Chapter 2: God Mode Activated

Eric Lee looked at the message on his phone. After staring at it for a few seconds, he deleted it as spam.

I watched, eyebrows raised, as Eric’s thumb hovered over the delete button, rolling his eyes like he’d just gotten another spam call about his car’s extended warranty. He barely paused—a totally normal move. I couldn’t help but laugh.

This surprised me. The way the virtual person acted was so close to real. But that wasn’t the reaction I wanted. So I sent more messages to Eric’s phone.

I fired off texts in rapid succession: "I know everything," "Ask me anything," "Your destiny awaits." I even tossed in a few emojis. His phone pinged and buzzed, but Eric just set his jaw and scrolled to block the number.

The notifications kept coming, but Eric was unfazed—he blocked the sender and went back to his day. The AI’s logic was perfect: ignore, block, move on. Part of me was impressed, part annoyed.

I realized I needed to step up if I wanted to get through to him. So I rewrote the code, disguised my number as one of Eric’s contacts, and called his phone directly.

The phone rang, the name of an old friend flashing on the screen. I pictured Eric squinting at it, thumb hovering, curiosity winning out.

"Hello." Before Eric could say anything, I spoke into the mic.

My voice echoed in his world, a weird thrill shooting through me. It was like using a walkie-talkie to reach another universe.

Eric glanced at the caller ID, frowning. "Hello?"

He pressed the phone to his ear, glancing around suspiciously.

"Hey there. I’m the all-knowing, all-powerful god of your world. Got any questions for me?" I repeated, making my voice sound as chill and mysterious as possible.

"You scammer! You actually hacked my phone!" Eric snapped. "If you keep harassing me, I’ll call the cops!"

His irritation sounded so real—annoyed and defensive, just like anyone who’s ever gotten a weird call. I felt a little guilty, but mostly fascinated.

"Your name is Eric Lee, born December 31, 1997. You’re single, you work at Brightview Apparel Inc. Your dad is David Lee, your mom is Susan Lee…" I rattled off his info, watching his face go from skeptical to pale. "And you’ve got a secret crush on your coworker Rachel White, plus you’re still pissed at your boss Peter Lang for embarrassing you in front of her…"

Eric froze, eyes wide. His breath caught. For a second, he looked like he might drop the phone, his heart pounding so loud I could almost hear it through the screen.

"How do you know all this?" He clutched his phone, scanning the room for hidden cameras.

"I told you, I’m all-knowing and all-powerful."

I kept my tone even, almost bored, watching his panic grow.

"Who are you really?" Eric’s voice shook.

Dropping my voice low, I replied, "I am a god. Don’t bother looking for me—we’re not even in the same world."

Eric stared at the phone, mouth open. He looked around his cluttered apartment, muttering to himself, trying to reason it out.

After a long silence, he finally whispered, "Can you… prove it?"

"Prove what?" I picked at my teeth, trying not to laugh.

"Prove you’re a god." He wasn’t letting go, clinging to reason.

I uncrossed my legs, a little annoyed. "What kind of proof do you want? Wasn’t what I just said enough?"

Eric shook his head, almost like he thought I could see him. "Unless… you can do something only a god could do."

He glanced at his bank statement on the desk.

"Like what?" I prompted, already guessing.

"For example… give me some money." He grinned, a little sly, like he was only half-joking. “Well, if you’re a god, how about dropping a few million in my account? Or, you know, ten billion. I won’t complain.”

I burst out laughing. Leave it to a virtual American to go straight for the cash.

"How much do you want?"

"You’re the god, you decide. But… the more the better."

He gave a half-laugh, hope flickering in his eyes like someone checking a lottery ticket.

All right, let me show you my power. I opened the terminal, pulled up Eric’s bank account, and typed in a massive sum—like I was hacking the world’s biggest video game, except the NPCs were living, breathing people—at least, they seemed that way.

"Check your account now," I said, not even glancing up.

Eric’s hands shook as he opened his banking app. His jaw dropped as a string of digits filled the screen—over ten billion dollars, sitting right there.

"How about that?" I stretched, popping my knuckles, grinning like I’d just beaten the final boss.

"Oh my god!" Eric rubbed his eyes. "How did you do that?"

He paced his room, looking for hidden cameras or a prank crew ready to yell, "Gotcha!"

"You wouldn’t understand. Just answer me this—do you believe I’m a god now?"

"Of course, of course!" He nodded frantically, still staring at his phone, his whole body buzzing.

Watching Eric lose it over his account balance, I felt a weird satisfaction—like I really was a benevolent god. I let myself soak in the glow, grinning at my own reflection on the dark monitor.