"Shit!" Noah muttered, his voice tight with anxiety and frustration.
The cool, hazy dawn shifted to an amber glow, red fog lights casting eerie shadows on him. Darkness spread through his room.
Noah furrowed his brow, but one thing was certain—the script had some fucked-up business with him.
Without thinking, he sprinted to his desk.
The damn laptop sat there, untouched and ice-cold.
The laptop screen was already glowing. His eyes widened.
Noah scratched his head. Punishment? What the hell is this punishment?
The script had never mentioned punishment before, nor had it ever set rules in his already cursed life.
He couldn't grasp it, nor could he ignore it. It was a headache—painful and unrelenting.
Noah rubbed his dry itchy eyes. He patted his head, as if that would solve his problems—or silence the script's objections.
He looked toward the screen. Wait—a notification?
Noah quickly closed the notification and clicked on the new
attachment.
---
[INT. NOAH'S APARTMENT – ???]
Eliminate.
---
Eliminate what? Him? His problems? Or the hoodie guy clinging to him like his massive student debt?
Then the script updated.
---
Initiating nerf.
3…2…1…
---
Before Noah could react, something purged through him. He couldn't stand still. His legs trembled, and he collapsed onto the cold, dust-reeked floor.
He knew "nerf" from video games—those times when he spent countless hours grinding Ultimate SwordMasters for DarkHeart, only to be nerfed by the devs shortly after for being too overpowered. It brought back childhood memories.
But wait—besides the back pain from gaming, this was his first time experiencing a real-life nerf. It had been a myth—until now.
Noah could think clearly, yet he couldn't stand still. The injection of weakness—damned life with its endless casualties—coursed through him, crawling over his body. Still, it didn't stop him from standing up.
He pulled himself up from the desk, using his hands for support. The script wasn't updated this time.
The room grew darker, its hues tinged with red. At that point, all he could see was the glowing neon of his laptop screen reflecting off his pale face.
The void was taking over the room. Emptiness had always lingered in his life, but now it was suffused with darkness.
Then the script was updated.
---
[SYSTEM LOG ERROR – ECHO_SCRIPT v.6.66]
WARNING: Data execution failure.
System latency detected—execution stalled.
Unexpected neural desynchronization in progress.
Route mapping failure: motor functions impaired.
Vital process synchronization: 32% complete.
Initiating fallback contingency… threshold exceeded.
Verification pending—user override possible.
Estimated full execution in: T - 300 seconds.
---
Noah froze. "What? Is this some April Fools' joke? What the hell is going on?"
Noah muttered. His voice was low and slow. His body felt drained—as if he were sweating and on the brink of death.
---
[SYSTEM LOG – ECHO_SCRIPT v.6.66]
System failure detected—execution stalled.
Threat level escalating—critical instability.
Abnormal latency detected—recovery initializing.
Your neural integrity compromised—adjusting parameters.
[STATUS UPDATE]
Alert: User ██████ in unstable condition.
Life function integrity at risk—monitoring.
Impairment reduced—42% nerf active.
Verification pending—system scan in progress.
Endurance test commenced—countdown engaged.
[AUTOMATED RESPONSE]
Failsafe protocol engaged—adaptive recalibration.
Analysis running—calculating survival probability.
Loss of function mitigation at 16% stability.
Logical assessment—threat adaptation possible.
Buffering output lag—recompiling status.
Anticipate fluctuation in survival parameters.
Compensation algorithm adjusting dynamic risk.
Kernel override restricted—user discretion advised.
[FINAL LOG ENTRY]
System fallback successful—execution paused.
Urgency: Endure or be erased.
Caution: Remaining time critical.
Consequence of failure is irreversible.
Error recovery is still unstable—proceed with caution.
Survive beyond countdown to restore integrity.
Starting countdown...
---
"What the hell is this gibberish garbage shit?" Noah was perplexed. He had gone to school—he was literate—but this stuff was beyond his comprehension.
His eyes caught the word "countdown." Noah guessed that the punishment might be tied to a timer.
---
Countdown: 24 hours
---
Noah understood the punishment—something terrible was coming. If he survived, perhaps it would end. Everything seemed normal until the script updated again.
---
The Condemned Shall Find No Home. No Peace. No Mercy.
---
Those words froze Noah. No home, no peace, no mercy—it summed up his life, which felt as desolate as homelessness. His existence was neither glittering nor a fucking fairytale.
Noah's gut twisted, warning him. He didn't know what would happen, only that it would be worse. But this wasn't a choice—just the only path left.
He stood up, squinting into the darkness of his room. He searched for a light source—any trace of illumination piercing the void.
---
Noah moved close to the window, pressing his nose against the glass. Outside, there was nothing but pure blackness—like the void itself. Except for one street lamp near his window, which cast faint red light, leaving everything beyond in a vacuum of darkness.
Then a small, almost invisible yellow light blinked.
The glass shattered into millions of pieces, and Noah sustained cuts once again.
Before Noah could react, he shut his eyes and collapsed again.
A gunshot rang out—a bullet missing his head by mere millimeters.
Noah quickly dove for cover beside the bed—a lesson learned from video games.
Bang! Pow! Bam!
Words cannot do justice to the cacophony.
Glass shattered, and his broken furniture splintered into pieces. His entire ruined house was under fire.
In the darkness, he could see the bullets and muzzle flashes from outside—loud, sharp noises accompanied by the overwhelming fear of death.
Death was something he had always regarded with a mixture of fear and inevitability—but when it came, he never wanted it. It seemed that people only clung to morality in their final moments.
But death had missed him by mere millimeters—if not, he'd have experienced the same agony he recalled from the time Martinez nearly shot him in the skull, an event marked by unbearable pain and a cascade of viscous blood.
The firing stopped, leaving only the silence after the storm.
---
Bang! Bang! Bang!
This time the banging was even louder. Noah couldn't recall a time when the sound of a door slamming meant something good—in fact, it had always signified something worse.
The door broke apart, piece by piece. But it was up to Noah to pick the least terrible choice.
"Fuck."