Ethan grumbled as he walked along the campus corridors. His classes had just ended, and unfortunately, he had been given a ton of work in the name of "catching up" with the rest. Normally, he wouldn't care—he could just go back to his apartment and play his favorite game. But now, he couldn't even do that. He had completed the game, and without it, he didn't know what to do.
He pulled his phone from his pocket, checking the time—1:30. He decided to get something to soothe his stomach before it began eating away at itself. He dug out his wallet, hoping to check his balance, only to be gravely disappointed. Inside were five crumpled one-dollar bills. Shit, where'd all my cash go? He remembered the night prior—he had stocked up on a large amount of food for an all-nighter, just so he could finish the game.
He sighed at his stupidity as he walked out of campus, heading to a nearby snack vendor. He bought a couple of lunch bars, draining his wallet to $0. Seems like I'll have to call my sister, he thought. He wolfed down the three bars as he made his way to the auditorium, aiming to catch some sleep before the meeting started.
Meanwhile, back in his apartment, his computer turned on. The screen flashed to something he would have recognized instantly—the "APOCALYPSE" loading screen. He had gotten this game after breaking up with Eve; he needed something to ease the pain, and the game offered just that. It gave him an escape from his hellish life. He had grown addicted, spending five years playing it nonstop, eventually beating it—leaving him with no sense of direction.
The screen changed again, now showcasing a black screen with a single progress bar, filling up unnaturally fast. The game was updating—which was weird. It shouldn't update without his authorization, yet there it was. The bar filled completely, and a brand-new login screen appeared. The same title, "APOCALYPSE", was displayed, but now, beneath it, another word: "AWAKENING." A second progress bar appeared below it, slowly but steadily filling. It read: "LAUNCHING."
Ethan, unaware of this, slept in the auditorium, undisturbed. His stomach still grumbled with hunger, though not as intensely as before. Slowly, the auditorium filled, and he was eventually awakened by the murmurs of the university crowd. He sighed—the meeting was about to begin.
The auditorium was massive, large enough to fit the entire campus population—which was impressive, given that this was the second-largest campus in America. The murmurs grew into deafening chatter as more and more people filed in. Ethan sat near the back, close to the exit—he wanted to leave first when this was over.
The chancellor walked in from the side, stepping behind a pedestal set up by one of the staff members. Behind him followed a large group of teachers. The chancellor was an old man, his head full of white hair, a bald spot prominent at the crown, his thick beard covering the lower half of his face. He grabbed the microphone.
"Students," he said.
The entire auditorium fell silent, eager to hear what he had to say.
"I'm sure you're all wondering why I've called you here today." His voice boomed through the hall, amplified by the speakers.
Murmurs arose again as students speculated. Ethan slumped back in his chair, his mind drifting back to his apartment.
"Well, it's to announce that I am officially retiring as chancellor of this institution."
The auditorium exploded into noise—some cheered, others gasped in shock. Even Ethan, who usually couldn't care less, sat up, listening. This was interesting.
"I've grown too old to fulfill my duties, so I'm handing them over to… Ms. Sophia."
Ethan's eyes widened. This he wasn't expecting. The students erupted—some booed, others clapped, though the applause was drowned out by the uproar.
Back in his apartment, the progress bar continued to fill.
98%... 99%... 100%.
At 100%, the screen went black.
And all over the world—darkness followed.
The skies turned red. Ominous clouds swirled, blotting out the sun.
Of course, Ethan and the other students were indoors—they couldn't see anything. To them, it just seemed like a blackout. Murmurs spread, some laughing it off as a prank. But Ethan didn't think so. His instincts screamed that something was wrong.
And he was right.
A black screen with gold highlights flashed into existence right in front of him. He stood up immediately.
"No. No, no, no—this has to be a prank!" he thought.
But oh, how he wished it were.