Blake Thompson woke up to the dull buzz of his phone vibrating on the nightstand.No alarm.No music.Just a quiet reminder that another day had arrived, and he was still here to witness it.
He blinked slowly, the ceiling coming into focus. His body felt heavy—not from exhaustion, but from the weight of repetition. His room, like always, smelled faintly of old pizza and stale air. Not disgusting. Just… lived in. Forgotten.
He sat up with a sigh, rubbing his face. His hair was messy, his eyes slightly puffy from another late-night gaming session.
Another night spent avoiding reality.
He slid off the bed and shuffled toward the bathroom. The light flickered when he hit the switch, casting a cold glow on the small sink and mirror.
He brushed his teeth, washed his face, and glanced at himself.
Average.Forgettable.A face no one would pick out in a crowd.
He didn't hate how he looked; he simply felt disconnected from it. Like he was staring at someone else's reflection.
His apartment wasn't dirty—just neglected. A half-folded blanket on the couch. A few energy drink cans lined up on his desk like trophies from a battle he no longer cared about. The blinds only halfway open, letting in a sliver of daylight that somehow made the room feel even smaller.
He walked over to his PC and pressed the power button.The familiar hum filled the room.Somehow, that noise always felt warmer than silence.
When the desktop loaded, he stared at it.
Emails for work.Notifications from gaming platforms.Nothing from family.Nothing from friends.Nothing that mattered.
He checked his job queue. Customer support tickets had piled up overnight again. He put on his headset, already preparing to type polite responses to people he'd never meet.
"Hello, I'm sorry you're experiencing this issue…"
Copy.Paste.Send.
He repeated the cycle for hours.
He wasn't unhappy.He wasn't stressed.He wasn't overwhelmed.
He was just… numb.
That was the worst part—life wasn't bad, but it felt hollow. Like he was living on autopilot.
Work.Microwave meal.Game.Sleep.Repeat.
Day after day until the calendar lost meaning.
When his shift finally ended, he leaned back in his chair and stretched. His spine cracked loudly in the quiet apartment. He stared at the blank wall for a long moment.
"Man…" he muttered."I really need a hobby."
The joke tasted bittersweet.
He opened his MMORPG out of habit. The login music washed over him—heroic, adventurous, warm. Everything his life wasn't.
His character, Valkrion, appeared on the screen as the loading finished. An armored warrior wielding a sword glowing with divine energy. Confident. Fearless. Powerful.
The kind of person Blake wished he could be.
The guild chat lit up.
"Valk! You're online.""Get in discord, raid in ten!""Bro, you missed the funniest thing yesterday—"
Blake smiled a tiny, genuine smile.Not because he felt happy, but because their voices filled the silence.
He joined the voice channel."Yo," he greeted softly.
"Look who finally woke up!""Man's been grinding that sleep stat.""You good, Blake?"
He always got that question.
He always gave the same answer.
"Yeah. Just tired."
But they didn't press.That's why he liked them—they didn't demand anything from him. They accepted him as the quiet one. The reliable DPS who never caused drama.
The raid started, and Blake fell into the flow of the game. Dodging attacks, timing skills, coordinating with his teammates. For a little while, he felt something close to focus. Almost like purpose.
Then—His character died.
Again.
His mind had drifted. His fingers slipped by half a second, and that was enough.
"Damn, Valk's down.""Dude, that's like the third time today.""You sure you're okay?"
He sighed into the mic."Yeah. Just… distracted."
"About what?"
He didn't answer.
What could he say? That he felt like life was slipping by without him participating? That every day felt like he was watching someone else live through a screen? That sometimes he wondered if the world would even notice if he stopped logging in—both in-game and in real life?
So he said nothing, and they moved on.
After the raid ended, Blake logged out earlier than usual."Night, guys," he mumbled.
"Take care, man.""Sleep well.""Don't disappear on us."
He chuckled weakly. "No promises."
The room fell silent again.
He shut off his PC. The glow faded.The darkness settled in.
Blake walked to the window and opened the blinds.The city stretched out below him—lights flickering, cars humming, people moving.Everyone going somewhere.
Everyone except him.
He pressed a hand against the glass.Cold.Real.
He whispered to no one,"Is this all I'm meant to be?"
The words floated in the air, unanswered.
He wasn't looking for adventure.He wasn't looking for danger.He wasn't even looking for happiness.
He just wanted something.
Something new.Something different.Something that made his heart beat faster than the rhythm of typing emails.
He closed the blinds again.Returned to his desk.Opened a blank document.
"Maybe tomorrow will be different."
He typed the sentence slowly.
Stared at it.
Backspaced it.
Typed it again.
Backspaced it again.
He laughed quietly.It sounded foreign.
He shut the laptop and headed to bed.
As he lay down, staring at the ceiling, he let his mind wander. Back to childhood dreams. Back to the days when he imagined becoming someone important. When he believed life had meaning waiting to be uncovered.
Somewhere along the way, that belief faded.
He closed his eyes.
Just for a moment, he wished—genuinely wished—that something extraordinary would happen. Even if it was scary. Even if it was life-changing.
He wanted a reason to wake up with excitement.Something to break the monotony.Something to make him feel alive.
Just… something.
The room was silent.
Comfortably so.
Then—His computer flickered.A soft "bzzt" cut the quiet.
Blake opened his eyes.
The screen, which he was sure he turned off, blinked to life.Lines of code streamed down rapidly, glowing a strange shade of blue.
Blake sat up slowly."What the…?"
The text froze.
Then a single sentence appeared.
SYSTEM BOOT COMPLETE.AUTHENTIC USER IDENTIFIED.
His heart skipped.
More text appeared.
DIMENSIONAL TRANSFER PREPARING…PLEASE REMAIN STILL.
Blake stared, baffled."This can't be real."
He stood to step toward the PC—But a blinding light burst from the monitor, swallowing the room.
The air vibrated.The floor trembled.Static filled his ears.
Blake shielded his eyes, stumbling backward.
"Stop! What—what is this!?"
The light intensified.
His heartbeat thundered in his chest.
Not fear.Not pain.Something else—
Excitement.
A feeling he hadn't felt in years.
His last thought before everything vanished was simple:
Finally… something different.
The light consumed him.
And the world he knew ended.