“my sibling continued, ignoring everyone, “it’s all wrong. Parents alive. Monarch showing up too early. Sibling that’s clearly an unnecessary addition—yes, I know it sounds convoluted, but that’s the point. It’s not canon!”

I couldn’t decide whether to laugh, cry, or strangle him. “Are you seriously—”

He held up the finger again, signaling for silence. “Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Yes, I’ll hold.” He started pacing, clearly annoyed.

“This,” our mother said, her tone a mix of incredulity and irritation, “is what you decided to do with your awakening?”

“I’m multitasking,” he replied without missing a beat. “Trying to fix reality while also acclimating to it. You’re welcome.”

The Monarch leaned forward slightly, clearly entertained. “And? What is ‘support’ telling you?”

“Nothing yet. I’m on hold,” my sibling said, glaring at the phone as if he could will the person on the other end to answer faster.

I groaned, rubbing my temples. “You’re unbelievable.”

“You’re welcome,” he said smugly.

The Monarch laughed outright at that, a deep, resonant sound that filled the space. “I have to admit, this is a first. Most beings, when faced with their awakening and my presence, are awestruck or terrified. You, however…” He gestured vaguely at the scene. “…are using modern technology to attempt a rewrite. Fascinating.”

My sibling shrugged. “When life gives you lemons, you call tech support and complain about the citrus industry.”

The Monarch tilted his head. “And if support doesn’t respond?”

“Then I adapt,” my sibling said simply, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “But first, I’m going to try buying more in-game currency before my parents confiscate my phone.”

“No,” both our parents said immediately, their voices firm and united.

He looked up, feigning innocence. “What? It’s for research purposes.”

“You’re not fooling anyone,” our father said, his tone dry.

“Worth a shot,” my sibling muttered, before turning his attention back to the phone. “Still on hold. Typical.”

The Monarch shook his head, a smile still playing on his lips. “This is going to be very interesting.”

“Glad you think so,” I muttered, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Because I have a feeling this is just the beginning.”

The Monarch had barely recovered from the first blow when my sibling, still holding his phone, stalked back toward him.

“Wait, what are you doing this time?” I asked, already dreading the answer.

“Plan B,” he said tersely, raising the phone again.

Before anyone could intervene—WHAP!

The Monarch flinched again, though this time he seemed more amused than anything else. “I must admit, this is becoming quite the habit,” he said, rubbing his shoulder where the phone had struck him again. “I’m beginning to wonder if this is some form of primitive diplomacy in your world.”

My sibling ignored him entirely, swiping at his phone with laser focus. “If the universe won’t fix itself, I’ll just… restock,” he muttered.

“Restock?” I asked, thoroughly confused.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he walked a few paces away, navigating through some arcane shopping app that shouldn’t have even existed in our reality. Finally, he stopped and put the phone to his ear again.

“Hello? Yeah, is this Legendary Materials Emporium? Great. I need to place an order.”

Everyone froze.

“You’re kidding,” I muttered, staring at him in disbelief.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

The Monarch, on the other hand, crossed his arms and leaned back as though settling in for a show. “Oh, this should be good.”

“Yes,” my sibling continued, pacing as he spoke into the phone. “I’ll need twenty Tier 1 Awakening Pills… make that thirty. And throw in a couple of Tier 2s while you’re at it. Oh, and painkillers. Lots of painkillers. Like, industrial quantities.”

“What the hell are you doing?” I asked, exasperated.

“Preparing for contingencies,” he replied, still focused on his call. “And before you ask, yes, this is completely necessary. Now, where was I? Oh, right. Also add a dozen mana VPNs to the cart. Can’t have people tracking my spellcasting habits.”

“Mana VPNs? Seriously?”

“Security first,” he replied with mock seriousness, wagging a finger at me.

“How do you even know about this stuff?” our father finally asked, his expression caught somewhere between awe and horror.

“Trade secrets,” my sibling said smugly. Then he spoke into the phone again. “Do you have any Chaos-Infused Healing Potions in stock? No? Fine, I’ll settle for Void-Forged Bandages. Just add a few dozen rolls to the order. And throw in some snacks.”

The Monarch, who had been utterly composed until now, actually raised an eyebrow. “Snacks?”

My sibling turned to him, dead serious. “Awakenings are exhausting. You wouldn’t understand.”

The Monarch chuckled softly. “I do believe I’m beginning to understand more than I anticipated.”

By this point, I was half-expecting a bolt of divine lightning to strike us all down for sheer absurdity, but my sibling kept going.

“Yes,” he said into the phone, “go ahead and express ship the whole order. Wait—” He paused, glancing back at us. “Who’s paying for this?”

Both our parents spoke simultaneously. “Not us.”

He clicked his tongue, shaking his head as if they’d just deeply disappointed him. “Wow. So much for unconditional love.” Then he turned back to the phone. “Just charge it to the Monarch of Chaos account. You know the universal king’s will that one.”

The person on the phone obviously asked for proof of identity.

So my sibling started clicking more buttons and he called what's your credit card number. I forgot what chapter I mentioned it in.

“What?” The Monarch’s amusement flickered into a brief moment of confusion.

“You’re loaded, right?” my sibling asked, pointing the phone at him like a weapon. “A being of your stature has to have some kind of bottomless cosmic credit card.”

The Monarch blinked, then let out a booming laugh. “Oh, you are an absolute delight!”

“Glad you think so,” my sibling replied dryly. Then he went back to his order. “Anyway, yeah, just use the Monarch’s tab. If he complains, tell him it’s for the greater good.”

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “He’s going to get us all killed.”

“Or fabulously well-equipped,” my sibling countered without missing a beat.

The Monarch, now thoroughly entertained, gestured grandly. “Very well. I’ll allow it—for now. Let’s see where this… experiment leads.”

My sibling smirked, giving him a mock salute. “Appreciate it, big guy.” Then, turning back to the phone, he rattled off a few more items. “Yeah, I’ll also need a Voidstone Artifact Case, a high-grade dimensional compass, and… let’s throw in a portable mana generator for good measure. Oh, and those snacks better be the deluxe mana-infused kind.”

“Is there any end to this madness?” my mother muttered, looking like she was reevaluating every life choice that had brought her to this moment.

“Not yet,” my sibling replied cheerfully, hanging up the phone and turning back to us with a triumphant grin. “Delivery’s in three hours. You’re welcome.”

“Three hours?” I said incredulously. “What kind of interdimensional service are you even using?”

“The best kind,” he said smugly, tucking the phone back into his pocket.

The Monarch clapped slowly, his expression one of genuine admiration. “I have encountered many beings across countless realms, but you, my dear storyteller, are truly unique. I look forward to seeing what chaos you create next.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” my sibling replied, his grin widening.

I stared at my brother, a mix of dread and awe swirling inside me. It wasn’t just the absurdity of what he’d done—it was the confidence, the audacity, the sheer lunacy of it all. In his hands, the monumental, cosmic event of his awakening had become… a shopping spree.

The Monarch seemed just as fascinated as the rest of us were horrified. He stroked his chin thoughtfully, his gaze fixed on my sibling as though observing a rare and particularly dangerous creature. “Tell me, young one,” he began, his voice resonant and almost fatherly, “what, exactly, do you plan to do with all these… supplies?”

My brother shrugged, already fiddling with his phone again. “Depends. Step one is to prepare for all possible contingencies. Step two is to wing it.”

“To wing it?” the Monarch echoed, bemused.

“Absolutely.” My brother shot him a cocky grin. “Chaos, after all, is best handled with improvisation. You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?”

There was a beat of silence. Then the Monarch threw his head back and laughed—a full-bodied, thunderous sound that reverberated through the room. “Oh, you are dangerous indeed. But tell me, if chaos is your ally, what becomes of order?”

My brother paused, considering this. Then, with a wicked grin, he said, “Order’s overrated. Besides, I’ve got a workaround for that too.” He pulled out his phone and began typing furiously, muttering something about a “universal rule-breaking patch.”

I turned to my parents, desperate for some semblance of normalcy. “Please tell me you’re going to stop this.”

Our father just shook his head, his expression unreadable. “At this point, I’m not sure we can stop him.”

Our mother, meanwhile, was pacing furiously, muttering under her breath. “This is what happens when you don’t set boundaries. We should’ve taken that phone away years ago.”

“I heard that,” my brother called over his shoulder. “And for the record, I’m doing this for you. You’ll thank me when we’re all swimming in interdimensional snacks and unbreakable artifact cases.”

The Monarch was still watching him, an almost predatory gleam in his eyes. “You remind me of someone I once knew,” he said. “A trickster who defied the natural order and reshaped the very fabric of reality.”