Chapter 75

Chapter 75

From Cosmic Rascal to Professor.

Episode 75: The Guy Writing A Thesis In Prison (2).

One week into my incarceration at Alcatraz.

This place feels more like a detention center than a traditional prison; there’s no morning roll call, just robots patrolling the halls. They identify who’s present, who’s missing, and who has lost their grip on reality. The missing are hunted down, and the unstable receive a harsh form of intervention. After watching for a few days, I realized the guards’ method in their madness: a few sharp blows seemed to snap the crazed momentarily back to sanity. It was a brutal kind of physical therapy.

“Inmate number 888888, in the room. Status?”

“Perfectly fine.”

“Status, normal.”

A dome-shaped robot hummed by, its sensors flickering.

Gradually, the guards would unlock the doors for those of us deemed stable. Our daily regimen began with a grueling physical challenge.

“A healthy mind resides in a healthy body. Everyone, 50 laps around the field, go!”

“Fifty laps is excessive!”

“Do you want to reintegrate into society or not?”

The guards, acting as merciless coaches, cracked their whips at the slowest runners. We had no option but to sprint as though our lives depended on it, stomachs growling with hunger.

Amidst the exhaustion, one inmate sprinted past, her pace unrelenting, driven by an unseen force.

“Who the hell is that girl?”

She was the one imprisoned in the room next to mine, appearing to be about my age, with perpetual dark circles under her eyes. Despite her frail appearance, she possessed an incredible stamina that belied her delicate looks. Beyond her worn-out demeanor, there was an undeniable beauty that seemed to draw the attention of many.

“Wow, look at her chest bouncing.”

“I wish I could touch it just once.”

Their comments were driven by lust, not admiration.

“…Perverted bastards.”

She clicked her tongue and furrowed her brows, exuding the vibe of someone who combined Rustila’s endurance with Zelnya’s fiery spirit. She was the first to complete 50 laps, letting out a sigh as her black hair cascaded over her shoulders. I came in second, trailing behind her. After nearly a year of basic training, such runs had become routine for me.

“I, I want to stop.”

“Do you want to go back to society? With that kind of will, you’ll be devoured by the Outer Gods again. If you understand, run faster!”

The screams of those who failed to meet their quotas filled the air as the girl and I, unaffected, made our way to the cafeteria ahead of the others.

In the cafeteria, there was a clear division between those affected by the Darwin Outer Gods and those influenced by others. The Darwinians, a group of tardigrades composed of organic matter, focused their efforts on biochemistry, which included spreading food poisoning or causing epidemics.

I hadn’t noticed the girl until I picked up my tray and sat down. A suspicion crept into my mind that she might be under the influence of a Darwin Legion Outer God.

“Ah.”

Clatter.

A man who had been contentedly slurping his soup suddenly went berserk.

“No way, could an Outer God be here too? If they are, will we all die? Maybe. We need to get out fast. Escape, run, I hear voices, ah. Ah.”

“You there!”

“Aah.”

“This won’t do. Drag him over here immediately.”

“No, I don’t want to die. Help me! Aaaah!”

The once lively atmosphere of the cafeteria dimmed once more. I silently tore into my bread. It was unbelievably tough. Even a cutting board would have been more palatable. Damn it, I found myself longing for Sonia’s cooking. When was the last time I savored a warm croissant slathered with butter and sugar?

“If you want, I can mess with the brains of the chefs here.”

No, thanks. That’s crossing a line, no matter the circumstance. When an Outer God makes an offer like that, it’s wise to ignore it. Their favors always come with strings attached.

“Aaaah!”

A scream pierced the air from another table. I glanced up, balancing a tray in my hands, and I saw a young man, battered and bruised, being hauled away by a guard.

“Damn it. Why the hell are they messing with us? We’re victims too!”

I had no desire to linger over post-meal conversations, so I was the first to leave the table. As I walked away, the unsettling sound of groans echoed behind me.

I needed to create a graviton bomb. Yet, all I could engage in were thought experiments. Despite the capabilities of ‘thought acceleration’ and ‘parallel thinking’, fully grasping the physical laws governing the system remained elusive. What I desperately needed was something as simple as a pen.

After eating, I went to the Holy Spirit Chamber to pray. Here, if a strong Constellation descends, it can drive out the Outer God, allowing us to leave this place immediately, making it an inmate’s real hope.

However, Outer Gods are very territorial and will try to expel any Constellation attempting to enter. Though rare, if a Constellation is already present, it could infect it and, in severe cases, be raped until its lifespan ends in the void space. This isn’t a metaphor; it actually happens.

“Is there anyone with a descended Constellation?”

“No, there isn’t.”

“Then, please proceed to the video therapy room.”

Beyond the sanctuary was the Video Room, essentially a space for mental conditioning. The room’s setup varied slightly depending on the type of possessing Outer God one was dealing with—Maxwell with Maxwell, Darwin with Darwin. Since it was my first visit, I needed to inform the inspector about the nature of the Outer God possessing me.

“Which Outer God are you affiliated with?”

“Laplace Legion.”

I answered calmly, testing their detection capabilities with a fabricated response.

“Our tests didn’t pick up anything.”

“…”

“Guard!”

Subsequently, I was subjected to a harsh beating, reminiscent of the dog days of summer, before being escorted to a Descartes-type Video Room. Despite the intense pain, I harbored no regrets; my curiosity about their system’s efficacy had been satisfied.

The room was equipped with a full-screen TV that sprang to life as soon as I entered.

Rattle, click!

Descartes’ Outer Gods directly manipulate the minds of the possessed and those around them. Therefore, individuals under their control must always learn to never lose their sense of ‘self.’

Common knowledge. Boring. My mind wandered off as the video droned on.

Now, tell me. Who are you?

“Ah.”

Ah-

“I want to write a thesis.”

I want to write a thesis-

“…?”

Was this device actually responding to me?

Bang!

The door burst open.

“This guy is completely insane. Come here!”

“Ack! Ouch!”

Despite my innocence, I found myself on the receiving end of a beating. The afternoon passed with more of the same: dinner followed by “discipline” to toughen me up. Aside from the beatings, the routine was bearable, even the nightly howls from the animal cubs had become background noise.

Is there anything that makes you uncomfortable?

Just before bedtime, the same robot I had seen in the morning approached with its inquiry. It seemed like a chance to voice any complaints or suggestions for improvements. The smell of the musty blanket made me grimace as I replied.

“Change the blanket. The sheet and the pillow, too.”

My request was polite, but the robot’s response was unexpectedly rude.

Go screw yourself.

“What?”

Bzzt bzzt.

The robot shook its head and trundled off to the next compartment. I stood there, baffled by its reply.

“Did it suffer a DDoS attack or something?”

Curious, I listened as it interacted with the next occupant. I pressed my ear against the wall, catching snippets of the conversation.

Yes, honey, come here.

The robot’s blunt reply of “fuck off” was echoed immediately by the man in the next room. I pulled away, wiped my face, and lay back down on the bed.

Tap!

Minutes later, the echo of guards’ footsteps approached, heading into the adjacent cell. To my right, the anguished cries of a man. To my left the constant babble of a girl, the one who had caught the attention of every man during the morning run.

I reclined on the bed once more.

The ‘God of wisdom and curiosity’ is bored.

“Kid, let’s play a word chain game. Start with ‘Apple.'”

Orchard.

“Monkey.”

Iridium.

“Doomsday.”

That word doesn’t exist. Where did you get that from?

“It exists in my world. Just continue, it ended with ‘y’.”

Ytterbium.

“I don’t want to play word chains with you anymore.”

Even Cartesia, who seemed to have nothing better to do, had reneged on her initial enthusiasm and was now here with me. This situation was only possible because my Pron levels are infinite. Normally, after a brief interaction with an Outer God, my Pron levels would skyrocket by the hundreds.

You are a monster, too.

Suddenly, I remembered something Vega had mentioned. At the time, I hadn’t given it much thought and had drifted off to sleep.

In my dream, I found myself in the familiar space where I met Cartesia. Over the past week, I had been accessing this imaginary realm through my dreams, taking several opportunities to engage with Cartesia in her true form.

“The ether concentration here is too dense. It’s becoming increasingly difficult to bestow Pron and observe you,” she had said.

Since arriving on this planet, Cartesia’s powers had noticeably weakened. As a result, her usually steadfast demeanor had begun to wane.

“If something intriguing were to occur, perhaps I could regain some vigor.”

Cartesia, the God of Wisdom and Curiosity, drew strength from the accumulation of knowledge and the satisfaction of her curiosity. A lack of intellectually stimulating situations was detrimental to her.

What was I to do? Although Cartesia was an Outer God, living with her for the past few months had been rather mundane, almost like being in a quasi-constellation. Suppose it had been Populus or another entity influencing my mind. In that case, they might have compelled me to undertake horrific quests, such as harming a friend or betraying a family member.

If Cartesia were to succumb to the ether in this prison and depart, it would pose a significant problem. I would lose abilities like ‘accelerated thinking,’ ‘parallel thinking,’ and ‘future vision.’ More importantly, there would be no assurance of securing another constellation’s protection once I was free.

“Alright, let’s try something.”

Resolved, I fell into a deep sleep. Starting the next day, I began to stealthily follow the guards and listen in on their conversations.

“Oh, come on. Do you know how long it takes to submit a report to the higher-ups?”

“Is it really that complicated?”

“Don’t even start. The calculations have to be perfect, and the word choice needs to be as precise as if scholars were crafting a thesis. Managing these lunatics is tough enough; add that to the mix, and it’s a real ordeal.”

Ah, I thought, that gives me something to work with for now.