It had all started so far away, in a country elara had never heard of, much less cared about. She
remembered watching the news with mild disinterest, a fleeting story of a bizarre new movement
among the elite. The reporters were vague at first, nothing more than rumors of a group of wealthy
individuals who had collectively decided to end their lives, each one making a dramatic statement about
the futility of existence. Some called it a philosophical movement, others a cult but no one really paid
that much attention- or maybe she did not pay much attention to anything that happened outside her
bubble. What really stood out was the seer brazenness of it-it was a spectacle, a statement that
reverberated across screens and headlines. The tycoon who started it all, Aaron Manning, was a
billionaire whose face was known in every corner of the world. He'd made his fortune in technology,
always promising to connect people, to make the world a better place. But his final act was a live
streamed event watched by millions- expecting some new gadget announcement but it was a stark and
chilling declaration that life was a meaningless chase for money, power and fleeting happiness. "Why
live when the only certainty is death?" he had said before taking his own life on camera. His death was
the spark that ignited the fire. That gunshot was the starting bell for everything that followed. It was as
if the world exhaled in collective shock, and then, slowly began to unravel. At first, it seemed like just
another rich man's folly, a grotesque performance that would soon be forgotten. But manning's
followers, a mix of disillusioned elites, celebrities and the disenchanted, quickly took up the cause. They
called themselves the vanguard of truth, and their message spread faster than a virus. It was an
insidious infection, spreading through social media, whispered into the minds of those who had already
been teetering on the edge. The first few cases outside manning's circle were sporadic, strange
headlines from distant cities that elara could barely place a map on. A famous actor overdosed In a
lavish hotel room, leaving behind a cryptic note about the futility of existence. A tech mogul drove his
luxury car off a cliff, broadcasting his final moments to millions of followers. And then, like dominions,
the incidents multiplied, reaching new corners of the world, morphing into something far more sinister.
Despite the mass suicide, not everyone bought into the 'cult'. Many had their own lives, unwilling to
follow billionaire's and elite's commands. They sat in silence, watching the world crumble, waiting for
the chaos to pass, like waiting for a storm to quiet. Unaware of the dark future awaiting for them.
Elara's country had remained blissfully ignorant for some time, shielded by distance and a stubborn
belief that what was happening elsewhere would never reach them. But that comfort was short-lived.
She remembered the first local news report about SR reaching their borders. It felt unreal, like a bad
dream. But it was only the beginning.
The world hadn't fallen all at once, the chaos began subtly, like the quiet rumble before an earthquake.
A couple of months after the mass suicides, news outlets reported strange and violent incidents that
seemed unconnected at first- disparate sparks of madness that were dismissed as random acts of violent
or unfortunate accidents. But in clear hindsight's, it was clear that these events were anything but
random. It was a meticulously orchestrated symphony of terror conducted by the billionaires who had
birthed the SR. they called it " the cleansing " though the world would only later realize that this
cleansing was less about purification and more about burning everything down.
The first shock came with the assassination of a beloved president, a leader known for his unwavering
optimism and plans to uplift his struggling nation. One moment, he was delivering a speech to a hopeful
crowd, and the next, his blood was staining the podium. The gunman was a nameless figure, vanishing
into the chaos that erupted in the streets. Panic spread like wildfire, and the president's death marked
the beginning of a wave of assassinations. Political leaders, activist and public figures were
systematically targeted, leaving nations leaderless and in turmoil. The assassins were never caught, and
conspiracy theories flourished, but one thing was clear: this was not the work of lone wolves. It was an
execution of a grand design. Then came the poison. Popular food brands, house hold names that
families trusted, began releasing products that were, not fit – unbeknownst to the public, laced with
contaminants. Bread, milk, even children's snacks-everything was tainted. Reports of severe illnesses
flooded hospitals; entire towns were gripped by a sickness that seemed to strike at random. Factories
were raided, their owners arrested, but no one could trace the true origin of the contamination. People
stopped trusting what they ate, and supermarkets emptied as citizens feared their own groceries could
be their undoing. What was once a comforting routine- shopping, cooking, eating- became a dangerous
gamble. Other bizarre incidents soon followed. Digital infrastructures collapsed under mysterious cyber
attacks that sent financial markets spiraling. Mysterious bombings that were presumed as terrorist
attacks. Energy grids failed without warning, plunging cities into darkness. Planes fell from the sky, their
system suddenly unresponsive. Media outlets reported the disasters breathlessly, each new horror
seemingly unconnected to the last. But elara, like many others, began to feel the dread beneath it all
the sense that someone, somewhere, was pulling strings, orchestrating a global descent into chaos.
And then, one day, the connections became impossible to ignore. The deaths, the food sabotage, the
economic crashes-it was all a deliberate plan of destabilization, designed to shake humanity's faith in its
systems, its leaders and even in itself. The billionaires who had already chosen their path were now
dragging the world into their spiral, pushing society towards a tipping point where the only escape was
the one they had already embraced: suicide. To Elara, this was simply a plague –one that had no cure.
And then came the sweepers.
No one knew exactly when they first appeared, so much was happening that everything including time
and keeping up with all the chaos became a blur. The sweepers were ruthless, faceless enforcers of the
new order, dressed in all black, with masks that concealed their identities. The hunted down those who
refused to "participate" In the revolution, carrying out executions with a cold efficiency that rivaled any
war crime. The message was clear: you either chose to end your life, or the sweepers would do it for
you.
The once vibrant streets of Elara's town soon fell into chaos, as more and more people succumbed to
the madness or fled in terror of the sweepers or transitioned into sweepers themselves.
Now, as she looked around her broken town, Elara felt the weight of the silence, the oppressive
emptiness of a place that had forgotten what it was like to be alive. The SR had taken everything- hope,
joy, the future. It had stolen the world's pulse, leaving behind nothing but the slow decay of a society
that had chosen death over the pain of living.