The wave grew in power as it spread away from Sophie deep into the Underworlds.

Sophie's two passengers felt space around them strain. As the energy spread, it distorted space-time. The Rho waves amplified as they grew distant. Like neutrinos, the energy did not appear to damage the physical reality, just caressed it. The shock was not physical; it worked on a much more subtle and stronger level. Marilyn and Liam were humbled by the very nature of what they had just witnessed and felt. How dare Marilyn use the Attractor's waves to grab the Dot? Maybe her actions had unintended consequences, but like any good narcissist, she'd quickly dispelled her doubts. The Sixth Attraction began well before she'd even discovered the waves. None of this was her fault, she reasoned. But Marilyn felt vastly inferior, and extremely foolish, for perhaps the first time in her life.

Sophie opened her tear-filled eyes.

She knew the Multiverse was here, in her heart she felt it.

"Show me what I need to see." The girl ordered.

Liam and Marilyn were silenced, but this time because they felt the power of the young girl. A human was talking to a force well beyond comprehension. At this time, in this place, Sophie was somehow relevant to the Multiverse. Liam wondered if this girl alone could have found her way here or if the waves were changing Sophie into a different living entity. This human, only twelve but had learned to control her gift and ignoring all care and caution, was now talking to the Multiverse itself.

Around them, space itself softened.

-- It -- answered.

There were, of course, no words, no images. None would suffice. The Multiverse's arrival made Liam's welcoming bell tones on the Nexus, or Marilyn's video montages, appear like childish noise. Sophie had slid a key into the fabric between all worlds, in a place where space itself meant nothing. No science could explain this. No technology ever conceived by any world came even close to what was happening. Liam also knew none of the previous Attractors had ever mastered their power, much less spoken to the Multiverse.

Sophie was a natural; she was different, unique.

There was no time for hope, space replied.

Sophie's mind, intertwined with her illustrious guests, was propelled to a higher level of consciousness as inversely as Marilyn had just been humanized. They were connected to parts of life itself like a mother giving birth. The trio no longer had only four senses, they had ten. They were a blind man given the gift of sight. Their brains were at first unable to process most of the information now available to them. Their minds, overloaded with a flow of incomprehensible information, struggled to achieve equilibrium.

There were new colors and shapes but more importantly, new feelings. It was clear many of the new senses were linked with what humans like to describe generally as emotions. In the vastness of space and the unlimited power of the Multiverse, it felt strange to completely reprocess something as simple as a feeling born from within.

To humans, a limited number of emotions could occupy a mind at the same time. To the Multiverse, above time and space was energy, and high in the priority of these powers were emotions, millions of them. The world around them lost the feeling of materiality and became a large pool of feelings floating through the vastness of life.

Like a spider weaving a web, the Multiverse connected emotions of all types. Sophie saw her father appear in the distance. She knew it was him, though his body was whole. He was wearing a long white robe. Next to him appeared her mother holding the unborn child she was unable to bear. They were visions. The Multiverse wanted Sophie to see this. There were no words. Words could only serve to mar the message the Multiverse was trying to give.

Around them were the images of the accident she had just imagined, but instead of the pain and hurt were floating positive emotions of all type. Sophie, her father, and her mother appeared at the tip of a large triangle. Between them, energy in the form of lightening jumped back and forth. The blue lightning was pure and felt good. Sophie was puzzled by what she was shown; was this how the multiverse showed love? She'd expected something different.

Then these images vanished, and the silent darkness returned. The first message had been given. Somehow her family was at the center of this situation. There was much more the Multiverse needed to share. To aid their understanding, music began to play. It touched them, and the visitors began to resonate from within. The same way Marilyn used music as an integral part of her game, so did the Multiverse. At first, it picked a flawless but straightforward piece of flute. It was a gentle bird bouncing from one flower to the next. Then it gained in complexity as hundreds of unknown instruments gently wove themselves into the mix to create the most suiting symphony.

They were about to travel to places no creature had ever seen.

The group now felt like it was moving in space. After a moment's consideration, they realized spaced moved around them. Reality vaporized only to be replaced by clouds of lights and thunder. They escaped the Cold and punched out of the worlds into invisible curtains. Liam and Sophie recognized the feeling. They'd once felt these curtains as they traveled between the Lowest and the Purple.

The girl felt Liam's exhilaration and Marilyn's terror. They were moving between the worlds, and the artificial intelligence was distancing herself from her reality and body. As they moved out, they began to grow in size. There was no way to see themselves become larger than galaxies back on Earth, but deep inside, they felt it. They grew and grew until the darkness returned.

They were now larger than entire worlds. The music kept pace with their new form. Then the darkness vanished again. To the oldest creature in the Multiverse and to Marilyn, this show of power was humbling. They were specks in an ocean. To Sophie, this felt natural. She was unimpressed by the magnitude of the story playing around her, but paying attention nonetheless.

The group flew quickly to their next destination and after a minute of flashing colors, the vortex of light finally settled. With the help of the Multiverse, thick walls of color began to parse.

They were on top of a Celestial Mount Everest overlooking a valley of shining colors. In the heart of a valley, billions of light years below them, existed a structure. This was a sea of headless serpents crawling like maggots over a corpse. The long worms were made of light, and looked like rice noodles cooking in a light broth. Sophie did not understand what she was seeing and hoped her companions did. They were here as translators.

In this ocean of energy, nothing made sense. "These are the worlds forming the Multiverse," offered Liam, "I recognize their ballet. That is how they move; we know that. Most people think the different pieces in the Multiverse are like flat layers on a cake. We map them like these structures, as strains. Normally their movement normally is languid. A simple bend takes a million of your years." The dance of the creatures was at first somewhat random. The tubes slid and bent in a ballet, guided by some invisible music. Like the breaking of waves in the ocean to a veteran ship captain, the ballet began to take shape in Sophie's eyes. She began to feel something different.

"Which one is our world, the one you call the Cold?" asked the young girl. Liam knew the answer, he replied.

"The longest one. It wraps all others."

In the corner of her eye, she saw a spark of red. Like a ruby, it resonated in her the same way the Metil's rock inversion had. Slowly, some tubes began to fade, revealing what appeared to be one endless world wrapping around most others. Then the lengthy tube, the Cold, began to change color. Earth's entire dimension turned red and in some parts brighter red. "I see it," the girl answered.

"You do?" questioned the artificial intelligence who apparently did not see the color. The Multiverse wanted Sophie alone to see what was next. The tube, as it colored like a vein filled with cholesterol, stiffened. In turn, it's wavy movement around the other worlds slowed like an umbilical cord strangling the neck of a newborn.

"The Multiverse can't sever our world," whispered the girl. "Unless we fix it, the Multiverse as a whole will end." Liam stayed silent as the words sank in. "Liam?"

"Yes, Attractor."

"Call me Sophie please."

"Yes, Sophie."

"This is different."

"What do you mean?"

"Could the Multiverse transform itself? Like a butterfly."

Liam was humbled. He was talking universal metaphysics with this girl. In his world, he alone knew of these concepts. He thought long and hard about the best answer to give Sophie. The girl was no fool; she would cut to the essential, so he simply answered, "Yes. The physical constants could converge. They never have, why would they?"