The night was electric.
Above, a blanket of stars shimmered in the clear evening sky, while below, the streets pulsed with life. Neon signs buzzed softly overhead. Warm lanterns hung from wires, swaying with the wind. Laughter, footsteps, and the sizzle of hot oil filled the air like music in motion.
Both sides of the road were lined with food stalls—makeshift heavens of flavor and flame. The scent of grilled barbecue mingled with the sweet chill of ice cream, the buttery scent of popcorn, the spice of shawarma, and the tang of sizzling street tacos. Smoke danced through the crowd as vendors shouted out their best deals, metal spatulas clanged against woks, and beer flowed like a celebration.
This was the city's beating heart on weekends—its most beloved food hub.
Among the crowd, three young adults strolled together, laughing and nudging each other through the bustle. Sid, Ethan, and Dianna. A trio bound not just by friendship, but by stress, study, and shared cravings—college students on a well-earned break.
Sid walked with his hands in his pockets, calm and composed. His eyes, soft and narrowed with quiet charm, lingered on a vendor tossing golden fried rice high into the air. Fire roared beneath the wok, casting flickers of orange across Sid's thoughtful face. He smiled faintly, his voice smooth and low like velvet under moonlight.
"I think I'll go with braised beef... and that golden fried rice. What about you two?"
"Just that?" Ethan barked, striding beside him with a swagger that turned heads. His grin was wild, shark-like, and stretched beneath mischievous eyes. His skin glowed a perfect bronze under the warm lights, and though he looked like a brute straight from a gladiator pit, there was something magnetic about his over-the-top energy.
He pointed recklessly across the stalls, spinning like a hungry compass.
"That! No—THAT one! Wait—ooh, corndogs! And shawarma! And is that a freakin' triple cheeseburger?! I want all of it!"
He threw his head back and laughed so loud a flock of birds took flight from a nearby tree.
Dianna sighed, trailing behind them. She carried herself like royalty among commoners—shoulders straight, chin poised, and eyes half-lidded in judgment. Everything about her was elegance. Her figure, graceful and well-proportioned, turned as many heads as Ethan's volume did.
"I've been craving barbecue and beer since yesterday," she said with a cool, sultry voice that could turn a debate into a surrender. "I'll grab it myself. And I'll get yours too, you loud boar. But watch our things at that table or I'll toss you on the grill."
Ethan puffed up in protest, "What?! Why do I—Fine! But bring me all the meat you can carry! And you're paying or I swear I'll—"
Dianna's glare silenced him.
"…Thanks, Dianna," he muttered.
"What-ever, moron," she shot back, already striding off.
Sid chuckled at their usual banter and disappeared into the food stalls too.
---
A few minutes later, the table was a battlefield of plates and trays. Juicy meats, fried rice, chicken wings, tacos, and ice cream cups—an edible chaos. Beers clinked, laughter rang, and the three friends sat elbow to elbow, feasting like royalty.
"Daaamn," Dianna muttered after a long swig, letting out an unfiltered burp. "That hit the spot."
Sid smiled quietly, savoring a spoonful of rice, "Easy on the drinks. You two are wild enough already."
Ethan slammed his beer down so hard the table trembled. "This is what I'm TALKING about!" he roared, brandishing a greasy chicken wing like a trophy. "Oh YEAH!"
Dianna grabbed him by the collar, fire in her eyes. "Sit DOWN, idiot! You almost spilled my beer!"
Ethan cackled, chugged more beer, and declared, "Chicken wings rule, baby!!"
Dianna rolled her eyes and gave up, chugging her own beer with flair. "You're not worth the headache…"
As they raced to see who could finish their drink first, Sid leaned back with a soft smile on his face, eyes half-closed in contentment. For him, the night didn't need more noise, more beer, or even more food. That fried rice in his bowl? It was pure bliss.
For a moment, nothing mattered. The world was warm, bright, full of flavor and laughter.
Just another Friday night.
---
Then—
SCREEECH!
A metal scream shattered the air. Tires skidded. Screams rose. And before any of them could turn around—
BAM!
A ten-wheeler truck—brakes failed, engine howling—veered off the road and plowed through the tables.
There was no time to run.
No time to react.
Only a blinding flash of headlights and the roar of crumpling steel.
Blood painted the pavement.
Dianna died on the spot, crushed instantly. Sid was thrown into a concrete wall, skewered by rebar like broken puppetry. Ethan gasped, still conscious, his vision spinning as he saw his friends—unmoving, broken, gone.
"N-no… Dianna… Sid…" he whispered, reaching out with trembling fingers.
Then he looked down.
His legs were missing.
Everything below his waist was gone.
His arm dropped. His vision faded.
Darkness.
---
Silence.
Ethan floated in the abyss.
Nothing above. Nothing below.
Only the terrifying sensation of falling—endlessly. The void swallowed every thought except one:
Where am I?!
He screamed. But there was no echo. No wind. No light.
Until—
A glimmer.
A light in the distance, growing brighter, racing toward him like a meteor.
THUMP.
He hit the ground.
Groaning, Ethan pushed himself upright. His body felt weak—too heavy, too strange. He blinked, adjusting to the sudden brightness.
He was in a white room. Clean. Empty. Endless.
Then, from beyond the silence, a voice echoed like thunder wrapped in silk:
"Welcome, Travellers…."
---