The night was thick with humidity in the old streets of Tunis. Neon lights buzzed above cafés, taxis honked as if they were at war with each other, and someone in the distance was loudly negotiating the price of a sandwich as if life itself depended on it. In this chaotic theatre of ordinary life, Ahmed existed — not as a hero, not as a scholar, but as a professional master of surviving nonsense.
Ahmed was twenty-two, forever dressed in cheap tracksuits with a pocket full of sunflower seeds, and an aura of pure "I-don't-care" attitude. He was the kind of man who would spend his last coin on a shawarma, then lecture others about financial responsibility while licking the sauce off his fingers.
His dreams? Lofty. His reality? A tragedy of comedy.
Ahmed believed deep down that fate owed him something. After all, hadn't he survived the cruelest system of all? The Tunisian university bureaucracy? He had filled forms that even Kafka would cry over. He had stood in queues so long that friendships were born and died while waiting. If he could survive that, surely life had something special in store.
But what destiny had prepared for Ahmed was not wealth, glory, or even a decent sandwich deal. It was something far darker. Far funnier. Something that would make even the angels above chuckle with disbelief.
Ahmed's Ordinary Disaster Life
It all started with a broken alarm clock. Ahmed was supposed to wake up early to attend a rare job interview. Instead, his alarm betrayed him, screaming at 3 AM instead of 7. Half-asleep, Ahmed dressed like a zombie, left the house, and walked into the night, wondering why the streets were empty.
By 4 AM, he realized his mistake.
"Ya latif… wallahi hadha msh normal," he muttered, rubbing his eyes. "I'm walking like an idiot and the roosters didn't even start yelling yet."
He went back home, only to find the door locked from the inside. His mother, unaware he'd left, had secured it. Ahmed climbed through the window, fell on a plastic chair, and got smacked on the head by his cat.
"Perfect start to my destiny," he groaned.
By 7 AM, when it was truly time to wake up, Ahmed overslept again. By the time he reached the interview, sweaty and smelling faintly of harissa, the manager was already closing the office door.
"Excuse me, sir, I had… a situation."
The manager looked at him like one looks at an unpaid electricity bill. "Situation? You're late by two hours."
Ahmed smiled weakly. "Traffic?"
"The office is literally across the street."
"…pedestrian traffic."
He was thrown out before he could even sit.
The Fall Into the Unknown
Life after that day blurred into a sequence of failures that would make even a tragic clown weep. Ahmed tried being a delivery boy but crashed the scooter into a parked donkey cart. He tried selling mobile phones in the market, but ended up arguing with customers more than selling anything.
And then… the storm came.
Literally.
One late evening, while walking back from a failed attempt to sell "imported sunglasses" (which suspiciously looked like they were stolen from his uncle's drawer), Ahmed noticed the sky above turning red. Not orange. Not pink. Red.
"Eh beh… this is not a normal sunset," he whispered. "Ya rab… is this the end of the world? And I'm still broke?"
The air grew heavy. Static electricity buzzed. Street lamps flickered like frightened eyes. Ahmed, in true Tunisian fashion, pulled out his phone to record.
"If it's the apocalypse, at least I'll go viral on TikTok," he said proudly.
But then lightning struck — not the ground, not the sky, but him.
The Awakening of Chaos
Ahmed didn't die. He didn't fry into shawarma meat. Instead, he woke up in… darkness.
He floated, weightless, his body numb, his mind racing.
"Am I dead? Did they put me in some fridge? Wallahi I swear if I wake up in a morgue I'll sue them—"
🔊 [SYSTEM NOTICE: HOST LINK ESTABLISHED.]
Ahmed froze.
"…eh? Who said that?!"
🔊 [SYSTEM BOOTING… PLEASE WAIT.]
"System? Chniya hedha? This is not PlayStation! Who installed this nonsense in my brain?"
🔊 [HOST DETECTED: AHMED BEN YOUSSEF. STATUS: UNEMPLOYED, HUNGRY, CONFUSED.]
Ahmed gasped. "Ya khra! Even the voice in my head is roasting me?!"
🔊 [CORRECTION: STATUS UPDATED. HOST IS ALSO PATHETIC.]
"…laaa. Wallahi la. I'm not dealing with this."
🔊 [DEALING IS MANDATORY. YOU ARE NOW A PLAYER IN THE GRAND GAME.]
"What game?! I didn't sign up for nothing! I just wanted a job, maybe some free WiFi, and now I'm… what? A character?!"
🔊 [AFFIRMATIVE. YOU ARE NOW THE ENTERTAINMENT OF HIGHER BEINGS.]
"…higher beings? Ya satir, don't tell me even in the afterlife I'm a clown for someone else!"
🔊 [CORRECT. YOU ARE A CLOWN. 🤡]
Ahmed's Rage
Ahmed screamed into the void.
"Ya weld el—! Chniya halmasiba hedhi?! Why me?! Couldn't you pick someone smarter, stronger, more handsome?!"
🔊 [SCANNING… RESULT: NONE OF THOSE QUALITIES FOUND IN HOST.]
"…I swear I'll find where you live, System, and I'll delete you with a slipper."
🔊 [THREAT DETECTED. HAHAHA. GOOD LUCK, LOSER.]
Ahmed clutched his head, but there was no head to clutch. He was a floating soul being mocked by a machine. His destiny, his future, his everything — rewritten into a cosmic comedy sketch.
And that was how Ahmed's real journey began: not with triumph, not with honor, but with a scream echoing into eternity.
Epilogue – Prologue Cliffhanger
The darkness cracked like glass. A new world's light began to leak in — forests, mountains, skies too blue to be Earth's. Ahmed's body started to reshape, bones and flesh pulling together.
🔊 [SYSTEM NOTICE: WELCOME TO YOUR NEW REALITY. SURVIVAL CHANCE: 0.0001%.]
Ahmed panicked.
"0.0001?! Ya rabbi, that's less than the chance of the government fixing potholes!"
🔊 [CORRECT. ENJOY YOUR SUFFERING.]
And with that final roast, Ahmed was hurled into the new world, his mouth open in a mix of terror and curses.
And his destiny had only just begun.
[TO BE CONTINUED...]