Aiden was an athletic young man with blond hair and blue eyes. He wasn't a prodigy or a champion, but he wasn't a slacker either. To those who knew him, he was just another unremarkable average person.
Cradling a worn-out backpack over his shoulder, he walked through the terminal like it was just another Tuesday.
He handed his ticket to the flight attendant—polite but lacking emotion.
"Basic," he said. That was his norm, and it was the most he could afford on his meager paycheck.
Aiden boarded the plane, feeling the floor shake beneath his feet.
The faces of the other passengers appeared fuzzy in the dim light.
Not a single soul stood out; there was a businesswoman frantically checking her purse for some missing papers, a teenager smacking his lips while chewing gum, and an elderly man already asleep, drooling.
They all held no significance in the real world. The following announcement came through the plane's speakers:
"Welcome aboard Flight 1000, destined for Canada. The estimated flight time is approximately 12 hours. Please remain seated during the flight."
Aiden felt his stomach drop. His grandma was waiting for him, bedridden after suffering a stroke.
She was on her last legs. This flight was his last chance to say goodbye to her.
"Twelve hours… Is that too long? If I don't reach her in time, I don't know what I'll do."
She was his last remaining family member, the only one who accepted him after he lost everything in a devastating car crash.
He took a deep sigh and decided not to think about that now.
Might as well try out this game I downloaded to kill time on this flight, he thought.
He pulled out his old, cracked phone and his janky wired earbuds—old, but still working.
He launched a game he had been eager to play since boarding the plane:
"1000 Offline Games."
It looked cheap, probably developed by someone on an ad-swarming website, but it served its purpose: wasting time.
"This better work as advertised," he muttered.
The first game opened without issue—just another ordinary Flappy Bird clone with worse graphics and choppy controls.
Still, it was better than nothing.
"I can't believe these clones only get worse over time. Aren't they supposed to improve? The original game is over nine years old now!"
But after about a quarter of an hour, he began to feel bored.
Aiden returned to the menu, intending to try another game.
"Internet connection required."
"What? The title said 'offline.'" He tried relaunching it, but had no luck. "Rip-off," he accidentally muttered, just loud enough for the other passengers to hear.
A few heads turned his way; some smirked, others laughed.
All shared the same intention: mockery. "What are these old folks looking at? Can't they understand a simple mistake?"
He felt frustrated but decided to hold it in.
The Flappy Bird clone had lost its charm after the first run, and there were still 11 hours to go.
He tried to sleep but only succeeded for half an hour.
His limbs felt sore, and his brain refused to cooperate.
Stretching, he lifted the curtain covering the window, letting in a burst of light.
Then, suddenly, a scream pierced through the cabin. "SHUT THE CURTAINS!" a woman yelled.
"THE SUN'S BLINDING MY LITTLE BABY!" A boy, maybe twelve, lay beside her, shrinking in embarrassment as his mom clamped her hand over his head as if he were a toddler.
Aiden cringed at the sight and dropped the curtain in solidarity. "Should've stayed home.
My grandma would've understood," he thought with a bored sigh as he pulled his phone from his pocket.
The same boring app was still open—dull gray menu, no ads, no music, just a plain interface.
But suddenly, the game blinked. A notification appeared, displaying two sentences: "999 Games Remaining. Player ID: 0001 registered."