Cardopolis

"Under my watchful eye the laws of nature take their course. Thus is the world set in motion; thus the animate and the inanimate are created." - Bhagavad Gita 9:10

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Scott waved his arms again. The environment shifted at a speed impossible to follow with the naked eye. The two of them moved so quickly and yet Alex couldn't feel a thing. When the warp drive settled down, he finally gained a clear picture of their new surroundings.

They were still up in the sky, but they were no longer looking down upon a humongous forest.

Below stood a boundless civilized city stretching to the horizon. Buildings towered into the heavens in various architectural styles. There were classical skyscrapers in the style of Manhattan, domed stadiums and cathedrals, as well as intricate designs Alex had never seen before.

Humans could be found in every corner going about their daily tasks: working, socializing, caring for their families and neighbors, living complex lives.

"This is your world's noble civilization, Sir."

It was a sight a God should have been proud of. There was just one problem.

...

...

...

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"NOBLE MY ASS! WHY THE HELL IS IT THIS?!?"

Every building, no, every "brick" that existed in this city, was composed...of cards.

...

Yes, that style of cards...as in playing cards...as in basketball cards...as in Pokemon cards...as in--

"Where are my griffins?!? Where are my spaceships?!? Scott!"

Scott wanted to cry but had no tears. It was his first day on the job and he was already being bullied and treated unjustly by his new boss. There would be no one saving him. Alex's HR department's office was located between a rock and eat sh*t.

"It's like this, Sir. If one does not consciously train their mind to mold their inner world from a young age, it naturally develops in the direction of their ideal vision of a world. This effect is most notable during the early stages of a world's development, while the chosen is in his youth. It would seem that this is the perfect world you envisioned at that time..." Scott held his breath.

"So you're saying...that because I collected sports cards...in grade school...that now...MY INNER WORLD IS THIS PAPER TRASH?!? Alex was furious.

"...That would appear to be the case, Sir."

...

A long time later.

Sigh... 'Yesterday, my 'inner world' consisted of web novels and youtube videos of people getting injured. I suppose even this is an improvement.' Alex tried to see the bright side.

He looked around at all of the busy people. This was his world. These were his subjects now. They depended on his care and protection.

'I need to make them work.' Alex believed that a prosperous society develops best through strict management of labor efficiency.

A thought suddenly occurred to him and his eyes narrowed. "Are there chosen ones here?"

"No Sir. A world must possess a minimum energy level in order to meet the conditions for the creation of chosen ones and their inner worlds. The inner worlds of the chosen ones from Earth, including yourself, do not meet this requirement."

Alex was relieved. These were his Sims characters. He wouldn't be satisfied if he couldn't choose their settings.

He looked out onto his land, extended out his arm, and said, "I dub thee...Cardopolis."

*Cough* "Sir..."

"Yes?"

"The citizens have already had a name for this world for thousands of years."

"Oh, what's it called?"

"...Super Fun Happy World."

...

'Of course. Of course it is. They probably pulled it out of my brain when I was 7.' Alex's face had more black lines than a crying goth girl. "Tell them to change it."

"...Yes sir." Scott felt like a middle manager forced to tell all the staff that they were fired.

Just like that, thousands of years of cultural history had disappeared.

"I've been meaning to ask you, where do chosen ones come from?" Alex asked.

"I will explain, Sir. Originally, the first humans were created from the energy of the world itself."

"Was it the chicken or the egg?"

"...I do not know how to answer that, Lord."

"Find the answer for me. Continue." This boss was already setting impossible demands.

"Among the original humans, the first 9 were special. They received the largest blessings in energy, allowing them to construct their inner worlds and become the first chosen ones. The 9 proliferated until the present day, forming the 9 ancient families, and the current chosen ones are their descendants."

"If they've had so many years to mash, how come there are only hundreds of chosen ones?"

"Sir, not every descendant awakens. As the blood grows thinner, the qualifications decrease and the chance of awakening goes down."

"These ancient families sound pretty great. I don't remember having a silver spoon in my mouth. How exactly is it that I'm a chosen one?"

"This...I am not completely clear myself, Sir. Did you...know your parents?"

"...No." Alex was indeed an orphan, he had no information about his parents.

'Is this the classic given up for adoption by a great ancient clan setup?' Alex was visualizing his epic reemergence into the lost clan, followed by face slapping the estranged relatives that came out to cause trouble.

"The issue surely lies there, Lord. In fact, this is quite curious as the ancient clans always take extreme measures to prevent the emergence of rogue chosen ones. Historically, if someone tried to leave a family, they would hunt that chosen down. The abandonment of a child in peculiar circumstances, however, is quite possible."

"Alright. Tell me more about these ancient families."

"Very well, Sir. You may have heard them referred to collectively as...the Illuminati."