They stood in a loose circle, surrounded by the endless white void. The silence stretched between them—not comfortable, but heavy. They'd shared what little they knew, pieced together fragments from the entity's cryptic responses, but the real work was just beginning.
Lily glanced between the faces of strangers who might become her lifeline. "So... what now? Do we just... coordinate? Like, how does this even work?"
Samuel's notebook was in hand despite the circumstances. "The entity mentioned contradictory wishes cancel each other out. But that's direct contradictions. What about indirect conflicts? Competing resource demands? Cascading effects?"
"Someone could wish for eternal rain while another wishes for desert like climates. They don't directly contradict, but the environmental chaos could kill more people than either wish individually." Victor added.
Maria's jaw tightened. "Then we need to think defensively. My kids are out there somewhere—" Her voice caught slightly. "They're probably terrified, maybe making panicked wishes. I can't protect them if the world collapses."
"That's assuming there's anything left to protect," Ethan said bluntly. "I mean, what's the worst case here? Someone wishes all governments disappear? All technology stops working? What if some nutter decides to turn gravity off for laughs?"
The group fell silent, the possibilities hanging in the air like toxic fog.
Walter's voice cut through the tension, measured and calm. "We can't control what others choose. We can only control ourselves. The question becomes: what do we need to do to survive whatever's coming?"
"Survival," Maria said immediately. "Physical enhancement. Mental sharpening. Combat skills. If the world goes to hell, we need to be ready for anything."
Victor nodded curtly. "Agreed. Raw capability first. Strength, speed, intelligence, reflexes—whatever gives us an edge over the unprepared masses."
"Hold on," Lily interjected, her voice rising. "Are we talking about becoming superhuman? What about everyone else? What about fairness?"
"Fairness?" Victor's laugh was harsh. "Child, eight billion people are about to remake reality. Half of them will wish for personal power, the other half will wish for others to lose theirs. Fairness isn't even a consideration now."
"That's the kind of attitude that's going to destroy everything!" Lily shot back, her cheeks flushing. "If everyone just thinks about themselves—"
"Then we'll be the only ones thinking about the bigger picture," Maria interrupted, surprising herself with the steel in her voice. "Look, I don't like it either. But I have responsibilities. People depending on me."
Samuel cleared his throat. "Perhaps we could consider wishes that serve both individual and collective needs? Enhanced capabilities, yes, but also preservation of knowledge, infrastructure—"
"Knowledge won't matter if the planet's uninhabitable," Walter said quietly. Everyone turned to him. "Even if we become capable of surviving anything, what good is it if Earth becomes uninhabitable? Someone needs to wish for some kind of stability."
Atlas, who had been listening more than speaking, finally uncrossed his arms. "You're talking about at least three wishes already. Personal enhancement, skills and knowledge, environmental protection. That's not leaving much room for individual wants."
"Good," Victor said. "Individual wants are what got us into this mess."
"Easy for you to say," Ethan growled. "You're the type who probably always gets what he wants anyway."
Victor's eyes flashed. "And you're the type who throws tantrums when life doesn't hand you everything on a silver platter."
"That's enough," Walter said firmly, his voice cutting through the rising tension. "We're not enemies here."
"Aren't we?" Samuel asked quietly. "I mean, realistically? We're strangers competing for limited wish allocation. Why should I trust any of you with decisions that affect my future?"
The question hung in the air like a challenge. Maria looked around the circle, seeing doubt and suspicion creeping into faces that had seemed cooperative moments before.
"Because the alternative is leaving it to pure chance," she said finally. "And I've seen what random chance does to families, to communities. It tears them apart."
Lily's voice was smaller now, uncertain. "But what if we get it wrong? What if our coordination makes things worse? What if we're the ones who break everything?"
"Then at least we break it together," Atlas said, his voice steady. "Look, I get it. This is mental. We're seven strangers trying to coordinate the reshaping of reality. It shouldn't work. Maybe it won't work. But I'd rather fail trying to build something than succeed at building nothing."
Samuel flipped through his notebook nervously. "The entity said ten was optimal for cooperation. We're only seven. Maybe we should have found more people—"
"No," Maria said sharply. "More people means more competing interests. Seven is manageable if we can actually agree on something."
"Big if," Victor muttered.
"So what are you proposing?" Lily asked, looking directly at Maria. "Just... enhancement and environmental protection? That's it?"
Maria took a deep breath. "Three categories. First, personal capability—physical and mental enhancement to survive whatever's coming. Second, knowledge and skills—combat, survival, strategy. Third, planetary stability—keep Earth from being destroyed by conflicting wishes."
"That's three wishes," Ethan pointed out. "Leaves four for individual priorities."
"No," Walter said, shaking his head. "If we're thinking systemically, we need more environmental safeguards. Ecosystem preservation, resource protection—otherwise we'll survive the initial chaos just to die in a wasteland."
Victor's expression tightened. "You're talking about six wishes for group priorities. That leaves one for individual needs. I didn't sign up to sacrifice everything for the collective good."
"Then leave," Maria said bluntly. "Go back to your space and make whatever selfish wish you want. But don't pretend you're committed to cooperation while undermining it."
Victor stared at her, his jaw working. For a moment, the group held its breath, waiting to see if their fragile alliance would shatter before it truly began.
"Fine," he said finally. "five wishes for group survival. But I want guarantees that the remaining wish allocations are fairly distributed, not just handed to whoever speaks loudest."
"How do we even decide who gets the personal wishes?" Samuel asked. "Draw lots? Vote? Fight to the death?"
"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Atlas said. "First, let's make sure we agree on the group priorities."
"Enhanced physical and mental capabilities," Maria ticked off on her fingers. "Survival and combat knowledge. Planetary stability. Ecosystem preservation. Resource protection." She paused. "That's five. What's the sixth?"
The group exchanged glances. In the silence, Atlas felt the weight of their expectations settling on him. He'd brought them together, made the initial pitch for cooperation. They were looking to him for leadership, whether he wanted it or not.
"I've been thinking about this since the beginning," he said slowly. "About what kind of world we're walking into, what kind of person I need to be to survive it." He met each of their eyes in turn. "I think we need something more... adaptive."
"Meaning?" Victor prompted.
Atlas felt heat crawl up his neck, knowing how insane this would sound. "I'm going to become something that can literally adapt to anything. Consume resources, reshape myself, survive conditions that would kill a normal human." He paused, gathering his courage. "I'm going to become a slime."
The silence that followed was deafening.
"A slime," Lily repeated slowly. "Like... a blob?"
"Like a creature that can absorb and adapt," Atlas corrected. "Think about it—if the world becomes toxic, I can filter it. If resources are scarce, I can break down anything organic. If we need tools or weapons, I can create them. It's the ultimate survival adaptation."
"It's insane," Samuel breathed, but there was fascination in his voice. "Completely abandoning human form for theoretical advantages..."
"Theoretical?" Atlas's voice carried a note of desperation now. "Look around us. We're in a white void talking to cosmic entities about rewriting reality. Theoretical stopped mattering the moment this started."
Walter studied him with those patient, measuring eyes. "You've thought this through. The implications, the sacrifices. You're willing to give up your humanity for survival."
"I'm willing to change what humanity means," Atlas said. "Maybe that's what we all need to do."
Maria was quiet for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "Six wishes. Personal enhancement, knowledge and skills, planetary stability, ecosystem preservation, resource protection, and..." She looked at Atlas. "Adaptive transformation."