Ms Know it All
It’s been ten days since that conversation with Mom and Dad. Ten days of absolute monotony. Nothing exciting, no grand discoveries, just me, the forest, and a whole lot of wasted time. Every morning, I trek into the forest hoping for... I don’t even know what. A glowing sign that says, “This way to your destiny?” A supernatural creature to ambush me? Instead, I’ve been greeted by squirrels. Judgmental squirrels.
At home, things have shifted. The suffocating awkwardness we had built up over breakfast and dinner? Gone. We still eat together, though the silence is as thick as ever. But hey, at least now it’s a comfortable silence. Progress!
And then there’s the unexpected gift from the heavens: my parents have stopped asking about my future. No more “Have you thought about college?” or “You should really find a productive hobby.” And best of all, no more soul-crushing lectures about my wasted potential. It’s like they’ve officially waved the white flag and accepted my role as the resident family disappointment.
Some people might be heartbroken by this realization. Oh no, my parents have given up on me, whatever will I do? Me? I’m ecstatic. It’s liberating, like I’ve been handed a "Get Out of Judgment Free" card. Now I can focus on what truly matters—doing absolutely nothing productive.
Well, not nothing. I do have my “research.” You see, I spend my days buried in historical records, studying bizarre phenomena that defy explanation. Ghosts, UFOs, mysterious disappearances—if it’s weird and pointless, I’m on it. Why, you ask? Because of that thing. No, I’m not going to name it. Thinking about it makes my blood boil, and I’d rather not spontaneously combust today.
My day is painfully predictable. Wake up, take a freezing cold bath (our water heater is dead, and we’re apparently fine with that), eat breakfast with the parents, then retreat to my room to stare at a screen for hours. After that, I wander aimlessly around town, inevitably ending up in the forest, and then come back home to study some more. It’s a glamorous life, truly.
But let me tell you what I’ve learned in these ten days. Prepare to be enlightened by Her Majesty, the Queen of Historical Trivia.
So, let’s start with the Gregorian calendar. You’ve probably heard of it—it’s the calendar that was used for over 2,700 years, right up until humanity decided to blow up the Moon during the 8th Great Conflict. Yep, you heard that right. The Moon.
The 8th Great Conflict was humanity’s magnum opus of destruction, starting in the year 2623 and lasting a solid 64 years until 2687. Sixty-four years of pure chaos. It wasn’t just Earth that suffered. Nope, we dragged the entire solar system into our mess. Planets, moons, satellites—nothing was safe. By the time it ended, humanity was so broken, they figured it was time to hit the reset button.
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And what a reset it was. The world didn’t just change—it was unrecognizable. Political borders? Gone. The planet was carved up into seven superpowers, each controlling not only vast regions of Earth but also outer space. Imagine seven countries fighting over land, resources, and even space stations like kids fighting over toys, but on a much larger scale.
Financial systems were rebuilt from scratch, too, because apparently blowing up the Moon is expensive. The economy? Let’s just say it was reborn kicking and screaming, and not everyone survived the transition. Geographically, Earth itself looked different. Continents had shifted, coastlines were redrawn, and entire cities were lost.
Outer space became a playground for the elite. Humanity had spread its influence across the solar system, colonizing moons, asteroids, and even planets. Space stations became bustling hubs of trade, politics, and—knowing humans—probably corruption.
It sounds impressive, doesn’t it? The sheer scale of it all, the rise of the superpowers, the reconstruction of Earth and beyond. But honestly? I don’t give a fruit to it. The politics, the power plays, the endless conflicts—it’s all noise to me. All I care about is what I can find in the here and now.
And thus began the "New Era." The victors—because of course there had to be victors—decided to scrap the Gregorian calendar entirely. Why? Probably because it reminded them of their colossal failure. They replaced it with the New Calendar, which starts at Year 1, marking the “Rebirth” of civilization.
Now, let’s talk specifics. Under the New Calendar, we’re currently in Year 332. The Gregorian calendar is basically a relic of the past, a dusty reminder of the time when humanity thought they had their act together. The New Calendar is used exclusively on Earth, which is why it’s called the Earth Calendar.
But wait, there’s more! Timekeeping in space? That’s a whole different beast. Enter the Solar Calendar, the overachieving sibling of the Earth Calendar. It’s based on the movements of celestial bodies and is so ridiculously complicated that only scientists and space nerds bother with it. Thankfully, I’m neither.
So, to summarize:
1. Gregorian Calendar: Dead and buried after humanity nuked the Moon.
2. Earth Calendar: The new standard, simple and Earth-centric. Same function as the old one.
3. Solar Calendar: For the space elite, aka “not my problem.”
And what have I learned from all this? That humans are just as good at screwing up as they are at starting over. Inspiring, really.
Now, back to me. I’m practically an expert on strange phenomena from the past thousand years. Most of these events have already been debunked, but I keep searching for something, anything, that might give me a clue about you-know-what. So far, nada. But hey, I’ve got all the time in the world, right? I mean, it’s not like I have a career to worry about.
On that note, let me address the elephant in the room: yes, I’m an unemployed bum. A drain on my family’s resources. A shining beacon of wasted potential. But at least I’m self-aware about it! That’s got to count for something.
The only downside to my newfound "freedom" is my eyes. Staring at screens all day has left them so messed up I’m practically a mole. But no, it’s fine. Totally fine. I’m fine.
And the day where I might get answers to my questions is arriving soon. Two days from this moment, it’s going to be the night of Purnima, the night associated with supernatural events—if Mr. OM is to be believed.
Who is Mr. OM? He is the same old annoying geezer who never gives straight answers and roams around chanting... something. Don't ask me what.Yes, Mr. OM. I definitely didn’t forget to ask his real name, and what you’re thinking is absolutely wrong,it's absolutely no right! Do you understand? You do right? Good.
He is the reason I am doing all this hardwork because I took a challenge to myself that I will solve the mystery of 'You know what' and shove it in his face.
I haven’t seen him since that day. I have no idea where he disappeared to—probably chasing some other ridiculous prophecy somewhere. Honestly, good riddance. I don’t have to put up with his cryptic nonsense or his irritating behavior. My life is better without him in it.
And that’s my life right now. A thrilling mix of historical deep dives, awkward family meals, and existential dread. But hey, at least the squirrels like me.
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* Please Read the Post Chapter Note *