"No. No. No."
Under the rain, in the middle of the busy road, Grayson looked at his hands, trying to clear his vision. Blood coated his palms, his fingers mangled, incomplete.
As his sight sharpened, he saw the rain mingling with the blood, dripping over his broken fingers. A sharp pain tore through his stomach. Slowly, he looked down—and froze. A car door was lodged halfway inside his body.
"Ahh! Dad? Uncle Pat? I need help… I think I'm gonna die!" he screamed, turning toward the wrecked van across the street.
Fear, pain, anger, and confusion collided in his chest. Grayson was in shock at the sight before him. "We… we were on a family trip… all together… we—" His voice broke.
His eyes quivered, still dripping blood, as he tried to get up despite the car door still embedded in him. The pain was relentless, but he needed to know—was anyone alive? Was anyone around?
He staggered toward the van. Cars sped past him, nearly hitting him, but his mind was clouded with anguish and disbelief.
A passing vehicle's headlights illuminated a horrifying sight: his mother's body.
He froze, fear rooting him to the spot. "Mom?" he called, his voice trembling. Blood smeared across his face, his knees giving way as he approached her. Another vehicle passed, the light revealing her more clearly. His mother's skull was cracked open, her brains spilling across the rain-slicked road.
"No—!" he cried, his voice breaking. He looked at her body, scattered and broken.
"No, no, no… this must be a dream! This is a dream!" He shook his head violently, tears streaming down his face. More vehicles passed, their lights briefly exposing the other bodies of his family, lifeless on the asphalt as he stumbled to the center of the road.
"Dad! Uncle Pat! Aunt Eve! Jay Jay! Granny! Why… why am I seeing this?" The bloody faces flashed in his vision, relentless, unyielding. He pressed his hands to his eyes, trying to force the nightmare away.
"They—" he whispered, choking on the word. "We—" His voice cracked. "My family… we were on a trip, right?"
He looked around frantically. No one was near.
A bitter, hollow laugh escaped him. "How… how is this real? This is definitely 3D. This isn't real." He laughed and cried at the same time, the absurdity mingling with his horror.
"Whoever owns this 3D game… got me good." He yelled, demanding the nightmare stop.
Silence answered. Only the patter of rain and the hum of passing cars remained.
He whispered their names again—Mom… Dad—this time quieter, more fragile, like he was realizing for the first time that they were truly gone.
His mother had been pregnant. He had longed for a little sister, a dream he had waited years to see fulfilled. And now… she was gone. His family, his hopes, his dreams of happiness, pride, and protecting his own sister—all shattered, soaked in blood and rain.
"There is nothing left to live for… How am I still alive? Why me, God?"
"Who… who do I go to? How… how do I survive alone? Why didn't you take me?"
Anger and hate surged through him. Ignoring the searing pain in his stomach, he forced himself upright. The car door didn't matter. The blood didn't matter.
With a roar, he ripped the door free. Pain lanced through his body as it came out, dragging organs with it—intestines, kidneys, lungs partially torn—but he stumbled forward anyway. Weak steps carried him to the center of the road, the chaos of passing headlights a cruel rhythm around him.
His hands flailed in the air. "You all can't leave me here! I can't… I just can't! It's my fault! I'll pay the price… I'll pay it!"
A truck's headlights bore down on him. He closed his eyes, ready to embrace death.
Suddenly, time froze. Just as the truck was about to crush him, darkness swallowed everything. The world disappeared, leaving him suspended in void, weightless, alone.
A rectangular screen, edged with smoke, hovered before him.
"What…?" Grayson whispered, realizing the truck hadn't hit him. There was no pain.
"Am I dead? Is this… what death feels like? Where… where am I?"
Suddenly, time froze. The truck was just an inch away from crushing Grayson to complete death when a dark screen appeared. The world around him dissolved into a void, empty and endless.
It felt as if he were floating in space. Mid-air, a rectangle hovered before him, its edges smoky and flickering like shadows in the dark.
"What—?" Grayson whispered, staring at it in disbelief. For the first time since the accident, he felt no pain from the truck that had been moments from killing him.
"Am I… dead? Is this what death feels like? Where… am I?"
He focused on the screen, trying to understand what it was.
"What is this?"
Then it responded. Words formed across the rectangle, not typed by any hand but as if the screen had a mind of its own:
The Oblivion Protocol.
Grayson blinked, fear tightening around his chest. His voice caught in his throat.
"The… Oblivion Protocol?"
He stared at it, trembling, unable to comprehend what he was seeing.
Then it responded, its words appearing as if with purpose, explaining why it had brought him here.
"You wish this wasn't real? You wish they hadn't left you?"
Grayson nodded immediately, his mind gripping at the question.
The screen continued. "We can make it possible. You can return to your family as if nothing ever happened."
Grayson frowned, unconvinced. "Is this some kind of joke?" he asked cautiously.
The system didn't answer directly. Its responses were strict, precise—sometimes withholding information entirely.
"You can refuse this offer and die instantly," it said. "Or you can accept and be reunited with your family."
He closed his eyes, weighing the impossible choice before him. Then he asked, voice trembling, "This isn't some kind of charity technology, is it? What do you get in return?"
The screen's words appeared calmly, without emotion.
"You will complete a small task."