Noah and Adrian sat at the very front, where the windows were largest. The twelve-year-old girl and the doll-like woman joined them across the aisle.
Now that people were closer together, new introductions and conversations sprang up. Even the most withdrawn teens couldn't escape exchanging a few words. "It's good for them," Noah thought, half-listening to the chatter behind him.
Contrary to his expectations, people were eager to share the stories of their deaths. Some regretted not having the chance to say goodbye to the living. One person was still anxious about a cat left alone in an apartment. Several women missed their children, which gave them a natural reason to bond. One teenager complained that after death, he’d kept only his clothes, but not his smartphone. Ah, bummer...
None of them had died naturally. Even the old woman Noah had seen earlier had been claimed by worsening lung cancer. And her refusal to quit smoking. She even admitted she’d hoped to die with a smoking pipe between her teeth. Probably the happiest one here.
Everyone else had died in car crashes, by falling off ladders, slipping by accident, taking the wrong medication, slipping again, taking too much of the right medication, missing a step and tumbling down stairs, choking on poorly chewed food, dying from a careless doctor’s hand, and—of course—slipping once more on wet ground.
All of this made Noah raise an eyebrow.
Apparently, even sober people most often met their end because of a misplaced step.
At last, the chronometer stopped ticking and the tram doors closed. As the engine hummed beneath the floor, the vehicle jerked slightly, then drifted away from the station, gradually gaining speed toward a gap between two massive cumulus clouds.
Even the wheels clatter as if they’re running on real rails, Noah thought in surprise.
A soft tone sounded, and a wide monitor slowly unfolded from the ceiling, blocking most of the front window. The screen lit up brightly, showing... the very same view ahead. In the upper corner glowed a logo—an ornate R letter.
“Greetings, dear passengers!” a cheerful female voice spoke from hidden speakers. “Thank you for using the Regia Transport System. Your first destination will be reached in [thirty-five] standard minutes. To make good use of the time, we’ll now provide introductory information. Enjoy an informative journey!”
The three-note jingle played again. The woman’s voice was replaced by a deep, thoughtful male one, drawing out each word slowly and deliberately:
“What is the Flow?..
Many theories attempt to answer this question, but in Regia, the most widely accepted is this one: the Flow is a river of information that streams out of every living being. We are that information which, after death, enters the Flow. You are information. Even this tram you are traveling in—it too is stabilized information. We all exist within the current of the Flow, ever called to reach its estuary and vanish there.
No one knows what truly happens at that point. The most common theory claims that once the information reaches the estuary, it is purified, refined, and sent back to where it is most needed—perhaps to Earth, or perhaps to other worlds where life exists.
No one knows how long the Flow has existed. It may have begun with the very first primitive life forms, as a natural phenomenon we have yet to understand. For humans, the key moment came when we first became aware of ourselves as sentient beings.
At first, the Flow is believed to have been calm and peaceful. Life arose, died, entered the Flow, and quietly reached its estuary.
But things changed when intelligent beings began arriving. Humans.
If they desire it strongly enough, humans can resist the current of the Flow. Under normal conditions, the resistance is weak or nonexistent—we depart as other life forms do. But sometimes, the circumstances of death are so shocking that they provoke resistance by any means. Many of you have surely heard of the Auschwitz, the Nanjing Massacre*, or the Cambodian genocide?”
Black-and-white photos flashed on the screen. The voice continued in the same steady, slightly hypnotic cadence:
“Such moments have repeated throughout history many times. During these tragedies, many resistors enter the Flow—souls desperate to return, to protect someone they love, or to take revenge.
As I mentioned, we all arrive here as information. If we were to send you back to Earth right now, you would not be able to influence even the smallest physical process. So it might seem harmless that these unfortunate souls wish to return, doesn’t it?..
Unfortunately, history tells a different story.
Those who resist the Flow are often driven by emotions so powerful that they lead to unpredictable extremes.
At a certain point, some of these resistors discovered a method to increase their influence over the living world—by forcibly absorbing the information of other souls. In the living world, such an act would be called cannibalism. The method isn’t secret—you can read about it in any Regia library—but it is strictly illegal.
This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.
Unfortunately, in the early period, there was no Regia and no law. So, informational cannibalism gradually spread.”
The screen changed again. This time, scenes of war gave way to grotesque images of monsters, prompting uneasy murmurs from the passengers. Seeing this, Noah felt a chill of discomfort.
“About six or seven thousand years ago,” the narrator continued, “such extremes gave rise to immensely powerful beings—those we now call the Elders. The images you see are not real photographs but reconstructions from the memories of Regia’s oldest inhabitants. We do not know exactly why the Elders took on such forms. Some suggest their appearance resulted from unstable mental states; others believe it came from the unrestrained absorption of souls. After all, the Elders devoured tens of millions, if not more.
They were strong enough to influence multi-ton physical objects on Earth. Because of them, the Flow became an extremely dangerous place. There was no longer any certainty that a soul would reach the estuary—most were seized and absorbed almost immediately.
These beings were also one of the main reasons why certain religions and myths began to spread on Earth.
To this day, Regia’s historians have counted roughly two hundred Elders.
Besides them were thousands of lesser beings whose activities birthed stories of ghosts and demons. Their activity reached its peak in the mid-fourteenth century.”
The screen shifted again, now showing old photographs of paranormal events. Some Noah recognized from the internet. They were all taken with early cameras; no modern photos appeared. He suspected newer ones were simply fakes made by ghost enthusiasts.
The voice went on:
“Serious resistance began in the late fourteenth century, when several hundred survivors formed an order. But even these noble fighters were forced to use the same cannibalism—there was no other way to become stronger than their foes. They started with the weakest ‘demons’ and, by the mid-fifteenth century, had cleansed most of the planet. Forged in battle, they faced greater threats until at last, they confronted the Elders themselves.
After defeating them, the victors used the information they had amassed to create what you now see before you.
Thus, the Dream Sphere came to be, shielding Earth and the parts of Flow from a repeat of such events.
Thus Regia arose - the realm of those who passed the Dream Sphere’s test. Even this tram is built from the bones of the Elders, for in the Flow, no other building material exists.”
Familiar scenes from the underground caverns flickered on the screen—the same places Noah had walked with Gaudemunda.
He noticed Adrian beside him looked tense, still unsettled by the images of the Elders. Those creatures truly were terrifying, bloated with devoured souls.
“The Dream Sphere,” the narrator continued, his tone now brighter, “not only shields Earth from those who resist the Flow but also powers the continent of Regia.
People die constantly. About 150,000 lives end on Earth each day. Of those, roughly one percent are irreversibly destroyed, their information used as construction material in Regia.”
Wait—only one percent? But Gaudemunda said something very different, thought Noah.
“That one percent includes only the worst of the worst—those who committed crimes against humanity while alive. In Regia, it’s believed such individuals should never reach the estuary of the Flow, lest their deeds be repeated on Earth. Of course, that belief isn’t based on science—it’s more of a local faith.
Another four and a half percent—that’s you—have passed the Dream Sphere’s test and earned the right to reach Regia. This tram is one of many carrying passengers from the Sphere to the continent. So don’t be surprised there are fewer of you than expected. After all, the Dream Sphere is enormous.
Now, if you look left, you’ll see the Sphere’s transport carrying the remaining ninety-four and a half percent of the daily quota toward the estuary. Our schedule is precisely synchronized with theirs, so you should see it emerging from the clouds…”
Indeed—just as the passengers turned from the monitor, a massive zeppelin emerged from behind a cloud, gliding almost parallel to the tram. It was pure white, perhaps two kilometers long, bristling with rows of cannon turrets.
“That thing’s armed?” Adrian blurted. “Didn’t he say they killed all the Elders? What are the guns for?”
“Apparently, there’s still something to worry about,” Noah muttered.
“You’ve probably noticed the weapons and wondered what they’re for,” said the voice, sounding almost amused. “As I mentioned, the Elders and many lesser ‘demons’ were destroyed—but not all. A few survived and still hide within the Flow. And the Flow itself - it is unimaginably vast, likely connecting the entire Milky Way. Finding the ones that hide there is extremely difficult. Almost impossible. But rest assured: the continent of Regia is as protected as the Sphere’s transport, which will soon slip from view…”
A minute later, the leviathan vanished behind another cloud. The narrator chuckled softly, as if at a private joke.
“And now, if we look to the right, we’ll soon see Regia itself—the final destination of this journey.”
Everyone turned to the right.
As one, their mouths fell open in astonishment.
* Nanjing Massacre (1937): mass killings by the Imperial Japanese Army in Nanjing, China. Estimates of the death toll reach as high as 340,000.