In a small room at the heart of a star, within a solar system of little renown, a slightly chubby man was lying in bed with his feet propped against the ceiling. He stared blankly at his toes, his mind wandering through a lifetime of memories in search of a single moment that was even remotely interesting. He had contorted himself into countless positions; although his cultivation made cramps a physical impossibility, he did his best to find the most uncomfortable one imaginable. On the off chance he finally succeeded, at least something would have happened.
This young, unkempt man was barely twelve Aethelian cycles old, yet he was already one of the most promising treasure manufacturers on the Aethelian network. As such, he had been entrusted with manufacturing an incredibly powerful and extremely rare treasure. To speed up the process, his client had even provided him access to Archean energy from a newly formed universe, paying a premium to ensure no one else could enter it for nearly half an Aethelian cycle. That is how this young, bored-out-of-his-mind man found himself all alone, working the longest single stretch of his life. To put it in perspective, he had been working nonstop for fourteen billion Terra years.
About one and a half billion years ago, he finished setting up the treasure’s foundation, which meant his remaining work, while important, no longer required his full attention. As long as he was within a certain range, he could continue the manufacturing process using only his spiritual senses. This left him relatively free, but being utterly alone, he got bored quickly. He had devised many ways to entertain himself.
His latest and greatest idea was to manufacture multiple treasures, infusing them with such abundant spiritual energy that they formed their own souls. He then set many restrictions on these spiritual treasures, ensuring he could always monitor them and providing them with ingrained tasks. He called them Conduits. Finally, he released the Conduits out into the vast universe. Now, all he needed to do was wait for some of the inhabitants to find them, and his entertainment could begin.
The man repositioned himself with his back against the wall, using only the side of his head and shoulder for support. All he had to do now was wait.
On Terra, in Port Sterling, a young man sat on a bench in Bayside Promenade at midnight, staring out at the night sky in a state of deep melancholy. He was exhausted—not physically, but mentally. From an outsider’s point of view, his life was going great; he had graduated from college early with honors and landed a job right out of the gate. In his spare time, he made small video games, a hobby he never took seriously until a random online streamer uploaded a viral video, raging at how horrible his game’s mechanics were. That video prompted others to do the same. In the short span of four days, while he wasn’t even paying attention, his game’s sales skyrocketed. He’d suddenly made a pretty penny. Then, a gaming company offered to buy it, and he sold it for a little over seven million dollars.
Yes, from an outsider’s view, his life was going great. To be honest, even he had to admit there was nothing he could complain about, but he was profoundly bored with life. Socializing with friends was a chore. His career felt monotonous. He took up a few hobbies to find something interesting, but nothing held his attention. He reminisced about his days as a kid, when the world was filled with wonder and everything was exciting. Playing was exciting, getting new clothes was exciting, meeting friends was exciting. Even something as mundane as not losing a pencil before it was worn down to a nub was a thrill.
Finn let out a deep sigh before getting up. It was getting late, and there was no point staying out. He looked at the night sky one last time before heading home and saw a shooting star. “Wish something fun would come my way,” he mumbled, the words laced with irony. He didn't believe in shooting stars granting wishes. But whether by coincidence or by fate, the streak of light altered its course, turning and flying towards him with impossible speed. It didn't seem to suffer from any atmospheric drag and made no sound as it approached. Finn was caught completely unaware when something hit him in the back of his head and knocked him out cold.
When he awoke, groggy and confused, a voice echoed in his head. “Assimilation complete. Launching System. Welcome to Crossroads Hotel. Host Designation: The Innkeeper.”