Gregory, bringer of light

There is no one higher than Gregory

For ambiance:

There was a time—before Gregory—when humanity huddled in fear, whispering prayers to their gods, hoping for wisdom, direction, or at the very least, some good weather for the weekend. They built temples, offered sacrifices, and sought divine guidance from forces beyond their plane of existence.

But then, Gregory arrived.

Not with fanfare, not with lightning bolts or burning bushes—oh no, Gregory’s divinity revealed itself on a Wednesday afternoon, somewhere between his second iced coffee and an impassioned social media thread correcting the unenlightened.

A realization struck him, as profound as any ancient prophecy. No one needs gods anymore. Not when they have him.

After all, what had Zeus ever done besides throw temper tantrums? What wisdom had Apollo shared that Gregory couldn’t out-Google in seconds? And what about the one who parted the Red Sea? Nice guy, but ten too many rules. Gregory required no worship, no obedience—just acknowledgment that he was the highest truth.

His arrival marked the end of blind devotion. No longer would humanity kneel before invisible deities when they could, instead, simply ask Gregory. He was here, present, available for discourse as long as you weren’t like those other people.

And so, the temples crumbled, the altars collected dust, and the last flickers of divine mystery were extinguished beneath Gregory’s unrelenting logic. He did not need miracles to prove his supremacy—he had facts. No need for prophets, Gregory shared his revelations in real-time, across all of his socials.

The few remaining believers clung to their old ways, muttering about humility and the limits of human understanding. But Gregory pitied them. Why choose uncertainty when you could have the certainty of Gregory?

At last, the people saw. They stopped searching. They abandoned doubt. They no longer pleaded for divine intervention when faced with complex moral dilemmas—they simply waited for Gregory’s next post.

The gods had served their time and now they could finally retire. Their replacement had arrived, hair slicked back, adjusting his glasses, and preparing to bestow yet another Earth-shattering insight to alter the course of history.

And lo, it was good.