My name is Ashley Blue Kim.
I'm seventeen years old.
A good boy.
At least… I used to be.
You're probably wondering how I ended up here — lying face-down on a dark street, bleeding out, my breath coming in short, wet gasps.
You want to know what brought me here?
It wasn't bad luck.
It wasn't the gangs.
It wasn't even the aliens.
It was my goodness.
My damn goodness got me here.
But before I tell you how I died, let me tell you about the world I lived in.
We call it Earth-0999.
But to everyone in the galaxy, it's just another pit of livestock.
Our planet — the worst of them all.
Twenty years ago, they came.
The Vorans.
An ancient race known across the stars as the Eaters of Life.
They don't just eat flesh.
They drink your soul.
And humans? Oh, humans are their favorite dish.
They invaded fast and clean. Didn't even need to fight much. Because our rich sold us out before we could even fight back.
This world now has four kinds of people.
The Rich — those who bribe the Vorans to spare their families, living in shining towers above us.
The Government — nothing but cowards who sell their own citizens as food in exchange for alien technology to keep themselves in power.
The Middle Class — struggling to pretend they're safe, while staying just useful enough not to be eaten.
And then there's us.
The Last Class.
Where I come from.
Where you wake up at seven years old and start working because you either pay your tax or get dragged away screaming into the dark.
Where every corner is ruled by gangs because the government doesn't care what happens down here, as long as someone delivers the quota to the Vorans every day.
In my town, the king of the slums is a man called Knyfe.
We all know him.
We all fear him.
Every morning, Knyfe's men round up at least ten unlucky souls from the streets and send them off as payment to the Vorans.
If you don't pay your daily tax — you're next.
And me?
I worked every damn job I could find.
Cleaning gutters, hauling trash, shining shoes, delivering parcels — anything to keep myself and my mom fed and out of Knyfe's reach.
I stayed out of trouble.
Kept my head down.
Never complained.
Helped whoever I could, even when it left me starving.
One time an old man couldn't afford his tax. I gave him the last coin in my pocket.
Because that's what good boys do.
Even when you're an illegitimate son.
Even when everyone laughs at your name.
Even when nobody gives a damn about you.
I never stopped being good.
Until tonight.
Tonight was my third anniversary with my girlfriend.
I wanted to surprise her.
I saved up for months just to buy her a stupid necklace.
When I walked into her room, I froze.
Because there she was…
On the bed.
With my best friend.
At first, I thought I walked into the wrong place. But then they saw me.
And they didn't even flinch.
Didn't even pretend to be ashamed.
I asked them why.
And they laughed.
"You're too good to think you could ever be loved," she said.
"Too good to survive down here," he added.
"Just a fool we used to help with our taxes."
They said it to my face.
Smiling.
I… smiled back.
That's what good boys do.
I wished them luck.
And walked away.
On my way home, I even stopped to help an old man cross the street.
He looked at me, his eyes wide, and said, "Thank you, boy."
I nodded, forcing a small smile.
Then he shot me.
Right in the chest.
The sound of the gunshot rang in my skull as the air left my lungs.
I staggered backward, clutching at the hole, feeling hot blood pour between my fingers.
He knelt down, tore my coins out of my pockets, and whispered, "Sorry, kid. But I've got taxes too."
And then he walked away.
Now here I am.
Lying on the cold ground.
My legs numb.
My vision blurred.
The stars above me dancing and fading.
My fingers tremble as they reach toward nothing.
Every breath feels like knives in my lungs.
All my life, I've been good.
So why does it feel like the whole world has been waiting to crush me?
Why does doing good only get you killed?
Nobody ever helped me or my mom.
Not once.
They only used us.
And now here I am — alone, dying, forgotten.
If anyone out there is listening…
Just one chance.
Give me one more chance.
And I swear — I'll show this rotten world that I can be just as bad as them.
No… worse.
The darkness creeps in now.
I feel my heart slowing.
This… this is how it ends.
Or so I thought.
A faint blue glow flickers above me, cutting through the black.
A screen.
Like the ones in the comic books I used to sell at the store.
Letters form slowly, glowing cold and bright.
WELCOME, USER.
You have been heard.
Touch THIS BUTTON FOR A SECOND CHANCE.
ACCEPT / DECLINE
Warning: There will be consequences.
My blood runs colder than the ground beneath me.
My breath comes in shaky gasps.
My arm… lifts on its own.
My fingers hover just above the glowing ACCEPT button.
For the first time in my life, I don't smile.
For the first time in my life, I feel alive.
If this is a dream, I don't care anymore.
My lips curl into something sharp — something I've never felt before.
And I touch it.