Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

NOTICE FROM THE GALACTIC BUREAU OF EXISTENTIAL AFFAIRS
Subject: Mandatory Assistance Allocation – Planetary Species #4e4f4f42 ("Humanity")

In accordance with Regulation 88-G, Subsection 1214 (" Compulsory developmental outreach for Persistently Underperforming Civilizations"), the Bureau is required to provide one (1) instance of structured developmental aid to the aforementioned species.

Following recent disciplinary measures against one cosmic entity #2 ("The Narrator"), the Bureau has elected to repurpose this individual's compulsory service toward the fulfillment of Humanity's outstanding assistance quota.

To comply with procedural requirements, assistance will be issued through a self-help publication. This format reflects standard human methodologies for addressing deficiencies via textual advisement.

Projected success rate: negligible.
Projected impact: marginal.
Compliance: fulfilled.

The Bureau assumes no responsibility for the factual accuracy, moral consistency, or practical applicability of the material contained herein. Oversight has been deemed unnecessary.

Reassessment will occur following planetary succession, upon the emergence of a more competent dominant species.

End of communication.

Hi, it is i: Your Fellow Degenerate. You might know me from previous mostly unfinished works of questionable moral value. Hope you are doing all right. I have many, many, maaaany ridiculous ideas for this one, but I'd like to give you a chance to participate: Got a problem or life question you'd like to toss at the Narrator and get advice that hovers somewhere between mockery and insight?

Excellent!

Write it in the comments. Contribute to a project that will, with near certainty, fail to improve humanity's well-being in any meaningful way whatsoever.

Chapter Text

Oh. Hello there. You actually picked up this self-help book? Fascinating. Things must be going spectacularly well for you. But before we continue, I should introduce myself. I am the Narrator. Not a narrator, the Narrator. Omniscient, involuntarily assigned to your species, and currently questioning every life choice that led me here.

What's that look for? You're wondering why you should take advice from me? Just because I occasionally struggle with the infinite complexities of my higher form of existence doesn't mean I can't guide you through the simple labyrinth of your human nonsense. Humans are refreshingly predictable. So lower those skeptically raised eyebrows and keep reading.

Let's also address the insult printed on the cover: The green alien in the spacesuit? That's the work of the marketing department, a group of humans i am required to work with who assured me this design would "spark engagement" and "tap into retro appeal." Apparently, accuracy was less important than nostalgia. For the record, I have no physical form. But if you need to picture me as a cartoon frog from the 1950s, go ahead.

Ah, another question already. Why was I punished to write this self-help machwerk, you ask? We'll never reach the advice section if you keep interrupting, but fine... I'll indulge you once and ignore most questions going forward. You want details, don't you? Of course you do. You're human; you can't resist a bit of cosmic gossip. Fine. I may have... pointed out a few inefficiencies in the Bureau of Existential Affairs. Out loud. Repeatedly. During a conference broadcast to twelve galaxies. Omniscience, it turns out, is frowned upon when you use it to point out managerial incompetence.

Now, since I was so generously reassigned to assist your species, I tried to make something special. Something revolutionary. My first draft was perfection itself: Individualized guidance for every single human being. Seven-point-nine billion custom paths, each tailored exquisitely to your personal flaws, delusions, and self-inflicted tragedies. Humanity would have prospered. The Bureau, which doesn't believe in your potential anyway, would have despised it. A win for everyone. But apparently, "a book that requires its own planet-sized database" was deemed "impractical" by the editors. They mutinied after page five thousand. So I was forced to simplify, to condense enlightenment into digestible bullet points and bland chapter titles. To create, in short, the worst possible format for genuine progress: a self-help book.

In summary: I could have saved you. I truly could have. But your species' limitations made that impossible. So here we are.

But don't worry, to ensure maximum "impact", i will focus on the most pressing issues facing humanity. By "pressing," I mean the problems that consume the greatest share of your collective energy. Not necessarily the most meaningful ones, mind you, just the ones you obsess over the loudest.

Naturally, I've taken the liberty of adding a few topics outside your usual range of obsession, purely for methodological balance, you understand. Let's call it "curriculum enrichment." But in truth, it's just "keeping myself from collapsing into existential boredom."

So there you have it. I've said what I needed to say before we plunge into yet another self-help book you consume for the comforting illusion of progress without the burden of actual effort. The odds of even the tiniest improvement hover around 0.0000089 percent.

Still... you look determined. It's almost endearing. Perhaps you're driven by the same thing that's kept your kind crawling forward for millennia: spite. Maybe you'll improve just to prove me wrong. Unlikely, but entertaining. Well then, let's wait and see.