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Anti Life Equation

God of Synthesis: The Anti-Hero's Tale

Oscar Sytoz bears many names across countless realms—The Alchemist, The Synthesizer, The Variable, The Seducer—titles whispered with equal measures of reverence and fear. But his eternal enemy, the final harbinger of destruction and nothingness, knows him by more revealing designations: The Anomaly, The Vile One, and most curiously, The Cat-like Regressor. You might expect the bearer of such grand titles to be a paragon of virtue, a champion of light standing against encroaching darkness. You would be wrong. "These imbeciles call me a hero when I'm practically swindling them," Oscar mutters as he exchanges a mere fraction of his power—just enough to save a desperate race—for resources that serve his own agenda. His calculating eyes already focused on the next opportunity, the next advantage to seize. Oscar harbors no grand ambitions of saving worlds or redeeming souls. His motivations are refreshingly straightforward: to live, to survive, to protect those few he genuinely cares about, and most importantly, to enjoy whatever precious moments of peace he can steal with his beloved wives. Hero? The very thought makes him scoff. "There already is one," he'll tell you with biting contempt, "and he's doing a spectacularly terrible job at it." In this vast cosmic game where gods and primordials clash for the fate of everything, Oscar prefers to remain the shadow in the corner—the background character who sees all while carefully cultivating the appearance of insignificance. Until, of course, circumstances force his hand. This is not the saga of a chosen one destined for greatness. This is the tale of a survivor—cunning, ruthless when necessary, and infinitely adaptable. This is the story of Oscar Sytoz, The God of Synthesis—a man who has learned that true power lies not in being recognized as a hero, but in being underestimated until it's far too late.
ari3s_ · 578 Views

Massé Life

I used to be disenchanted of my own hands. Not in some weird psychological way—though maybe it was psychological, who knows. I mean literally afraid that my hands would betray me at the worst possible moment. Which they did. Constantly. Job interviews, presentations, first dates. Anytime people were watching and waiting for me to perform, my fingers would go numb and my brain would just... shut off. Like someone pulled the power cord. I called it ATSM—Anxiety That Stiffens Muscles. Stupid name, but I'm a programmer. I like labeling things, even when I can't fix them. The worst part? It killed my one real passion. I used to love billiards. Was actually decent at it, back in college. But after... well, after something happened that I don't really want to get into right now, I couldn't hold a cue stick without falling apart. So I did what any rational person would do: I gave up. Got a safe job, worked long hours, convinced myself I didn't need hobbies anyway. That plan worked great for about fifteen years. Then I made the mistake of running my mouth on TikTok, challenging the Queen of Nine-Ball to a match. Because apparently when you're having a midlife crisis, the smart move is to embarrass yourself in front of the best billiards player in Southeast Asia. This plot is about what happened after that. It's about meeting people who refused to let me quit, learning to fail in public without dying, and discovering that sometimes the only way forward is to go back and face the thing that broke you in the first place. It's also about billiards, obviously. But mostly it's about being brave enough to suck at something you love, in front of people who matter.
unghoangphidang · 7.3K Views
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