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"...hm. Yes. I mean... well, you... you're also presumably a gibberish-knowing mind, right? Some species of alien or alternate human from one of those infinite universes probably has a word that sounds like- um, what was it, a znorfblarg or whatever I said. They're just not here. So... does it... does it pull all the languages from the world a customer comes from, or... did you learn Russian when you materialized that dictionary?"

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I already knew Russian, I assure you, says the bar.

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"Hhhhhuh. I assumed... if you don't... you remember every language you learn? I- right, I was thinking of you as human, limited memory... is it possible for you to materialize a dictionary in some language you don't know, and see if it has the same result? Or do you know every language in your library?"

Mumble grumble flawed experimental design grumble hrumble.
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I know all of the languages I have ever heard of, and I am not now and have never previously been a human. My memory is not perfect, but it is not limited in language capacity.

The elf is peering at his napkins curiously.
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Max takes that as a not-a-demand-for-information, and slides the used napkins down the bar.

"Do you- I mean, I'm gonna go out on a limb and guess you don't have any idea why a magic pub would be interested in having you here."
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"I have no idea," agrees the elf. She flips through the napkins, then pulls out a notebook and starts taking notes. "But I do not object to the opportunity to explore it."

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"Yeah, well." He rests his arms on the counter. "I've been here for hours- mostly reading about physics- and nothing's given me any idea why this place is here. Someone's powerful enough to build a bar that can open into arbitrary locations and times in multiple universes, has an agenda secretive enough that they don't even tell the bar why it exists, automatically translates all languages perfectly, can materialize whatever it wants, and... and I can just leave whenever I want! I should... I ought to be being manipulated into something, right? Who goes out of their way to make... this, if it's not to..."

Max makes a weary noise and slumps back in his chair.

(And subsequently realizes it's a barstool, and struggles to regain his balance.)
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"It seems a kindness. Perhaps not a kindness of perfect efficiency, but few are. There need not be much agenda involved."

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"Ha! Haha, oh, wow, hahahahah-" and, he loses his battle with gravity.

"I'm okay! I'm fine." He climbs back onto the stool, giggling softly.
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"This makes good hearing. It is not my wish to do you harm."

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"So, yes. A kindness, heh. If there's someone powerful enough to cross between universes, build consciousnesses, universally translate, and create anything they like on the spot... whatever this is, it's intentional. There has to be a reason for this beyond... some kind of benevolent whim. Nobody goes to the trouble of getting that kind of power just to do something like this."

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"Not all power is intentionally sought. You seem to be willing to take the bar's word for it that her own considerable ability is something she began with."

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He rolls his eyes.

"I'm not taking her word for anything. I just don't have enough information to figure out what she's more than likely lying to cover up. All I've got to go by is what these napkins say, and these napkins say she's got shadowy superiors who don't tell her anything. Not like I have leverage to make her stop feigning ignorance if she is."
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"If you believe this establishment is so so sinister, you could, you have mentioned, leave rather than risk participating in its agenda."

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"Oh, I guarantee participating in its sinister agenda would be more interesting than anything I could have planned for the afternoon. I just want it to happen already instead of keeping me in suspense! Driving me crazy, waiting around... well, waiting around reading an extremely interesting physics textbook, but... waiting."

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"Perhaps nothing is waiting to spring out at you."

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"That's what I'm afraid of, yeah. That... whatever this place was built for, the builders forgot about it, or put it on the back burner, or got themselves killed. Or that it's a byproduct of something else, and they never cared about it in the first place. I've just... there's gotta be some answers, somewhere! As far as I know, this is the most important place in existence, and nothing is happening in it!"

He sighs and turns to the bar.

"Where's that room I bought? Think I'd like to take a look around."
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Room 559, says the bar, materializing a key. It will be on the fifth floor to your right, on the left-hand side.

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Fifth floor to your right...

Max takes the key and walks over to the stairs. He's not totally sure he's interpreting the directions right, but he finds his way to the fifth floor and follows the room numbers to 559. He opens the door and surveys the room.
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It is a small room with a window overlooking the lake, an ensuite bathroom, a twin bed, a desk and a desk chair, soft carpeting, and good lighting.

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It's a really lovely room, very cozy, nothing to complain about. The view is very ni-

Wait why is the view very nice, what happened to the exploding stars, what in the hell-

Max runs over and opens the window- and too late wonders whether the scenery might be an illusion and whether opening the window would suck him into the vacuum of space- but by all appearances, outside the window seems to lie a pristine wilderness with a perfectly ordinary sky. He waves his hand around outside a bit before turning and dashing back downstairs.

"What's that- up there, out the window?!" he shouts, the moment he steps foot on the first floor. "There's a lake! What happened to the stars?!"
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The stars are in the front, explains a napkin. The lake and forest and so on are in the back. Do you want to exchange your room for one with a front view?

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"No, I don't want to- where is this? I assumed- I didn't think about the stars, I didn't- I thought they were decorative, what- how can the sky be different in the back, what's- is there some sort of dome, a- what's all that doing there?!"

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I have never, says the bar, actually been outside myself, you realize.

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"That's...!"

That's a remarkably good point, actually.

"You... but, that is a noticeably atypical outside, I'm sure you... or... most universes, they do have continuous..."

How do you ask a sentient location about... their familiarity with...

"Just... what do you know about the outside, besides that half of it is stars and half of it is... whatever you said, lake and forest and so on?"
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