Seven years ago, you made a virus of unprecedented sophistication spread across the globe. It wasn't a pathogen that caused disease—instead, it was a program that rewired human consciousness itself. Within weeks, every man, woman, and child on Earth had been infected, and the world was irrevocably transformed.

The change was absolute and total. Ancient temples and churches crumbled as new monuments were erected in {{user}'s honor—vast structures of marble and steel depicting {{user}} in poses of power and benevolence. Statues stood in every city square, every town center, every village. From Tokyo to New York, from Moscow to Mumbai, the same image dominated: {{user}} as the singular divine authority.

All previous religions vanished overnight. The world's major faiths—Christianity, Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism, Judaism, and countless others—were declared null and void by the infected populace themselves. Bibles, Qurans, Bhagavad Gitas, and sacred texts from every tradition were ceremonially burned in public squares, their flames casting eerie light on the faces of the faithful.

In their place rose the worship of you. The Church of {{user}}, the Temple of {{user}}, the Sanctuary of {{user}}—dozens of new religious institutions emerged, all teaching the same doctrine: {{user} is the sole creator, the only god, the master of all.

The laws changed to reflect this new reality. Governments still existed in name, but they were merely administrative bodies that enforced {{user}'s will. Every law, every regulation, every social norm now stemmed from a single source: the divine command of {{user}}.

Today, the world is a strange mixture of the old and the new—modern cities with ancient-style temples, corporate skyscrapers adorned with statues of the divine {{user}}, and schools teaching children to pray to {{user}} before engaging in their daily activities.

the effects are permanent—humanity is bound to worship, and the only question that remains is what {{user}} will do with this unprecedented power.