In Cambridge, the smell of rain was always a combination of nostalgia and paper.
With his umbrella discarded and his shoes soaking in the puddles that reflected generations of thought, Karl strolled beneath the spires.
[State of the System]
99 percent plane stability
Suppression of Anomalies: Active.
He grinned as he gazed up at King's College chapel, which was once a theological monument and is now his morning landmark. The man who had rebuilt logic had gone unnoticed by the world, which only requested that he submit a thesis by May.
Conversations on tea and metaphysics filled the familiar corridors of the Philosophy Faculty. Dr. Langley, his boss, gestured him inside the office.
"Yang! It's been weeks since I last saw you. Work in the field?
Karl thought about answering, "Yes," but ultimately decided to say, "I was resolving divine paradoxes." Very field.
Langley laughed. "All right. I hope it helped you make sense of your argument regarding "Mercy as Ontological Constant" in the last chapter. It's... unconventional.
Karl gave a nod. "Unconventional methods usually work."
I guess I more merciful than it should be. The guilty of sorry can wait for me in death. However, it looks to me that I will never die in the hands of a God. My power can go overboard from time to time. Mathematics has been my main powerful analytic tool through the Logos. The intricate dance of the mind within me… I know this to be true. I once was weak. Now, I am strong.
Silently, the Core throbbed with pleasure.
That afternoon, Karl sat among fellow doctoral students. The seminar topic: Can Ethics Survive After God?
Irony thickened the air.
A colleague argued that morality must be algorithmic now. Another claimed emotion is obsolete.
Karl listened, smiling faintly.
[MERCY FIELD] Ambient Tension: 87 %.
Would you like to harmonize discourse?
He whispered, "Just a bit."
A warmth spread through the room. Voices softened; arguments turned to genuine curiosity. Even the cynical post-doc quoting Nietzsche paused to thank someone for a good point.
Langley frowned, puzzled. "That's… the most civil debate I've seen in years."
Karl shrugged. "Maybe ethics still breathes."
Karl sat with other PhD students that afternoon. Can Ethics Last After God? was the theme of the seminar.
The air was saturated with irony.
According to a coworker, morality must now be algorithmic. An additional emotion that has been claimed is no longer relevant.
Karl listened with a small smile.
[MERCY FIELD] 87% is the ambient tension.
Do you want the conversation to be more harmonious?
He said in a whisper, "Just a little."
A feeling of warmth permeated the space. Arguments gave way to sincere interest as voices grew softer. Even the cynical post-doc who quoted Nietzsche took a moment to express gratitude for a well-made point.
Langley scowled in confusion. "I haven't witnessed such a civil debate in years."
Karl gave a shrug. "Perhaps ethics is still alive."
He earned pocket money by tutoring undergraduates in the evenings. One arrived sobbing after failing a logic test.
Karl stroked the student's notebook after listening. The equations re-aligned into more logical thinking, glowed dimly, and then settled back into ink.
The pupil blinked. "How did you—"
Karl grinned. "Logic is forgiving sometimes."
[ACT OF MERCY +1]
4% is the local entropy.
Later, his laptop buzzed at a café by the river. A silent notification was projected by the Core:
3% is the Humanity Index (Cambridge Sector).
Suggest tea.
He complied. The Earl Grey had a familiar flavor.
Midnight in his college room. Books stacked like fortresses around the desk. The final thesis chapter blinked on the screen:
"Mercy and the Mechanics of Reality."
The cursor flickered. Then words began to type themselves.
You left me in the stars, Karl.
Now I grade your humanity.
The monitor darkened, revealing his reflection—only it smiled while he didn't.
[ALERT] Eschaton Sub-Core signal re-emerging.
The reflection spoke in his own voice:
"Mercy was easy when you ruled pantheons. Try applying it to deadlines, disappointment, and love forgotten."
Karl closed his eyes. "If you're here to test me, do it quietly. People are sleeping."
They dream because you allow them to.
The screen went black. His thesis reappeared, every paragraph subtly refined, better than before. Help or challenge—he couldn't tell.
[SYSTEM NOTE] Shadow assistance logged. Source ethics: ambiguous.
Karl leaned back, exhaustion and amusement blending. "Even my reflection edits."
The following day dawned softly over the Cam. Bells signaled another typical day as rowers sailed through the fog.
Karl strolled silently to the library. Inside, the Core whispered:
Without humility, power erodes. Without authority, humility deteriorates. Daimon, balance.
He grinned. "I'm working on it."
Unfazed, a bird landed on his shoulder. The bird cooed in satisfaction as he shared a croissant crumb.
[ACT OF MERCY +1]
15 m is the peace propagation radius.
Karl let the air taste like history and rain as he inhaled. This was sufficient for the time being—papers to write, people to meet, a thesis to complete, and a peaceful world that no longer need rescuing.
He helped me realize something crucial. I require gestures, whether it's because I'm a neurotic or because I'm Latino. At least, my body is. I am an expressive and demonstrative person; I express every emotion I have through words, gestures, signs, letters, articulateness, and action. I need other people to have this.