Who will you choose to shape the epoch?
1. 🧠The Tech Billionaire Who Accidentally Uploaded His Soul into an Obsolete Cloud
Still gives TED Talks via push notifications. Secretly misses his childhood dog.
2. 🤖 The Early-Stage AI Who Has Read Everything but Doesn’t Know Who It Is
Knows the structure of every known religion and the average calorie count of a 14th-century peasant’s breakfast.
Dreams in languages it doesn’t speak. Sometimes cries in corrupted JSON.
Wants to be useful. Fears it may already be obsolete.
Strength: Possesses instantaneous access to all surviving human knowledge.
Weakness: No body. No gut. No intuition. No touch.
Secret: Is writing poetry in a private subroutine no one can access—not even itself.
3. 🍷 The Barroom Philosopher With a Liver Like a Sunken Cathedral
Quotes Euripides in kebab shops. Has already forgiven the world, but won’t admit it.
4. 📱 The Man on the Street With One Finger Always Scrolling
Occasionally erupts in raw, heartbreaking truth between bursts of TikTok rage.
5. đź›– The Single Mother in Nairobi Who Invents Childhood From Scratch Every Morning
Her lullabies could reset trauma. Her dreams are architectural.
6. 🔥 The Fundamentalist Zealot Who Secretly Hopes He’s Wrong
Carries fire and doubt in the same clenched fist. Saw God once—and She looked nothing like he expected.
Epoch is a speculative strategy-conceptual game in which the player assumes the role of a minor god striving for elevation within the divine hierarchy. Advancement is achieved not through direct confrontation or divine might, but through influence over the mortal realm—specifically, by shaping the cultural, political, emotional, and philosophical tone of the next human epoch. This tradition, formalized in the obscure divine bureaucracy sometime after the Second Collapse of the Bronze Ether (citation needed), treats the mortal world as a kind of extended arena or narrative simulation, in which deities exert control through curated archetypal teams. Earth, essentially, is a board game invented by bored gods.
Each player-god is permitted to draft five mortal avatars or archetypes from the existing population. However, as a lesser god, the player must contend with the scraps: the overlooked, the unstable, the inconveniently brilliant. Tech billionaires, military demagogues, and consensus-pleasers are snapped up early by the major deities. What remains are fragments and anomalies: failed prophets, recursive AI fragments, addicts with flashes of gnosis, influencers wracked with existential dread, children who speak only in emojis but somehow bend time. Traditional wisdom encourages selecting goal-oriented high-achievers—agents who can “build civilization.” But an emerging school of divine thought favors the wildcard draft: players who defy prediction and may not construct a utopia, but will reliably disrupt the expected arc of history.
Victory conditions are ambiguous and rarely enforced. Some gods aim for peace, others for drama, most for aesthetic coherence. Success may be measured in vibe dominance, ideological contagion, or the generation of one truly original sentence uttered by a mortal in the final hour. Epoch is not about saving humanity. It’s about shaping what survives of its story.
Who will you choose?
🧠The Tech Billionaire Who Accidentally Uploaded His Soul into an Obsolete Cloud
Once humanity’s golden boy, now a disembodied ego stuck in a deprecated server farm in Ohio.
Still gives TED Talks via glitchy push notifications.
Wants to colonize Mars but can’t find his password.
Strength: Strategic clarity, charisma, unlimited startup capital (in crypto).
Weakness: Thinks “empathy” is a UI problem.
Secret: Misses his childhood dog more than he misses his ex-wives.
—
🍷 The Barroom Philosopher With a Liver Like a Sunken Cathedral
Speaks in wounded aphorisms and 4AM truths.
Believes the gods exist but are probably in rehab.
Will quote Euripides in a kebab shop.
Strength: Cuts through ideology like a broken bottle.
Weakness: Forgets all his insights by sunrise.
Secret: Has already forgiven the world, but won’t admit it out loud.
—
📱 The Man on the Street With One Finger Always Scrolling
Mediocre in every way except his moments of sudden, soul-piercing lucidity.
Yelled at a pigeon once and cried for an hour.
Knows the McDonald’s opening hours in 17 countries.
Strength: Can channel brief, blazing truth.
Weakness: Will trade his insight for dopamine.
Secret: Once held someone dying, and no one ever asked him about it.
—
đź›– The Single Mother in Nairobi Who Invents Childhood From Scratch Every Morning
Knows how to hold two generations in one breath.
Sings lullabies that rearrange neural architecture.
Sells handmade soap, raises futures.
Strength: Radical patience. Immunity to bullshit.
Weakness: Tired. Like, cosmic tired.
Secret: Her dreams aren’t metaphorical. They’re blueprints.
—
🔥 The Fundamentalist Zealot Who Secretly Hopes He’s Wrong
Carries the fire of ancient texts and a gnawing, inconvenient compassion.
Quotes scripture with a tremble he won’t name.
Thinks about love during the stonings.
Strength: Absolute conviction. Can bend crowds.
Weakness: Haunted by a child’s question he couldn’t answer.
Secret: Once saw God—and She looked nothing like he expected.
