The Double Cult Cha-Cha: An Al Squires of the Protectorate Story (Book 1)

Ch. 17.2: The Astral Plane or Bust; or, 'Shatter Me.'

After setting my room with the proper conditions for meditation (candles, mood music, incense, the whole nine), I sat at the foot of my bed Indian-style, the package in my hand. I opened the package to reveal a small sheet with about a dozen round and white tablets stuck on it like button candy. These beauties were what the Psychedelic Monks call 'Mandala'. This particular 'meditative aid' is called this because each tablet has a small, yet highly detailed, colorful and individualized mandala etched and painted on them. For those among you dear Readers who are unfamiliar with mandalas, they are geometric configuration of symbols with many spiritual connotations to them. Used in Buddhism and other Eastern religions, they are to help one focus while meditating and to induce a trance. These Mandala tablets do the same thing, but to the 25th power. I should tell you, dear Readers, that I took my last Mandala tablet not long before this whole story began, and I forgot to contact Brother Ohm for more with everything that was going on. Naturally, knowing the extent of his abilities, it was no coincidence that Brother Om sent these new tablets just when I needed them.

It should be said, dear Readers, that I've heard that the Monks distribute a variation of Mandala to a faction within an organization in their Earth. This organization has had many names in the past, but in modern times, it is known simply as 'the Agency.' From what I've heard of them, they're like the Protectorate, except for three major differences: One, their jurisdiction is one universe (more or less), but I heard that it was one of those universes with those 'multi-layered realities' that you see in Magical Realism stories. Two, they're more of an ad-hoc collection of secret societies, semi-clandestine organizations and even individuals with certain unique abilities and specialties than an actual agency; they just happen to have the same goal (something about the 'welfare of their Universe' or something like it). And three, their 'agents'- the ones on that universe's Earth, at least- are human. Well, mostly. I'd tell you more about this Agency of weirdos, but frankly that's entirely another story; one that isn't mine to tell. (Hint, hint.)

As I took one of the tablets out from the sheet, I opened my mouth, placed the tablet on my tongue, and closed my mouth to let the Mandala melt. I then closed my eyes and began to take deep, rhythmic breaths. It's difficult to explain in exact word what happened next, but I'll try the best they can:

It took a while for a reaction to happen; but as I breathed in the incense long enough and listened to the hypnotic tones of the meditation music, the desired effect began to take place. Gradually, the blackness from the inside of my eyelids began to be replaced by bright tie-dye of liquid colors crashing and swirling in front of my sightless eyes. There were a variety of colors: some colors I recognized, some were an almost oily mixture of two or more, and few were colors that didn't really exist in the physical world.

Sometime after the colors came into my view, they at last began to take shape. At first, they started out as rudimentary shapes, then became more and more detailed and developed the more I looked at them. Some of the shapes even merged with each other, then began to stretch and broaden until they became a representation of the ground. Of course, not being there in the physical sense, I didn't need the ground to move around. I suspected that it was formed as a sort of reference point created for my benefit.

When the 'ground' became fully formed, I felt as though I was looking at one of those psychedelic paintings coming to life right in front of my very eyes: the colors began to move side by side while keeping their liquid nature, and the shapes became more solid floating in what would be perceived as 'mid-air.' Some of these shapes had so many shapes and were configured in such impossible ways, it was as if the Astral Plane was giving both Euclid and Pythagoras the finger.

However, the one detail that truly made it look like what I saw was a living psychedelic painting were the giant faces floating way up in what would be perceived as the sky; looking as though they were flowing in and out of each other. I like to think that he faces belonging to the masters who have transcended beyond the corporeal realm and became a part of the Astral Plane through one way or another. Of course, it should be said that I'm not sure if that's true. The thing is this is how I perceive the Astral Plane every time I visit; it appears differently to all who enter it. It goes without saying that the Astral Plane isn't a physical place, but rather a metaphysical one.