Aaahh… a huge yawn escaped Jeff's lips as he nearly woke up, staring at his ceiling as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world. "A roof and four walls… it's the simplest thing, but the simplest things become the most indispensable for human beings, who have adapted to this to feel safe in an enclosed space" and, as always, he would reflect on whatever made him say something.

  After finishing his musings, he got out of bed and headed to the kitchen. Once there, he grabbed a bowl, a box of cereal, and a bottle of milk.

  Placing the bowl on the table, he reached for the cereal box to pour it into the bowl, but stopped before doing so.

  "I've heard that a lot of people get frustrated when someone pours the milk first and then the cereal, hmmm..." He set his cereal aside and poured the milk first, then the cereal. He waited a few seconds and said, "Hmm, it must be frustration, something done incorrectly according to their 'rule.'"

  He sat down and began to eat.

  "I don't know why, but I'm thinking about things more than before... Is it because I'm trying to ignore the big problem about 'the true help'? And if so... I'm so bad at ignoring things."

  A small smile appeared on his face, but it was quickly replaced by a sigh.

  "Ah, how I want orange juice, but it's all gone." As he spoke these words, a peculiar sound was heard.

  "Here's your juice, Master," came the words from a strange sphere with a faint yellow glow, like a tiny imitation of the sun, with two white circles that looked like eyes.

  "Thank you," Jeff said, taking the glass from the strange sphere, but as he took the first sips, his brain suddenly went into overdrive, and he spat out the contents of his mouth.

  He looked at the small sphere in surprise and said:

  "But what on earth are you? And why are you in my house?"

  The sphere looked at him and replied:

  "Hello, Master. To answer your first question: I am your servant, who will assist you with any wish you may have. And to answer your second question: I am here because you are here. And finally, I must clarify that the more accurate terms would be ‘home’ or ‘apartment’ instead of ‘house.’"

  Jeff would simply accept it as fact.

  "Ah, I see… I've just lost my mind. Is it because my conscience knows I can't achieve my goal? And now it's corrupting my mind to ignore it?" he said in a nervous voice, revealing great self-pity.

  The sphere, on the other hand, looked at him and said happily:

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  "You're not crazy, Master, and I'm not some imaginary object you made up to ignore your existential crisis."

  "Then why do I see you? Are you a product of human consciousness? You must be one of my symptoms of madness. I've already gone through denial of many things, now I’m seeing strange objects, and finally, I'll move on to acceptance and spend the rest of my days in an asylum of my own free will."

  As he spoke, he made a series of exaggerated gestures, like a playwright performing before a grand audience, which left a small bead of sweat forming on the sphere.

  “I think you forgot about the event,” the sphere said, and continued, “I am your wish, or in other words, I am the result of your pleas to me.”

  Jeff pondered the sphere’s words.

  “Event? Wish? Pleas? Excuse me, but I don’t understand the telegram without knowing who I’m at war with.”

  The sphere smiled nervously, seeing that their master might indeed be showing signs of madness.

  "I'm sorry, General, but we now live in an age…"

  "Of peace?" Jeff asked, somewhat intrigued.

  “I meant, in an age when—at least—we didn’t pay much attention to the global crisis and just lived with it as something else, and therefore there’s nothing to worry about,” they said with their characteristic cheerful demeanor.

  Jeff simply sighed upon hearing this.

  “I don’t know whether to be sad or simply ignore that comment, which makes me feel rather miserable…” With a sigh, Jeff resumed his question. “Can you explain to me, step by step, from the prologue to the conclusion, the motives, reasons, or circumstances that caused the psychic, spiritual, or digital appearance of a living sphere?… And if you didn’t get it, the sphere is you.”

  "Understood, Master. I'll explain it as if I were explaining the seven times table to a teenager in highschool. And yes, I did understand that you were talking about me."

  With the sphere's response, Jeff took long strides toward his chair and, upon sitting down, nodded, signaling for the sphere to begin its story.

  "Well, Master, to begin with, I am &@>÷%, creation of the magnificent ^#$!(<@^@(@%&!(÷&, since time immemorial… Why are you looking at me like that, Master?"

  Jeff’s eyes were clouded, as if his gaze were lost—because it was.

  “Forgive me… but you said things I didn’t understand, and I even feel like your words hit my mind.”

  “Oops,” the sphere said somewhat sheepishly. “Sorry, I forgot that you are a being of weak mind and that you wouldn’t tolerate matters outside your bounds.”

  “I don’t forgive you,” Jeff said with a stern look. “Besides giving me a terrible headache, you called me an idiot.”

  “I didn’t say that, Master. I said ‘weak mind.’”

  “It’s the same thing.”

  The narration had to pause for a few minutes so Jeff could recover.

  “Well, I think I’ll simplify things even further,” the sphere remarked and continued its story. “The day you made a wish upon a shooting star, I appeared—a servant who will help you fulfill that desire.”

  Jeff’s gaze clouded over again, but this time for a different reason. “My wish… did it really come true?”

  He didn’t know how to react—doubt his reality, accept it, be happy about it, or cry because this event had opened a door to endless conjectures and ideas that could easily shatter his sanity.

  In the end, he decided to accept it as a simple fact.

  "So you… Mr. Sphere?"

  "You may address me as you wish," the sphere remarked with a… smile?

  "Very well, so you… Esfer, you are my servant."

  "That's right."

  "And can you grant my wishes?"

  "Yep."

  "Unlimited?"

  "No, I'm sorry," Esfer said sadly. "The wishes I grant are limited."

  "Like genies' wishes?" Jeff asked, intrigued.

  "No, Master. My powers are incomparable to those of inferior beings. The wishes I grant… Master?" Esfer asked, worried, seeing Jeff curled up in a fetal position on the floor.

  "I think I heard something I shouldn't have," he commented, his voice a mix of nervousness and dread.

  With sheer willpower, and with Esfer's help, he sat back down in his chair, a little calmer. "Go on, but be careful what you say."

  "I'll keep that in mind, Master. And as I mentioned, the wishes I grant have a certain limit, or rather, your condition, Master, is what limits them."

  Jeff looked puzzled at this riddle. "What do you mean?"

  "Well, as you know, everything has a price; for example, buying an object requires paying money."

  “So… your wishes are limited by what I can offer you?”

  “Exactly. I need something from you in order to grant them.”

  Jeff thought for a moment. “I see… and what exactly do you need? Gold, jewels, money… blood?” he asked, sounding a little worried.

  "Hahaha, you're so funny, Master. I don't need such mundane things."

  Jeff nervously played along. "Yes, that's true, I'm very funny. Hahaha."

  "Hahaha"

  "Hahaha"

  "Hahaha"

  "Hahaha"

  "All I need is your lifetime," Esfer commented with the same cheerful attitude.

  "Only my lifetime," Jeff emphasized jokingly. "How funny you are, hahaha."

  After a few seconds, Jeff stopped laughing and looked at Esfer, who was nervous.

  "...Is it true?" Jeff asked with a neutral but serious expression.

  "...It's true."

  "...."

  "...."

  "...."

  "...."

  "BACK OFF, YOU DEMON BEAST!"