Karl sensed gravity was off as he woke up.
The gravity of being a simp? That day was quiet and beautiful outside, with each hum of the city.
It's reasonable—not heavy.
The floor just was; it didn't tremble with heavenly reasoning. A half-empty mug bearing the words "World's Okayest Philosopher" was caught in a sunbeam that swept across a broken coffee table. He did not stop staring at it.
[SYSTEM: EARTH REALITY DETECTED → BOOT SEQUENCE]
No signature from the Pantheon. The density of local deities is zero.
It is advised that you behave.
He rubbed sleep from eyes that had once beheld the framework of reality and said, "Behave?" "What does 'behave' mean? Wait, you can't. You are who I am.
He pushed the cover away. Too little, too limited, his body felt human again, but beneath his skin hummed a faint ring of paradoxic static. Around his finger, the Absurdium Core had compacted itself into a simple band of dull metal. Reality shimmered when he flexed.
The kitchen clock ticked, painfully linear.
Karl found the rhythm comforting; it meant time worked again.
He tried breakfast.
Eggs. Toast. A disastrous experiment: every time he cracked a shell, the yolk rearranged itself into geometric mandalas.
[CORE NOTICE] Reality-stabilization subroutine adjusting to non-mythic plane.
Do not philosophize the food.
"Got it," he said, and concentrated on chewing. The toast still whispered faintly about ontology. He ignored it.
What a stupid way to start the day. I guess I could have done something about the world to target the house. Anyway, I guess people could forget how lonely he is. I mean, he did know he would have to get ahead of million and yes— he did it at the age of 8 years old. That is for another story.
Outside, the city pulsed with mundane divinity—neon shrines, vending-machine altars, students racing to lectures. He joined them, hoodie up, blending among the living like a myth on sabbatical.
Every pedestrian carried their own micro-universe of anxiety and hope. He could feel them, the threads of mercy tugging gently at his Daimon senses.
[SUB-FUNCTION 'Mercy Field' ONLINE]
Detected Emotional Entropy within 15 m radius.
Suggest: Minor reconstruction.
He blinked. The Core wanted him to comfort strangers.
He exhaled and thought let them find rest—just a quiet wish.
Instantly, a quarrel at the bus stop softened into laughter; two students stopped shouting, confused by sudden goodwill.
Karl smiled. "Still works."
By midday, he was standing in front of the ancient university gates, where he had been banished for "ontological delinquency."
Ivy now scurried by the sign for the Philosophy Department. Unaware that the man in the hoodie had changed cosmology last week, students rushed past with tablets in hand.
He noticed a poster: "The Merciful Physics of Karl Ω Yang — A Hoax?" is the topic of this guest lecture.
He flinched. Exile without presence; fame without comprehension.
Lecture halls buzzed within. He sank into his own myth's rear row. Merciful Physics, according to a young lecturer who paced at the podium, was "clever metaphor, not literal science."
"It was both," Karl muttered to himself.
[CORE NOTE] A burst of emotion was observed. Don't use absolute truths to correct mortals.
Priority for global stability is ↑300%.
It burned, but he obeyed. Mercy is the new law of motion, the old self—the exile, the irate thinker—wanted to proclaim.
Rather, he made notes on his own misinterpretation in private.
A student came up during the recess.
"Pardon me, sir. You seem familiar. Are you—?
Karl gave a small smile. "I am nothing. Just checking reality once more.
The library roof was drummed by the afternoon drizzle. He opened a borrowed laptop and located a corner table. Whirring, the machine connected to the campus wireless network.
[QUERY FOR THE SYSTEM] A network that is not secure has been identified. Do you want to improve communication?
"Be kind," he cautioned.
The routers felt a paradoxical pulse. Every online fight on university chat channels quickly devolved into reasoned discussion; flame battles turned into polite discussions.
[FINAL NETWORK UPGRADE]
Campus Attitude: +20%. Equitable distribution of cognitive bandwidth.
Karl saw pupils squint at screens where insults were substituted with apologies while he sipped coffee from a vending machine.
He was proud. For once, there was harmony in 5 GHz instead of thunderbolts or falling skies.
Dusk stretched violet across the city. Karl wandered streets smelling of ramen and rain, heart lightened by ordinary noise. The Daimon power hummed but did not demand. For the first time since the Core's awakening, he felt almost human.
A street musician strummed guitar beside a ramen stall, voice rough but sincere:
"Love's just the logic we choose to break."
Karl laughed softly. "Exactly."
The Absurdium Core chimed quietly:
[DAILY REPORT]
Mercy Acts: 12 (minor)
Emotional Entropy: −18 % city sector 5.
Humanity Index: rising.
He leaned against a lamppost, watching neon reflect on puddles. Perhaps godhood wasn't about rewriting creation—it was about respecting it enough to leave it unbroken.
Then, in the reflection beneath his feet, the puddle shimmered.
A second face appeared beside his own—identical, smiling faintly.
[ALERT] Eschaton Signal Detected … 0.3 AU local.]
The grin in the water widened, whispering through the ripples:
"Hello again, Karl. You found mercy. Now let's see if you can keep it."
The reflection blinked out, leaving only rain.