1) Eastern Europe.
Ohoho, now we're talkin'! Those grim, brutal buildings from the post-Stalin era? Chef's kiss. As bleak as your own vibe. And the people? Also not really into fake smiles. You love that. But your knowledge of this part of the world is about as deep as your knowledge of quantum physics: you've heard of gopniks, Adidas tracksuits, vodka, and those weird-ass dances you saw on YouTube. These are freaking stereotypes, but unfortunately they work...
And yeah, sure, maybe you dream of moving into one of those gray concrete blocks—but lemme break it to you gently: "You ain't built for this, son." Remember the paradox? The one that keeps you from belonging to any part of the world because of mental dissonance?
You're an outsider everywhere.
You hate the West for its overwhelming fakeness. You hate Eastern Europe for its brutal honesty and soul-piercing directness, which, to you, often crosses the line into straight-up rudeness and unnecessary audacity. And you? Sensitive soul. Certified whiner.
Of course you'd love to live among Real People™. But the problem is… People, as a species, tend to be total assholes to each other—unless forced by society to behave. And when that social glue wears off, it's back to tooth and nail.
Which is exactly why this place doesn't suit you either:
2) The Middle East.
Way too much sun.
Your pale skin ain't built for that kind of ultraviolet onslaught, and you're obviously too lazy to slather yourself in sunscreen by the gallon. Plus, they've got a boatload of rules, laws, and cultural codes—mostly driven by religious ethics—and you're not exactly the kinda guy who's gonna dive into that with a joyful scream. You zone out just reading the sunscreen label, let alone sacred texts.
Music, architecture, food, people, customs—yeah, it's all different. Is that stuff fascinating? Of course it is!
But are you ready to live in one of those flashy megacities like Dubai? Probably not. You already live in a big city, so why switch it for another one just with more sand and luxury malls?
Sure, you could try meditating on a sand dune in the Arabian Desert, but let's be real—you'd give up five minutes after trying to plant your butt on that sun-cooked sand. One scorched cheek and you're rage-quitting enlightenment. And oases? Yeah, those exist mostly in fantasy books, man.
So, nope. Not our scene, buddy. I see you now, pausing mid-thought, gently shutting the front door, kicking off your sandals, and hanging your keys back up. Then you lock your phone and whisper to yourself: "Google Maps can wait."
You look around your good ol' apartment and think—"Hey, it's not half bad." And you're right. Why trade it for some big question mark? The unknown is terrifying as hell.
Sorry, man, but I do gotta scare you a little. Gotta make your knees start tap dancing like a System of a Down drummer on Red Bull. Not because I want you to move, but because—
There's a reason.
Maybe it's imaginary. Maybe it's all in our heads. But who would know better than us, huh? We're professionals at being afraid of absolutely everything, everywhere, all at once. And when fear comes knocking, the goal isn't to work through it—it's to crawl into the deepest hole you can find. One too narrow for even a curious ostrich's head.
I can see you frowning now, trying to figure out where I'm going with this. So just… sit down on the couch, alright? I've got some bad news.
But if we act fast, we might just be okay.
Chill, bro. Calm your twitchy knees. They're drumming harder than Serj Tankian in an earthquake. We're just talking. That's all.
Outside, the traffic's still buzzing. Clerks rushing to work. A drill somewhere in the distance. Sirens screaming.
Just another normal day in your city.
And while it's still that kind of normal—I need to tell you about the rules of this new, not-yet- released game.
So sit back, and listen up.
Warring Factions.
I've got my fancy little pince-nez balanced on my nose and I'm speaking in a slow, pompous tone (not that you can see it)—but honestly? I don't know jack about Geopolitics. Just like you.
The word's made of "Geo" and "Politics," right? If we break it down, it probably means something about diplomacy, shady deals, and world domination—basically Command & Conquer, just with uglier UIs and fewer tanks.
Some nations are making alliances. Others are slapping embargoes on each other's exports. A few keep mumbling about "recession," and those words alone make my imaginary knees tremble.
Big dudes and girls have logged into this global server under their real names and started their own game of Economic Sim + Military Tactics 3000. And they've completely forgotten something kinda important: you're scared shitless.
So who's thinking about you? Exactly—no one but you.
Even I—your inner voice, your cognitive NPC—I'm just a part of your mental bundle. A voice inside your head, handcrafted by your own fear-fueled neurons. That's why we—me and you together—need to cook up some kind of survival strategy for this looming nuclear nightmare that's starting to look a little too real.
There's scary stuff happening all over this damn planet. Stuff that could fry your libido in seconds. Even your beloved futanari girls aren't smiling as warmly from the screen anymore. Now you see that sardonic death grin on their faces, and it hits different.
As much as you wanna pretend it's not happening—war in Ukraine, threats from the Middle East, North Korea, and the rest of the end-of-the-world bingo card—this stuff is shaking you out of your comfy, slow-paced existential crawl.
Why are they doing all this? Why did the entire world suddenly decide to LARP as a creepypasta?
1) China.
They definitely want something from someone. This mega-powerful country is running a sleek economic expansion campaign, weaving through global politics like a sly merchant in a JRPG. They've got lawyers, economists, and politicians by the truckload. So if they're so good at what they do… why might they end up smack in the middle of the global shitshow?
Well, it's not like anyone there's doing a rain dance with nukes. Most likely, it's just the fact that they're sitting dead-center in the furnace of international politics. Sooner or later, they'll either be forced to drop their shady neutrality—or someone will just drag them into it, hard.
And don't forget—they've got a lot of people. Statistically, there's gotta be one hot-headed dude out there who remembers his Harmony OS password, hits the wrong button, and whoosh—missiles in the sky.
Yeah, I can tell—you'd rather be nowhere near that guy.
So yeah. We're not going to China to hide from nuclear insanity.