Earth Year 2211, June 10.
In a bustling city, there's a small apartment complex with three stories. Outside, it's quite lively. People walk along the side of the road, most of them wearing tightly sealed masks to keep the toxic air from entering their systems.
A loud group had gathered nearby, carrying signs that read: STOP THE USE OF AETHER.
Yes, they're protesting. Because in this era, humanity has found a new energy source that had always been around—Aether. With it, almost everything is now powered by Aether. It's so reliable that a single triple-A battery can power an average home for a week.
They harness this energy through something similar to a nuclear power plant. And although a single power plant like this is enough to power an entire city, it has a pretty bad side effect.
That side effect was discovered two years after the launch of this power plant. The issue? The air became... toxic. People who got exposed to it long enough began suffering terrible symptoms: severe fever, pounding headaches, intense body pain, and in the worst-case scenario—a slow, agonizing death.
"For fuck's sake, SHUT UPPP! I CAN'T SLEEEP!" shouted a voice from one of the apartment rooms. A man angrily sat up from his bed and threw a pillow at the window, madly gripping his head with both hands.
But he knew there was nothing he could do. Not only could the protestors likely not hear him from here, he doubted those insane maniacs would even listen to his words. The government had been telling them off for years now—to no avail.
'I guess I'll just sleep later... fuck... I should've just slept last night instead of staying up until the morning.'
Inching to the edge of the bed, he sat there for a few minutes, unmoving, just contemplating life and regretting every recent choice that led to this moment.
After mentally arguing with himself that it is what it is, he finally stood and walked into the living room. He turned on the TV and began cooking a meal while half-listening to the news. As he passed by the couch, he realized he hadn't cleaned up the mess from last night's gaming session. Trash was everywhere. Even his console controller was still strewn around the couch.
He sighed to himself and ignored the clutter, instead focusing on making something to eat—lest he collapse from hunger and die.
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"—A new breakthrough in Aether technologies has been achieved, making cosmic travel possible in an estimated time of four years! This marks a new chapter in humanity's success and perseverance!"
The sound of the TV in the background kept the quiet room from feeling completely isolated.
"—In other news, panic is starting to spread as strange rumors about the Aether Power Plant continue to gain traction. Is this the work of the human mind? Or is there some truth behind the whispers? Let's take a deeper look—"
Meanwhile, the man continued cooking in the kitchen. He wasn't really paying attention to the news—he found most of it boring. He wasn't a left-winger or a right-winger. He wasn't woke or into conspiracies or any of that. He was proudly one of those who belonged to the IDGAF community of gamers and meme lords.
He poured a bowl of beaten eggs into the frying pan. The oil roared as it came into contact with the egg. And since there wasn't much to do but wait for it to cook, the young man turned his attention to the TV to pass the time.
"—11 hours ago, strange phenomena have been spotted around almost all Aether Power Plants. This has been recorded by th—"
Suddenly, the broadcast was cut off with a static-laced message: "We'll be right back."
After a few moments, the channel returned—but it wasn't the same news.
It was a live recording, seemingly from a helicopter hovering over one of the Aether Power Plants. On the ground, police, military, and even the FBI were present. Sci-fi-looking machines had been positioned around a strange rift, while individuals in hazmat suits moved about cautiously.
The young man's eyes widened as he watched the camera zoom in on what lay beneath.
There was a crack—not just in the earth, but in the very air itself.
A crack in space?
In reality?
Whatever it was, it gave him a very bad feeling.
And just as that thought crossed his mind—
"—This space rift appeared exactly two hours ago. Authorities have stationed military personnel to monitor the event. Our team still has no idea what it is. Could it be a military experiment? A new breakthrough? Or... a bad omen?"
As if on cue, the rift shimmered.
Then a blur darted past the camera.
Next thing he knew, the helicopter spiraled out of control. Reporters screamed as the chopper twisted violently.
It was about to crash.
But something caught it midair.
The last image the camera captured was a large, reptilian mouth filled with jagged, razor-sharp teeth.
Then the screen froze.
A few seconds later, a red message appeared:
[Lost Connection]
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The smell of burning egg started filling the room.
But that wasn't important right now. What he know is he definitely should leave this place right now..
Moving quickly, he turned off the stove and rushed into his room. He grabbed a bag and began stuffing it with clothes and essentials—like his phone.
He quickly slung it over his back and stepped back out into the living room.
The TV now displayed a red screen flashing: Evacuation Alert.
And then—his heart sank deeper.
The chilling sound of the national Emergency Alert System began blaring through the city's speakers.
"Fuck! Fuck! What's happening?!"
He didn't waste time. Putting on a mask that hangs near the door he began moving.
He ran out of his apartment. He saw his neighbors scrambling, hurriedly packing suitcases with food and supplies—but who gives a shit about them?
He sprinted down the stairs and out the front door of the apartment complex.
Outside, the streets were chaos.
Everyone was running. All running away from something.
'But why?' he asked himself.
And he sure as hell didn't want to find out so he just ran with them.
Suddenly, he felt a gush of air pass by his cheek. A sharp whoosh followed it.
Something clattered ahead of him on the ground.
He looked.
A rusted metal spear.
His blood went cold.
Someone just tried to impale him?
"Hell no! HELL NO!" he screamed internally, bolting into a full sprint.
Then came a weird, high-pitched guttural scream.
"Screeh!! Guuuruu aaaargh!"
'What the fuck is that?' he thought.
Turning his head for a quick glance—just one peek—
Behind him, a figure.
Small. Humanoid.
Green skin. Pointed ears. The ugliest face he'd ever seen.
'A g-goblin?!'
His mind reeled. He'd seen creatures like this in games, movies, and fantasy stories.
Before he could process it—
Thunk!
Something struck his chest.
A burning pain bloomed instantly.
He stumbled and dropped to his knees.
Blood surged out from a wound in his chest—a rusted spear embedded deep.
"W-What the fuck? Wh—"
"ARRRGH!! IT HUURTS!"
Adrenaline flooded him. He looked around in a panic.
Ahead—more goblins.
One sneered, pulled its arm back, and hurled another spear.
He tried to move.
Too slow.
The second spear struck him in the abdomen.
The force threw him backward.
He landed flat on the cracked road.
'Huh? Wh-what happened? I... I was about to run...'
He blinked rapidly.
This had to be a dream. He was probably still asleep after staying up all night playing Dark Souls 4.
Yeah... that made sense.
It had to be a dream.
Right?
But everything felt too real. The pain. The smell. The fear.
He was really dying.
Tears formed in his eyes.
A shadow loomed above him.
Another goblin, grinning wildly.
It drove its spear straight into his lower chest—piercing his liver.
Then it turned away, laughing as it left him to die.
He tried to scream, but only a wet gurgle came out.
He was choking on his own blood.
He was dying.
His vision dimmed as he saw a massive shadow fly overhead.
Then everything exploded.
Buildings crumbled.
Flames erupted.
People screamed.
Corpses lined the cracked, broken streets.
The sky had turned red, the sun completely hidden behind plumes of black smoke. The air was thick with the scent of burning flesh and floating ashes.
The bleeding man coughed more blood as his eyes began to close.
'Ah... it hurts. It hurts so bad...'
'Anyone... help... I—I don't want to die...'
'I'll do anything... please...'
He begged the darkening sky, pleading for survival. For a miracle.
And then—
A bright line appeared in front of him.
A transparent text box, floating in mid-air.
[Ding! Your wishes have been heard!]
[A distant force calls upon your soul.]
[Do you accept?]
▸ [Yes] ▢ [No]
He didn't know what was happening. His dying mind was already slipping away. His heart had stopped several seconds ago.
He thought it was a hallucination. But even in that haze, with fading hope...
"Yes," he whispered.
Then a bright flash filled his vision—
—and everything faded to black.
Matthew Magnus, at the age of 17, finally died.
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