POV: High-Dimensional Observer — Doka Unit 782-C (a.k.a. "Clarity")
Somewhere beyond spacetime — where reality was just a suggestion, and coffee still mysteriously failed to brew itself — a dimensional being known only as Clarity hovered in existential anguish.
And by anguish, we mean she was yelling at a monitor.
"WHO LET HIM UNLOCK ROOM-TEMPERATURE SUPERCONDUCTORS ON DAY TWO?!"
A sigh came from behind her. "Clarity, he's within parameters. The Catalyst Protocol allows for accelerated comprehension if the host shows abnormally high pattern acuity. It's in the handbook."
"There's a handbook?!"
"Of course there's a handbook. You just… vaporized it that one time you were bored."
Clarity spun around, her gelatinous form rippling with indignation. "That handbook was made of paradox-resistant paper! I had every right."
Her fellow observer, a shimmering fractal cloud known only as Boop, floated lazily by, sipping fourth-dimensional tea and projecting tiny hearts. "You're just mad because you bet he wouldn't figure out phonon coupling until Week Four."
Clarity growled. "He wasn't supposed to improve the model! He synthesized a superconducting film while sleep-deprived and dodging awkward social interaction. He's a science gremlin, Boop! A gremlin!"
"Genius gremlin," Boop corrected. "Also, did you see the way he panicked when Jenna asked a totally normal question? Adorable."
"Adorable?! He's a walking NDA violation! You saw him shove a $40 million discovery into a desk drawer like it was leftover takeout!"
Boop swirled. "Maybe humans do things differently. Maybe that's part of the charm."
Clarity threw up a holographic diagram. "We are watching the collapse of probabilistic discipline! He just unlocked the Optimized Elian Stack. Do you know what the probability curve looks like now?"
Boop projected a chart. It looked like a spaghetti graph being eaten by a black hole. One thread of fate had a tiny party hat labeled "Timeline: Haha Oops All Progress."
"Exactly," Clarity hissed. "The Catalyst is moving too fast. He's not supposed to hit that tier until—"
She checked her clipboard.
"—Chapter 17!"
Boop sparkled. "Well, at this rate, Chapter 17 will be next Tuesday."
Clarity moaned.
Then, as if summoned by the Universe's sense of irony, the Monitor chimed.
[Subject: Elian Rho]
[Status: Anxiously pacing. Mentally projecting 28 different prototypes. Budget anxiety: 93%.]
Boop perked up. "Ooh. Is it time for the money crisis?"
Clarity paused, floating a little closer to the feed. Elian stood in his lab, muttering things like, "Graphene mass synthesis… reactor-grade precision… oh no, that capacitor design needs money," while tearing through old grant spreadsheets like a man possessed.
He finally slumped in his chair, cradling his head. "I need a lot of money."
Clarity narrowed her focus. "So it begins."
Boop spun with joy. "Chapter Six: Elian Attempts Late-Stage Capitalism!"
Clarity didn't answer. She was already opening a subfolder labeled 'Risk Factors: Human Capitalism vs Elian's Social Skills.'
There were no files in it.
Only a blinking GIF of Jenna raising one eyebrow.
Meanwhile, in another corner of the multiverse…
A group of senior Dokaversals gathered around a giant interdimensional viewing window.
You wouldn't expect the kind of dumb conversation they are having
"Did he just design a quantum resonator using leftover lab equipment?"
"Has he slept?"
"Is he… budgeting?!"
The room fell silent.
One of the elders finally whispered:
"He's evolving."