《A spider's book.》


 Why not read.

    "My great story..." Swaying gently in the dim light, the spider clutched the tiny scrap of paper in its delicate legs. The parchment was frayed at the edges, a bit old-looking but still in shape. Below, a soft breeze rustled through the cavernous space, stirring the dust that had long settled in the corners of its home. The spider, unbothered by the movement, twisted slightly in its web, angling the paper a little more to the light so that it could read it better.


    "I don''t understand what the issue is!" The spider''s voice echoed through the cave, startling a nearby moth. "Is there a reason no one seems to be reading them? Could it be the pacing, or something else entirely?!¡±


    The moth, wisely keeping its distance far enough away from the web, fluttered closer. "Maybe," it ventured carefully while still making sure it didn''t touch the silky web, "you could ask for feedback?¡±


    "No, no, no!" The spider''s legs trembled, causing the web to vibrate. "That would mean admitting there might be something wrong with my writing! No way I''m doing that, not ever!¡±


    A little bothered by the sudden darkness that had begun to fill the cave, the spider tilted its body again, adjusting the angle of its web so that the paper caught more light. The ink had bled slightly, as if it had been exposed to damp air for too long, but the words were still legible and very much readable. However, no matter how hard it looked, it didn''t know why its masterpiece was not being fought over by the mortal men and women.


    Surely, if they had even read one of its stories, they would have loved it and would have continued to do so with all the others. Yes, perhaps that was it, after all, there is no way it could have possibly messed up.


    ¡°I think it''s about time I see who I''m losing to!!¡± The spider carefully set the scrap of paper down onto its web, securing it with a few thin strands of silk. With one last glance at its treasured words, it scuttled to the edge of the web and peered down into the darkness below.


    The cavern stretched far and wide, its walls lined with the forgotten and discarded books of those who had once dwelled above. Some would call it trash, yes, but to Larry, these were his personal treasures that he kept tightly to himself.


    Books, scrolls, and crumbling parchments lay in haphazard piles, some half-buried beneath piles of garbage in one corner, while others lay carefully stacked on top of each other. Larry had always assumed these were the works of lesser writers, unworthy of attention. But now, doubt crept into its many-legged frame. The idea that one of its books might end up like this was one that he couldn''t bear to even think about. The thought itself only made him shiver, from a chill that didn''t really exist in its pocket dimension.


    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    As he descended through the layers of his web network, Larry''s eyes caught an unusual glint among the scattered papers. The object stood out starkly against the mountainous piles of books in his collection, its surface catching what little light filtered through the cavern.


    The moth, after noticing that Larry had moved from its position, made sure to move itself, scurrying to a dark corner in the cavern while trying to make itself as small and unnoticeable as possible as it blended into its surroundings. Nevertheless, it kept eyeing the spider, which was now holding what appeared to be a human-made piece of machinery while examining it with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion.


    "Now, what do we have here?" Larry muttered, approaching the strange item, though making sure to be careful while doing so. "Perhaps this is what those mortals are using instead of proper books these days?¡±


    The contraption looked very heavy for its size, all cold metal and strange symbols etched along its surface. Larry turned it over with his delicate legs, the gears clicking softly in its head as it grabbed one of the symbols on the board of the object, while more symbols began to appear on the glowing surface of the thing. "What is this?" the spider muttered, tapping another one of the buttons with the tip of a leg. A faint hum echoed through the cavern, one of the hanging pieces of the contraption flickering to life, its tiny screen illuminating the darkness within the cavern.


    The moth, however, stopped looking after its instincts had told it that Larry wouldn''t be much of a problem. After all, it neither had the time nor the comprehension skills to understand what the spider was doing, so focusing inward on itself, it pulled at the mana in the air, fueling the tiny, iridescent scales on its wings with a faint glow, enhancing its camouflage and preparing a defensive dust from its antenna that shimmered with latent magic.


    It wouldn''t be the first time Larry tried to get touchy with her, and she wasn''t trying to get eaten by the spider who would certainly be hungry after centuries of not having eaten anything.


    Larry''s many eyes glimmered with fascination as the device whirred softly in its legs. It tapped the glowing screen again, watching as strange shapes and symbols shifted before it. The contraption, though utterly foreign, seemed to be responding to it''s touch. Could this be the secret to the success of modern mortal writers?


    "How peculiar," it mused, turning the object over. "It lacks the charm of ink and parchment, yet it holds words within it.¡±


    From her dark corner, the moth twitched an antenna, observing the spider¡¯s engrossed state. "Be careful with that thing, Larry," she warned, her voice barely coming out as a whisper. "It might not be as harmless as it looks." Larry could only scoff at that, weaving a few silken strands to prop the device at a better angle. "Nonsense! If mortals can use it, surely I, a creature of unparalleled intellect, can master it.¡±


    Its leg hovered over another key before pressing it down with a decisive click. The screen flared to life with a hum. The sudden noise startled him, and for an instant, the space around him flickered, collapsing inward into itself as the temporal hold of the dimension shattered, random moments in reality bleeding into themselves simultaneously, as everything stilled, bent, and reversed around each other.


    A spatial singularity began to take place, the walls and every other object in the room lifting upward to join that singular spot in reality. Just as quickly, reality snapped back into place as he regained his composure.


    The chaotic energy emanating from its body slowly ebbed away as the distortion in reality settled back into place. Larry, it''s legs still twitching with the aftershock of the distortion, blinked rapidly as his many eyes recalibrated. The strange device before him had gone dark, its faint hum silenced, and the screen now showed nothing but static.


    He almost thought he heard an ''I told you so'' from the moth, but the creature itself didn''t actually dare to speak those words.


    ¡°I love and hate humans sometimes.¡±


    And so, he continued his attempts to understand the weird device.

 Memes.

    Larry¡¯s web quivered as he cautiously prodded the strange human contraption, the buttons on it emitting soft clicks beneath his tarsus. The machine fascinated him beyond measure. As he scrolled through its numerous options, his many eyes gleamed with curiosity. Then, with a startled chitter, he stumbled upon something entirely unexpected. He found what the mortals called a meme.


    A laugh of genuine amusement escaped him. Of all the things humans had created, this was what captivated him most. When he first gazed down upon Earth, he dismissed them as nothing more than hairless apes fumbling their way through their meager, short lives. They were weak and extremely vulnerable to the elements, and yet, like the other gods, he soon found himself drawing near to them. Their shaky but steady rise in evolution and peculiar sense of humor really made them stand out among the vast majority of the species that lived in the multiverse. This softened his heart and maybe changed his views towards them, but only a little.


    After all, what kind of God of chaos and change would he be if he weren''t delighted by the constant chaotic situations the creatures found themselves in, which ultimately brought a new change to the world?


    The moth, from her perch in the corner of his cavern, which had been completely covered in darkness, observed him cautiously, still trying to remain as small and unnoticeable as possible while blending in with her surroundings. Amusingly enough, this failed, since he could clearly see the soul and life force dangling in her small body. Maybe it was because she thought she was out of sight, but he quickly noticed that she was less shy than she had been when interacting with him before. ¡°Larry,¡± she said slowly, her antennae twitching a bit, ¡°maybe you should just¡­ leave the thing alone.¡±


    ¡°Leave it alone?¡± Larry scoffed, adjusting his grip on the device with the nimbleness of his spindly legs. ¡°You must be joking! This could be the key to my writing success. The mortals use this thing to spread their stories, do they not? If that¡¯s the case, then perhaps my words have simply not reached them in the right format.¡±


    He turned to look back at the contraption, pressing another button on it to see what it would do.


    The screen flickered, and an entirely new image filled Larry¡¯s many eyes. It was another meme, but this time, a crudely drawn depiction of a mortal¡¯s face twisted in exaggerated horror, with a tiny army of angry chickens staring back at the boy, as giant, bold-lettered words that were beautifully written into the image stated, "Beware of chickens.¡±


    Larry let out an amused chitter. ¡°See? This is precisely what I mean! Mortals encapsulate such universal experiences in mere images and a handful of words. It¡¯s practically a form of divine communication, only without the pompous arrogance to go along with it.¡±


    The moth wisely decided to stay quiet, which, in his assumption, meant that he was right. This also managed to stroke his already very fragile ego about being right.


    Larry¡¯s spindly legs twitched with excitement as he continued exploring the strange device, pressing buttons with increasing fervor. His many eyes darted across the screen, each viewing a different piece of the new little world he had discovered.


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Had he still had his face, he would have shown the device to every single god he could, but he didn''t have the luxury anymore to do that. He was a being of change, and he was utterly fascinated by how this small box these mortals had crafted was something he couldn''t possibly think of making on his own.


    He stayed like that for hours, completely entranced by the device, not even noticing that a whole day had passed. His focus only broke after the device had completely lost its power and shut down on him. Larry let out a disappointed hiss, his many eyes flicking back and forth across the now lifeless screen. He clicked the buttons multiple times, as if somehow the contraption might come back to life if he tried hard enough. But the screen remained dark.


    Reality briefly stirred for a moment, but the energy leaking through his vessel was quickly absorbed by him before it could cause any meaningful change in reality that might have alerted someone to his presence. ¡°What happened?!¡± he yelled in panic, his many legs skittering wildly across the stone floor. He flung himself around the device in an almost frantic dance, trying to figure out how to bring it back to life.


    But he couldn''t.


    Hastily looking around for a solution while rummaging through the vast collection of artifacts he had gathered in his dimension, he found no solution to the cause of his current dilemma. The moth watched Larry''s frantic movements with a growing sense of amusement. She had never seen the spider so utterly enraptured by something before, much less by a human''s creation. "It''s out of power," she finally said.


    Larry frowned, turning the device over in his hands. "I can''t sense any mana in it, nor any other type of energy. I don''t even see a core. This isn''t even enchanted, is it?" The moth flicked her antennae, her wings twitching in amusement. "It is, and it isn''t," she said cryptically. "I don¡¯t know exactly what it is, but humans seem to use them all the time. Right now, though? Your precious little contraption is nothing more than a glorified rock.¡±


    Larry''s legs twitched in frustration as he turned the lifeless device over and over. This was treachery, was it not? No, it was unacceptable. Yes, that was it. He had just begun his deep dive into the strange and wonderful realm of mortal humor and was genuinely enjoying himself. No way would he let it end like that. His many eyes locked onto the moth, glowing with an intensity that made her wings flutter in mild alarm. ¡°How do I fix it then?¡± he demanded.


    Perhaps sensing an opportunity to escape, the moth told him that he had to find a new battery that belonged to the human contraption and that it was the only way to replenish its energy, as mana and every other sort of energy might just disrupt or even damage the contraption.


    ¡°I can''t exactly leave here; if I do, I will be in grave danger.¡± Larry clicked his mandibles impatiently. ¡°Well? What do you suggest? I refuse to be separated from my newfound source of entertainment! If I must navigate the mortal world to retrieve this battery, then so be it!¡± But he knew that wasn''t possible. Entropy would erase him from existence the moment he stepped out into the multiverse.


    But that was fine.


    There''s no reason he had to go out.


    There''s no reason anyone had to go.


    ¡°Stay still, I''m going to do something to you.¡± He told the moth.


    The moth recoiled, her wings fluttering in alarm. ¡°Wait, what? No, no, no¡ªwhat are you planning?¡± she chittered, trying to scuttle away deeper into the darkness.


    His consciousness left the temporary shell that was his body as he scoured through multiple universes where said battery might exist. As he did so, he bore witness to the birth of stars, their incandescent light igniting the darkness and laying out the groundwork for creation. He beheld planets crumbling into cosmic dust, only for new worlds to rise from their ashes like phoenixes. He saw civilizations take their first trembling steps upon a newborn lands, only to be swept away by the tides of war. Then, his attention latched onto something, and every other piece of his self that was staring off into the multiverse snapped to that one location.


    Before the moth could react, he seized her midair with his mind, holding her effortlessly in his telekinetic grasp. His consciousness expanded, sweeping across the vast expanse of the universe, scanning countless worlds in search of a suitable vessel. Finally, he found one. "It¡¯s a bit of a journey from here," he murmured, his voice calm yet absolute. "Your true body will remain here, but I will bind your soul to a new form in another universe. Consider it¡­ a second chance.¡±


    She screamed.