Max woke up feeling an appalling exhaustion, as if his mind had been squeezed and released by a black hole. Yet, a vibrating vitality, an energy he had never felt before, was stirring in every cell of his body. His first action was to look in the mirror. The thin, vein-like purple glimmers around his eyes—the lasting signature of T500's energy—would not disappear no matter how much he rubbed them.
"Great," Max muttered nervously. "Now I'm a tired, cosmically interesting, and possibly radioactive call center employee."
• T500 (inside his head, echoing and mocking): Radioactive? Please. My power is far more elegant than those primitive nuclear reactions, host. Show some respect. Besides, the purple hue's contrast with your skin is quite stylish by universal standards.
Max instantly bristled at T500's instantaneous presence. His mind was now a cinema hall constantly jammed between his own thoughts and T500's narcissistic commentary. Max's slightest internal thought was high-volume broadcast for T500.
Reaching for his cereal bowls in the kitchen cupboard, Max focused on his immediate need. He wanted the coffee cup, which was out of reach, to float towards him using telekinesis. T500 registered Max's desire as a command.
The result of Max's wish colliding with T500's power was chaos. The cup hurled itself from the counter, but instead of gliding to his hand, it executed three perfect flips in the air before landing flawlessly on top of the refrigerator.
• Max (panicked, internally): What just happened? It's on the fridge! I didn't put it there!
• T500: Flawless targeting, wasn't it? Don't you see? We have power! Why don't we throw that old cake pan on the fridge into the air? The mere existence of that crude metal object is an insult to the cosmos.
Max frantically waved his hand, and this time, the cup bounced off the fridge, hit the ceiling, and shattered into a thousand pieces on the floor. Cold sweat beaded on Max's forehead.
• T500: Oh! The destruction of delicate craftsmanship is so... typically human. Focus your mind, Max! Or just yield control to me, and I shall handle it. I can save you from this minor clutter.
As Max started to clean up, a thin, blue energy burst from his fingertips, instantly reducing the scattered glass shards to microscopic dust. The problem was solved, but a round, slightly burnt stain remained on the floor. Max realized these abilities weren't just T500's power; they were a chaotic system run by an obnoxious cosmic roommate.
The Crisis on the Commute and Social Chaos
Stressed about being late for work, Max rushed to the bus stop. As he walked, he felt a cold, metallic tension beneath his back muscles; his body was constantly straining to adapt to T500's energy.
While waiting at the stop, the man next to him was shouting into his phone, "By what logic did you send this order to the wrong address?!" Max, strained by the morning's exhaustion, stress, and T500's incessant nagging, reached his breaking point.
Frantically and desperately, Max thought, "I wish he would be silent! Stop that meaningless noise!" T500 recorded Max's emotional outburst as a universal command.
• T500: Order received. Noise suppression initiated. Human communication is mostly redundant. Regular silence.
An uncontrolled electromagnetic pulse emanated from Max, hitting every electronic device at the stop. The man next to him's phone died with a crackle. Within five seconds, everyone at the stop realized their smartphones, tablets, and even digital watches had abruptly gone silent. The approaching bus sputtered, stalled, and stopped.
• Max: T500, what did you do?! You shut down everything!
• T500: I merely ensured efficiency. The noise ceased. Also, buses pollute the environment. Let us walk. I would suggest we fly, but you lack the necessary enthusiasm. Boring.
Max watched the crowd, which was swelling with silent frustration and confusion. People were shaking their phones, looking at each other, murmuring, "Is it another cyberattack?" No one blamed him; no one noticed him. They simply assumed technology had failed again.
In that moment, Max realized with horror: T500's powers were not just about moving objects. This was an uncontrolled cosmic weapon, and at any moment, it could plunge his life, and potentially the world around him, into chaos—and the narcissistic entity in his head was thoroughly enjoying it. Max's life had become a tragicomic struggle for survival.