Maruki scrolled through the thread, his eyes scanning each line of text with a growing intensity. His expression remained carefully neutral, but his mind churned, the implications unfurling like smoke tendrils in a darkened room.
Rumors become reality... a cognitive world where perception shapes truth. Even the most outlandish notions can be made real, given enough belief...
The cigarette between his fingers smoldered, a faint ember glowing against the backdrop of his dimly lit quarters. His gaze flicked to the glowing screen, the words practically etched into his mind. Sumaru City... the power of rumors... weaponizing collective cognition. It was an academic quandary on the surface, yet beneath it lay something far more primal. An opportunity.
His hand trembled ever so slightly as he brought the cigarette to his lips, inhaling deeply. The smoke filled his lungs, the acrid burn grounding him even as his thoughts strayed to places he tried so desperately to keep buried.
Rumi...
His vision blurred, and for a fleeting instant, he was back in that suffocating room. The echo of his fist slamming onto Igor’s desk reverberated in his ears, the words “She’s not real” cutting through him like glass. The crumpled papers, the glow of denial, the mocking smile that had haunted him ever since—it all came rushing back, raw and vivid.
The memory twisted in his mind as his gaze returned to the thread. A plan began to take shape, half-formed yet persistent. Maruki leaned back in his chair, exhaling a stream of smoke that curled upward, dissolving into the shadows above. His lips curved into a small, almost imperceptible smile—not one of mirth, but something colder. Calculated.
His thoughts coiled inward, circling around the possibilities. If rumors could shape reality, if the collective will of others could manifest truths... then perhaps this cursed place had given him a tool he never anticipated. A way to level the playing field. A way to finally grasp what had always been out of reach.
The cigarette burned lower as the room filled with a faint haze. Maruki’s eyes remained fixed on the screen, his expression unreadable. He didn’t move, didn’t speak. He simply sat there, his mind a roiling storm behind that calm exterior.
Outside the room, the soft hum of the facility continued unabated, oblivious to the gears now turning in the doctor's head.
reacting on 1st week of january
Rumors become reality... a cognitive world where perception shapes truth. Even the most outlandish notions can be made real, given enough belief...
The cigarette between his fingers smoldered, a faint ember glowing against the backdrop of his dimly lit quarters. His gaze flicked to the glowing screen, the words practically etched into his mind. Sumaru City... the power of rumors... weaponizing collective cognition. It was an academic quandary on the surface, yet beneath it lay something far more primal. An opportunity.
His hand trembled ever so slightly as he brought the cigarette to his lips, inhaling deeply. The smoke filled his lungs, the acrid burn grounding him even as his thoughts strayed to places he tried so desperately to keep buried.
Rumi...
His vision blurred, and for a fleeting instant, he was back in that suffocating room. The echo of his fist slamming onto Igor’s desk reverberated in his ears, the words “She’s not real” cutting through him like glass. The crumpled papers, the glow of denial, the mocking smile that had haunted him ever since—it all came rushing back, raw and vivid.
The memory twisted in his mind as his gaze returned to the thread. A plan began to take shape, half-formed yet persistent. Maruki leaned back in his chair, exhaling a stream of smoke that curled upward, dissolving into the shadows above. His lips curved into a small, almost imperceptible smile—not one of mirth, but something colder. Calculated.
His thoughts coiled inward, circling around the possibilities. If rumors could shape reality, if the collective will of others could manifest truths... then perhaps this cursed place had given him a tool he never anticipated. A way to level the playing field. A way to finally grasp what had always been out of reach.
The cigarette burned lower as the room filled with a faint haze. Maruki’s eyes remained fixed on the screen, his expression unreadable. He didn’t move, didn’t speak. He simply sat there, his mind a roiling storm behind that calm exterior.
Outside the room, the soft hum of the facility continued unabated, oblivious to the gears now turning in the doctor's head.