Adam Thompson strolled down the mortal world's streets with the grace of a man who had mastered the universe but was deeply, painfully bored. Every step was calculated to relieve this crushing tedium, yet somehow, pedestrians still existed in the most mundane way possible.
Walking? Mortals actually call this exercise? Boring. Absolutely, monumentally boring.
He spotted a man arguing with a parking meter. "No! I'm not paying for… why won't you… fine! Just… UGH!"
Adam sighed audibly. "Yes. Very dramatic. But… boring."
A pigeon flew past his head. Adam lazily waved a hand, and the bird gently hovered in place like it had suddenly discovered existential dread. The pigeon squawked, flapped, and then plopped to the sidewalk.
Even birds are boring in this world.
He leaned against a streetlamp—one that promptly grew legs and started walking. Adam raised an eyebrow. "Interesting. Slightly entertaining. But still… underwhelming."
A child nearby squealed. "Look, Mom! That man's magic!"
Yes. Magic. I call it boredom eradication.
"Magic? No, I'm just… extremely bored," Adam said. "And this…," he gestured vaguely at the pigeon, the walking lamp, and the screaming man at the parking meter, "is me trying not to fall asleep out of sheer existential despair."
"Sir… can you… not?" a pedestrian asked.
Pathetic.
Adam waved a hand. A hot dog vendor's cart spun in midair, hot dogs orbiting like tiny, meaty moons. "Relieve boredom," he muttered. "First rule of the mortal world: chaos cures tedium."
The vendor screamed. "My hot dogs! What—what is happening?"
Exactly.
Adam walked toward a street performer juggling oranges. He yawned, loud enough to startle the performer. Yes. Even small talent requires… spice. He flicked his fingers, and the oranges multiplied exponentially. Soon, the performer was juggling dozens of them while screaming.
"Stop! This is—too many!"
"Exactly," Adam said, grinning. Boredom requires escalation.
A dog nearby barked at Adam. He sighed. "Dog. Yes. You are alive. Congratulations. Boring. Horribly boring. But you… can be amusing." He waved a hand lazily. The dog immediately started doing a little dance, spinning in circles like a furry ballerina.
"Mom! The dog… is… dancing?!"
Yes. Dancing is far superior to mundane barking.
Adam's stomach grumbled. Food… potential entertainment. Must investigate. He approached a street vendor selling hot dogs and tacos. "One of each," he said.
"Uh… beef or chicken for the hot dog? And… taco?"
"Hot dog: interdimensional. Taco: chaotic. Make it… interesting."
Before the vendor could blink, the hot dog began singing opera and the taco sprouted tiny legs, attempting a daring escape.
"WHAT?!" the vendor shouted, flailing wildly.
Exactly.
Adam took a bite of the hot dog, which tasted faintly of cosmic boredom and minor chaos. "Delicious. Yet still… not enough."
Across the street, a man in a business suit muttered, "I need… order… rules… peace…"
Adam's lips curled into a smirk. "Ah… mortal nemesis. Obsessed with monotony, terrified of fun. Excellent. You will entertain me."
The man's briefcase opened on its own, papers flying and folding into origami swans midair. His stapler hopped onto his shoulder, chirping like a bird. "What… what is happening?!" he screamed.
Perfect.
Adam sauntered closer, hands in his pockets. "Your obsession with order… it is catastrophically boring. Allow me to assist."
He snapped his fingers. The briefcase papers began dancing in intricate choreography, and the stapler started juggling staples. The man's tie grew legs and stomped around his feet.
"Stop this! My life! My work! My—"
Yes. This is exactly the reaction I require.
Adam yawned. I am… still bored. But each mortal reaction… delightful.
A child tugged on his sleeve. "Sir… can you make my cat talk?"
Adam crouched and stared at the feline. "Of course. Provided it behaves." The cat blinked once and suddenly spoke in a deep, dramatic voice. "Finally… I am no longer constrained by the mundane!"
Excellent. A talking cat. Mild chaos. Entertainment level: adequate.
Adam sipped a glowing interdimensional coffee he had conjured from thin air. The mortal world is absurd. Mortals are fragile. Objects obey chaos. And I… am just beginning to be unbored.
From the corner of his eye, a pigeon attempted to open a tiny portal using sheer panic. Adam sighed and waved it closed. Even birds have limits. Mortals will fail to provide sufficient entertainment? I shall compensate.
A man screamed, pointing at Adam. "Help! He's doing magic! Someone call the authorities!"
Adam clapped lazily. "Yes. Call them. Let us see how they respond to minor chaos and extreme boredom."
Soon a small crowd gathered, staring, whispering, and recording on their smartphones. Adam smiled to himself. Perfect. Mortals documenting absurdity is always amusing.
He leaned back on the nearest bench. "Mortal world… surprisingly entertaining. But not enough. I require escalation."
A hot dog scuttled past on its little legs. "Run, little one," Adam whispered. Adventure solves boredom.
The walking lamppost nearby tripped over a curb. Adam chuckled. Even inanimate objects can contribute to amusement.
He stood, adjusted his coat, and scanned the city. "The mortal world… will be transformed into a playground of absurdity. One human, one object, and one talking cat at a time."
A stray dog barked, a child laughed, a business man screamed, and pigeons flapped through invisible portals. Adam grinned. This… this is just the beginning. I am Adam Thompson, the Void Vanguard, and I… am still very, very bored.