The other day, Poliphilos was visiting Phil Collins in Switzerland and they were listening to one of his all-time hits, ‘In The Air Tonight’.

There, the talk went to the drowning incident.

‘There was no drowning incident!’ Phil said.

‘I’m sure there wasn’t!’ Poliphilos agreed. ‘Anyway, it’s interesting how one can base a whole album on one instrument,’ referring to Phil’s debut, ‘Face Value’.

‘Oh, like you based your first album on santoor the other year?’ retorted Phil.

‘Hey, we didn’t have albums back then so it doesn’t count,’ Poliphilos said.

‘Oh yeah? Well, does it count that my song is about cliodynamics?’ Collins asked.

‘Cliowhat? I thought it was about a divorce?’

‘That’s what I’ve officially said. But no, it’s about cliodynamics. It’s been in the air for years already. Like that science fiction story about mathematical sociology, it’s a statistical approach to predicting human history, but focused on climate patterns.

I discovered the work of a reclusive scientist, Dr. Elliot Thompson, who developed a mathematical model spanning centuries. It predicts not just the collapse of modern society but its complete transformation through climate change, economic instability, and geopolitical tensions.’

‘Uh huh?’ said Poliphilos.

‘Yes, and you know what, there are other believers. In fact, you should meet one of them, Astra. She’s a social media influencer who…’

‘Oh no! No social media influencers!’ Poliphilos said.

‘Wait! This one’s different. She’s applying Thompson’s theories across the digital universe. And she’s attending a secret conference here in Zürich. And we’re going.’ 

‘Now?’ asked Poliphilos. 

‘Right now!’ said Collins.

Once in the car and while they passed the airport, it became clear that ‘selected few’ meant selected few billionaires.

A small village of private jets was parked on the other side of the airport, and the last ones were still landing as Collins and Poliphilos took a turn toward the conference venue.

The conference hall buzzed with quiet intensity.

Screens lined the walls, each displaying cascading data streams and probability curves. 

In the center of it all stood what must have been Astra, her presentation already underway. As Poliphilos settled into a seat near the back, her words painted a picture of her journey that had led to this moment.

To catch everybody’s attention, Astra made some Biblical parallels to her story.

‘In the beginning’, she began, ‘My digital network was formless and empty.

Darkness covered the depths of my social media presence, and my message floated unheard in the virtual void.’

‘But I had a vision! Day by day, I built my digital universe.’

‘First came the division of truth from chaos. Then, I created a firmament of verified data. Next came the gathering of knowledge, sprouting new ideas. Finally, I populated my digital realm with followers, each carrying my message further.

‘Her warnings about Thompson’s predictions initially fell on deaf ears’, Collins interjected to Poliphilos.

‘She was dismissed as another doom-monger, her following stagnant in the vast digital space. But, undeterred, she dove deeper into the mathematical certainty of cliodynamics, analyzing current events through its lens: rising temperatures, shifting geopolitical powers, eroding democratic values – all following Thompson’s predicted patterns with the precision of a thousand-year forecast.’

And from his quiet corner of the digital landscape, Poliphilos observed something others had missed – the mathematical inevitability of her message’s spread.

Like those self-replicating machines in that engineering story about space exploration, Poliphilos thought that her content really had a new potential to reach every corner of the digital universe. It just needed the right catalyst.

After the event, Poliphilos invited Astra to Collins place and together they designed a plan. They started working the space in the following week.

First, through anonymous accounts and encrypted messages, Poliphilos began sharing strategic insights with Astra’s network.

His suggestions, often appearing at crucial moments, helped Astra implement what her followers would later call ‘The Genesis Protocol.’

This meant that a subtle verification system emerged at the gates of her content. It didn’t block access entirely, but ensured only genuine seekers entered.

More and more of the true believers did start arriving and each was vetted digitally at the gates. 

Then, like digital explorers multiplying across the cosmos, Astra’s message began replicating across platforms, each new instance adapted to its local digital ecosystem.

As her influence grew, Astra’s support network expanded organically.

While Astra’s community of believers grew stronger, Poliphilos remained in the shadows, offering occasional guidance through secure channels.

Astra’s message gained momentum not through any single person’s efforts, but through the collective power of those who understood its importance.

The turning point arrived with a cascade of Thompson’s predicted catastrophes – environmental, economic, and geopolitical crises confirming the mathematical model’s accuracy.

But by then, Astra’s digital universe had evolved.

Her message existed in countless variations, each one a perfect replica yet uniquely adapted to its audience, like digital scouts finding new worlds.

World leaders began taking notice as Astra’s predictions, backed by Thompson’s digital psychohistory, proved increasingly accurate.

Her content network, now a self-replicating system of knowledge, reached every digital corner of human civilization.

Then, late one night, studying one of Astra’s mathematical models, Poliphilos noticed something in the wave patterns of her predictive graphs.

When he mapped the cyclic data points to musical frequencies, an energetic melody emerged from the numbers.

The rises and falls of societal patterns had been singing their story all along – he just hadn’t been listening in the right way.

Thus, ‘All These Worlds Are Yours’ was born from this digital symphony, the mathematical certainty of Thompson’s predictions transformed into sound.

The paths of Astra and Poliphilos converged once again later that year at the United Nations assembly in Geneva, where representatives gathered to address the cascading crises.

But by then, it was no longer just Astra speaking – it was thousands of her digital instances, each carrying the message to different worlds of human understanding.

From his seat in the back of the assembly hall, Poliphilos watched as the question shifted from whether officials would acknowledge the validity of Thompson’s predictions to whether humanity could adapt fast enough to the new universe they’d helped create.

Only time would tell.