Ark was twenty-two years old and an unrepentant slave to his screen. His room was a mausoleum of neglect, reeking of stale instant noodles and the damp musk of forgotten laundry. Crumpled snack wrappers formed miniature mountains around his chair. The only light came from the cold blue glare of his monitor, which flickered like a dying star.
He hadn't worked a day since graduating. Ambition was a word other people used. To him, the outside world was just noise. Games, though? Games made sense. Enemies. Objectives. Wins. Losses. Predictable.
The analog clock on his wall ticked past 6:30 AM.
A door creaked open at the top of the stairs. Rebecca, his mother, stood there in her work uniform, the hallway light painting her silhouette in pale gold. Her eyes narrowed the way only a mother's could—a blend of exasperation and hope.
"Ark. Seriously, take a shower for once. You smell like a dying couch cushion," she said, pinching her nose. "Also, someone will be delivering something today. It's important. Make sure you answer the door. Got it?"
Ark didn't even swivel his chair. His voice was gravel from exhaustion. "Yeah, yeah... I got it."
She sighed. "Try... to be human today, okay?"
The door clicked shut behind her.
The moment she left, Ark's posture collapsed. He was still clutching his controller, his fingers twitching from marathon play. His bloodshot eyes blinked slowly.
Sleep wasn't a choice. It was a collapse.
Darkness.
Then, a strange weightlessness.
Ark opened his eyes—but not the ones in his skull.
He was floating. In the corner of the room. Watching.
His body—his body—was still in the chair, slumped over. But then it twitched, stirred... stood up.
He watched, paralyzed and weightless, as it began moving. Completely on its own.
A soft electric chime echoed through the space.
A bright-blue barcode ignited on the back of his body's neck:
SUBJECT #043
UNAUTHORIZED ACCESS DETECTED
"No. No, no, no," Ark whispered, but the words vanished in the vacuum of this detached perspective.
His body walked out of the room, puppet-like.
The walls began to unravel behind it—not in flames or noise, but in digital static, as if the house were being deleted, one file at a time.
Stunned, Ark followed the puppet. Down the stairs. Into the dissolving hallway.
The front door opened.
A man stood there with a package. Unremarkable. Too unremarkable. Like someone who didn't belong in any memory. Ark's body reached out, accepted the parcel.
Then it happened.
The air bent.
Something stepped into view.
A human-shaped figure, completely silhouetted. No face. No features. No light reflecting from it. Just void in the shape of a man.
Ark's body froze. His breath hitched—or would have, if he had lungs in this state.
The figure turned to face Ark's floating consciousness.
Even without eyes, it stared into him.
Then it spoke.
"STATUS: COMPROMISED," it rasped, voice like a corrupted file playing through broken speakers.
"COMMENCING REBOOT."
A deafening pulse flooded his mind.
Ark screamed.
And fell.
Suddenly, he was somewhere else.
An infinite office suspended in darkness. No walls. No floor. Just endless rows of desks floating in a black void.
Shadowy workers, identical and faceless, each wearing a green tag, typed on ghostly translucent keyboards. Keystrokes echoed into silence. No chatter. No breath. No life.
Ark hovered above it all, unable to move, trapped in a nightmare that felt too structured to be just a dream.
Then one of the workers stood.
The tag hit the invisible ground with a metallic clink.
The figure bolted. Running. Sprinting into the distance, never nearing an end. Like they were trapped in a treadmill void.
"What is this? What is happening?!" Ark shrieked. His voice echoed now.
"This is freaking me out—WAKE UP, Ark! WAKE UP!"
He jolted.
His heart was pounding. Fingers clenched around his controller.
He was back in his chair.
Back in his room.
Everything as it was. Almost.
The clock: 6:30 AM.
The game screen: frozen on Game Over.
The monitor's time: 11:00 AM.
His door creaked.
"Ark. Seriously, take a shower for once. You smell like a dying couch cushion," said Rebecca.
No.
It was happening again.
"And someone will be delivering something today. It's important. Make sure you answer the door. Got it?"
"Didn't you already leave for work?" Ark asked, slowly turning to her.
She didn't even pause. "Try... to be human today, okay?"
She vanished.
He stared at his phone.
New Message
Sender: Null Entity
Message: You weren't supposed to see us, #043.
His blood turned to ice.
He remembered the barcode.
Then—another chime. He looked at the time.
6:35 AM.
The monitor still said 11:05.
"No, no, this isn't right. This can't be real," he muttered.
His fingers trembled as he opened his contact list.
Jin.
He hit call.
"Yo! Long time! What's up?" Jin answered, chipper.
"Jin, listen to me. I don't know what's happening. I think... I think I'm being erased. I don't have much time."
Jin went quiet.
"Ark... are you okay? Are you thinking about doing something to yourself? Don't move. I'm coming over. Right now. Just stay there. Please."
Call ended.
Ark stood up and walked to the front door.
Knock. Knock.
He opened it.
Jin was there. Out of breath.
But Ark froze.
There it was the same barcode but it had a different number.
SUBJECT: #003
Stamped across Jin's forehead like a brand.
"Hey, what happened? You look like you saw a ghost," Jin said, walking inside.
"Come upstairs. I need to show you something."
They climbed the stairs in silence.
In his room, Ark shut the door.
"I think we're inside something... artificial. Like a program. I saw my body moving on its own. I was watching it from outside myself. There was this barcode on me. A figure without a face. They said I was compromised. Then I woke up. But time... time's broken."
Jin furrowed his brow. "What do you mean 'barcode'?"
Ark pointed at him. "#003. It was right there. On your forehead."
Jin stepped back. "Dude. Maybe you need to unplug for a bit. Get some rest. Or talk to someone. You're scaring me."
"Check the time," Ark demanded.
Jin pulled out his phone. "11:10."
Ark shoved his phone into Jin's hands. "Look. It says 6:40."
Jin looked down.
"Nope. 11:10. It says the same thing, man."
Ark opened his mouth.
And vanished.
Gone.
No wind. No light. No sound.
Just gone.
Jin stood frozen.
A cold sweat trickled down his spine.
"Ark? I could've sworn I was just talking to him... a second ago."
He looked around the room, suddenly alien to him.
[TO BE CONTINUED]