Five individuals stood alone in their own vast, empty white voids, each facing a blue screen hovering before them. The silence pressed against their eardrums like cotton wool, broken only by the soft hum of otherworldly energy. They didn't know what was happening, only that the answers they desperately needed lay behind the cold, digital interface floating just out of arm's reach.
---
Ethan Carter stared at the screen, his work boots planted wide on the non-existent floor. Grease still clung to his fingernails from the morning shift, and his hi-vis vest bore the accumulated stains of a dozen different jobs. He'd always been the type to act first and think later, but this—whatever this was—required some thought.
"Right then," he muttered.
He fired off questions like rounds from a shotgun, each one blunt and direct:
"How far can I take my wish? Are there limits?"
Your wish can only affect yourself, the earth, or humanity as a whole.
"Can I wish for multiple things at once, or is it just one?"
One wish per person.
"What happens if I don't make a wish at all?"
Nothing.
Ethan grunted, processing the answers. No obvious loopholes or shortcuts. Just one shot at changing everything.
"Bloody hell," he breathed. The weight of it settled on his shoulders like a loaded barbell. He'd make it count, he always did when it mattered.
---
Meanwhile, Lily Everett couldn't stand still. The adrenaline from her morning run hadn't fully faded, and now it mixed with something closer to panic. She bounced on the balls of her feet, her mind racing faster than her pulse.
"Wait, wait," she said, hands gesturing rapidly. "So other people get the same chance? How many exactly?"
All humans have received the same opportunity.
Her stomach dropped. She pressed a hand to her mouth, then pulled it away to ask another question, words tumbling out faster now:
"What about kids? Do children get wishes too? What's the age limit?"
No age limit, if they can communicate a desire it will be granted.
"Can people wish for others to die? Like, specifically target someone?"
No.
"What happens if someone wishes for the world to end?"
Then it will end.
Each answer only made the pit in her stomach deepen. This wasn't just about her anymore—it was about navigating the collective madness of humanity that would be unleashed. She hugged her arms around herself, trying to think of what could possibly make things better instead of catastrophically worse.
---
In his section of the void, Walter Greaves maintained an upright posture. His hands remained clasped behind his back, his weathered face betraying nothing of the careful calculations running through his mind. Decades of teaching had taught him that the right questions often mattered more than the answers.
He began methodically:
"Does magic exist in our world?"
If it is wished for, it shall.
"What is the fundamental nature of this place?"
You don't need to know that.
Walter nodded slowly, filing away each response. Then he shifted to deeper territory:
"What is the meaning of life?"
Life is what you make of it.
A faint smile touched his lips.
"Will there be consequences for making selfish wishes versus altruistic ones?"
No.
"Are you planning to judge humanity based on what we choose?"
Yes, but only privately.
"What happens if people's wishes conflict with each other?"
They will cancel out.
Walter closed his eyes briefly. The entity spoke of choices and consequences with the detached certainty of natural law.
---
Maria Thompson had always been the practical one in her family, the one who remembered to pay bills and check insurance policies. Now, facing the current strange situation, she sought to better understand what was possible.
She folded her arms, studying the screen.
"What exactly are the limits of the questions I can ask? And can you offer guidance on wishes?"
There are no clearly defined limits to the questions, ask and will either get an answer or you won't. I can offer limited guidance from the stance of humanity as a whole.
Good. She could work with limited guidance.
"If I give you an example wish, can you tell me the potential consequences?"
Yes.
"Can wishes be undone or modified after they're made?"
No.
"Will we know when everyone has finished making their wishes?"
You will be sent back once all wishes have been made.
She exhaled slowly. The logistics were as terrifying as the concept itself. No takesies-backsies, no coordination between eight billion decision-makers, no way to know when the gun would fire.
"Can you show me what the world might look like after all wishes are granted?"
Yes.
---
Victor Langley approached the situation like a business negotiation. This entity—whatever it was—had rules, which meant it had structure. Structure could be analysed and exploited. He'd built his career on finding advantages others missed.
"Can we see what others wish for?"
Not directly.
Blind bidding. Interesting. That changed the strategic landscape entirely.
"Can wishes affect the past, or only the present and future?"
The past is untouchable.
Victor's mind was already working three moves ahead. If everyone else was thinking defensively, there might be opportunities for someone thinking offensively.
"What happens if I make a wish that indirectly counters someone else's?"
Then their wish will become null.
"Are there any wishes that would give someone power over this process itself?"
No.
"Can you tell me the most common types of wishes humans typically make in situations like this?"
Money, power, lifespan.
He felt a cold smile pull at his lips. Information was power, and power was survival. If he played this right, he could position himself to thrive regardless of what chaos everyone else unleashed.
But as Victor formulated his next question, a thought struck him—one that cut through his thoughts like a blade. What if the real trap wasn't in the wishing, but in thinking he could outsmart eight billion other people who were just as desperate to survive as he was?
---
In their separate voids, the five continued their questioning, each approaching the impossible task ahead in their own ways.
None of them knew that their questions were shaping not just their own understanding, but their eventual convergence toward choices that would intertwine their fates in ways they couldn't yet imagine.
The screens hummed patiently, waiting for the moment when the questions would end and wishes would be made.