Date: 6/18/2001 - 9:40 PM
Location: The Decaying White Room – Mental Space
Perspective: Kaiser Everhart
The transition was instantaneous. One moment, I was enveloped in the warm, scented darkness of Cartethyia's embrace. Next, I was sitting in the hard, ergonomic chair of the White Room.
The silence was absolute.
At the front of the infinite white hall, the air distorted. Pixels of light coalesced into the severe, monochrome figure of Directive Vance. He did not look at us; he looked through us.
"Day Two," Vance announced, his voice vibrating in our skulls rather than traveling through the air.
"You have awoken. Some of you have realized that your reality has shifted. To those who found letters on their desks this morning..."
I kept my face perfectly neutral. My pulse did not jump.
"...understand that the notification was not a threat. It was a courtesy. We have informed your caretakers of your projected obsolescence. Some of you are running on borrowed time. Your worth is calculated solely by the results you provide in six days."
He adjusted his glasses. The light reflected off the lenses, hiding his eyes.
"Do not disappoint me. The incinerators are expensive to run."
With that, he shattered into white dust, fading back into the void.
A ripple of tension went through the room. I could hear the sharp intakes of breath from the children who hadn't received letters but now feared them.
I just sighed, exhaling a breath that didn't exist in the real world.
Around me, the scramble began. The other children, driven by the terror of the Directive's speech, rushed toward the manifestations of the library. They clawed for books on Advanced Mana Theory, Calculus of the Void, and Imperial History. They were desperate to cram data into their brains, believing that knowledge equaled survival.
I remained seated. I didn't move toward the books.
Raw knowledge is inefficient.
I rested my chin on my palm, my elbow digging into the white desk. I watched them panic.
Self-study was a trap for someone like me. I could memorize every spell in the library, but without the innate mana sensitivity to cast them, I was just a walking encyclopedia of things I couldn't do.
I needed a new system.
I thought back to yesterday. I had spent it reading "trash" fiction—tragedies, romances. To the system, it was a waste. But to me, it was a schematic. I had systematically deconstructed human emotion. I learned that "love" was a priority override. I learned that "grief" was a processing error caused by loss.
I had learned to simulate humanity by studying its theoretical application in stories.
If I can reverse-engineer a soul from a storybook...
I tapped my finger on the desk.
...then I can reverse-engineer genius from the students.
I didn't need to learn the subject. I needed to learn the person.
My eyes narrowed.
The logic was sound. Trying to learn magic from a book was like trying to learn to walk by reading a physics paper on friction. It was too abstract. But watching someone else walk?
Watching where they placed their feet, how they shifted their weight, where they stumbled?
That was replicable.
I wouldn't learn from the curriculum.
I would learn from the weak.
It sounded counter-intuitive. Most would look to the top. But the top was flawless.
I glanced toward the front row, squinting against the harsh light. 000001 sat there. He wasn't moving. He wasn't reading. He was just existing, and the mana in the room seemed to bend around him.
Useless.
He is a finished product. You cannot learn how to build a house by looking at a palace. You learn by watching a carpenter drive a nail.
If I targeted the geniuses, I would only see the result. If I targeted the strugglers, the ones barely scraping by, the ones fighting for every inch... I would see the process. I would see the friction. I would see the mechanics of improvement.
I would steal their small victories. I would harvest their micro-adaptations.
I will be a thief of mediocrity until I have enough scraps to build a masterpiece.
It was a parasitic philosophy. It was perfect.
I turned my head to the left.
The girl next to me—000829. She had dark circles under her eyes even in the dream. She was hunched over a thick volume of The Era of Strife.
Her hand was moving. She wasn't just reading; she was scanning. Her eyes darted in a specific 'Z' pattern across the page. Flip. Scan. Flip. Scan. She was digesting information at a rate three times faster than the standard.
She wasn't a genius.
She was panicking. But in her panic, she had optimized her input method.
Interesting.
I leaned back, watching her eyes move. I didn't look at her book.
She'll be good.
I'll start with her eyes.
I shifted my gaze to the girl on my left.
If 000001 was a statue of perfection, 000829—or whatever her number was—was a statue of efficiency.
She sat with her spine at a perfect ninety-degree angle to the chair. Her elbows were tucked in, minimizing her physical footprint. Her head barely moved, only her eyes darting across the pages of The Era of Strife.
She is a machine.
I cleared my throat. It was time to deploy the social tactics I had learned from The Duke's Forbidden Rose. In Chapter 4, the Duke initiates a conversation with the shy protagonist by offering a polite, non-threatening greeting to establish a rapport.
If it works for a fictional aristocrat, it should work for a child.
I leaned slightly toward her, careful not to encroach on her desk space.
"Excuse me," I said.
My voice sounded too loud in the quiet room.
She froze. Her hand stopped mid-flip on page 402.
Slowly, mechanically, she turned her head. Her neck moved on a swivel. Her eyes were dark, sharp, and completely devoid of interest. She didn't blink. She just stared at my forehead, waiting.
Mission failed.
The Duke received a blush.
I received a glare.
I realized then that I didn't actually know who she was. We didn't have name tags. We didn't have introductions. We were just strangers.
"I..." I hesitated, feeling the weight of her silence. "I do not know your designation."
She blinked once. It was slow, deliberate.
"000829," she replied.
Her tone was frigid. It wasn't angry; it was just... empty.
"Right," I nodded, keeping my face serious. "000829. A... solid sequence."
A solid sequence? Really, Kaiser?
She didn't respond. She just stared, her face a mask of logical bluntness. She was waiting for the point of this interaction.
The "Why?".
I needed to pivot. I gestured vaguely to the thick history book under her hand.
"You are studying history," I stated.
Brilliant observation. Trust.
"The curriculum requires it," she said. Her voice was flat. "It is a high-value subject."
"You read... fast," I tried again, pointing at her hand. "I noticed the flipping. It is... rhythmic."
She looked at her hand, then back at me. She seemed genuinely confused by the compliment.
"I acquired the information on the page," she said, her brow furrowing slightly. "Why would I stare at ink I have already processed? That would be inefficient."
"Right. Inefficient," I echoed.
"Is there a purpose to this query?" she asked. "Or are you simply emitting noise?"
I blinked.
"I was merely... comparing methodologies," I lied, keeping my expression deadpan. "Your speed is efficient. I thought perhaps you had a technique."
"The technique is reading," she said.
We stared at each other.
The silence stretched for five seconds. Ten seconds. It was a vacuum of awkwardness. Neither of us smiled. Neither of us looked away.
I narrowed my eyes slightly.
Is it quick understanding?
I watched her hand twitch, ready to turn the page again. No. She wasn't pausing to synthesize the information. She wasn't thinking about the implications of the War of Ashes. She was just... eating the text.
Perfect Memory?Eidetic recall?
If that was true, she wasn't learning; she was archiving.
"I see," I said, leaning back. "I will... let you return to the book."
"Acceptable," she replied.
"I will talk to you in a bit, 000829."
She didn't answer. She simply snapped her head back to the book. Flip. Her eyes began the 'Z' pattern scan immediately, erasing my existence from her mind to free up space for history information.
I sat there, staring at the side of her head.
She was nothing like Cartethyia.
Cartethyia was warm, messy emotions, and loud laughter. She had pouts and tickle attacks.
000829 was a calculator in a skin suit.
I rested my chin on my hand again, looking at the blank white wall ahead.
I'm cooked.
I sat in the silence.
My initial approach to this world was flawed. I had viewed people as static numbers—000001, 000829, 000981. I assumed that a higher number meant a superior being.
But the fiction I had devoured—The Feathered Heresy, The Severed Root, The Ash of Two Crowns—taught me that machines do not bleed, and they certainly do not jump off towers hoping to fly.
People are not logic gates. They are complex biological mechanisms driven by disposition.
If I treated them like simple equations, I would fail. A system derived from cold mechanics produces brittle results. It fails the aporetic test because the solution is too neat.
I needed a new framework. I needed a way to map the chaos of the human spirit onto a grid I could navigate.
My goal is not merely to understand them.
I thought, looking at the backs of the other students.
It is to manipulate them.
To manipulate, one must understand motive, not just method. I needed to identify the leverage points—the emotional weaknesses and psychological biases.
I picked up my pencil. On the blank corner of my desk, I began to draw a cross. Four lines. Four directions.
I would call this The Kaiser's Dispositional Nexus (KDN).
I would divide the sentient mind into four axes.
Axis I: Source of EnergyThe flow of attention.
I thought of myself. I sat in the back. I observed. Interaction drained me; silence fed me. Then I thought of Cartethyia. She thrived on reaction. She needed to hold me, to speak to me, to perform her "mini-spins" to feel alive.
Solitary (S): Like me. The Loner. They are reserved, self-contained. Their leverage point is Privacy.
Collective (C): Like Cartethyia. The Conduit. They seek the audience. Their leverage point is Acknowledgement.
Axis II: Perceptual MethodHow the mind trusts information.
I looked at the students around me. They were obsessively memorizing dates and formulas. They trusted the ink on the page. They were anchored. Then I thought of Ithyris from The Feathered Heresy.
He saw a bird and didn't see biology; he saw the concept of "Flight." He ignored the reality of gravity for the possibility of the sky. He was Abstract.
Anchored (A): The Fact-Binder. Focused on current realities and tangible evidence.
Abstract (B): The Pattern-Seeker. Focused on implications and future possibilities.
Axis III: Decision CalculusThe why behind the choice.
This was the bloodiest axis. I thought of Demon Lord Malphas from The Ash of Two Crowns. He sent thousands to die to secure a resource. He weighed life against land and found the land heavier.
That was Consequence.
Then I thought of Elara from The Severed Root. She married a man she hated to save the life of the man she loved. She sacrificed efficiency for a person.
That was Compassion.
Consequence (Q): The Objective Judge. Driven by logic and efficiency. Their flaw is Inefficiency.
Compassion (F): The Relational Arbiter. Driven by values and emotional impact. Their flaw is Betrayal.
Axis IV: Reactionary StyleThe approach to chaos.
I thought of the Elven Traditionalists who buried Ithyris. They needed the world to follow the "Law of Nature." They feared deviation.
They were Structured.
Then I thought of Joric, the slave who embraced Hedonism. "Eat, drink, and sin." He didn't plan for tomorrow; he rode the momentum of the moment.
He was Emergent.
Structured (R): The Planner. Prefers closure and schedules. Disruption causes them anxiety.
Emergent (E): The Improviser. Prefers flexibility and adapting to the moment. Rigid plans suffocate them.
I looked at the cross on my desk.
Four axes. Two choices per axis. Sixteen possible combinations.
16 Architectures of the soul.
I didn't need to change who I was. I just needed to identify what they were, and then become the reflection they desired.
To the Solitary, I would be silent. To the Compassionate, I would be a victim. To the Consequence-driven, I would be a tool.
I turned my head slowly to the left.
She was still reading. She hadn't moved a millimeter.
I ran the KDN scan.
Source of Energy: She had spoken only when forced. She sat alone. Her energy was internal.
Solitary (S).
Perceptual Method: She wasn't reading every word. She was scanning for the "core concepts," skipping the connecting tissue. She sought the theory, not just the fact.
Abstract (B).
Decision Calculus: When I asked about her reading speed, she didn't brag. She merely stated that staring at processed ink was "inefficient." Emotion was irrelevant to her. Consequence (Q).
Reactionary Style: Her posture was a perfect ninety degrees. Her scanning pattern was a rigid 'Z'. She feared deviation.
Structured (R).
SQBR.
I took a fresh piece of parchment from the desk's internal slot. This would not be a study guide; it would be a map of human behavior.
The four divisions I had identified—Source, Perception, Decision, and Reaction—created a perfect, interlocking grid. Four points, each with two options. Two raised to the power of four. Sixteen patterns.
I needed to label these systems of behavior.
I listed them, assigning a title to each four-letter code that defined its core purpose.
—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-
The Kaiser's Dispositional Nexus (KDN)
I categorized the 16 types into four groups based on their primary drive: Strategy, Diplomacy, Logistics, and Exploration.
I. Strategy (The Theorists)
SQBR: The Grandmaster
Meaning: Focused on long-term strategy and manipulation.
Leverage Point (Ideal Target): The Champion (CFAE)
SBAR: The Architect
Meaning: Meticulous planning and emotional suppression; operates in the shadows.
Leverage Point (Ideal Target): The Advocate (CFAR)
CQBR: The Field Marshal
Meaning: Practical, organizational structure and optimization for efficiency.
Leverage Point (Ideal Target): The Protector (SFAE)
CBAR: The Visionary
Meaning: Sees long-term patterns and focuses intensely on achieving comprehensive visions.
Leverage Point (Ideal Target): The Counselor (SFAR)
II. Diplomacy (The Relational)
SFAR: The Counselor
Meaning: Focused on relational harmony and guiding others.
Leverage Point (Ideal Target): The Visionary (CBAR)
SFAE: The Advocate
Meaning: Driven by personal values and championing causes for others.
Leverage Point (Ideal Target): The Field Marshal (CQBR)
CFAR: The Protector
Meaning: Dedicated to defending and maintaining the stability of a group.
Leverage Point (Ideal Target): The Architect (SBAR)
CFAE: The Champion
Meaning: Charismatic, inspiring, and focused on collective goals.
Leverage Point (Ideal Target): The Grandmaster (SQBR)
III. Logistics (The Pragmatists)
SAQR: The Administrator
Meaning: Efficiently organizes resources and people for immediate results.
Leverage Point (Ideal Target): The Performer (CBFE)
SAQE: The Engineer
Meaning: Practical, hands-on problem-solver focused on functional reality.
Leverage Point (Ideal Target): The Mediator (CBFR)
CAQR: The Executive
Meaning: Decisive leader focused on maximizing control and current opportunities.
Leverage Point (Ideal Target): The Guardian (SBFR)
CAQE: The Operator
Meaning: Highly attuned to sensory experiences, driving toward immediate action and impact.
Leverage Point (Ideal Target): The Explorer (SBFE)
IV. Exploration (The Dreamers)
SBFR: The Mediator
Meaning: Internal, pragmatic logic for troubleshooting and improvising solutions.
Leverage Point (Ideal Target): The Engineer (SAQE)
SBFE: The Explorer
Meaning: Views the world as an arena full of opportunities for direct, lived experience.
Leverage Point (Ideal Target): The Operator (CAQE)
CBFR: The Guardian
Meaning: Focused on the immediate present and physical reality, often impulsive.
Leverage Point (Ideal Target): The Administrator (SAQR)
CBFE: The Performer
Meaning: Naturally engaging, quick-witted, and highly reactive to social environments.
Leverage Point (Ideal Target): The Executive (CAQR)
My pencil stopped at the last entry. I tapped the parchment.
The Ideal Type.
The common flaw in human interaction is the desire for what they do not possess. An Engineer, rigid in logic, is inherently drawn to the chaotic beauty of an Explorer because it represents the freedom they are terrified to claim.
The Ideal Target for manipulation is the type that is the exact opposite of the observer, because that is the persona they seek, and that is the vulnerability they will attempt to exploit.
I looked at the top entry: SQBR. The Grandmaster.
000829.
Her system was Solitary, Abstract, Consequence-driven, and Structured. She was efficiently made of flesh.
Therefore, her subconscious ideal, the person who represented maximum utility and minimum risk, would be her precise inverse: Collective, Anchored, Compassionate, and Emergent.
CFAE. The Champion.
The one who thrives in a crowd, trusts only what they can touch, sacrifices efficiency for people, and rides the momentum of the moment.
To leverage the Grandmaster, I did not need to be smarter. I needed to present myself as the superior system of information that she, in her consequence-driven logic, could not afford to dismiss.
I needed to be the only source of the life she was missing.
I looked back at 000829. Still reading.
She operates on abstract theory to devise a single, flawless, long-term plan.
She cannot be charmed. She cannot be reasoned with using pity. She can only be manipulated by providing a superior information stream.
I placed my pencil down. The map was complete.
I understand it now.