2:15 AM. The city's neon lights were mostly swallowed by the heavy night.
Inside a cheap, 24-hour fast-food joint, the air smelled of stale grease and cheap bleach. On the wall, an old TV flickered with static. A news anchor's stiff voice echoed, "…Abnormal geological activities have been detected globally. A magnitude-3 micro-earthquake occurred in our coastal areas. Experts advise…"
David wasn't listening to the news. He sat on a greasy plastic chair, his eyes fixed on a pristine white box—the latest iPhone 17 Pro Max.
As a Year 2 Computer Science student, David's life was usually defined by code, algorithms, and logic. But for the past three months, his reality had been defined by pure exhaustion. He worked as a waiter by day and a delivery boy by night, sleeping less than four hours a day just to afford this gift for his girlfriend, Nicole.
"She'll love it," David whispered, his calloused thumb tracing the embossed logo on the box. He imagined her smile, a rare bit of warmth in his cold, overworked life.
"Ding-dong. You have a new premium delivery order."
David sighed. He was at his physical limit, but the late-night bonus was too good to pass up. He grabbed his bag, hopped on his beat-up motorcycle, and headed toward the city's most luxurious landmark: The Grand Sterling Hotel.
When David entered the hotel's gold-leafed lobby, the luxurious heat almost made him shiver. But as he stepped into the elevator to head to Room 602, something felt... off.
He noticed a small, laminated card taped next to the floor buttons. It didn't look like a standard hotel notice. The font was jagged, almost vibrating.
[GUEST SAFETY NOTICE - RULE 0] If the elevator stops at Floor 4.5, do not step out. Do not look at the ceiling. Close your eyes and count to ten. The "Manager" only takes those who acknowledge him.
David frowned. "Floor 4.5? This hotel only has twelve floors. What kind of sick prank is this?"
As a coder, he hated illogical bugs. He reached out to tear the card off, but his hand froze. The text on the card suddenly glitched, the ink swirling like dark smoke before settling back into its original form.
Before he could process it, the elevator jolted violently. The floor indicator screen flickered.
[4.4... 4.5... 4.6]
For a split second, the doors started to slide open at a floor that shouldn't exist. David caught a glimpse of a dark hallway covered in pulsating, organic-looking wallpaper. A cold, wet breath brushed against the back of his neck.
He slammed the 'Close Door' button, his heart hammering against his ribs. The doors hissed shut just as a long, multi-jointed pale finger tried to hook around the edge.
The elevator continued to the 6th floor as if nothing had happened.
"I'm hallucinating. I need more sleep," David muttered, wiping cold sweat from his forehead. He checked his backpack. The iPhone was still there. His mission was still Room 602.
He didn't know that the "Manager" was already watching. He didn't know that the earthquake on the news wasn't coming from the ground—it was the sound of a world-ending "System" booting up.
Ding. David stepped out onto the 6th floor, heading toward the room where his heart—and his reality—were about to be shattered.