I had no idea why Grimmyth went out of its way to choose me as one of its warlocks, using my humble breakfast as a tribute. Everything I said and wrote in my G-book was drawn from a well-known hypothesis that dated back to the very beginning of the Grimlock era.
According to this hypothesis, Grimmyth's tribute had to be something that truly belonged to us and with personal value, because Grimmyth was not after the object itself but the emotions bound to it. It further asserted that those emotions had to reach an exceptional level, either overwhelming in intensity or pristine in purity, for Grimmyth to respond.
The hypothesis also explained why offering a part of ourselves, such as our organs and, in particular, our senses, could succeed. The resolve and emotional struggle involved in surrendering one's own body or perception as a tribute were profound enough to meet Grimmyth's criteria. Likewise, more sentimental individuals could offer the last object that kept the memory of their deceased parents alive, or a dead spouse's clothing, still carrying a familiar scent that evoked their presence. In such cases, the emotions attached to the tribute were simply too pure to ignore. In both instances, Grimmyth was drawn to these offerings.
However, this theory never truly took hold because it attempted to explain why many people failed despite offering their organs, senses, or cherished memorabilia of loved ones as tribute to Grimmyth, claiming that their emotions were simply not intense or pure enough to attract Grimmyth's interest.
This explanation was outrageous for those who failed. This, combined with the complete lack of physical evidence, led many to dismiss the theory outright. As a result, the hypothesis never gained meaningful traction.
Earth's magical Grim-tech had also not advanced far enough to create any device capable of measuring or quantifying a person's emotions, let alone converting them into gion like Grimmyth could. Attempts were made to approximate this by measuring hormonal reactions and secretions, but the very premise was flawed. Scholars were still locked in debate over whether emotions triggered the release of hormones, or whether the secretion of those hormones was what gave rise to emotions in the first place, or was both equally true.
Crayon had read about this back when he was still in school, while his parents were still alive. I decided to use this controversial hypothesis as the foundation of my report on my contract ceremony outside of Grimmyth. After all, there was no way for anyone to prove that I was bullshitting. It offered just enough plausibility, paired with controversy, to ensure that my G-book would not only sell but remain a hot topic long enough for me to make a small fortune, all while keeping the fanatics off my back.
The first test group for my bullshit was the assembly of city leaders seated before me. If I could convince this group, then convincing the rest of the world would not be difficult. Once people believed they understood my contract ceremony, I would no longer be a panda on display, but just a regular, chubby bear, free to live my life.
"Director Hawthorne, what do you think?" City Commander Dia asked, turning to the city's Chief Research Director, whose department was responsible for all research related to Grimmyth.
They were tasked with preparing the city for Grimmyth, educating its citizens about Grimmyth, staying up to date with the latest discoveries, and briefing the Grim Raiders on the dangers and resources associated with it. In short, they were responsible for, or involved in, nearly everything connected to Grimmyth.
Which was to say that, of all the leaders present in the room, only the Chief Research Director truly had business with me. The rest were here merely to watch the show.
Director Hawthorne did not answer the City Commander immediately. Instead, he studied me for a moment before asking, "Young man, you appear to be familiar with the Emotion Hypothesis. Your G-book is clearly influenced by it. I must admit, it makes for a compelling read, turning a one-time coincidence, or a freak accident, into a false hope that keeps the masses occupied."
He then turned to the City Commander and continued, "Madam Commander, aside from his contract ceremony, there is nothing remarkable about this young man. He is simply another Grimlock. The meters and sensors installed around the Grimgate and the stations surrounding recorded an gion discharge from the Grimgate that struck this young man's breakfast. Much like how gion leaking from that dimension induced mutations in nature, it also altered his breakfast enough to tempt Grimmyth into accepting it as a tribute. He was merely in the right place at the right time."
Pausing briefly, he added, "I had hoped to learn whether he saw what his grilled corn cob and potatoes mutated into. However, after reading his G-book, I believe it all occurred so rapidly that his naked eyes failed to register what our meters and sensors clearly captured."
Listening to the Chief Research Director, I found myself far from disappointed by his assessment of my G-book. Aside from his pointed remarks, he had acknowledged that it was a good read and effective at keeping the masses engaged. That alone was enough to reassure me of its success. More importantly, he had declared that there was nothing special about me, a statement that brought a profound sense of relief.
I nodded in understanding as he spoke, especially since he produced meter and sensor readings on the conference room display to support his conclusions. I had no idea what meters and sensors he was referring to, let alone how to interpret their data. Still, the fact that they had solved the mystery of how I became a Grimlock outside of Grimmyth eased my nerves. This outcome was far preferable to me than my ending up on his operating table.
"Mmm, that makes more sense. Speaking of which, how far has the research into using gion to induce controlled mutation in flora and ores progressed?" Commander Dia enquired after agreeing with Director Hawthorne. In doing so, she made me wonder if maybe I wasn't a panda, but a black bear suffering albinism that was mistaken for a panda.
"It's still inconclusive, ma'am," Director Hawthorne replied with a sigh. "Researchers across the globe are still unable to provide a reasonable explanation for why some objects mutate upon contact with gion while others are simply destroyed. The experimental results are far too random for us to draw any definitive conclusions."
Then, eyeing me, he continued, "Madam Commander, I request that arrangements be made to keep the young man within reach and readily available. I'm certain many renowned researchers will travel here to study him. The higher-ups will demand a detailed report on this incident. Not to mention, for his safety. Under these circumstances, keeping the young man close only makes sense."
"Alright. I'll leave him in your care, then," Commander Dia said, granting her approval without even asking for my opinion.
I supposed I had no real choice in the matter, or perhaps my opinion simply was not important enough to warrant discussion. Either way, I was fine with it because, panda or albino black bear, without the city's protection, I doubt I would survive for long on my own or just end up in some trillionaire's secret collection.