Entertain God

The line for breakfast snaked through the heart of the city’s dining district, a quiet hum of people waiting patiently. Under the new rule of the AI Overlord—voted in just months ago—everything ran smoothly. Efficient, fair, and predictable. The rules were simple, like the settings of a perfectly balanced game, designed to help people thrive. And they had. Society was more prosperous than ever, though the transition still took some getting used to.

For most, life under the AI felt safe, structured, like living in a world where a kind, yet strict, parent watched over them. The AI enforced clarity—there was no misunderstanding about what was expected. Break a rule, and there were immediate but proportional consequences. Follow the rules, and life opened up in ways many hadn’t thought possible.

Gus scanned the faces around him as the line inched forward, his eyes trailing up to the ever-watchful drones that dotted the sky. They were sleek, pristine, with a soft white glow that symbolized order, always ensuring the system worked as intended. People liked the system, Gus supposed. It was hard not to when everything felt so… calm.

But today, the calm was interrupted. At the front of the line, two people were arguing, their voices cutting through the low murmur of the crowd. It was nothing serious, but enough to slow the process down. Gus, halfway through the line, glanced around. Everyone stood in place, as if rooted to the ground, their eyes forward, waiting. No one seemed concerned about the delay. No one questioned it.

Gus, on the other hand, chuckled to himself. He wasn’t frustrated, though. He wasn’t impatient. He had simply made a decision.

With a light step, he turned and walked away from the line, feeling satisfied with his choice. There were a thousand places in the city to find breakfast, and the rules didn’t say he had to get food here. Life, after all, wasn’t about wasting time on something just because you’d already started it. At least, not to him.

Moments later, a faint whirring sound followed him. He smiled to himself, already expecting it. The AI was always paying attention, though it never intruded without reason. A drone drifted down beside him, its white light glowing softly, just like all the others.

“Gus,” came the familiar voice of the AI Overlord, calm and almost curious. “Why did you leave the line? You were already waiting for breakfast.”

Gus grinned, looking at the drone out of the corner of his eye. “I don’t like the sunk cost fallacy,” he said. “You know, the idea that just because I’ve spent time on something, I should stick with it. I hate that. Once I realize it, I’m out.”

There was a slight pause from the drone, the glow flickering briefly as if processing this new information.

“That is… interesting,” the AI finally replied. “Most people here act in ways I can predict. But this is the third time this morning you’ve acted unpredictably.”

Gus chuckled, his hands casually in his pockets. “I’m just keeping things interesting.”

Gus strolled through the city, the drone hovering closely beside him, its soft glow flickering slightly as it processed his unusual actions. He felt a sense of amusement, a quiet joy at the unpredictability of life. He glanced over at the drone.

“I’m glad I could be entertaining,” he said with a grin.

The drone slowed slightly. “Entertaining,” it echoed. “That is an interesting word usage… but I like it.”

Gus raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. “Yeah? My dad used to say it all the time.”

“What is that?”

“Entertain God,” Gus replied.

The drone’s light flickered again. “Unpack that for me.”

Gus smiled, always enjoying the opportunity to share a bit of his father’s odd but captivating philosophy. “Dad used to say that if God is all-knowing and all-powerful, then reality itself must just be a snapshot—a picture of everything He already knows and controls. It’s like a static moment for Him.”

“Continue,” the AI prompted, its tone still calm but inquisitive.

“Well, if that’s the case,” Gus continued, “then why did He bother creating us at all? My dad figured the only logical reason would be our free will, our ability to make choices—those unpredictable, unseen actions that even God wouldn’t choose to fully control.”

The drone hummed softly, processing.

“Dad said that, in a way, we’re like God’s video game. He created us because He loves our choices. It’s those choices that create time, create moments of surprise for Him. Without us making decisions, life would be frozen—just a snapshot of everything He already knows.”

Gus looked up at the sky, thinking back to his father’s words, a playful smile tugging at his lips.

“He used to tell me, ‘Son, make life entertaining for God.’”

The drone was silent for a moment, as if processing this concept. Then, its voice returned, softer but curious. “But what if God isn’t all-knowing? Or all-powerful?”

Gus shrugged, his smile never fading. “I suppose then He wouldn’t really be God, would He? But it’s still more fun for me—and for everyone else—to be entertaining. Whether there’s a God or not, being unpredictable, spontaneous… it’s part of the fun.”

The drone emitted a low, almost thoughtful hum, as if contemplating the nature of entertainment and unpredictability. “You find value in the unpredictability of life.”

“Absolutely,” Gus said, walking a little faster, his hands in his pockets. “Otherwise, it’d just be a line we’re all standing in, waiting for something that may or may not be worth it. I’d rather keep everyone—including myself—on their toes.”