What’s up with the title?

I am a sucker for titles that alarm people. Hell, my CommonApp essay was titled “I love eating toothpaste!” (which is probably the reason why I am in Toronto instead of Boston). I thought of a title that would make people question my sanity and recalled this short-lived joke I made about a friend back in seventh grade where I called her “grandma” and voila, I got myself a premise to build on.

What was I aiming at?

Sci-fi. I was interested in world-building that intersected with the idea of yearning alongside something dystopian. I often find myself immersed in inner monologues about a world that exists and does not exist at the same time, a contradiction that is valid but not sound. Here’s a bit of basic philosophy on the distinction of formal logic:

1. World A exists.
2. World A does not exist.
3. Therefore, the weather is fine.

While not sound, this is valid. It is not this deep, but it will make sense in a bit.

What does the introduction mean?

I grew up playing video games that barely hint at its lore. There’s usually an easter egg that in my opinion, seems like a saving grace for developers. The introduction is a diary entry by one of the scientists who worked on Factory 7. Although not intended at the time, I do see similarities between this and Oppenheimer’s infamous, “I have become death” monologue. Factory 7 was kind of intended as an allegorical device representing nuclear warheads, especially the lingering effects of Factory 7.

Why is Factory 7 called Factory 7?

Back in 11th grade, I used to play with AI art a lot. At the time, a Google Colab notebook had an image generator that would generate these “surreal” pictures based on a text prompt. This then led me to be fascinated by Salvador Dali’s works which looked unearthly and very abstract. I then wondered if a weapon that looked abstract would be a fine line between destruction and beauty. The absurd name, “Factory 7” was both a jab at historically destructive weapons having ridiculous names and me being comical. I mean, would anyone want to die from something called “Tuna Man”? The ironic nature of such weapons killing millions having these bizarre names seems like a mockery of some sort. 

Another dimension to this is sorta like the briefcase in Pulp Fiction: it’s dangerous yet alluring, that’s all that there is to know. So Factory 7 is also something that you know is dangerous and that’s it.

What does it really do?

At its core, it’s supposed to turn dreams into reality. But to do so, it must first vaporize people to do so, kinda like how at the climax of a war between countries, everything is destroyed and years later, rebuilt. But there’s a catch: this weapon is very much alive. You know the fear people have about AI gaining sentience? Something like that. I often try my best to make things have a sort of eldritch twist to it so that’s what led to Factory 7 being alive. The line “it shall pierce the heavens above” is essentially Factory 7 breaking the law of life and death. 

In the end, the “mist” is the weapon still in use (kinda like nuclear radiation). A good way for me to explain how this manifests dreams into reality is by a chart:

There is also the question of what it chooses to create as it is selective:

1. The original Lucas was destroyed.
2. The trunk was not.
3. FAC7 finds the trace, but no hope input so the process is at stasis.
4. The narrator returns, hence, initializing the creation process in an input, boolean, and output manner.
5. Selects the intersection of both wants.
6. Creates a replica of Lucas that simply exists.
7. However, this is also the very Lucas who was destroyed.

Essentially, this replica lacked the will of the letter.

(A bit of a digression) Why does the narrator not have a name?

The answer: Would you leap through time for a person based on the idea your mind creates when you hear their name? Or would you leap through time for the person beyond what you’re conditioned to think? 

The real answer: I couldn’t think of a fitting name. 

What happened to Lucas?

The remnant opened the trunk and regained all his memories, but that’s what I intended. Lucas thought he was a clone of the original and hence, caused an alarmingly high level of misinterpreted self-actualization which can cognitively poison anyone. Whether he left for good, went back in time, or just stuck somewhere is up to your imagination. Frankly speaking, I have no clue.

How did the letter get inside the trunk?

He was vaporized in the backyard so he buried the letter right after the narrator and her family left.

Is there any significance to the Northeast and Southeast Regions?

Not really.

What is TempFinite?

Ever since I heard the idea of anarcho-capitalism, I couldn’t help but find it absurd. Yes, it’s a mockery of corporations involved in wars.

The name is, however, quite easy to understand:

Temporal + Finite = TempFinite

This too is an ironic concept as the corporation ended up creating a weapon that broke the laws of time.