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The Omniscient Extra

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Synopsis
"Every story ever told really happened. Stories… are where memories go when they are forgotten." —Dr. Who. In a world where every forgotten memory holds the power to shape reality, Michael finds himself at the intersection of life and story. As a seemingly invisible extra in the grand narrative of the world, he begins to see beyond the surface, uncovering a hidden truth: the stories we dismiss, the memories we forget, are the very fabric of existence. What happens when a man remembers the memories meant to be erased? How do you live with the knowledge that stories—often cast aside as fiction—can kill? Join Michael as his journey unfolds, where he navigates the blurred lines between the extraordinary and the mundane, embracing the role of an omniscient extra in a world that’s more interconnected than anyone could imagine. From forgotten pasts to unwritten futures, Michael holds the key to a story that was never supposed to be told.
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Chapter 1 - In the Beginning... Well, Sort Of

It wasn't quite the beginning as you might imagine—no grand calendar marked the day, no clocks ticking away (because, let's be real, if there were, we'd all be late). But it did start with a BANG! Or, at least it would have if anyone had been around to hear it. (Insert your philosophical musings about sound and ears here. No, seriously—because early birds? Yeah, they weren't a thing yet. Neither were worms.)

Scientists today theorize that our world kicked off explosively, chaotically—kind of like a toddler going wild on a piñata (or, if you prefer, like girls on a particularly bad hair day). Time? It wasn't invited to the party. So, this so-called bang? Maybe it happened. Maybe it didn't. (Come on, in a world without clocks, who's checking?)

Now, about this BANG! Where there's a bang, there's chaos. And where there's chaos, there's Order. Picture the two squaring off in some cosmic boxing match. Order, the neat freak, and Chaos, the eternal party-crasher. Their brawl? That's what gave us balance. Well, sort of. Balance in the sense that you got light and dark, man and woman, cats and people allergic to cats. You get the idea.

From that mess came Essence. The Cosmos' favorite Lego set, shaping universes, stars, planets, and all the stuff that gets scientists really excited.

Fast forward to the "Chaos Era," which—ironically—was a bit too orderly. Imagine a Netflix show where nothing really happens in the first six episodes. Peaceful, yeah... but unnervingly so. Then, like all good stories, things started to fall apart. Chaos couldn't resist getting back in the mix, stirring the pot. Classic Chaos.

That's when the collapse of Essence happened. Everything spiraled, and the big boys—Ancestral Beasts, Demon Kings, Fey—emerged. Final bosses, if you will. And humanity? They were... somewhere, probably hiding behind a rock, Googling "how to not die."

But you know humans. Curiosity might be our weakness, but it's also what keeps us in the game. We stumbled upon the secrets of cultivation—spiritual weightlifting, if you will—and decided to take on those ancient creatures. Thus, the War of Beasts began. Spoiler alert: The beasts didn't win any popularity contests.

And so the cycle continues—destruction, renewal. Rinse and repeat. The Cosmos loves its reruns. Beasts fall, gods rise, humans mess with dangerous powers, and the cosmic clock keeps ticking.

Today? We're in the Golden Era, lounging at the top of the food chain. But those ancient energies—yeah, the ones we probably shouldn't mess with—are stirring again. The party? It might not be over just yet... the cake hasn't even been served.

So buckle up, reader. Reality's balance is dangling by a thread—probably a thread made of string cheese. Keep an eye on it.

As for the year? Well, time's a bit wibbly-wobbly out in the cosmos, but we're in a familiar place. No, not your living room. But close.

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Our story begins, as most do, on a little blue rock called Earth. The only rock in this solar system that peoples just like an apple tree apples. Or at least, that's the extent of what its inhabitants believe. For all they know, one of those other rocks could be hiding life, though the odds aren't exactly in their favor. Still, hope springs eternal in the human heart, doesn't it? (Spoiler alert: optimism is often overrated, but let's not kill the mood just yet).

In this Golden Era—correction, Golden Age, as the humans coined it—some dream of space exploration, and a few ambitious ones plan to colonize and terraform entire planets. Never mind that we're barely keeping things together down here as is.

Ah, that human curiosity. Always poking its nose where it doesn't belong. You'd think by now, they'd have learned their lesson. But no. We'll see where it gets them this time.

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But let's not get ahead of ourselves. Back to Earth. This planet has been through a lot over the eons, and its latest version is... well, let's call it a world of contrasts. 71% of the surface is swallowed by oceans so vast they make the land seem like an afterthought. The Oceania Pacifica alone could swallow whole continents without blinking. And Atlantica? Warm but not exactly welcoming, unless your idea of fun is swimming with the sharks (not the metaphorical kind). Then there's the Arctica and Southern Oceans, though you'd be forgiven if they slipped your mind (I mean, who's booking a vacation to "ice-filled wasteland" on purpose?).

What's left of the land, all 29% of it, is divided into six continents, each with its own little quirks. The Great Eastern Realms hogs the spotlight with 30% of the land and more than half of humanity crammed onto it. The Cradle of Humankind, that's 20.5%, and for all its beauty, it's also home to its fair share of troubles. It's civilized, sure—at least parts of it. The Americas spread out with 28.7% of the land, where jungles, mountains, and prairies stretch as far as the eye can see. As for Arctica, well, it's mostly untouched. Ice and isolation keep it that way. Europea's got history baked into its 6.9%, and Oceania—smallest of the lot—holds just 5.8%.

Together, these oceans and continents tell the story of Earth's past, present, and future. But we're here for one story in particular.

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Our tale unfolds in The Cradle of Humankind's uncivilized lands. A place of vast, untapped potential and, unfortunately, constant conflict. Tribes with differing beliefs and ideologies live here—harmoniously, or at least that's the story they like to tell. In reality, harmony is just a polite word for barely contained chaos. Tribal wars, skirmishes, battles... call it what you like. It's all just another Tuesday in these parts. This is why it's called the uncivilized lands.

But for a place to be called uncivilized, there's got to be a civilized counterpart, right? Naturally. And there is. Deep, very deep, in the heart—no, let's say the crucible—of the continent, lies a paradise. A hidden society that calls itself TheCradle. Very on the nose, but it works (Clearly no one told them about subtlety).

This place, TheCradle, is an unassuming utopia. Think of it as Wakanda—except with fewer flashy suits and a whole lot more 'we're just better at hiding.' It's like Wakanda's chill cousin who'd rather win quietly in the background than shout about it (But really, who needs vibranium when you've mastered humility, am I right?). They've got technology that makes the rest of the world look like it's stuck in the Stone Age, but they keep it quiet (hush-hush, on the DL). Because if history's taught us anything, it's that flaunting your power is a fast track to trouble.

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So here we are, caught between a chaotic world and a hidden paradise. I'm just here to observe, take some notes, maybe make the odd quip. It's not exactly a glamorous job, but hey, someone's got to keep track of all this.

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Before we get any deeper into this mess of a story, I suppose I should introduce myself. Not that I'm the hero of this tale—far from it. You could call me an extra, a background character with just enough of a role to be noticed but not enough to steal the spotlight (And trust me, I'm fine with that). My name is Michael, and I'm what you'd call a silent observer.

Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not some omniscient being peering down from the heavens (Despite what the title might suggest). No, I'm just a guy with a knack for being in the right place at the wrong time (It's a gift, really). Always watching, taking notes, maybe a little too curious for my own good. I wouldn't say I'm a pessimist—more like a rational optimist with a sense of humor (Saves me a lot in therapy). You learn to laugh at the absurdity when everything around you seems to be unraveling.

You see, I come from a family of civil servants, farmers, and dreamers. Simple beginnings, nothing grand. My father, a man of the land—like his father before him—always told me, 'Boy (yup, he called me boy, just like…), if you want to understand the world, start by planting something and watch it grow.' I suppose that's why I like to observe. The world's a garden—sometimes it flourishes, sometimes it withers. And then there are times when it just... combusts (wink).

After a whirlwind education, one gap year, and a degree in economics—upper second class, by the way (but who's keeping score, right?)—I found myself at a bit of a crossroads. A pandemic—rather The Pandemic—happened (cos when it rains, it pours). Plans unraveled, opportunities vanished, and somewhere along the way, I became disillusioned with the so-called system (Fun fact: disillusionment comes free with every diploma). So, I opted out of the mandatory service—dodged that bullet, or so I thought. And now? Well, now I'm starting a business in the gaming industry. Because if there's one thing that unites people in these fractured times, it's the pursuit of high scores (guess we'll all be scorekeeping).

That's me. I'm not here to change the world, but I'll sure as hell be there to watch when the world changes. And with the way things are headed, I won't have to wait long.

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So, where does that leave us? Well, while the rest of the world bickers over who gets the biggest slice of the pie, I'm here, sitting in the middle of it all, with a front-row seat to what's coming next. The Cradle of Humankind, the uncivilized lands, and TheCradle itself—this paradise hidden deep in the heart of the continent—it's all connected, though most people don't know it yet. But don't worry, you will.

I'm just here to narrate, to guide you through this maze of events as they unfold. I might not get my hands dirty, but I'll be there when the dust settles (bring popcorn). And trust me, it's going to be one hell of a ride.

You could say I'm the bridge between the world you know and the one you're about to step into (I'm the Avatar?). A lot's going to happen in this story—tribal wars, the rise of superhumans, and a hidden utopia fighting to remain unblemished. But through it all, I'll be here, keeping an eye on things (scorekeeping). Sometimes I'll step back, let the characters do their thing. Other times, well, I might offer a word of advice, though whether anyone listens is a different story.

So, buckle up. Because while I'm not the hero of this tale, I'll be the one telling it. And if there's one thing I've learned, it's that even the extras can change the course of the story if they're paying attention.

Now, before you think I'm about to get too philosophical, let me stop you right there. This isn't one of those 'everything happens for a reason' speeches. No, sometimes things happen for no reason at all, and it's up to us to make sense of the pieces. But I will say this: when the dust settles, you'll be glad you had someone like me to keep things in check (and keep score). Or at least to make sarcastic comments along the way.