SeniorDiv

The Syntax of Reality

"Magic is not a miracle. It is a language. And you are pronouncing it wrong." I incarnated into this frail human vessel for a simple purpose: Observation. ​It was a miscalculation. ​I woke up in a dystopia where "Mages" have forgotten the true nature of power. They treat the 70 Names of the Creation like blunt instruments. They are stuck in the Circle of Concepts, drawing shapes in the dirt, unaware that the Sphere of Gods even exist. ​Now, I am trapped in a mortal body that burns calories like a furnace every time I speak a Truth. ​The Magic: While they struggle with simple shapes, I calculate with infinite precision. I don't cast spells; I define reality. ​The Progression: The world has lost the path to the Sphere of Gods. I am the only one who remembers the way back up. ​The Burden: I accidentally acquired a traumatized child soldier as my "Luggage." I keep him around solely because he is the only thing that soothes my divine headache. ​Armed with nothing but a cheap suit, a fountain pen, and a perfect understanding of the world, I am going to teach them a lesson. ​"The Universe was built on 70 Names. You only remember 69."