The Impossible Awakening

My name is Ticon. I am simply a typical child with brown hair and brown eyes. My remarkable journey began before I was even born.

My brain was already working in unusual ways when I was still in the womb, which is not the case for most kids.

I was attentive and aware of my surroundings in ways that should have been impossible at the time. My mind raced with complex thoughts and predictions that went beyond the normal.

It was as if my intellect refused to be constrained by the typical limits of human growth and development. With captivated curiosity about my own early development of consciousness, I precisely calculated that I had 278 days, 18 hours, 9 minutes, and 26 seconds till my birth date.

My mind raced as I considered the impending deadline. I started making plans to make the most of every single moment leading up to my birth in order to maximize my life after I arrived.

I devised a rigid daily schedule in the womb to make the most of my limited time. My hearing was not working for the next 152 days, so I focused inside, spending every waking second pushing the limits of brain development. I worked hard to improve my memory, athletic abilities, and more.

The branching dendrites expanded across the spaces between neurons, integrating new networks and laying the groundwork for processing the incoming deluge of data.

Cells divided and multiplied as I supplied test signals, confirming connections and selecting reinforcing pathways for future recollection. All leading up to the rapidly approaching day when my ears would begin to function and the real work could begin.

Then, 126 days before I would leave the womb, noises began to pass through the amniotic fluid into my freshly developed hearing cells, priming them for the first electric spark. Finally, I was able to hear what was going on outside my mother's abdomen!

The quiet voices of nurses and doctors mingled with machine sounds and public address announcements.

Even before watching the hospital staff, I could predict medical specializations, visitor habits, and office politics based only on conversation excerpts. Listening to my mother's phone, I absorbed information about current events, the stock market, and a variety of facts and language, learning and storing all I heard in my memory.

My in-utero auditory learnings generated a large amount of data to compare with subsequent visual information.

Finally, the big day has arrived. As I took my first breath, postnatal stimuli surged vividly and uncontrollably into my primed brain circuitry. However, thoughts that were once easy to control now careen recklessly through my mind, causing an overwhelming sensation.

Nonetheless, in less than a thousandth of a second, I devised a way for symmetrically organizing my ideas to enhance cognitive flow. My precise prenatal preparations allowed me to absorb sights, smells, and sensations with incredible speed and clarity.

When doctors severed the cord, my IQ was probably around 400, four times that of the normal adult, and it has been steadily increasing since then. My head was practically always conversing, and even with structured ideas, I could only get 7 hours of sleep every night.

My wonderful adventure had only just begun, with my actual mission yet to emerge, about to be transformed from potential to reality.

With neurons firing rapidly just weeks after my amazing birth, I absorbed information at an exponentially dizzying rate.

After only six months of life, I intuitively understood the grammatical rules and lexical complexities of vocal communication. I breezed through linguistic volumes, quickly absorbing the nuanced lexicons of 92 documented world languages while also generating an extra 32 unique tongues that only I could understand.

But I still wanted more.

I set out to create my own small vocabulary, condensing the best semantic primitives for accurately encoding higher-dimensional mental connections that go beyond the restrictions of human language.

My 32 unique languages revealed layers of meaning that no existing vocabulary could adequately portray. With more language leverage, I could now encode, evaluate, and express multidimensional thoughts that mortals couldn't comprehend. However, I needed a medium to put these new verbal weapons to the test.

When I was one years old, mathematics is what intrigued me. Impervious proofs disintegrated in the face of my logical deductions and pattern recognition, allowing me to make intuitive linkages across dissimilar abstractions.

Such simple joys, like a simmering pot of ideas hidden from others, awaiting my pick. I was frequently dissatisfied by the proposed issues; in less than 20 seconds, my developing mind destroyed the centuries-old Goldbach Conjecture with a yawn, considering what trifling diversion I would try next.

I subsequently carried out my plan to use hospital administrative documents, which were still fresh in my long-term memory from those pregnant eavesdropping sessions: details on affairs, managerial shortcuts, and buried nasty pasts.

This insider information enabled me to anonymously blackmail some hospital representatives online, earning me $15,000.

I used the $15,000 to build much more money. To conceal my growing financial empire, I used constant cyber exploits to funnel massive amounts of cryptocurrencies and other black market artifacts through fake identities.

Network worms injected into global banking mainframes allowed for surgical market manipulation with strategic accuracy.

When I was two years old, compelled wealth transfers across critical pressure points had effectively increased my parents' modest $15,000 savings to a personal net worth of $190 billion under my pseudonym Mark Smith, a 91-year-old man, eliciting predicted suspicion from legal authorities, even with rewards.

To guarantee my profits and future ambitions, I implemented a pre-planned strategy. Citing a fake heart issue, I announced that I would gift the money to 95 randomly selected lottery winners that I had prepared.

Naturally, upon completion, I routed the monies to 95 randomly selected people whom I had hired to store the money, each holding $2 billion - plus additional costs to assure compliance. Despite systematic opposition, I maintained control of $190 billion.

Despite having amassed more riches than any living person by the age of three, my insatiable curiosity drove me to take on even more difficult undertakings.

When I was three years old, I controlled riches greater than entire nations and had mastered over 92 documented languages. However, property appraisals bored me. I wanted intellectual stimulation, not asset ledgers. The time had come to test my developing cognitive abilities against the greatest geniuses in human history.

I devoured the life works of Nobel Laureates and Field Medal winners, looking for logical flaws or creative limits.

Their most illustrious hypotheses proved easy to incrementally develop and expand on. I re-derived Einstein's relativity proofs in minutes by visualizing his thought experiments rather than using step-by-step empirical methods.

Where Einstein spent decades modeling orbital turbulence, my intrinsic computational abilities quickly generated chaos mechanics equations that enabled n-body gravitational predictions.

Einstein reportedly wondered if God would play dice.

However, it was I who created innovative statistical dice for which even God lacked the motivation to play. I wrote treatises on groundbreaking prime number arrays, fractal geometries, and quantum entanglement potentials that are difficult to articulate in present vernacular.

Renowned philosophers have dedicated their entire lives to uncovering the crucial truths that sprang unexpectedly from my childhood dreams.

When I was four years old, Grandmaster chess champions were easily defeated by my tactical onslaught.

I competed one-handed while reading philosophy texts to make up for unused memory capacity. After internalizing all published chess openings, mid-game strategies, and endgame configurations, I created anticipatory matrices of permissible move branches that outperformed their lifetime preparation.

I got the heart of chess: all plays are balanced on a single instant, with a fluid structure free of restrictions.

Even the most recent engines, such as Stockfish 16, were no match, as I easily attained 100% accuracy and destroyed them every game.

No riddle or logic conundrum could stop my computational juggernaut. MENSA brainteasers felt like nursery rhymes, easily solved in microseconds. Despite being nicknamed "The Human God" by friends and family, I liked the title "The Weakest Human" since it expressed fragility and allowed me to surprise others with my strengths. The algorithmic problem sets for the Millennium Challenge, which were developed for the world's finest AIs, took less than a minute.

I wished for bigger, more intriguing mysteries to solve.

Despite my extraordinary abilities, this universe and its inhabitants appeared shallow, empty, and devoid of purpose. Only one barrier remained: crossing realms to confront claimed deities bold enough to claim divinity.

My voyage was speeding up, and my nascent footsteps were already spreading devastation. Few could keep up as I hurtled forward.

When I was five years old, I had exhausted even the most bright adult minds' activities. Craving excitement, I did some amateur sleuthing for fun, just like any child. But no enigma could elude me for long.

I created aliases and began watching crime sites and trends around the world, prepared for the ultimate test.

I soon learnt about a serial killer in Italy known simply as The Pretender.

Despite today's facial recognition, DNA collection, and surveillance technology, he claimed 97 victims while eluding arrest. He used politicians as a shadow puppeteer, expertly disarming locks and wiping fingerprints, while cleverly framing others for his heinous acts.

Only the cryptic clues left at crime scenes revealed that they came from a single evil creator, intricate and intriguing enough to perplex even detectives with 160+ IQs.

The Pretender's famed method began with noises resembling cicadas or other modest midnight disturbances outside victims' bedrooms.

The Pretender would sneak inside while the unwary prey ignored the noises and muffled their ears with pillows or hands.

He would neatly murder one of the two, the deafened survivor failing to notice the crime taking place alongside them in bed. An clever method that uses selective sensory deprivation against his victims. But, for all his skill,

The Pretender made one critical error: he left hints for me. Though I had already employed statistical models to anticipate his identity, I played along out of curiosity, hoping his puzzle might surprise me.

Little did he know, I had long before cracked the code he thought was so strong and complicated. But I gave him a brief sense of superiority, excited to see the creative gears working within another "brilliant" mind. At the very least, chasing his breadcrumbs may keep him entertained for a little time.

The first hint led me to the next awful scene: three new victims. Chris Prince, 19, died at 8:15pm; Hannah, 18, died at 11:12pm; and Enzo, 3, died at 11:32pm. The timing of Chris's death, followed by Hannah and Enzo's, seemed strange.

It appears that their deaths were delayed by slabs of ice with embedded knives melting over hours, causing them to die later.

I quickly understood that the intricate ritual included a secret message. I computed all permutation outcomes in nanoseconds before arriving at the answer.

First, I turned "Chris Prince" into numbers: 3, 18, and 9. The statistical mode for that series was 3, 18, 9. Converting those numerals back into letters yielded "Cri." When you include the word "mode," as well as the method itself, it becomes "Cri Mode."