Adam awoke feeling slightly weary, but he forced himself out of bed. The apartment was unusually quiet. He wandered through each room, calling out softly, but there was no answer. The place was empty. His family had vanished.
Confused and uneasy, Adam's eyes caught a note resting on the kitchen table. He picked it up, unfolding it slowly.
[Dear Adam,
Your father, siblings, and I have gone to visit a relative. We'll be away for a while. I'm sorry I didn't have time to prepare a meal for you.]
The handwriting was unmistakably his mother's. He sighed, folded the paper, and set it aside. Alone and still somewhat drowsy, he decided to head out. As he stepped outside the door, he glanced at his wristwatch. 10:30 a.m. Good. Still plenty of time before work.
He made his way toward a familiar restaurant downtown to grab breakfast. By the time he arrived and stepped inside, it was 10:57 a.m. No need to rush. he had over an hour to spare. He ordered his meal, and as he ate, his mind began to drift. Time slipped by unnoticed.
Then, a flicker of worry crept in. Had he spent too long? He glanced again at his watch. 11:27 a.m. Still time. Relieved, he returned to his food, finishing it slowly. When he was done, he leaned back against the chair, resting for a moment. Out of habit, he lifted his wrist to check the time once more.11:27 a.m.
Strange.
Adam blinked. The minute hand hadn't moved. A chill crept down his spine. He looked around. the air felt... too still. A silence deeper than silence wrapped itself around him, pressing inward. He turned his gaze toward the wall clock hanging in the restaurant. it too read 11:27 a.m., frozen in time.
A rush of panic surged through him. He leapt to his feet and ran outside.
The world had stopped.
Cars lined the street in eerie stillness. A truck stood suspended just meters away from a man caught mid-step, his eyes wide in terror as if moments from being struck. But neither the man nor the truck moved. Nothing did. The world was paralyzed. Not a sound. Not a flicker. Not even the wind.
Adam spun in place, desperate for signs of life, but all he saw was a world on pause, time arrested, clocks silenced, motion abandoned. He raised his wrist again. 11:27. Still.
And then, a voice echoed in his mind, as if rising from the marrow of the earth itself:
"You have one hour to save time, or everything will fade into nothing."