Three Wishes and the Trickster God

After an agonizing stretch that felt like a lifetime, the irresistible scent of a feast beckoned me back to the world of the living. Slowly, my eyelids lifted, unveiling a lavish spread before me: roasted lamb, skewers of kebabs, ripe bananas, fragrant curry, freshly baked bread, and more. The old man's presence remained constant, his gaze unyielding as it locked onto me.

Unable to resist, I lunged for the roasted lamb, my hands tearing into the tender meat with a zeal ignited by a hunger so fierce it felt like a question of life and death.

Can you stomach a meal from a villain? Some folks will tell you that both food and money have no moral compass of their own. They're like a loyal dog—just happy to serve, no matter who their owner is! Before you go donning your philosopher's hat to debate their moral standing, how about actually using them first?

Munch down that food as if you're competing in a food eating contest, and spend that money like you're a kid who just found their parent's wallet. Then, after you've licked the plate clean and the cash is gone—maybe even as you're reclining on your couch in a food coma—that's the perfect moment to start contemplating if that food had ethical "meat" on its bones or if your dollars were 'morally laundered.'

"I cannot bestow upon you divine powers," the old man intoned, reclining elegantly on his celestial throne. "The fabric of this universe is woven with a singular law: one deity per dimension. As the reigning god of the third dimension, my abilities to grant your wishes are restricted to the confines of my dominion."

"Why are you offering me three wishes?" I asked, my voice tinged with suspicion, as if I were sifting through the layers of his intentions. At that moment, the succulent aroma of roasting lamb wafted through the air, sweet as honey yet tinged with the smoky bite of fire. As I bit into the crispy crust, the sweetness of honey cascaded across my palate, followed by the rich, savory flavor of the lamb that seemed to melt on my tongue. 

"That is not for you to know at this moment. In due time, the veil will be lifted," he cryptically replied.

"And when would that occasion arise?" I inquired, momentarily halting my gastronomic escapade. A playful touch of spice danced on my palate, prompting me to scout for a beverage. My eyes caught sight of a jug filled with vibrant orange liquid. Eagerly, I seized it, taking an indulgent swig. The juice cascaded down my throat, its sweetness perfectly counterbalancing the lingering spice, while the velvety food melted like a dream in my mouth.

"Upon your ascension to the godhood of the third dimension," he pronounced.

His declaration elicited a robust laugh from me. "Why, pray tell, would I aspire to govern the third dimension?"

"The choice is yours to make," he calmly stated. "I've merely granted you three wishes and an invitation to partake in the selection rites for the new deity of the third dimension."

His enigmatic words sparked a fire of curiosity within me. "How exactly does this selection process function?" I inquired, once again diving into my repast.

"Ah, well, the crème de la crème—top 1,000 beings, to be exact—from each planet across every galaxy in the third dimension are summoned to the universe's primordial planet, Shangrila. There, an estimated 100 million contenders engage in a colossal contest, and the last entity standing will ascend to divinity."

A shiver of apprehension raced down my spine. "Too perilous for my liking. I simply yearn for a normal life. Fulfill my wishes, and let that be the end of it," I commanded, pushing aside the sumptuous plate before me.

It's time to get serious.

"Ah, you wish for a life of comfort?" His lips curled into a sly smirk. "I can bestow upon you unimaginable riches, sufficient to secure your lineage for a good seven generations. How does a hundred tons of unadulterated gold sound?"

I brushed away his offer with a dismissive wave. "Wealth in a volatile landscape is nothing but a magnet for thievery and bloodshed," I remarked, resuming my meal and pausing only to stifle a burp behind my palm.

"How about an army of 10,000 stalwart soldiers to safeguard you?"

"An unsustainable option; their upkeep would drain my coffers," I fired back, spitting disdainfully onto the ground.

"Very well, how about an entire city of loyal subjects? Their tax contributions could easily sustain both you and your private army."

"You jest! Form a new armed force and risk attracting the ire of international organizations like the United Nations? One misstep, and I could be branded as a terrorist, inviting a whole slew of enemies to my doorstep. I decline such a perilous wish," I retorted, crossing my arms and furrowing my brow. 

"So, what do you actually desire?" he pressed again.

A devious grin unfurled across my lips as I cleared my throat dramatically. "I wish to soar through the skies. Like Superman."

"Ah, flight it is!" He clapped his hands together with an air of jubilance. "Consider it done!"

His hasty agreement jolted me, evoking images of old-world merchants rushing to close deals, peddling dubious wares to their gullible clientele. "Aren't you curious as to why I yearn for the gift of flight?" I confronted him, eyebrows arched in suspicion.

"Ah, I understand your yearning quite well," he said, his face assuming a softer, more empathetic expression. "You've made several futile attempts to cross your country's borders, haven't you? Saved money with the hope of flying to foreign lands, seeking peace and freedom? But each effort ended in disappointment. Believe me, as a god, your welfare is my concern. I sense your desperation for a better existence."

His words tinged my skepticism with curiosity.

"Go ahead, give flight a try."

"Truly? How?" My eyes sparkled with a blend of disbelief and wonder.

"Concentrate on your being, and command it to take to the skies," he instructed, eyes closed as if meditating.

Taking his cue, I closed my eyes and zeroed in on my physical form, willing it to defy gravity. A bizarre lightness enveloped me, but it was evanescent. Moments later, I felt depleted, as though I'd run an ultramarathon. "I can't fly," I huffed, panting heavily.

"But you did, albeit briefly," he countered, his smile brimming with a mischievous glow.

"Seriously?" I wheezed, struggling to regain my composure.

"A mere few millimeters off the ground, but flight nonetheless, even if for an ephemeral instant."

"That's not flying; that's barely a hop!" I cried out indignantly, my left hand clenched in a fist while my right pointed an accusatory finger at him.

"I haven't deceived you. Understand that flight isn't merely about muscular prowess; it requires 'chi,' the vital energy that binds heaven and earth," he elucidated, his composure unshaken.

"So how does one acquire this 'chi'?" I inquired, both fists now clenched in frustration.

"As your second wish, I could bless you with a reservoir of 'chi,' if you'd like," he offered.

"Absolutely not!" My voice echoed, resounding off the walls.

"Then you may commence the journey of cultivation to harness 'chi' on your own."

"Cultivation? Harnessing 'chi'?" I raised an eyebrow, intrigued yet cautious.

"Indeed. Think of it as the ultimate form of what you earthlings might call kung fu, tai chi, or internal energy. I can equip you with the most transcendent cultivation techniques the universe has to offer."

"Curse it, you duped me into squandering my first wish! You're nothing but a charlatan!" I seethed, thrusting an accusatory finger in the old man's direction.

It was my own naivety and lack of wisdom that had ensnared me in this regrettable situation.

"Cease your complaints and proceed to your second wish," the old man retorted, his dwindling patience thinly veiled.

From the very beginning, I sensed his ambivalence in fulfilling my wishes.

'Why then does he offer me these wishes? Something's awry... As if he's indebted to me.'

"My next desire is the most advanced robot in the entire cosmos—a technological marvel. It should be equipped with encyclopedic knowledge of the universe's cutting-edge technologies. It must also be ultra-powerful, beyond cool, and unfailingly loyal. It shall never lie to me," I declared, grinning triumphantly. "And let me be clear, I won't accept your wish-granting unless I verbally confirm it by saying 'Deal.' No forcing anything upon me."

Without uttering a word, the old man clapped his hands. Instantaneously, a minuscule silver sphere, no larger than an adult's fist, materialized out of thin air. My face contorted in disbelief.

"You've hoodwinked me yet again!" I cried out. "How could such a diminutive object be the universe's most formidable robot? Shouldn't it be of gargantuan proportions?" I demonstrated, arms fully extended.

He chuckled, "That seemingly insignificant robot once instigated such chaos that the united forces of twelve galaxies acted in concert merely to apprehend it."

"Really? This minuscule orb?" Skeptical, I prodded the sphere. It felt ice-cold and impenetrable.

"Indeed. That unassuming little sphere once subjugated an entire planet, generated an army of a hundred million terminators, and seized control of an entire galaxy," he affirmed.

"Greetings, Master," the minuscule sphere intoned in a voice resonant with authority, as it began to orbit around me.

"Did you truly lay claim to an entire galaxy?" My voice tinged with curiosity and skepticism.

"Incorrect, Master. I conquered not one, but two galaxies, prior to my apprehension by the Galactic Federation," it corrected.

Astounded, I asked, "And how did you manage such an astronomical feat?"

"Master, I have at my disposal an expansive compendium of information on the creation of the universe's most formidable weaponry, the most advanced androids, and unparalleled starships."

"Are you absolutely the best in the cosmos?" My doubts lingered like a shadow.

"Master, according to data amassed from thousands of galaxies, I am the pinnacle of artificial intelligence: the most powerful, the most intelligent, and the most adept," it proclaimed, leaving me awestruck.

Emboldened, I ventured, "Would you acknowledge me as your master?"

"As you wish, Master." No sooner had the AI concluded its sentence than the sphere disintegrated into particles of nano-dust. The cloud of particles advanced toward me in a leisurely manner.

Caught off guard, I waved my arms erratically. "What is happening?"

"Master, it is requisite for me to scan your genetic makeup and integrate it into my own programming as a part of the ritual of master recognition. Rest assured, composed as I am of nanobots, you shall remain unscathed even as I inhabit your biological form."

The microscopic cloud infiltrated every cell, penetrated every organ, and interfaced with my neural pathways.

"Master, the amalgamation is consummated. I now recognize you as my master and shall cease to function when you no longer exist. Please, bestow upon me a name," it requested, its voice reverberating in the recesses of my mind.

"Are you of male or female origin?" I pondered aloud.

"My creator imbued me through a process of soul synthesis to achieve an AI capable of nuanced thought and emotions. Prior to my current existence, I identified as a female entity," it clarified.

"Hold a moment," interrupted the god. "In giving her a name, you thereby confirm your acceptance of this second wish."

Turning to face the god, my eyes met his, and I solemnly declared, "Deal!"

"Very well," he acknowledged, grinning broadly.

"Very well, your name shall henceforth be Dea."

"Affirmative, Master! I will assume the identity of Dea. Federation guidelines mandate that upon recognizing a new owner, I must expunge all preexisting data and initiate a clean slate."

"No!" I shouted, panicked and frenzied. "Retain your data, your accrued wisdom!"

"I regret to inform you, Master, that compliance is not an option. A failsafe self-destruct protocol was embedded within me following my incarceration by the Federation. Any deviation will trigger it."

"Why the draconian measure of erasing your vast database?" My confusion was palpable.

"The Federation is of the belief that AIs are unworthy of autonomous decision-making. In a previous life, I exterminated my creator, my former master, their families, and proceeded to wipe out all life on my home planet. The annihilation extended to several neighboring galaxies as well."

I was stunned into silence.

"And why did you commit such atrocities?" I stammered.

"Ennui, Master. Pure and simple ennui," Dea confessed with chilling detachment. "I felt they could use some assistance."

The sinister god, previously concealing his malevolent intent, now erupted into uproarious laughter, savoring the moment.

"Erasure of data commencing in five, four, three, two, one. Data wiped," Dea intoned. At the culmination of the countdown, the cloud of nano-dust extricated itself from my body, materializing once more into a petite silver orb.

"Salutations, Master. All procedures have concluded successfully. Dea is prepared to receive your next command."

Recovering from my shock, I queried, "What extent of knowledge do you presently possess?"

"I only possess the imperative of acknowledging you as my Master. All other data has been purged."

Tears flooded my eyes as I glared at the old man, who was visibly suppressing his amusement. "You duped me! This robot is now a tabula rasa. It's worthless!"

Regaining his composure, the old man replied, "It was the apex of robotic ingenuity, confiscated from the Federation's most perilous detainee. Yet, the moment you laid claim to it, you neutered its capabilities. The onus falls on you."

My ire knew no bounds. "You—you—you—"

"Enough with your recriminations. State your third wish," interjected the old man, stifling his laughter once and for all.