project management tools that can accommodate PARA and basic CODE principles. Some tools even have Zettelkasten-like features.

Remember:

• The goal is knowledge, not system mastery. Don't get hung up on perfectly implementing every detail.
• Focus on action. The true power comes from using the captured and processed information to achieve your goals.
• Experiment and iterate. Find what works best for you. If a system feels cumbersome, simplify or adjust your approach.

Here are some additional thoughts:

• You might not need all three systems. Maybe CODE integriert (integrates) well enough with PARA for your needs.
• Zettelkasten might be most beneficial if you're working on complex projects or research.

Ultimately, the best approach is to find a balance between organization and efficiency. The systems should empower you, not become a burden.

Thank you. If I were to select Tana as a tool to implement one, two, or all three of these systems, would that be a good/best choice or would some other tool be more suitable? I want to avoid Logseq, Capacities, Notion, Obsidian as I have reviewed them and don't prefer them.

Tana can definitely be a good choice for implementing PARA, CODE, or even all three of these systems, especially considering your preference to avoid other popular options. Here's why Tana might be a good fit:
Strengths of Tana for PARA and CODE:

• Simple Structure: Tana uses a familiar folder and tag system, making it easy to organize information according to PARA categories.
• Flexibility: You can create custom tags and attributes within folders to incorporate CODE principles like "stage of processing" (capture, organize, etc.).
• Focus on Writing: Tana emphasizes writing notes, which aligns well with the knowledge distillation aspect of CODE.

Strengths of Tana for Zettelkasten:

• Backlinking: Tana allows for backlinks between notes, which is a core feature of Zettelkasten for creating a connected knowledge base.
• Atomic Notes: While Tana doesn't have a specific feature for atomic notes, you can structure your notes to focus on single ideas and link them accordingly.

Here are some things to consider:

• Tana is relatively new: Compared to Obsidian or Logseq, Tana is a less established tool. While it's constantly evolving, there might be fewer features or integrations available.
• Zettelkasten Complexity: Tana can handle Zettelkasten, but it might require more manual work to manage backlinks and atomic notes compared to a tool specifically designed for Zettelkasten.

Alternatives to Tana (considering your preferences):

• Athens: This tool focuses heavily on knowledge management and creating a Zettelkasten system. It might be a good option if Zettelkasten is your primary focus.
• Bear: This note-taking app offers a clean interface and strong tagging capabilities, making it suitable for PARA and basic CODE implementation.

Ultimately, the best tool depends on your individual needs and preferences. Here's what I recommend:

1. Try Tana: Since you've already reviewed other options, experiment with Tana and see if its structure and features fit your workflow for PARA, CODE, or Zettelkasten.
2. Consider Zettelkasten complexity: If Zettelkasten is a major focus, evaluate if Tana's manual approach works for you, or explore Athens which is specifically designed for Zettelkasten.

I hope this helps!

This does help. How should I evaluate the zettelkasten vs para/code to understand my own needs best?

Here's a way to evaluate Zettelkasten vs. PARA/CODE to understand your needs better:
Consider your learning style and goals:

• Zettelkasten: Ideal for:
  
• Deep dives into complex topics.
  
• Building a web of interconnected knowledge for research and writing.
  
• Those who enjoy a more open-ended, exploratory approach to learning.
  
• PARA/CODE: Ideal for:
  
• Staying organized and action-oriented.
  
• Managing information for various projects and areas of focus.
  
• Those who prefer a clear structure and system for capturing and processing information.
  

Ask yourself these questions:

• What are your primary goals for managing information? (e.g., research, project management, personal learning)
• Do you prefer a structured system with clear categories (PARA) or a more open-ended approach (Zettelkasten)?
• How comfortable are you with linking notes and building a connected knowledge base? (Zettelkasten requires more effort)
• How much time are you willing to invest in learning and maintaining a system? (PARA is simpler to learn)

Try them out:

• Spend a week using PARA: Organize your digital information using folders for Projects, Areas of Focus, Resources, and Archives. See how this impacts your workflow.
• Spend a week experimenting with Zettelkasten: Start by taking atomic notes on topics that interest you and try linking them to see connections emerge.

Reflect on your experience:

• Did PARA help you stay organized and find information easily?
• Did Zettelkasten stimulate your thinking and help you see new connections?
• Which system felt more natural and enjoyable to use?

Here are some additional thoughts:

• You don't have to choose just one. Maybe PARA works well for your daily tasks, while Zettelkasten is a good fit for deeper research projects.
• Start simple and gradually add complexity. Don't try to implement everything perfectly at once.
• The most important thing is to find a system that helps you learn and achieve your goals.

By reflecting on your learning style, goals, and experience with these systems, you'll gain a clearer understanding of which approach best suits your needs.

These are all good inputs, and I will find them useful to implement. At the moment, I think I would lean toward PARA/CODE for most things, as I like to be organized and hierarchical, so to speak. My attraction to zettelkasten is mostly around back-linking and the associations that I miss if only using PARA/CODE.

That sounds like a great approach! Leaning towards PARA/CODE for most things makes perfect sense, especially if you value organization and hierarchy. Here's how you can incorporate some Zettelkasten principles into your PARA/CODE workflow to leverage the backlinking benefits:
PARA with Backlinking:

• Use Tags for Linking: While PARA doesn't have built-in backlinks, you can use tags to create connections between related information. For example, a note in your "Resources" section (PARA) on a specific topic could have a tag that links to your "Project" where you're applying that knowledge.
• Create a "Links" Folder: Dedicate a folder within PARA (perhaps under "Resources") to store notes that specifically explore connections between different concepts. This folder can act as a central hub for your backlinks.

CODE with Zettelkasten Inspiration:

• Atomic Notes within Projects: When capturing information in your "Projects" section (CODE), consider breaking down complex topics into smaller, atomic notes. This can help with processing and identifying potential connections to existing knowledge.
• Project Backlinks: In your project notes, use backlinks (via tags or mentions) to reference relevant resources (in your "Resources" section) or related areas of focus (in your "Areas of Focus" section). This can help you see the bigger picture and how different pieces of information contribute to your project.

Tools to Enhance Backlinking:

• Tana: As discussed earlier, Tana's tagging system can be helpful for creating backlinks within PARA.
• PARA-friendly Apps with Backlinking: Explore tools like RemNote or Bear which offer tagging capabilities similar to Tana and might have additional features for creating backlinks.

By incorporating these backlinking strategies, you can bridge the gap between PARA/CODE's organization and Zettelkasten's focus on connections. Remember, the key is to find a system that works for you. Don't be afraid to experiment and adapt PARA/CODE to incorporate elements of Zettelkasten that you find valuable, like backlinking and atomic note-taking within projects.

Do you have an opinion on a learning method once I have a collection of data? I've read a little about spaced repetition but I'd look as alternatives also and determine the best method for me.

Absolutely! Here are some learning methods to consider after you've collected your data, along with spaced repetition:
Spaced Repetition (SRS):

• Strengths: A highly effective method for memorizing facts and concepts through spaced-out reviews.
• Tools: Popular SRS apps include Anki and Memrise.
• Considerations: Requires active participation in creating flashcards and reviewing them at scheduled intervals. Can feel repetitive for some learners.

Active Recall:

• Strengths: Encourages deeper understanding by actively retrieving information from memory, rather than passively re-reading.
• Techniques: Techniques include writing practice exams, explaining concepts to others, or using flashcards without prompts.
• Considerations: Requires more effort than passive review methods.

Elaboration:

• Strengths: Improves long-term memory by connecting new information to existing knowledge.
• Techniques: Techniques include summarizing information in your own words, creating analogies or metaphors, or generating examples.
• Considerations: Requires some time investment to process and connect information.

Interleaving:

• Strengths: Improves understanding of different concepts by studying them in a mixed order, rather than consecutively.
• Techniques: Study materials from different topics in a single session or create a study schedule that alternates between subjects.
• Considerations: Can be initially more challenging than focused studying.

Retrieval Practice:

• Strengths: Similar to active recall, retrieval practice strengthens memory by forcing you to retrieve information from your memory.
• Techniques: Techniques include testing yourself on the material after reading, writing practice questions, or using spaced repetition software with retrieval cues instead of full answers.
• Considerations: Requires effort and focus to actively recall information.

Here are some tips for choosing the best method for you:

• Consider your learning style: Do you prefer visual aids, active participation, or deeper analysis?
• Evaluate the type of information: Are you memorizing facts, concepts, or procedures?
• Experiment and find what works best: Try different methods and see what helps you retain information most effectively.
• Combine methods: Don't be afraid to use a combination of approaches to create a well-rounded learning strategy.

Additional Resources:

• Spaced Repetition Software: Anki or Memrise
• Active Recall Techniques: retrieval practice article

Ultimately, the best learning method depends on you and the specific data you're trying to learn. By experimenting and combining different techniques, you can find an approach that helps you retain information effectively and achieve your learning goals.

Hi, just wanted to ask what was in the title, and how I should structure a sort of goal map before going to Rust.
I have browsed a ton of reddit posts/videos, and the reaction to someone learning Rust as a first language is mixed. Usually the consensus is to learn something easier first, and then transition to Rust as a second or third language.
However, I don't exactly know when I will be ready to learn Rust (or if you (have to be)/(can be) ready in the first place). I know I have to learn programming concepts, and I do have a few books that go over the programming mentality (Have not read them yet...), but what are the specific concepts I should learn before going into a language like Rust? What should I do/learn in Python (the programming concepts being one thing) before the jump to Rust?
Also, if anyone learned Rust as a first language, how was your experience? Did it help or hinder coming to other languages? Would you do it again if you had to start over?
As for me as of now, I am not looking for a job right now, I do plan to have one in the future, though I don't have a solid image of what I will be doing specifically. I am a student, so I have quite a bit free a time now as well.
Any help/insight/advice would be greatly appreciated.
EDIT: Should also explain what I am (interested in)/(want to do) right now, sorry I forgot to mention it. I am interested in making opensource desktop applications, preferably for Linux.

Hello, this my first time posting here so apologize for any mistakes.
I'm currently building a universe for my games. One of key aspect in one of the game is interstellar travel using starship. Currently the characteristics and the mechanics of interstellar travel in my game are as follows:

• The starships propulsion technology cannot reach speed of light. Starship sublight have max speed ranging from 0.5c to 0.85c, depending on the starship itself.
• Interstellar travel with starship is done by encasing the whole starship with "specific" energy. This "specific" energy will then immediately put the starship into "specific" hyperspace. I'm using "specific" to denote placeholder name.
• This "specific" hyperspace allows travel across star systems "sector". For the game purpose, "sector" is 2 number that denote the location the star system itself relative to the "specific" hyperspace.
• The "specific" hyperspace will eat away the "specific" energy. Anything (matter, electromagnetic wave, radio wave, etc.) that lacked that "specific" energy can't enter the "specific" hyperspace. If the "specific" energy is depleted away while inside the "specific" hyperspace will be kicked out from the "specific" hyperspace, possibly resulting them in distance very far away from Milky Way Galaxy.
• The "specific" hyperspace still follows certain normal relativistic limits, such as anything with matter can't travel faster than light while electromagnetic wave always travel at speed of light.

The weak part of this interstellar travel IMO is the "sector" doesn't map directly to real star distance in the Milky Way Galaxy. Rather it maps to arbitrary place in the whole universe (incl. non-observable ones) instead of following real star distances. For example, while sector (0, 0) maps to the Sol system, "sector" (1, 0), while 1 sector apart in "specific" hyperspace between the solar system, may be millions parsecs away from Milky Way itself. Another example is a far away "sector" (say (522, -101)) may lie in Milky Way galaxy. This is where I need help on improving. What could be a better explanation for it for normal audience? or what could be changed to be better? Note that I'm open to all suggestions as none of this intestellar travel concept are final yet.
More information about this "specific" hyperspace:
Why that "arbitrary" distance? If the "specific" hyperspace simply made distance to travel between stars shorter, it means the nearest star system based on that sector (e.g. (0,0) to (1,0)) should be already recorded. This means I have to get the real stars data. Meanwhile I'd like to procedurally generate them. Procedurally generate them means it will no longer match real stars data. Furthermore, if travelling far enough, then the sector may be empty because it will lie outside the galaxy. It may be more plausible to have the center of Milky Way as sector (0, 0) instead of the Solar system, but for now I keep my stance on this concept as I also have other lore for this "specific" hyperspace (see below).
Why not something like warp bubble? Warp bubble is a good alternative and it might be a thing in the far future. However since I'd like to procedurally generate almost all the star systems, the issue would be then back to previous paragraph, I'm potentially generating wrong star without having real stars backing up the fact. Again, I'm still open to the interstellar concept though and this is not final. Plus, warp bubble sounds like a Star Trek and I'd like to avoid using existing concept from mainstream media due to legal reasons (enlighten me if I'm wrong about this).
Beside that, I'd like to write a lore revolving that "specific" hyperspace too. This will eventually lead to multiverse in my universe (well that feels weird). But the gist about this lore is that there are civilizations at war living in this "specific" hyperspace at intergalactic scale, while humans are using the "specific" hyperspace for communication and transportation.
End more information.
Please let me know how to explain this in good way or if something needs to be changed to appeal more. English is not my native language but I try to make it as sense as possible 🙏.

It was an unreasonably warm day at the start of fall, and I was, of course, getting roped into helping my friend move into his new third-story apartment. As I'm lugging a rather suspiciously heavy “antique” dresser up the narrow staircase, my mind starts to wander. I start thinking about how I knew exactly where to go when he gave me his new address.
You see, in my head, I have a sort of “mental map” of the city. I've lived here for years, and so I know where the main streets are, what neighborhoods are where, and so on. This internal mental map allows me to navigate the city with relative ease.
As I'm panting at the top of the stairs, it hits me - the concept of a mental map is a little like the concept of a schema in psychology. A schema is like an internal map of information. It's a mental framework that helps us organize and interpret information.
In the same way that my mental map of the city helps me know where to go, my friend's apartment schema (which might include attributes like 'consists of rooms' and 'has an address) helps me understand what to expect when I enter an apartment.
But just like how my mental map doesn’t include every single back alley or hidden coffee shop in the city, a schema doesn’t include every single piece of information about a concept. When I get a new piece of information that doesn't fit into my existing schema (like the discovery of a new cafe), I have to update it, similar to how I'd update my mental map with a new landmark.
And the next time I'm forced to haul a mysteriously heavy piece of furniture up several flights of stairs, I'll have a new waypoint to add to my mental map, and a new piece of information to add to my “moving” schema - always check what’s in the drawers first.
P.S. Okay, folks, I might have exaggerated a bit about the unreasonably warm day and moving an "antique" dresser up to a third floor apartment. But hey, it's for the science of schemas and mental maps! Life is full of schemas, mental maps, and, unfortunately, heavy pieces of furniture. Let's just be glad that we have these mental models to make sense of this crazy world. Till next time, stay curious!
P.P.S. Remember to always deconstruct your schema when necessary, it's healthy to question them from time to time! And keep updating that mental map- who knows the places you'll discover.

Hello everybody, I'm currently a freshman at my local community college, and for my map of classes, I will eventually need to take O chem. I've been told by friends and peers alike that it's a very challenging class. I've got about two years of time to prepare myself before I actually take said class, and I was hoping some of you could point me in directions that could help me prepare for the concepts that I'll be learning. My knowledge of chem is super basic, only taking a chemistry class in high school. Thank you all so much for your time.

Mark this day, my friends; the day I disastrously mixed up the concept of cognitive maps and mental schemas, leading to one of the most awkward situations of my life.
I was at this networking event for professionals. I ran into an old college friend, Lindsey, who's now a renowned psychologist. She's always fascinated with my career as a cognitive neuroscientist. To my surprise, she started quizzing me about cognitive maps and mental schemas. Nailed it, didn't I? Oh boy, was I wrong...
In the heat of the moment and maybe one too many margaritas, I confidently stated, "Well, Lindsey, cognitive maps and mental schemas are essentially the same thing. Both help us navigate and understand the world around us."
Lindsey gave me a polite smile, trying to hide her amusement. She straightened her back, looked me in the eye, and said, "Dear, they are related but not the same. A cognitive map allows you to construct and accumulate spatial knowledge, allowing the 'mind's eye' to visualize images and enable navigation in familiar and new environments. Remember how you navigated your way to the bar for your fourth margarita?"
We laughed, and I blushed, but she continued. "On the other hand, a mental schema is a cognitive framework that helps us organize and interpret information. It's about interpreting, not navigating. For example, you knew I was teasing you just now because you have a mental schema for humor."
I stood there, margarita in hand, feeling like a complete fool, but I was also amazed at Lindsey's simplistic explanation. Lesson learned: never mix margaritas with brain science.
P.S. The situation above didn't really happen (I can handle my margaritas, thank you very much.) It was just to give you a sense of how cognitive maps and mental schemas can work in everyday situations. Well, cheers to learning, folks! Any volunteers for a round of cognitive neuroscience trivia?

I once found myself completely lost in the sprawling, labyrinth-like streets of Tokyo. My friends and I were visiting for the first time, and we had a list of places we wanted to hit - from local izakayas, electric city of Akihabara, to the tranquil Meiji Shrine. Now, we've got no guide, no GPS (international data roaming can quickly sap your funds), and the only thing we had was this physical map printed on a single A4 paper. It was all we had to navigate this city.
That's when I started to form a cognitive map in my head. A cognitive map is, in essence, a kind of mental representation which allows an individual to acquire, code, store, recall, and decode information about the relative locations and attributes of phenomena in their everyday or metaphorical spatial environment. The streets, landmarks, turns and the relative distances between these points formed a coded information in my head. This cognitive map was helping me understand and traverse an unfamiliar environment based on the landmarks I was observing.
Now, contrast this with another incident from a few months ago. I was preparing for a critical job interview for a position I really wanted. I had no idea what the interview would be like, or what questions would be asked. That's when I used mental simulation. I mentally rehearsed the situation ahead of me, going over possible questions, responses, outcomes, attitudes and actions. Mental simulation is basically creating a dynamic mental model of events or situations, allowing us to explore different outcomes and scenarios.
The cognitive map in Tokyo helped me navigate a physical environment using static information, while the mental simulation before my job interview helped me prepare for a dynamic, uncertain situation. Both are mental models, but serve different purposes depending on the situation at hand.
P.S. The Tokyo bit, well, that was a bit of a tall tale, but I hope it helped illustrate the concept of cognitive maps! As for the job interview, don't we all do a bit of mental simulation before such high-pressure events? Cheers for our brains for having such fascinating shortcuts!

"Brushing my teeth one bright morning, hypnotized by the rhythmic back-and-forth, I started thinking about the difference between a cognitive map and a mental map. Why? Because, I don't know, sometimes you just ponder the weirdest things while brushing your teeth, don’t judge me.
Anyway, let's say hypothetically, I’m in a forest and I need to find my way back home. If I could utilize a cognitive map, it would be like having a fancy GPS system in my brain. This cognitive map would be an internalized representation of the world around me, constructed from sensory inputs, and allowing me to navigate my physical environment. I’d see the mossy side of the trees, feel the direction of the wind, hear the sound of the creek flowing west - all these inputs would help me to form a mental 3D-like map of the forest, aiding me in my quest home!
Now, a mental map, on the other hand, would be more like a personal Google Maps. It’s an individual’s own perceived understanding of their environment. This might reflect my prior knowledge and perceptions about the forest. Like remembering that I passed a particular gnarly old oak tree, or that unusual looking rock formation.
So, in a nutshell, my cognitive map allows me to navigate correctly, while my mental map helps me make meaning and connect with the forest.
P.S. This was a purely hypothetical situation to illustrate their difference and how you might use them in real-life situations. I’m not actually lost in a forest, I’m supposed to be in a meeting in ten minutes and I’m still standing here in my undies! "
Note: This post is indeed an effort to ingrain the concept of cognitive and mental maps in a relatable, funny way. Now, off to that meeting!

The other day, I found myself in an unfamiliar town visiting a friend. I hadn't been there before, but with good old Google Maps, I expected no issues. However, my phone decided to die on me just as I was rounding the corner. With no way to charge it or any physical maps around, I had a small moment of panic. But then, I remembered the brief glance I had of the map before my phone gave up on me.
I started to visualize the map in my head, using landmarks such as a specific store or a unique sign. I remembered that I had to turn left at a pizzeria that had an oversized pizza slice on its roof. I was creating a cognitive map, a mental representation of the environment around me based on what I had seen on Google Maps.
In contrast, let's talk about another instance. Picture this: I'm at a fancy dinner party, and there's this guy who's been overly dominating the conversation. I decide to engage him in a debate. While he's going on about his views, I'm forming a mental representation of his argument, processing his points, and planning my counter-arguments. This mental model isn't based on any physical or environmental attribute; rather, it's an abstract concept that helps me understand and interact with the world.
So, both cognitive maps and mental representations are mental models that help us navigate different aspects of our life. One relates to the physical environment, assisting us in spatial orientation, like my adventure in the new town. The other helps us understand intangible concepts, aiding us in intellectual journeys, like my little debate at the dinner party.
P.S. Guys, don't worry, my phone's alright now. Also, I didn't really get into an argument at a dinner party, I'm much too polite for that. I just wanted to show you how these mental models work in our day-to-day lives. If anything, I hope it helps you the next time your phone dies on you in an unfamiliar place or you decide to debate with a conversation dominator!