I send a telepathic signal to Sophia, indicating that I feel ready to resume our conversation, and wait patiently for her reply.
As I mentioned before, I could not help but feel that our love of power had been kept a secret for a reason. I knew well that the shame associated with the dark side of that love, in tandem with the pride associated with the bright side of that love, kept it secret and alive.
I gaze upon the cityscape, watching millions of lights twinkle in the night, my mind caught inside a delicious reverie.
"Christos."
Sophia whispers my name and I smile, sensing her divine presence behind me. I turn around to greet her with my sacred presence, thinking that it is so like her to show up before she replies to my signals of readiness.
"Sophia, let us dive yonder."
"Let us dive yonder" is my way of saying, "Let us have a change of scene".
As much as I enjoy the cityscape scenario in our simulated reality, what with its balcony and its city lights at night, I sometimes need a change of pace when I wish to discuss a question in depth, which is what I wanted to do now. We tend to be creative with our scenic transitions in virtual reality.
Sophia and I levitate to the top of the balcony railing with our backs to the cityscape. I take her hand. We look at each other and smile.
We dive off the balcony into empty space. The rush of sound is deafening, and the freefall is deliriously terrifying, at least for me. In the midst of our dive, our perception of time all but disappears into the space around us.
When our backs hit a fabric at bottom, our sense of time returns with a jolt, and the fabric stretches for what seems like an eternity until it can stretch no more, catapulting us back up into our next scene: the top of a mountain on a spring-like evening with a commanding but gorgeous and panoramic view.
We land on the summit feet first, touching down in a feather-like motion.
"You had a question, Christos."
I raise my hand to caress her cheek. "Yes."
