"People ask which came first between the chicken and the egg. There is quite a huge debate on it, even now. In my opinion, however, it is a futile thing. The answer is… neither."
With a snap of a finger, a holographic screen appeared beside Sylvain. With a single hand, he began interfacing with it, checking its settings briefly before writing on it. It was a simple illustration really. Just two numbers, one and zero. It was not the number ten, but rather binary. He looked back to his students, checking to see if they understood what he meant by them. A few sharp ones quickly realised the representation and helped those who were still wondering why their Professor suddenly wrote down a number. With a nod, Sylvain continued.
"People seem to think that one must come before the other, but should that truly be the case? It is a looping cycle much like life and death are. A man is born and grows by eating plants and animals only to die and serve as nutrition for plants and, indirectly so, animals as well, which will further feed other humans. While one might argue that in the sole context of humans alone, life certainly comes before death, I say that such a thought process is foolish, arrogant and quite irresponsible."
Several students lowered their heads in embarrassment, evidently stung by Sylvain's words. They did think that way, but was that not natural? Comparing the chicken and egg dilemma to the intricate web of an ecosystem is just unfair. Where the former had only two variables, the latter had several. Most people would think this way, even Svetlana and Xiu Mei. So wondering how the Professor would counter this argument, they stared at him attentively. Sylvain understood what his students were thinking. In fact, he did not blame anyone for such thoughts. It was a perfectly natural thought process for the layperson. But Sylvain was not a layman.
"A chicken and an egg are only one part of a cog. If the chicken or the egg is eaten, what comes after? It may seem like sophistry, but do not forget a simple thing. Everything exists in a system. How can a chicken lay an egg? How can an egg hatch into a chicken? Who or what decided that such an outcome would always come to pass? How do we know it is not happening in reverse? How do we know that we even perceive it correctly, that the egg does not lay the chicken or that the chicken does not hatch into an egg? Who decided on which Truth we base all our knowledge on? Unless you can answer these in a purely existential way, you cannot just claim either to have come first. The one to come first is always the system of Existence."
As he spoke his last words, the holographic board flickered. The one and zero written on it then multiplied and spread. At first, they alternated, but soon, they started getting disorganised with several of the same number repeating before the other number replaces it. It was erratic and wholly disorienting. The students could not quite understand what was going on. Sylvain did not seem intent to continue speaking or listen to their queries. Instead, he watched the changes to the board indicating to the class that his explanation could be found there. But they truly could not understand. Or at least not until a millionth digit appeared. It was Svetlana who noticed it first. Her drooping eyes opened a little wider, leaking their dark amethyst light that she barely reigned in. With a shocked and enlightened tone, she spoke.
"It repeated. It's a pattern."
Indeed, the string of numbers repeated. Not everything was repeated, but there was a sizable chunk that was recognisable. The rest still seemed like a chaotic mess, but slowly everyone started finding more and more repeats. And the more they found, the bigger the repetitions were. Sometimes, even the sequence of repetition was repeated. The scope and frame were quickly becoming one big sandbox that seemed entirely in the palm of a single hand, Sylvain's. They all turned to him questioningly. Was this what he wanted to show them? A controlled system? To their question, however, Sylvain shook his head.
"I did not manipulate the extrapolation of data. That was entirely random. But as I always say: Once is a coincidence; Twice is a pattern; Thrice is an Inevitability. This is an iteration of the Infinite Monkey Theorem. A series of ones and zeroes, irregardless of which is inputted first, would lead to these same patterns given enough time, no matter how miniscule the possibility is. But we're not here to discuss Chaos Theory. I wanted to show you that it is not one or zero that matters, but its sequences and patterns. It is not the chicken or egg that matters, it is the cycle. And likewise, it is not the human, the plant or the animal that matters. What matters is the system, both the perceivable and the imperceivable, the conceivable and the inconceivable."
The display of the board changed once more. From millions of numbers, it zoomed out further to show trillions, and still it zoomed out. The numbers themselves were so small that they seemed more like grains of sand. But what the students saw was something else. They saw water flowing, an ocean current beneath the bland digits. The tide ebbed and flowed, creating countless waves surging rhythmically. These were all just numbers, just a bunch of ones and zeroes. And yet, their sequences, patterns and repetitions have somehow created this stunning scene. It was like a living tapestry. Sylvain had a small smile as he looked at it. He turned to look at his class only to find them all enamoured by it. With a nod, he snapped his fingers once more, and the holographic board disappeared. He waited for a while for the students to snap out of their daze and refocus on him before finally continuing.
"I have shown you what Chaos can create, the Serenity that brought it an unmatched beauty. I told you I did not manipulate it…, but that does not mean it cannot be manipulated."
Sylvain's voice became heavy toward the end. His expression was sombre, a clear difference from his usual stoic. His deep cerulean eyes seemed to glow unbeknownst to him, blanketing the entire room with a formless pressure that seemed both expansive and piercing. Everyone was having a difficult time even looking at his eyes. They felt suffocated, but at the same time defiant. They have been subjected to this pressure a few times before. It was a shock for most of them who only met Sylvain for the first time, but they quickly learned that their minds improved faster under this strain. It seems the Professor was about to say something very important that they needed to carve into their heads. Sylvain spoke as the notebook in his hand fluttered open on its own, flipping to pages filled with words glimmering with a faint blue light, its aura that of archaic omen.
"On the first day, beautiful winged angels walked the ground, learning more of themselves and each other.
On the second day, they ran around learning about their surroundings.
On the third day, they jumped in joy at the beauty of their home, the bounty of life.
On the fourth day, the winds welcomed their flexed wings, enjoying their freedom in the skies as the earth awaited their return.
On the fifth day, they explored the world. And when that was not enough, sought to glimpse the beauty of the beyond.
And on the sixth day, they stepped out of the world to find an endless blackness, the absence of all light and darkness. But an unknown voice chuckled at their shattered dreams and said, "Let there be light!"
And so there came light, a flash of blinding white that spread throughout the emptiness. And when the angels saw everything that lay beyond their reach, they screamed in utter horror.
On the seventh day, they awoke on the ground, mangled and limbless, dragging their wingless bodies out of the hollow shells of their once beautiful selves. The horror they saw, it cursed their minds to a primal base. It cursed their bodies to crawl on the mud and dirt, wriggling and slithering. It cursed their souls to no longer bear remembrance of their very own origin.
And from there, they started anew. Knowing only of the earthy grave eagerly awaiting to embrace them, unaware of the mournful skies who cannot help but scorn their new deplorable visage. They raised civilisations thinking of the light as the Beginning of all Creation. Let there be light… such arrogant fools."
Sylvain scoffed, clear disdain and disgust in his eyes, the hatred in them fully unveiled.