Existential Proof: The 25-Year-Old PhD Cute Girl VTuber (Not)
The existential proof of the "25-Year-Old PhD Cute Girl VTuber (Not)"—right here, right now. VTuber viewers flooded into Chzzk with the utmost desperation, the deepest longing in their hearts. Their singular purpose? To witness with their own eyes the arrival of Scalaiive's 3rd gen newbie VTuber. In other words, the descent of a "god" among VTubers.
They gathered before the pitch-black "Wailing Wall" on their screens, hands clasped over their keyboards. And they prayed.
Oh, how pitiful these souls are. They were even afraid to bare their true hearts. Otherwise, how could they spout such ridiculous prayers...? A true prayer should simply reveal one's pure wishes and faith... If we peeled back the shy sentiments hidden amid those absurd invocations, they'd surely read something like this:
Ahh... What desperation! What urgency!
I, Seol Yuna—the corporate VTuber set to debut in about 30 minutes—read through each and every one of those chats. "Sob...!" And with it came a profound sorrow.
This was... grief for the tragedy to come.
Today, without a doubt, many would be wounded. Ambulances across Korea would race without cease. In the worst case, some might even perish.
Because... viewers overwhelmed by my charm would succumb to massive heart attacks...
"Sob...!"
In despair once more, I thought of "Her"—the one who'd faced a similar moment.
'Lady Heavenly Demon... did you feel this too...?'
I speak of this era's final Heavenly Demon: Michael Jackson.
She once said: At her "descent," countless souls would perish (meaning her concerts). No matter the preparations, sacrifices were inevitable (the emergency teams). Tens of thousands of devotees steeled themselves for loss and gathered there (pure fandom). Thus, she stood before the "responsibility" of meeting their expectations (professional pride).
Recalling that interview, I wiped my tears and steeled my resolve. At the same time, I offered a prayer to my one and only liege.
"Lady Nari... please forgive my sins..."
Today, I would stain my hands with much blood. Those countless viewers would lose their minds, entranced by my allure. A fated tragedy, an ill-starred destiny, an unintended sin. Yet I resolved to bear it all.
After all, it was all because I was too cute, too lovable, too genius, too beautiful...
"Ufufufufufu..."
And so, Han Sewon—watching all this—spoke up.
"...President, Yuna's starting to laugh out of nowhere?"
An Huiyeon replied.
"Let her be... Probably having a good dream or something..."
Exhausted as she was, she had no energy to mind Seol Yuna's antics. She'd never really cared anyway.
Scalaiive's four 3rd gen members. The third one's debut stream...
...began with a vast cosmic vista.
The cosmic scene was so breathtakingly beautiful that everyone forgot what to say. Dozens of galaxies spewed radiant light. The voids between them were darker than darkness itself, evoking dread and fear. Violent black holes devoured even light, revealing nothing beyond their event horizons. Countless meteors were trapped in stars' gravity, orbiting eternally.
As all were overwhelmed by this majestic universe...
"Uuuu-----niiii-----verrrrse-----"
A voice thick with echo effects boomed across the stream...
Viewers jolted in shock.
Just as they wondered if they'd misheard...
"Uuuuuuu-----niiiiiverrrrseeeee-----"
The voice echoed again, longer this time—proving they hadn't imagined it.
Undeterred by the chats, the voice continued.
"This vast, boundless universe..."
"Contains one tiny, tiny speck..."
Tap— The sound of a keyboard key, and the screen shifted.
"Gaaa----laxxxx----y-----"
Now it showed not the universe, but a single galaxy.
Viewers panicked at the incomprehensible display.
Recalling the previous two debuts, they nodded to themselves. But the voice pressed on, ignoring the drama.
"That tiny, tiny speck contains another..."
Tap— Another keypress, another shift.
"Eaaa----rthhhh-----"
Now, our pale blue dot: Earth.
About 10 seconds of Earth on screen. Then it went black. When light returned...
A "lab" appeared. Impeccably sterile white, no dust allowed. Dozens of machines, flasks of colorful liquids. A space suited only to cold silence and mechanical hums.
A voice, deadly serious, resounded.
"My comrades..."
"What did you feel upon witnessing that spectacle?"
Viewers mumbled vague replies.
"Indeed... You felt the futility of humanity. Nay, of civilization itself..."
Affirming their responses and emotions, the voice continued. (Naturally, no one had said that.)
"We humans pride ourselves on our astonishing civilization."
"Yet measured against this universe, all of humanity is but dust."
The voice thundered.
Light-years: distances light travels in a year—truly astronomical. But even light-years fall short to describe this cosmos. Humanity? We've barely crossed one light-day from Earth.
A perfect example of the universe's grandeur—and humanity's insignificance.
"All ignore it, but humanity teeters on extinction."
"Perilously so."
"The slightest cosmic whim could erase us..."
A massive meteor could strike Earth. A plasma jet could graze our solar system. A vacuum decay bubble could engulf the galaxy.
Balanced on thin ice. A sandcastle before the waves.
That was humanity and civilization.
"Does that render all human achievements meaningless?"
"Futile?"
"Worthless?"
The voice questioned again. A query on the meaning and value of humanity and civilization—everything that could vanish in a cosmic blink.
And it answered itself.
"NO!!!"
"Abso---lute---ly not!"
A resounding denial. Rejection. Refusal.
Of humanity's triviality. Civilization's vanity. All denied, rejected, refused.
"If the universe's whims seek our end, we'll fight and prevail!"
"If its majesty cows us, we'll devour the universe!"
"If its mysteries blind us, we'll tear them all asunder!"
A declaration. A proclamation. Arrogant dominion over the cosmos. Rebellion against our creators. Hubris to trample the universe. Blasphemy to enslave the divine.
"Humanity has already taken its first step, grasping the sharpest weapon..."
"That 'weapon' is... science!"
Doong—
A pitch-black shadow entered the empty lab.
"Thus—I, this speck!"
"This speck of a speck of a speck of a speck in the universe!"
The shadow lightened gradually.
"And not just any speck, but a special, grand, elegant one: me!"
"I have arrived to place that 'weapon' in your hands!"
Through the fading shadow: a lab coat, horn-rimmed glasses.
"Praise her! Worship her, ye grad students!"
"The super-genius perfect-PhD holder who shall personally teach you science!"
"Doctor—Fermi!!!"
With her name and credentials proudly revealed, the shadow fully receded.
Now, in that lab stood a with white hair, red eyes, floor-length lab coat, and horn-rimmed glasses...
Doong—