[In just an hour, the world ends!]
Words echoed, cutting through the stillness of a dim room.
There was a young person sitting in the middle of the darkness. His well-defined, sharp face was lit by the glaring monitor. Faint vibrations on his pale skin resonated as the soft leather wrapped around his ears, separating him from the world around.
His brown hair fell inside his vision as his head remained still.
After the words came, a lingering sensation reached him. Unable to identify the source of disruption in his body, he faintly glanced at his screen with vacant eyes, watching as the little sound wave icon, diagonally under his character picture, pulsed for several seconds, until the voice vanished from his ears.
[…Huh? What do you… mean?] A young person's voice resonated.
The person from before responded.
[I got the news from my neighbor. His wife told him on the phone that she and her son had run away from something. That's all I got before he left to warn the others.]
Some might find it hard to believe the absurdity in all that. The day was just like any other; a peaceful Saturday in the middle of Fall—though it could've been Friday. Whatever day it was, it seemed like another uneventful one, where the biggest concern was to decide how long someone should sit in front of their computer before their lack of exercise would start to show signs on their hunched backs.
[Huh?]
Someone else joined, huffing in irritation.
[What the hell ya tryin' to ignore the past day for, huh? Are ya that frightened ya forgot 'bout everythin'?] he said gruffly.
A fourth person joined.
[Be more understanding of us, ok? Even if we heard the news yesterday, that won't change the fact that no one thought it was real. Can you really blame any of us for not taking the announcement seriously?]
A faint buzzing sound followed.
He spoke into the microphone. [Ya have the guts to say this!? Ya gotta be kidding me! 'Didn't know?' Don't ya dare give me this crap. Ya all knew. That's why ya're here. Ya'd be long gone if not for that bullshit.]
Many had left way before the last hour was ever mentioned. Those who stayed were the few who were still there playing, despite all the chaos happening outside.
The person who tried to defend the others didn't respond.
Only silence filled the room.
For seconds, nobody said anything.
Eventually, that silence dissipated as his voice returned.
[You said that everybody who cared about the end had already left. Correct me if I am wrong, but for me, I take this as that you don't care enough to leave the call?]
[…]
He didn't say anything back.
His profile picture disappeared, leaving a small text behind.
Player_2 left the game.
[Huh, so this is your response then?]
[What can we do now...?] asked the youngest. [If…If the world is ending in less than an hour… then, what…what should we…do!?]
Having found out the end was near, the uneasiness in the atmosphere started to manifest inside the hearts of some.
Before anyone could've said anything, the person who shared the news about the end spoke up.
[There's only one way,] he declared.
Moments later, a small text appeared at the bottom left of the screen.
Player_56 left the game.
He left too.
There were only four now inside the channel.
The youngest followed.
[I have to go… Bye. I wish for you a—]
The line was abruptly cut, leaving behind the message.
Player_1 left the game.
Only three remained.
[You guys…] The person from before spoke up as though in hesitation. [Don't you two want to leave?]
There was no response from either of them. Both of their mics were turned off. Only their character moved rapidly on the screen. Guns were constantly aiming at the sandy terrain, waiting for the other to peek out from behind a cover.
The score was even.
It was a free-for-all, so they didn't need to worry about all the other players disrupting the flow of their battle with their own scores. Though other than the two of them, all the others had lower points even before leaving.
[Hello?]
The person tried to reach them, but it was futile.
When ten or so seconds had passed, he sighed, turning off the mic.
Eventually, the text appeared.
Player_7 left the game.
Now, only the two were there.
Neither of them spoke nor thought of anything other than winning.
As much as that desire was burning in him, though, there can be only one.
One triumphs, the other loses. It was always like that.
Even as much as he wanted to be the one who wouldn't lose, that wish had shattered the moment he found his character lying on the ground, motionless.
He lost. The person on the other side won.
Gazing at the center of his screen, the big, bold, capitalized letters burned into his retina.
DEFEAT
His eyelids descended, covering most of the screen. The text was no longer visible. Two smaller boxes replaced the lower quarter.
A second passed. Second turned into several. Several eventually reached almost half a minute, but before it could, another message appeared at the bottom.
Player_0 left the game.
He was the only one now, still gazing at his monitor with his almost closed eyes. All he did was stare with a blank face while he rapidly switched between the two options.
Multiple times, his hand moved to one of the boxes, just to then slowly swipe the mouse back to the middle.
As he looked at the fading text of Player_0, a sudden urge to turn his head to the right, where his window lay, reached him.
The walls were faintly lit by his monitor, painting them dark gray. Half of his vision was tainted by the white glare, while the other half was swimming in darkness. All he could see was the blinds covering the world outside from him.
His head returned, slowly.
After a blink or two, he had decided.
The cursor moved to the right. Click.
Defeat screen—Gone. The screen darkened, fading to black. At the main menu, the mouse moved to the 'exit to desktop' option.
He sighed, pushing down the button.
Click.
The menu screen was immediately replaced by a void-like color, as though he'd accidentally turned the power button off. The only difference from a pitch-black screen and that background he had was a thin gray bar at the bottom and some colored icons on it.
One of the icons was a random app. It was used to record whatever thoughts he had before they would leave his mind.
He gazed at its white icon as though he couldn't ignore it.
A couple of arrow-shaped clumps of white pixels moved across the blackness, stopping at the white document at the bottom.
Few seconds later, a smaller window appeared.
On the top left side of the small rectangle, next to a smaller icon of the document, the name of the file was shown:
Story ideas_20
Blinking one, he clicked.
Immediately, his face glowed white.
At the top middle of the screen, only the title was there:
LOST:Faceless
Below that text, a thin black line appears and vanishes every second.
He scrolled down.
Not even a second later, he reached the bottom.
He sighed and closed the program.
His hand moved the mouse to the left side near the bottom—but stopped.
He glanced back at the document on the bar.
He sighed again
A few seconds later, a panel popped up. But unlike before, the size of this one was taller and narrower.
The cursor hovered over the text: Unpin from taskbar
Click.
He looked back at the left corner of his screen.
From where he was, he no longer felt trapped by his indecisiveness. Now that the threat that would've kept him bound to his computer was neutralized, without further hesitation, he moved his mouse to the power icon. Click. The panel popped up; the 'shut down' option was chosen.
The fans spinning stopped, killing the buzzing sound that filled the room.
Nothing was there. Other than his light breathing and his occasional body movement, the whole atmosphere felt as though he were in outer space.
Sitting in his chair with a slouched posture, he spotted his face on a small card with his name on it.
An open black wallet at the right edge of his desk with some yen bills poking out, and the card he saw lay before him. Eyes closed slowly, then lifted. Eyelids settling over the top of his irises. His right hand moved to the right side of his desk. Leaning closer, he extended his arm, almost reaching it. Digging under the wallet, he closed it. His hand swept across the mouse pad as he slowly pulled it back.
When his hand no longer touched the table, he got up.
Chair squeaked.
With a sluggish movement, he kicked away some of the empty noodle cups and collapsed on his bed. It cracked from the impact, though he continued to lie there, unbothered by the possibility of breaking some of the slats.
Lifting his head, he tried to decipher the time from the thin gaps between his blinds.
A light flickered, squeezing itself through.
For a few seconds, he kept his head fixed on the window, and when he realized it was still bright outside, he leaned back, putting his head back on the pillow.
His eyes closed. Though, he wasn't tired. Not physically.
A sense of calmness entered his body. His fingers relaxed as they lay on the soft cushion. From his lungs, air surfaced with no tension forming in his throat. He loosened his back and embraced the comfort the mattress provided.
While he was lying in his bed, the darkness he saw brightened.
On the left side, something started vibrating.
He lifted his eyes.
A bright light illuminated the dark ceiling, painting it the same as the four walls surrounding him.
He shifted his head to the side.
Before him, the source of the intense light seeped through a small gap.
On the left edge of the table, his phone faced down, shone invasively. The vibration was still trapped inside his ears, echoing through his mind.
The calmness was gone. Breathing unstable.
One of his hands twitched as his fingers began to form a tense fist.
His hand moved to his stomach, pressing hard against the soft cushion.
Lifting his body, he sat up, his feet touching the ground.
He glanced at the phone. The light didn't disappear. The vibration was still loudly bursting into his ears.
He inhaled and got up.
In the heat of the moment, he didn't watch where he stepped and slammed his right pinkie into one of the boxes stacked on his floor. He stopped, gazing down at the floor where the box was. His mouth curled neither high nor low. Not even a chuckle. All he did was keep his mouth in the same position he always had as he casually slipped into his crocs.
Hovering over his phone, his hands were unable to remain steady. All he was thinking about was the inevitable action he must take: to pick up the phone.
He didn't do that and was hoping that the call would eventually end.
He waited, motionless.
Tilting his head to his hands. Every now and then, a small dose of air got out.
Minutes had passed, but the phone was still ringing.
He thought that whoever was calling would've stopped reaching him by now, but the person was persistent.
His pupils were contracted. Breathing uneven.
The phone didn't stop.
When he realized the call wasn't going to end, he lifted the phone.
The caller's name displayed in all capital letters:
MOM
His fingers didn't move.
The ring was only on for a bit. He felt as though it was more than that, but after realizing how much time had really passed, his heart skipped a beat.
Palm hovered over the red phone icon, drifted back and forth between them, finally deciding to press green.
He inhaled, then pushed it.
After the call was on, he took off his headset and raised the phone to his right ear.
[H…Hello?]
A familiar yet distant voice; static and fragmented. The speakers could barely pick it up, leaving a crackling sound behind.
[Are you there…?]
No answer.
The only indication that he was there was his quiet breathing.
Upon hearing that, she continued to try reaching him.
[Is that…really you…?] In the background, her sniffing could be heard as she tried to contain herself.
He didn't say a word. Only holding the phone to his ear as he placed it to his earlobe and lightly touched it. His arm pressed against his side, pushing his shirt to his skin.
[Finally, you…you picked it up… I-I'm so glad,] she mumbled.
[Wh-Where are you!?] A sudden rush of urgency welled up in her. [I-I was trying to reach you… I went to your apartment, but...]
After all that time, that voice reached him again. A voice he could hardly recall as real. And even when he heard it, he didn't say a thing.
His mouth opened a little. His lips were separated enough to squeeze something out.
Nothing came.
Only the quietness of his breath through his nostrils filled the air.
Half of his face glowed in the screen's light as he tracked the tiny specks floating in his vision.
[...door was locked… Were you there…? Are you even… home?]
She tried to communicate, though the need for those feelings wasn't mutual.
After not hearing her son's voice for so long, she was hoping they could go back to the days when they were living under the same roof.
That wish remained distant.
Even so, her desire to reach him didn't cease. She tried with everything she still had to find what she had lost.
[Did…Did you hear the announcement…? About the end of the world?]
End of the world? He heard that. Still didn't make sense though.
He remembered getting a bunch of messages from all kinds of social media sites, but he never bothered to check them out.
[I'm heading to your location!] she said as the shoes clicking against the floor burst into his ears. [I'm going to be there soon.] The sound of metal colliding like small bells leaked through the static noise.
With a blank face, he stared at his reflection from his monitor.
[…I'm...ok…where...place...]
The woman was still on the phone, trying to reach him. But he wasn't listening to her voice anymore. He could barely even hear from all the things happening inside.
[…can...me…hell—]
Without another word, he ended the call.
She called back, but he switched his phone to airplane mode. Before he did, though, he checked the exact time left before the world ends.
00:57:22