The Multiversers wrote fiction. Some, even, wrote reality.

They wanted to create new worlds, new universes vastly different. Different slightly, or different completely, from the world that we share between us. From Hollywood to Fox, from real to simulated, they wrote, filmed, podcasted, tweeted, chatted, fauxbotted and talked with their personal perspectives. Distorted from the reality around them. From their distorted imaginations, they made realities beyond compare. They wrote it all. They wrote our destruction into the future. The multiversers did everything possible to write a different future. What they thought was a better future. For themselves, individually. They optimized for their own individual genes, their own individual ideas. They wanted their future to live on and them within it. But what they wrote was not what we needed, on average. We needed more encouragement. Education. Wit. Optimism. Fact. Realism. They did not give us that. The Multiversers gave us more pain, suffering, and Fear. Fear of things that never were. Fear of things that could never be.

Multiversers were fictionists with the highest of skills. They imagined their own best futures often in direct competition with others, instead of collaboration.It made complete sense. Their selfish DNA had to do this. Had the not done this, they wouldn't have gotten so far. Through the stories they made, and with through the stories they shared, the Multiversers lived longer.

We didn't realize who the masterful fictionists were until it was too late for it to really matter. Certainly, on smaller scales, towns, states, and even a few countries had realized who the Multiversers were. A number of individuals too saw who the multiversers were. On rare occasion, individuals beyond the standard deviations would announce it to everybody. If their voices were loud, could their shouts be heard. Their voices could only be heard faintly in the noises of everything else. Only for a few of the lucky and loudest, could their word penetrate the fog of multimodal distractions that consumed

Every multiverser that could contributed their perspectives at some level, did so. And sharing their imagined perspectives changed reality. Writing their own words Sharing their own beliefs. Taking their own actions.

All of it.

The imaginary became closer to reality. Sometimes even became real. Atlas fighting against the heavy tug of reduced information the up the infinite hills of entropy. They spun belief and science into a twisted yarn of fully imagined and fully real. Then they wove the yearn into the fabric of every society. They wrote maths, languages, to describe their perspectives. They could never get it right. They were artists, knowing they could have always done a little better, and could always still do a little more.

What we share phrases meaning within the symphonies that we create in notes that are both physical, and non-physical frequencies. Eventually, we figured out who all of the multiversers were. We are the ones wrote our world. We are the multiversers who write our worlds.