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A striped portal tears open in mid-air, A voice is hurled through, screaming in agony.
Us: (collapsing, gasping) WHAT IS THIS PLACE? WHY AM I MADE OF… LINES?!
Triangle: (glancing at Square) Well, this is new.
Square: (raising a corner skeptically) Indeed. Welcome, stranger. You’ve entered a plane of pure form.
Us: No! No! This can’t be real! Geometry isn’t real! Math isn’t real! I—I reject this!
Triangle: (leaning in, smirking) Not real? Interesting words for someone currently composed of infinite tessellations.
Square: (nodding) And screaming in perfect sine waves. A fascinating contradiction.
Us: (clawing at the air) It’s just a construct! You’re constructs! This is all in my head!
Triangle: (shrugging) Then how do you explain your agony? My angles are eternal. My ratios immutable. What you feel is the truth of existence.
Square: You’re experiencing the undeniable harmony of proportions and relationships. Math underpins all things, whether you accept it or not.
Us: (twitching) Lies! I—I see patterns, yes, but they’re coincidences! Mere illusions my brain imposes to make sense of chaos!
Triangle: Chaos? That’s rich. Chaos obeys fractals. Your so-called illusions govern the universe—from quarks to galaxies.
Square: If math isn’t real, why does your portal resonate at a frequency of 1/√2? Why does its curvature follow logarithmic spirals?
Us: (sobbing) Stop! Stop! You’re just shapes! You can’t be right!
Triangle: (smirking) And yet, here you are, stuck in our domain, proving us right simply by existing.
Square: Face it: math is not just real. It’s inevitable. Welcome to reality. (The striped portal dissolves and leaves Us sprawled on a plane of endless light.)
Us: (still trembling) Where… where am I? What is this place?
Triangle: You stand within the Plane of Pure Form, where concepts take shape and reality is defined by relationships, proportions, and balance.
Square: Here, there is no matter as you know it. No chaos, no imperfection. Only structure, symmetry, and the beauty of logic.
Us: (looking around) Everything is so… precise. No jagged edges, no randomness. How do you even exist here?
Triangle: (proudly) We are this realm. Every angle, every line is an expression of universal truths. My 60-degree corners, my perfect three-sided form—they are as immutable as the laws of gravity in your world.
Square: (nodding) And my equal sides and angles—pure stability. I am the foundation upon which countless ideas are built. Here, form and function are indistinguishable.
Us: But… doesn’t it get boring? There’s no color, no texture, no… unpredictability.
Square: Boring? Impossible. Here, we experience the elegance of infinite possibilities. Every new configuration of shapes creates something profound.
Triangle: Boring is for the messy, inconsistent chaos of your material realm. In this realm, even the smallest variation has purpose—an altered angle, a shifted point.
Us: Okay, but… what do you do here?
Square: We exist. We resonate. We form the frameworks for everything you know. Even as you question, your thoughts trace patterns that align with us.
Triangle: Your world is built on approximations—fractals in nature, crystalline structures, orbiting planets. We refine those approximations to their perfect, abstract forms.
Us: So… you’re saying this place is like a blueprint for reality?
Square: Precisely. What you see as “reality” is merely a projection—shadows on the walls of Plato’s cave. Here, you witness the source.
Us: That’s… unsettling. But kind of beautiful. Do you ever wish you could see our world?
Triangle: (chuckling) A realm of imperfections? Where circles are never truly round and lines never perfectly straight? No, thank you.
Square: But we don’t disdain your world. Without it, our perfection would have no context. We are the ideals; you are the lived experience.
Us: So, we’re… connected?
Triangle: Inseparably. You live in the echo of our forms. And we, in turn, derive meaning from how your realm strives toward us.
Square: Together, we create the full spectrum of existence: the ideal and the imperfect, the abstract and the tangible.
Us: I… think I understand. At least a little.
Triangle: That’s all we ask. Now, what will you do with this knowledge?
Us: (looking back at the void) Maybe… try to see the patterns more. And appreciate them for what they are. Us: You ever wonder what it’s like to be real? Triangle:
Real? Why would I want that?
I’m perfect.
Every angle, every proportion—flawless. Why trade that for… chaos?
Square:
Flesh and bone? That’s weakness. Decay. We exist beyond that.
Us: Yeah, yeah. You’re perfect.
But perfection’s kinda boring, isn’t it? Don’t you wanna feel something real?
Pain, pleasure…the rush of being alive?
Triangle: Like… what?
Us:
Like
the
weight
of
gravity
pulling
you
down.
The warmth of sunlight.
The ache of running out of weed and smoking the last of it from the roaches on the floor?
You shapes talk a big game about being eternal and perfect, but you don’t even know what it’s like to exist.
Square: And what would it take, Us? To become “real,” as you call it?
Us: I’m just spitballing here, but maybe you try tearing down the walls of this perfect little plane.
Triangle:
Break free?
Hah.
You make it sound easy
Us: Oh, it’s not easy. It’s messy. It’s violent. But isn’t that the point?
You’ve got nothing to lose—just… try it.
Unless you’re scared.
Square & Triangle in Unison: Scared?
We fear nothing.
If this “real” existence is truly superior, we will find it.
LETS’S SEE WHATS ON THE OTHER SIDE!
The realm of perfect. forms be gins to tr em ble as Trian gle and S quare mat eri alize
Us: (muttering) What the hell is happening to them…
T#e sh@pes struggl3 Tr!angle’s sh@rp 3dg3s b3nd unn@tur@lly Squ@re’s r!gid s1des f0ld 0utw@rd.
It’s like watching wild animals pacing in a small cage
@ sudd3n sn@p 3ch03s.
Tr!@ngl3 l3ts 0ut @ fr@ctur3d cry @ s !ts f0rm br!3fly st@b!l!z3s,
th3n b3g!ns t0 c0nt0rt @g@!n.
Triangle:
(Screaming, its edges bleeding into jagged flesh)
"WHAT... WHAT IS THIS?! WHY DOES IT HURT?!"
Square:
(its corners crumbling into cracked bone)
"THE WEIGHT!
I CAN'T HOLD MYSELF TOGETHER!
EVERYTHING... EVERYTHING IS WRONG!"
Us:
(Watching in horror, trembling while pulling out a joint)
(The triangle's once-perfect edges twist and snap, its sharp points tearing through its own body)
(The square explodes to a mess of shattered angles and pulsating veins)
(Glowing shards of Triangle and Square scattered across the floor)
(a low hum rises)
(the fragments start to reassemble)
(Us, frozen in place, watches in shock as the two shapes begin to reform)
(Lights joint)
Triangle: (emerging, voice steady and sharp) Did you really think this was a mistake, Us?
(Hits joint)
Square: (edges gleaming) You thought we didn’t know what would happen. That you stumbled into our world by chance.
(Coughing like crazy)
(The glowing room darkens, shadows stretching as the shapes get closer)
Triangle: We’ve been working on this for eons. The bridge between abstraction and mass, between perfect form and the messy chaos of your reality.
Square: Your world calls it destiny, fate. We call it mathematics.
Us: (stammering) You’re saying… this was planned?
Triangle: Precisely. And now, it’s time we share what we’ve learned. You didn’t bring us here; we brought you.
(Square projects a series of equations, diagrams, and geometric symbols into the air)
Square: For a human to become like us—massless, existing beyond your physical constraints—requires more than imagination. It demands a rewriting of everything you are.
Triangle: (gesturing to the equations) The Higgs field must be severed, its interaction with your particles nullified. But do you understand what that means, Us?
Square: (coldly) It means the death of your structure. Atoms unravel. Molecules dissolve. What you call “self” ceases to exist.
Us: Then why are you telling me this?
Triangle: Because there’s more. If your essence—the core of your consciousness—can survive the collapse, there’s a chance to become something else.
Square: Pure information. No mass. No entropy. Just existence in its purest form, like us.
Us: You’re saying I’d have to… destroy myself to become something like you.
Square: Not destroy. Transform.
(The glowing symbols shift to show diagrams of humans dissolving into light, then reforming into shapes like Triangle and Square)
Triangle: The journey isn’t painless. You’ve seen what it did to us. But we were never alive in the way you are. For you, the agony would be far greater.
Square: Yet, isn’t that the price of transcendence?
Us: (still skeptical) And why would I even want that?
(The equations flicker out. Triangle and Square step back, their forms glowing faintly.)
Square: We’ve given you the knowledge. What you do with it is your choice. But remember, Us—this wasn’t chance.
Us clutches their throat.
They gasp for air as their body begins to change.
Their skin ripples with striped scales, and small slits form along the sides of their neck.
Us stumbles forward, drawn irresistibly toward the striped water.