The alarm rang repeatedly for almost 30 minutes, but Fave was still sleeping, no matter how many times he snoozed it. The alarm rang every five minutes. The sound drilled into his ears, stopped, then came back again like it had a personal grudge against him. Fave finally woke up, sat up on his bed, and stared at the window, wishing it was dark and not bright so he could continue sleeping. The light slipping through the curtain felt offensive. Then he checked his phone and saw 7:40.
His heart skipped.
"Fuck."
He threw the blanket aside and jumped out of bed. He rushed to the bathroom, turned on the shower, and stepped in. 2 minutes. That was all he gave himself. Water hit his shoulders, ran down his back, and was gone. No thinking. No standing there. Just in and out.
He didn't even get to brush his teeth. He poured mouthwash into his mouth, the sharp sting making his eyes squeeze shut, and began pulling on his pants with one hand. He spat foam into the sink, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and dragged a white T-shirt over his head.
He looked at himself in the mirror. His hair stood up like it had its own opinion. He pressed it down with his palm, then both hands. It refused to cooperate. He exhaled through his nose.
"Good enough."
He grabbed his bag, slipped his phone into his pocket, and left his one-room apartment without looking back. The moment he stepped outside, he checked his phone again. 7:50.
10 minutes.
He unlocked his bicycle and began pedaling. Fast at first. Then steady. His face carried the same dull look it always did in the mornings. Wind brushed against his cheeks. Cars passed. People walked. He moved through them like he was not really part of it.
Fave's life had always been like this. Alarm. Bathroom. Work. Repeat. Even his thoughts felt rehearsed.
He never seemed to find any fun in living. It was not dramatic. It was just there. A quiet heaviness sitting in his chest every morning when he opened his eyes.
His daily routine was his nightmare. A loop. An endless one with stages.
School was where it became clear. The bell ringing. Teachers talking. Homework piling up. He remembered staring at the classroom clock, watching the second hand crawl. He never understood why he was meant to go to school. When he asked his creators, they told him the same thing everyone said.
"You have to go to school to have a brighter future, so you can earn money and live a comfortable life."
Brighter future.
He held onto those words for years. Through exams. Through sleepless nights. Through mornings where his eyes burned but he still put on his uniform. Wake up. Freshen up. Have breakfast. Go to school. Again. Again. Again. Eighteen years. Just like that.
After college, what came next
A job.
He remembered the first day he sat in an office chair. The excitement lasted maybe one hour. After that it felt familiar.
Sit on a chair. Do some stupid shit you learned in school. Click. Type. Answer emails. Smile at people you do not care about. Wait for lunch. Wait for closing time.
The only difference was he was getting paid and not the one paying.
When he calculated how long he would have to keep doing this, how many years it would take before he could rest without guilt, something inside him felt tired in advance. 60 years of this. Maybe more if he lived long.
Sometimes while pedaling to work, he would ask himself what the reason for his existence was. Not in a dramatic way. Just quietly. Like a genuine question.
If this was how life was, he would never recommend it. Given life. Live by society's standards to survive the life you never asked for. Then the life is taken.
If only there was another way of living.
He reached the office building and locked his bicycle. He checked his phone once more before stepping inside. 7:59.
"You are late," his manager said immediately.
Fave did not answer. He simply raised his phone and showed the time. 7:59.
The manager's lips tightened. Fave walked past him with a small sneer he did not bother hiding. The rules clearly stated that one should resume before 8:01. He always came at 8 on the dot or one minute before. Just to prove he could.
He sat at his desk. Turned on his computer. The screen glowed. Emails waited. Tasks waited. The clock moved. Hours passed in pieces. Click. Type. Stand. Sit. Eat. Click again.
When it was finally time to go home, his shoulders loosened slightly. Back to his bed. Back to sleep. The only part of the day that felt like his.
On his way home, he stopped at the convenience store. He picked up cookies and a bottle of fruit juice, that was his dinner.
When he stepped outside and reached for his bicycle, he noticed an old woman by the roadside. She held a basket close to her chest. Cars rushed past her. No one slowed down.
Fave sighed quietly and walked over. He stood beside her, waited for a gap in traffic, and guided her across. Her hand felt light in his. When they reached the other side, he nodded and turned to leave.
She grabbed his wrist gently. Before he could react, she placed an apple in his palm.
"No, I don't want it. Thank you," he said, trying to return it.
"You have been a very good boy, lad. This apple will be your pass to infinity," she said.
Her eyes lingered on him for a second longer than normal. Then she walked away.
Fave stood there holding the apple. A pass to what?
He shook his head and dropped it into his grocery bag. People said strange things all the time. He had no energy to think about it.
Back home, he ate his cookies and drank his juice. After that, he properly bathed and brushed his teeth this time. The water ran warmer than in the morning. Slower. No rush. He checked his laptop for office files. None. Good.
He lay on his bed and opened his phone. He played Shadow of Death. The dark screen, the sound of blades, the feeling of clearing a level. It felt better than answering emails. Then he switched to Infinity Loop. Connecting lines. Completing patterns. Quiet satisfaction.
Time slipped by without him noticing. When his eyes started to close on their own, he locked his phone and stood up. He checked his door once. Then again. He turned the knob slightly to be sure. Locked.
He did not want burglars breaking in. He did not want surprises.
Finally, he lay down.
Sleeping was his best hobby. Something he would rather do than work. If sleeping was a job, by now Fave would be richer than Elon Musk.
He closed his eyes, then came 🛌.
Then, sometime in the middle of the night, he opened them again. His throat felt dry. He sat up slowly and walked to the sink for water. That was when he saw someone sitting on his desk chair. His breath caught.
The figure was dressed in black. Still. Watching. In his hand was a staff shaped like a scythe or maybe a long axe. The blade curved on both sides.
Fave froze.
"What the fuck are you, and how did you get into my house?"
The man crossed his legs calmly and pointed toward the bed.
Fave turned. His body lay there. Peaceful. Eyes closed. Chest unmoving. For a second, his mind refused to understand. Then it did.
He was dead.
The realization did not come with screaming. It came quietly. Like everything else in his life.
He stared at his own face.
"So this is the brighter future we were promised," he said softly. "We didn't even get to finish the levels in Shadow of Death, huh?"
He looked back at the figure.
"So, Mr. Reaper, you are here for my soul."
The Grim Reaper stood and extended his hand toward Fave.
Before their hands could touch, a bright light burst from the corner of the room. It came from the trash can. A sparkling glow filled the air. Something floated upward. The apple. The same apple he had thrown away.
It rose gently and moved toward him. The light wrapped around his fingers as it settled in his hands.
The Grim Reaper vanished. Just like that. Fave stared at the apple.
Then a voice echoed from it.
"You have been chosen for eternity and will live on."
His grip tightened.
"What? No. If I go back to that body, I will still live a miserable life. A miserable loop. I don't want to live a life where I have to wake up and be human. Human life sucks. It's boring and frustrating. I would rather be asleep or dead than be human."
"Will you let me finish talking, lad?"
He swallowed.
"Okay. Go ahead."
"You will be asleep forever, in between death and life. You will play for me for eternity."
"What does that mean?"
"Young lad, if you say a word, I will return you to your body, and you will continue to live your pathetic life for infinity."
Silence filled the room.
"I am the Creator. You will be my player and play all my games for infinity. The game will never end. You will play until the death of my Creator."
A floating panel appeared in front of him.
[Accept / Decline]
Fave stared at it. No office. No alarm. No manager. Just games.
"Are you choosing or not?" the voice asked.
"Oh, you want me to say a word? Accept. I accept, as long as I don't have to go back to that body."
The panel disappeared. The apple vanished.
"Congratulations, lad. You are the first player of my never-ending game. In 30 seconds, you will be transmigrated into your first game. Before the game starts, the rules will be given to you."
Fave looked at his lifeless body one last time. No regret. No fear. Just quiet relief.
And after 30 seconds, Fave disappeared into the unknown.