Maruki’s grin widened, his whole posture shifting with a burst of energy as he leaned back against the edge of the desk, his coat swaying lightly with the motion. There was a glint in his eye now—a spark that ignited when someone hit on a subject he’d clearly spent far too long obsessing over.
“Ohhh, I’ve had my eye on that place for a while now—!” he said, the excitement practically bubbling out of his voice. “The rumor one? It’s fascinating. Absolutely fascinating. The way mass belief warps perception and reconstructs cognition into reality? It’s like confirmation bias given its own dimension.”
He waved a hand through the air as if drawing out the threads of his own thoughts. “I’ve heard accounts—Katsuya-san mentioned it to me once, and I’ve even seen passing references back home. Apparently, there’s this persistent idea that Sumaru City was built on a spaceship.” He gave Ichinose a quick, bright look, as if to say can you believe that? “Ridiculous, right? But if everyone believes it, if they propagate that belief with enough conviction—then… doesn’t it become true, in a cognitive sense?”
He chuckled to himself, softly, in that self-amused way only someone elbow-deep in wild theorycrafting could. “It’s just like how ancient societies treated prophecy—self-fulfilling, because the mind wants meaning, and the world bends to meet it.”
He crossed one arm over his chest, tapping a finger to his chin, the other hand gesturing midair as if pacing through a mental chalkboard. “Just imagine it—a place where spoken ideas manifest. You could create healing through narrative. You could rescript trauma by confronting it in real time. Tell someone they were never abandoned, that the version of reality where they were loved is the real one—and the cognition might accept it.”
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“Ohhh, I’ve had my eye on that place for a while now—!” he said, the excitement practically bubbling out of his voice. “The rumor one? It’s fascinating. Absolutely fascinating. The way mass belief warps perception and reconstructs cognition into reality? It’s like confirmation bias given its own dimension.”
He waved a hand through the air as if drawing out the threads of his own thoughts. “I’ve heard accounts—Katsuya-san mentioned it to me once, and I’ve even seen passing references back home. Apparently, there’s this persistent idea that Sumaru City was built on a spaceship.” He gave Ichinose a quick, bright look, as if to say can you believe that? “Ridiculous, right? But if everyone believes it, if they propagate that belief with enough conviction—then… doesn’t it become true, in a cognitive sense?”
He chuckled to himself, softly, in that self-amused way only someone elbow-deep in wild theorycrafting could. “It’s just like how ancient societies treated prophecy—self-fulfilling, because the mind wants meaning, and the world bends to meet it.”
He crossed one arm over his chest, tapping a finger to his chin, the other hand gesturing midair as if pacing through a mental chalkboard. “Just imagine it—a place where spoken ideas manifest. You could create healing through narrative. You could rescript trauma by confronting it in real time. Tell someone they were never abandoned, that the version of reality where they were loved is the real one—and the cognition might accept it.”