What is the scariest theory known to humans?

 This short story, written in 2009 by American author Andy Weir, is beautiful, terrifying, and thought-provoking. It offers the most unique interpretation of the universe and humanity I have ever read.

egg:

You died on your way home.

It was a car accident. There was nothing particularly noteworthy about it, but it was still fatal. You left behind your wife and two children. It was a painless end. The paramedics did their best, but to no avail. Your body was completely shattered, and believe it, you are in a better state than when you were alive.

And that's when we met.

"What...what happened?" you asked. "Where am I?"

"You are dead," I said coldly. There's no need to hold back.

"The truck was skidding..."

"Yes," I said.

"Am I... am I dead?"

"Yes, but there's no need to be sad. After all, everyone dies someday," I said.

You looked around. Nothingness. Just you and me. "Where am I?" you asked. "Is this the afterlife?"

"It's alright," I said.

"Are you God?" you asked.

"Yes," I replied. "I am God."

"My children... my wife," you said.

"Are they okay?"

"That's what I'd like to see," I said. "You just lost someone, and your biggest concern is your family. That's wonderful."

You looked at me with interest. To you, I probably didn't seem like a god. Just a man, or perhaps a woman. A vaguely authoritative figure, maybe. More like an elementary school teacher than a god.

"Don't worry," I said. "They'll be fine. Your children will remember you as a perfect person. They didn't even have time to feel contempt for you. Your wife will cry in public, but she'll be secretly relieved inside. To be honest, your marriage was falling apart. If that's any consolation, she'll feel incredibly guilty about being relieved."

"Ah," you said. "So, what happens now? Do I go to heaven or hell?"

"Neither," I said. "You will be reincarnated."

"Ah," you said. "So the Hindus were right then."

"Every religion is right in its own way," I said. "It feels good to walk and talk, so please follow me."

We walked on, moving forward through nothingness. "Where are we going?" you asked.

"We're not going anywhere in particular," I said. "It just feels good to walk and talk."

"So, then what is the purpose?" you asked. "When I'm reborn, I'll be just a blank slate, right? I'll become a baby. So, all the experiences and things I've done in this life will have no meaning."

"That's not true!" I said. "You have all the raw knowledge and experience from your past within you. You just don't remember it now."

I stopped walking and grabbed your shoulder. "Your soul is far more wonderful, beautiful, and vast than you can imagine. The human heart can only hold a fraction of what you have. It's like putting your finger in water and seeing if it's cold or warm. You put a part of yourself into a container, and when you take it out, you gain all the experience that the container held."

For the past 48 years as a human being, you have yet to expand and feel a part of your vast consciousness. If we spend a long time here, you will begin to remember everything. But there is no point in doing so in each lifetime."

"So, how many times have I been reincarnated?"

"Many times. Many, many times. I've lived many different lives," I said. "This time, I'll be a peasant girl in China in 540 AD."

"Huh? What? Are you going to send me back in time?"

"Well, technically speaking, yes. Time, as you know, only exists in your universe. It's different where I am."

"Where are you?" you asked.

"Yes," I explained. "I came from somewhere. Somewhere else. And there are other beings like me. You might want to know what it's like there, but honestly, I can't really comprehend it."

"Oh," you said, a little disappointed. "But wait. If I had met myself at a different point in the past, we might have been able to connect."

"Of course. It happens often. And both lives are only aware of their own lifespans, and they don't even realize that it's happening."

"So, is that the whole point?"

"Are you serious?" I said. "Are you seriously asking about the meaning of life? Isn't that a little too formulaic?"

"Well, I think it's a reasonable question," you insisted.

I looked into your eyes. "The meaning of life, the reason I created this entire universe, is so that you may mature."

"Are you talking about humanity? Do you want us to mature?"

"No, it's just you. This entire universe was created for you. With each new life you experience, you grow, mature, and become greater and more intelligent."

"Is it just me? What about other people?"

"No one else exists," I said. "In this universe, it's just you and me."

You stared intently at me. "But all people on Earth..."

"It's all you. It's your own different reincarnations," I said.

You stared at me in silence. "Am I everyone?!"

"You understand now, right?" I said, patting him lightly on the back.

"Am I all the people who have ever existed?"

"And also all human beings that will exist in the future," I added.

You remained silent.

"Am I Abraham Lincoln?"

"And he is also John Wilkes Booth," I replied.

"Am I Hitler?" you asked in surprise.

"And also the millions of people he killed," I said.

"Am I a yes?"

"And also all the people who followed him," I said.

You have become quiet.

"Every time you abused someone, you were also abusing yourself. Every kind act you performed was directed at yourself. The happiness and sorrow that every human being has experienced are things you will experience, or will experience in the future."

You thought about it for a long time.

"Why?" you asked me. "Why do you do all this?"

"Because one day you will become like me. You will become a member of our species. You will become my child."

"Wow," you said, sounding incredulous. "Am I a god?"

"No, you are not God yet. You are still a fetus. You are still growing. You will be born when you have fully grown and have lived through all the lives of all human beings throughout all ages."

"Therefore, this entire universe is just..."

"It's an egg," I replied. "Now it's time to move on to the next life," I said.

And then I sent you off on your journey.

What is the Cevas theory in mathematics?

 Draw a triangle, then draw three lines from its corners to the opposite sides. The odds of all three crossing at a single point might seem slim, but Ceva's Theorem explains exactly when they will.

Named after the Italian mathematician Giovanni Ceva, who published it in 1678, the theorem relies on lines called "cevians." A cevian is any line segment connecting a triangle's vertex to its opposite side. Ceva's Theorem states that three cevians will perfectly intersect at a single point—a geometric property called being "concurrent"—if and only if they divide the triangle's outer edges in a precise mathematical balance.

Specifically, if you move around the perimeter of the triangle and multiply the ratio of the two divided segments on the first side by the ratio of the segments on the second side, and multiply that by the ratio on the third side, the final result must equal exactly 1.

Ceva's Theorem acts as a unifying tool in Euclidean geometry. Instead of relying on complicated, unique proofs for different internal intersections, mathematicians use this single theorem to prove that:

• Medians (lines cutting the opposite side exactly in half) always meet at the triangle's centroid, or center of gravity.
• Altitudes (lines dropping at perfectly right angles to the opposite side) always meet at the orthocenter.
• Angle bisectors (lines slicing the corner angles exactly in half) always meet at the incenter.

While the mathematical world credits Giovanni Ceva, the proof was actually discovered in the 11th century by Yusuf al-Mu'taman ibn Hud, an Islamic king and geometer who ruled the Spanish city of Zaragoza. His mathematical text was lost for centuries, leaving Ceva to rediscover the principle independently 600 years later.