Takeshi Hayate sat in his modest room, the moonlight filtering through the paper screens and casting delicate shadows on the tatami mat. The faint hum of the evening wind was his only companion as he sat cross-legged, a small, ink-stained notebook open before him. This was his ritual—the quiet hours of the night, where his thoughts could flow freely, unbound by the judgments of the outside world.

Tonight, his focus was on pragmatic nihilism, a philosophy he had pieced together from the fragments of his life experiences. With deliberate strokes of his brush, he wrote:

"Heroes and villains are often seen as opposites, yet they share a striking similarity: both act based on their own beliefs and moral codes. They exist on the same metaphorical coin, with a gray area in between—a space where anti-heroes and anti-villains reside. Anti-heroes are self-serving individuals who still pursue some form of justice, while anti-villains have noble intentions but often use flawed or harmful methods.

This complexity in human behavior reflects the deeper question of morality itself. What we call humanity and morality may not be as universal or inherent as we think. Early in human history, when survival was paramount, acts like violence, domination, and even exploitation were common. In the animal kingdom, survival often overrides morality, as it is dictated by instincts.

Humans, however, developed empathy—a late evolutionary trait that allowed us to connect with others emotionally. This sense of empathy became the foundation for what we now call morality. Right and wrong are not universal truths but constructs we created to navigate social living.

Religion, too, may have emerged from this need for structure and unity. Some see religion as a system designed to control behavior, built on the idea of a higher power to inspire awe and discipline. Others, however, view it as a source of hope and meaning, offering guidance in a complex world. Whether one sees religion as a tool of control or as a source of solace, its influence on morality and humanity cannot be ignored.

Ultimately, while we might claim to have evolved beyond our primal instincts, traces of our animalistic nature remain. Our actions are still driven by the same basic needs, but empathy and societal norms have tempered our tendencies toward violence and chaos.

This perspective doesn't diminish humanity; rather, it invites us to critically examine what it means to be human. If morality is a construct and meaning is not inherent, then we have the power—and the responsibility—to define them for ourselves."

He continued:

Stolen novel; please report.

"Pragmatic nihilism does not deny the beauty of the world or the value of human connection. Instead, it allows us to embrace them fully, knowing that their worth lies not in permanence but in their fleeting nature. Science and philosophy are not opposites; they are tools to navigate this chaotic existence."

Takeshi leaned back, setting his brush aside. The next section of his notebook would be devoted to the practical application of this philosophy. He believed that ideas, no matter how profound, were useless if they could not be lived. He began to outline principles:

Action over inertia: Recognize that life's lack of inherent meaning is not a reason to succumb to apathy. Instead, act with intention, knowing that your actions create the only meaning that matters.

Reason through science, reflect through philosophy: Use science to understand the tangible world and solve problems. Use philosophy to explore the intangible realms of thought and emotion. Together, they form a complete toolkit for navigating existence.

Accept impermanence: Cherish every moment, relationship, and opportunity, knowing that they are transient. This awareness transforms the mundane into the extraordinary.

Empathy without delusion: Care for others not because of some moral imperative handed down by an unseen force but because shared humanity enriches our lives.

Takeshi's handwriting grew bolder as he fleshed out each principle, his thoughts flowing like a river. The room around him faded into the background, replaced by a vivid landscape of ideas.

By the time he stopped, the room was bathed in the soft glow of dawn. He stood, stretching his stiff limbs, and looked out the window. The world beyond his small home stirred with life, indifferent to his work yet profoundly shaped by it in ways that were not immediately visible. He had no grand illusions of becoming a renowned philosopher, but if his words could resonate with even one soul, it would be enough.

Takeshi sat down once more and read his final 2 entries for the night:

"To live as a pragmatic nihilist is to walk a path between despair and purpose. The abyss may always be beneath you, but the horizon is yours to chase we made our own meaning and purpose and we live logically and by science"

"Heaven, hell, reincarnation, simulation, and nothingness—these are different beliefs about the nature of life. Yet, there is one that stands apart: nihilism, the belief that life is meaningless and that morality is a construct imposed by society. This idea holds weight when we look at the animal kingdom, where morality does not exist. Humans, being animals ourselves, developed morals only because our brains evolved empathy far beyond that of any other species. This empathy led us to establish moral frameworks, separating us from the raw survival instincts of beasts and allowing us to become intellectual, civilized beings. Still, our beliefs about the universe are rooted in wonder, an attempt to grasp what lies beyond our understanding. The universe is infinite, and we have only glimpsed the observable portion, leaving the full extent of existence unknown. In this vastness, our lives are ultimately insignificant. Thus, we are free to do as we choose—because nothing truly matters, and we are bound by nothing."-Pragmatic Nihilism