#metacontext

In fact, races that can be described as on the same level as the humanish are very widespread. Alpha has many non-humanish that live in secrecy, Zeta has a few, Lambda had a few develop after the Last War, Nu has quite a few, and Rho has some in the Skylands. However, these do not compare to new Gamma and Lambda, where the humanish are in a small minority, compared to the huge number of other races that live in their respective worlds.

The non-human races of Sigma tend to differ wildly, although there are a few races that resemble others from other universes, due to inter-universal trends at work. Some are friendly to the humanish, some are hostile, but many are apathetic. Some possess giant empires, others are interspersed with other races. It’s not possible to blanket every one of the non-humanish races as you can with the humanish; after all, the humanish are essentially just one single species, with a bunch of subspecies spread across Sigma.

It took a loud outpouring of indignation from these races, as well as the appointment of non-humanish representatives by Zeta and Psi, for the Sigma Council to begin considering them when talking about the beings of Sigma. However, even then, the Council has been dragging its feet as far as representation for the non-humanish aspects of Sigma.  

When talking about non-humanish as a whole, they are often separated into different Class designations. Each Class signals the level of development each non-humanish race is at, intellectually, culturally, and socially. However, the Class designation system is often decried by those of non-humanish races, as it’s seen as needlessly segregating, as well as too simplistic and too ‘humanish-centric’, as it is based off humanish metrics. Nonetheless, though, it is the system most frequently used by those in Sigma.

The Class designations are as follows.

Class I “Reaching” is used to describe ‘non-humanish species that are of notable sentience, although do not seem to meet the humanish’. These are species such as chimpanzees, where, while particularly intelligent, are nowhere near humanish levels. Often, basic tool use is observed, as well as basic socialization and organization.

Class II “Loner” is used to describe ‘non-humanish species that meet humanish level sentience, although are deficient in either culture, intellect, and/or socialization’. In a sense, you can meaningfully communicate with a Class II, and it is possible to integrate Class IIs into humanish society, but they do not really have a society or cultural history otherwise. Class IIs are seen as the baseline for ‘humanish-level sentience’, and it signifies that a member of its race is roughly on-par with a member of the humanish.

Class III “Tribal” is used to describe ‘non-humanish species that meet humanish level sentience and possess a basic social structure’. Essentially, a Class III is similar to a combination between Class I and II, where a race at the sentience level of a Class II forms basic groups, such as a tribe. Here, more advanced tool use can be seen, as well as a shared culture between members of the race.

Class IV “Kingdom” is used to describe ‘non-humanish species that meet humanish level sentience, and form larger, more governed societies’. A Class IV race is one that is considered to be one where a group of them are on par with a sovereign state of humanish. At this point, Class designations become less about how intelligent a race is, and more how far their reach is. Class IV races often possess intricate cultural, sociological, and scientific histories.

Class V “Imperial” is used to describe ‘non-humanish species that meet humanish level sentience, and possess large amounts of cultural, sociological, scientific, or political influence of not only their territory, but that of other species as well’. Effectively, Class V races are more than regional powers, but global ones as well.

Class VI “Galactic” is used to describe ‘non-humanish species that meet humanish level sentience, and possess cultural, sociological, scientific, or political influence in territory extending past the planet of their origin’. Class VI races are spacefaring ones, and there are several non-humanish races that meet this designation. However, none of them live on any of the Earth-likes.

The agents make up the Agency’s presence ‘in the field’, normally involved with investigation, field research, conducting missions and operations, capturing, containment, neutralization, anything that the Agency might need to do outside of their facilities. When not undercover in plainclothes, these agents are recognizable through the agent standard: a black suit, black tie, sunglasses, and earpiece. However, agents in higher rankings are less strictly held to the standard, and many of the higher-level agents usually deviate in a slight way, usually wearing a different style of sunglasses than is provided by the Agency.

Agents are trained, skilled, and disciplined, and, in order for them to reach the point of being sent out in the field, they must pass training. As a result, many agents, even a lower ranking one, are dangerous. While agents are expected to possess at least a basic level of proficiency in many skills, agents can ‘specialize’ if they want, which can prove to be a way of letting them stand out from the rest of the agents and prove their worth, meaning better chance at being promoted. If you’re one of the best at infiltration, then you’re going to be the Agency’s go-to for infiltration, after all.

Agents first enter the Agency through the Agency’s ‘talent scouting’, where the Agency looks for people who show true agent potential. This can be highly subjective, and, ultimately, up to the Agency’s scouts, but once someone is selected, they’re put through a process where they are interviewed, and, if they seem appropriate enough, they are given the job offer. Becoming an agent means discarding your former life, eschewing every relationship and person you’ve ever met, ridding yourself of everything you own, and shedding your identity, to be ‘reborn’ as a new agent. If you decline the offer, that’s dealt with easily with some amnesiacs administered, but an acceptation means that you officially become an agent.

Every new agent is provided with a number and a codename. The number represents their ranking as an agent, and their codename is used as a codename is often used for, although many agents have taken to utilizing their codenames as a ‘personal name’ when associating with their coworkers. The codenames are seemingly given at random, and there doesn’t seem to be any meaning, choice, or thought put into them.  The main unifier between codenames is that they are often a single word, one that is a noun or a name. Examples of codenames are “Branch”, “Roosevelt”, “Helvetica”, “Conch”, and “B Minor”.

The ranking system of the Agency is done by tiers, which the number assigned to an agent points towards. However, agents with higher numbers than other agents within the same tier aren’t any higher ranked. Agent 34 is not any higher ranked than Agent 74, and neither are ranked any higher than Agent 99. Additionally, there is a set amount of numbers for each rank (barring Agents in Training), and, in order to keep onto your rank, you must prove your worth in your work. If a Veteran Agent doesn’t prove his worth, he risks switching numbers (and ranks) with a regular Agent, the rank below Veteran.

The lowest rankings are the numbers above 10000, which represent Agents in Training. Agents in Training is comprised of newly recruited agents, as well as anyone who was demoted enough to fall back into the Agents in Training pool. Here, Agents in Training are, true to their name, in training, which means that they are typically kept out of field work. However, whenever there aren’t enough agents for missions, or not enough agents with a specific skillset, Agents in Training are the ones pulled out for field work. Additionally, Agents in Training periodically are brought along for field tests, in order to see if they can adequately operate and function when on a mission. If someone stays within this rank for too long a period, they must go under reevaluation, and, if they are deemed not good enough to be an agent, they can enter another occupation under the Agency. If not that, then they get disposed of.

The rank above Agent in Training is the Agent, who makes up the bulk of the actual manpower utilized in the field. The Agents are usually led by their superiors when on missions, and are often not in leadership positions. Most of the footwork and labor that doesn’t require high skill are done by the Agents. Agents make up numbers 1001 to 10000.

Above the Agent is the Veteran Agent, who, through either their skill, presence in the Agency, or both, are chosen to operate in a senior position. The Veteran Agents are typically used to conduct investigation, and often are used as the Agency’s scouts. Veteran Agents are usually paired up, and often are under the command of an Elite Agent, but, occasionally, Veteran Agents are allowed to take up the reigns of leadership. Otherwise, though, they often boss the Agents around. The Veteran Agents make up numbers 101 through 1000.

The Elite Agents are above the Veteran Agents in rank. Elite Agents are usually the ones in charge of operations, and they also handle most solo missions. These agents are often not closely managed, and are frequently left to handle missions in any way they like. Numbers 11 through 100 are reserved for Elite Agents.

The highest-ranking agents within the Agency are within the Top Ten, numbers 1 through 10. These agents often do much less fieldwork than the other agents, and are often in charge of administration of the Agency, but are occasionally selected to do missions that others cannot handle.

The Nexus starkly contrasts the chaos of the Anti-Nexus. Whereas the Anti-Nexus is a constantly-shifting, irregular hellscape, the Nexus is tranquil, calm, and still. The Nexus is a black void, an endless expanse resembling space, with a single, inconceivably large ball of energy within the middle of it. Those who have been to the Nexus and lived describe it as having an aura of stillness and peace, one that, although unnatural, instilled within them a sublime sense of tranquility.

However, people aren’t supposed to access the Nexus. The human body reacts poorly in open contact with unfiltered light emanating from the Nexus, and this is where elementals come from.

While it’s a very general, basic way of putting it, it’s fair to say that demons come from the Anti-Nexus. And, in turn, elementals come from the Nexus. However, whereas demons are usually born from the Anti-Nexus, elementals are born from people going into the Nexus. As a result of the exposure to Nexus energy, the human body often mutates savagely, along with anything in, around, or on it, and what results is the elemental.

The name ‘elemental’ is a bit of a misnomer, as, while they do typically possess metahuman-esque abilities, they do not strictly involve any sort of ‘element’, whether chemical or mythological. However, elementals do embody one thing, which their appearance and abilities are often based around. This can be anything, and, if the stars align, one can be a cake elemental or something of that nature, but normally, an elemental embodies a simple, basic concept. Usually, this does involve something like fire, or water, or metal, hence why the name elemental is used.

In a normal metaverse, anything that came from outside the Nexus would instantly disintegrate into raw Cloud energy, and elementals wouldn’t be something to worry about. However, as Sigma is in the state it’s in, this doesn’t always come into play. Entrance into the Nexus shouldn’t even be possible, yet a surprising number of things just so happen to make it in. The process of becoming an elemental is a horrific, mind-warping, metaphysical nightmare, an inconceivably awful process to go through. It twists and changes the victim on a quantum level, and this typically leads to elementals being driven completely mad, or onto a completely different plane of understanding altogether. However, lucid elementals do exist.

The Nexus and the Anti-Nexus are supposed to be in a state of balance, equilibrium, that forms the Cloud and ensures that everything can, well, exist. However, for Sigma, the balance is in absolute disarray. The demigod of the Nexus was consumed by the demigod of the Anti-Nexus, who fled to the Quarter, rather than deal with maintaining the Cloud. This led to the primary issue that makes Sigma so unusual, a trickle of Cloud energy into the Quarter, and, by extension, the universes of pre-Sigma (and, after the Great Unification, Sigma).

A big part of the Cloud energy leakage stems from the Anti-Nexus. A constantly-shifting, chaotic, erratic, eclectic, enigmatic, almost sentient landscape, anyone unlucky enough to find themselves there might expect to encounter a place devoid of life, physics, and sense. Geometric impossibilities, optical illusions, repeating patterns, the Anti-Nexus is seemingly a place engineered to be as off-putting and disorienting as possible. Energy from the Anti-Nexus, known as ‘anti-energy’, flows freely into the rest of the metaverse, but especially the Quarter, where it seemingly pools into.

Occasionally, through an alignment of many different factors, variables, and events, the Anti-Nexus focuses itself and spits out something that can often be described as a living, sentient being. This is what is known as a demon. A rude and presumptive name, but it’s the one that stuck.

The Agency’s existence is a special example of an inter-universal trend. Among an incalculable number of universes, at some point in humanish history, there would be groups, organizations, teams, institutions, all dedicated to a wide array of different metacontextual matters, that would develop. Who would create them, exactly what they were dedicated to, where they got their money from, it would range massively. However, every single one of these entities would be known, at some point in their respective histories, as the Agency.

It’s not clear who made the first contact, but, ultimately, it didn’t matter. Across the megaverse, slowly, like a row of lights illuminating one by one, different universes would stumble upon the discovery that there were multiple universes. Through this, again, one by one, they would discover something known as the Ridovii Method, a way to communicate between universes. Granted, the Ridovii Method would offer poor quality, easily corruptible, sensitive communication, but it allowed legitimate, actual communication between different universes.

From there, it took little time for all of these Agencies to find out that the common thread linking them was their name, and this led to the Standardization of the Agencies, a great effort between the Agencies to share their technologies and discoveries. From here, as well, the mission of the Agency was born. The discovery of the megaverse was huge, so huge, that it made the Agencies feel rather small. This, coupled with the new knowledge of just how different the universes could be, and the sheer amount of anomalies that resulted from the Cloud energy leaking within the megaverse, gave the Agencies a sense of duty. As they were the ones who knew all this, they had an obligation to keep everything in check, to do their part in maintaining peace and harmony within the megaverse. And so, the Agencies consolidated into a singular Agency, with branches across universes.

After some time, though, this proved to be not enough for the Agency. After they began their quest to deal with anomalies, they found themselves perturbed by the sheer amount of them cropping up, as well as how the amount seemed to creep up over the years, across just about every universe. Agency think tanks began to take on the role of metaphorical oracles and doomsayers, coming up with all sorts of potential anomalies that could end up affecting more than one universe, thinking of ways that the megaverse could potentially meet its end.

All of this was happening while the Agency was in a severely decentralized, loosely-managed state. Since the branches could only communicate with one another, they mostly did whatever they felt like, and there was no oversight across the Agency (as it was impossible). Fearing an anomaly occurring on an interuniversal scale, this is when the Agency launched Operation Rainbow. The operation was one that spanned multiple universes, a huge research project headed by a scientist known as Dr. Aotumns, created with the goal of finding some way to allow better communication and unity between the Agency’s many branches.

It took years, but eventually, through mysterious means, the operation bore the sweetest fruit of them all: a teleportation system, one that allowed teleportation between universes. The creation of this system launched an organizational effort that allowed for the proliferation of teleporters between the many branches, and led to what was deemed the ‘Golden Age of the Agency’. With the help of Aotumns, the Agency vastly increased its reach, through both greater organization, and the creation of many technologies that bolstered the efficacy of the Agency’s efforts. Agency’s unseen reach over many of the universes within the pre-Sigma megaverse was huge, with millions of branches and billions of employees, and, while it was still a fool’s errand to ensure total containment of all anomalies that pop up, the Agency was doing pretty good work, all things considered.

Then the Great Unification occurred.

In what seemed like an instant, those millions of branches were pared down to eight (Lambda and Omega didn’t have Agency presence before the GU), and, suddenly, the majority of the Agency’s employees just disappeared. Nearly all of the Agency’s leadership were in non-Sigma universes. The greatest of anomalies had struck, and the Agency had absolutely no idea that anything close to it was going to happen.

Predictably, the Agency was thrust into chaos, and it seemed like there was going to be a total collapse of the Agency. The eight branches were filled with people who were from universes that were now gone, much of the leadership had vanished, and anyone on field duty was now left in the dark. It took the efforts of what little of the leadership that was left, along with the efforts of a handful of agents with the Agency’s best interests in heart, to steer the branches back into a stable state.

By the time of the Great Unification, the fact that there were multiple universes was old news to the Agency. In fact, at that point, the Agency already possessed methods of inter-universal transportation. In fact, the Great Unification was one of the worst things that happened to the Agency, as the loss of so many universes meant the loss of an inconceivable amount of personnel, as well as greater difficulty in containing that which needed to be contained.

But, wait, hold on. What is the Agency? Who’s in it? How and why did they have such intimate knowledge and access? These are question few people ask, and even fewer people get answers to. Disregarding the amount of [REDACTED], access clearance required, and black tape, the Agency’s best interest was, and still is, ensuring as few people as possible are aware of them and their work.

The Agency is, simply put, the quintessential shadowy, behind-the-scenes organization that exists within Sigma, and their goal is to ensure the continued function and stability of the megaverse. However hard that may be. The original work the Agency did, and still does, for the most part, is in the containment and/or neutralization of aberrances and anomalies across the megaverse, which, essentially, meant dealing with anything that wasn’t ‘normal’. While a subjective term, it was still based on a universe-by-universe basis.

The term metahuman, much like any other term that’s used as an attempt to generalize things across Sigma’s universes, is one that is not completely agreed upon. For universes such as old Gamma, where a theoretical metahuman would not be seen as out of the ordinary, the term seems unnecessary. For universes such as Alpha and Beta, where metahumanity is minimal, the designation is desired. 

As a result, there are different qualifiers for metahuman status, depending on where you go. In every case, though, the status is more just a cultural one than an official one, as there is no real law or mandate regarding whether someone counts as a metahuman or not.

For simplicity sake, the term metahuman is given to those who exhibit abilities and traits that are not naturally attainable by humans within Alpha. If someone somehow gained the ability to shoot lasers from their eyes, for example, they’d be seen as a metahuman. 

Before the Great Unification, every universe had some amount of metahumans, but the amount varied immensely between them. Alpha and Beta, for example, had a very low amount of metahumans, and, most of the time, they were either denounced as fakes, phonies, con artists, magicians, psychics, witches, delusionals, false prophets, and so on and so forth, or treated as mystics, shamans, and actual messiahs. And a lot of them had a funny tendency to disappear in the night, never to be seen again. Just how many metahumans actually existed in these universes, though, is unknown, as there were plenty of fake metahumans, too. Old Gamma, on the other hand, had those with the Arts, and Epsilon, while eternally strange, had a shockingly low amount of what can be considered legitimate metahumans. 

After the Great Unification, though, a phenomenon began to occur in each universe: the Metahuman Surge. Different universes experienced the Surge in different ways, but in each universe, there was a sudden increase in the occurrence of metahumans. Sure, there were metahumans moving from one universe to another, but there was also an unexplained spike in metahumans being born, people gaining metahuman abilities, and metahumans seemingly coming out of the woodwork. 

In some universes, there haven’t really huge increases. In Alpha and Beta, for example, even after the Surge began, they’ve only seen a tiny trickle of new metahuman recordings. Meanwhile, in Epsilon, there’s been an abnormally large explosion in metahumans, although, to be honest, the people of Epsilon didn’t really notice.

 The study of metahumanity is one of many fields that have been labeled ‘Sigma fields’: new branches of study and research that were essentially ‘created’ by the Great Unification. Out of the various Sigma fields, the study of metahumanity is one of the more popular ones, because, c’mon, who doesn’t wanna study people who can shoot lightning bolts out of their hands? 

Now, the question that arises when there are humans in each universe, even in universes that arose from different seeds, is ‘what are the chances that similar things seemed to just happen in similar ways, in unconnected universes?’. The answer to that is one word: trends.

Not only are there humans in each universe, but there’s also an Earth (though not always called Earth), and the human cultures (and even non-human cultures) seem to have a tendency towards coming up with similar languages, mythologies, and cultural identities. 

Mandarin Chinese, the language, develops over centuries within Alpha. Meanwhile, within Psi, a completely unrelated universe, there’s a completely unrelated culture that develops their own language, which is, for all purposes, a slightly modified version of the language, so close that it could even be considered a dialect. Why?