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The Personal Entanglement Neural Interface Spike™ slides out and retracts into the chair and the standard AR opticals take over, displaying the DeVRntArt logo floating in space. Imagine, people used to use bulky devices as big as their hands to access the web, which translated binary signals into pixels and text- and it was their primary data transfer medium! A world without quantum processing! It’s so common now that people even use it to create art.

Maybe three people in the sector understand the math fully, and they’re still arguing over whether Q-stim artists actually create alternative realities by the very act of imagining them, or if they just create pathways to one of an infinite number of realities that already existed. It’s irrelevant, though- the worlds exist.

Somewhere in the universe, Mandy is laughing with her friends after the show, having jumped out from behind Tracy while she stared, distraught, at a big concrete block with a bridesmaid dress wrapped around it. There, Chardonnay trades jokes with her stage crew as they change out of the police costumes, and she mixes some silicone to repair the life-like RealDoll strapped to the target board.

But somewhere in the universe, Mandy really is stone dead, suffocated, encased in concrete, skin desiccated, burnt, and split. And somewhere else, the concrete is gas permeable, and Mandy really is forever trapped inside, naked, unable to move, see, speak, hear, tears of fear and despair running down her cheeks as she slowly starves to death while each blow with hammer and chisel only further hardens her tomb.

Somewhere, people are just reading words describing the whole thing- though it’s tough to imagine what they must be thinking.

Here, Mandy’s spike has also disengaged, and she shivers at the memory of the cold, wet cement. Penny is pleased to see she can see, and flexes her arms, rubs her elbows. EnglishDamsel shudders from her crushing orgasm, and QuinnTheAssistant rubs her breast, surprised to find no holes.

And you- contemplating the real worlds the Q-stim artist created/discovered and shared with you- just a sliver of a select few worlds, where magic really exists, where real people were divided or crushed flat, where real people were very non-magically tortured and killed, where both none and all of their deaths and magical dismemberments and actual experiences are shared with you through the quantum entanglement spike inserted in your skull- you... Well, you find yourself rather turned on, you sick fuck.

“You’re depraved, GwydionR” you comment, grinning, and your avatar echoes it for the rest of the Deviants to see. “I love it,” you continue, and mentally flick the “Like” icon.