Crescendo: Freedom’s Rehearsal

Noel — Two minutes ago

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'Let the game resume~' The voice echoed, a sinister delight woven into each syllable. The atmosphere, already thick with dread and frustration, crackled with a new electric sense of urgency.

He gasped, realizing that his usual weekly jog around his house was a pathetic joke compared to his current mad dash for survival. His heart pounded fiercely, each step transmitting sharp, incomprehensible pains from every joint in his legs straight to his brain.

Chaos erupted in the building; an instant cacophony of screams soon filled the air.

'Damn it!' Upon casting a hurried look backward, Noel discovered that two figures matched his pace behind him, slowly reducing the distance between them.

He sped up.

'The confined space here makes it impossible to run straight and looping is too risky.' Looping meant having a predictable route, and he was already running out of steam.

'I only have about less than twenty seconds before I have to stop, any more and I will be too exhausted to defend myself. Then, I'll need to fend them off in order to execute the plan… why not just try talking to them? We are civilized beings.' Noel slowed his pace then this time looked more closely at his pursuers.

'…' He immediately resumed running when he saw the lack of red on their clothing. He was also more or less sure that they were ranked between 10th and 15th position, so he couldn't assume they might be eaters lucky enough to be far away from the last ranked. They were after his points, which granted him fifth place, because they somehow believed in the promise of immortality or, at the very least, intended to climb up the ranking in order to be safe.

Noel smiled as if he saw a river in a desert, his pace quickened as he darted into a carpentry shop, seizing the first weapon he came across — a battery-powered chainsaw. He then spun, facing his pursuers with a menacing grin, and activated the chainsaw.

The chainsaw roared to life. A stalemate occurred; three souls, unmoving, as the chainsaw sang its deadly mechanic lullaby slicing through any noises from afar, making only its orchestra heard. Dozens of seconds elapsed, yet the song of the mechanical singer remained constant with the same sincere message, "You approach, you die!"

Time dragged on and the stalemate persisted.

'…Should I play the role of hunter and scare them off? Try to talk with them? Or stand my ground? Less than two minutes have gone by, but I prefer to hurry! This sick game can't continue.' His grin began to melt.

'…' No one moved. Sweat dropped from everyone faces.

'…I can try to reason with them. We aren't animal.' More second elapsed, he prepared his speech in his head in order to avoid shuttering, he unconsciously let his guard down.

"Listen—" No sooner had he started speaking than he was interrupted.

"Now!" The woman threw a tennis ball at Noel's face, stunning him momentarily. At the same time, the man, wielding a store-looted knife, lunged forward. With a swift kick, he knocked the chainsaw from Noel's grasp, leaving him defenseless as the machine clattered to the ground, yet its roar of death persisted.

"Sorry. Your dead is needed." As a knife pierced his abdomen, Noel felt the cold steel slice through his flesh. Blood now stained his shirt, his blood. He let out a scream. That sharp pain was a new sensation, far removed from the sheltered life he once led; not that most wouldn't react the same way.

'My dead is needed? Of course not! What a joke… This is the end?'

Before the man could remove his knife to stab him again, Noel gripped the weapon, keeping it embedded in his abdomen. 'I'm not a doctor, but I know enough to know that removing a blade means certain death if no present to act like a plug for my blood circulation! React swiftly? It's some good advice Marshal, my old self would have waited to die!'

Sadness, anger, annoyance, fear, hope, and another emotion were present within Noel, when he noticed this emotion, his anger increased exponentially. Why was there this inexplicable feeling of liberation? Why did the prospect of death seem like an alluring escape? Was it truly an escape, or just a delusion?

His answer was a maybe, a disturbing maybe, nothing binary like a yes or a no, an indecisive final answer hidden in his psyche, unchanging.

Could he endure this cursed ordeal to witness the dawn of another day? Was there any semblance of meaning in his relentless struggle? If he were to survive, what then? He had lived years in the shadow of his past, so what could possibly change—This time an answer came to him: 'Myself! If I change myself my future might change. This is what I was trying to do before this whole place began to be painted in red and the air filled with madness! I was always passive, of course, nothing was going to change.'

However, if he tried be active, could he change? Or could the future hold something, anything, worth discovering, worth fighting for? Doubt gnawed at him, yet he found no answers.

'However! I'm done being passive. Whether I live or I die, it will be decided only by me! Not anyone else.' A torrent of thoughts flooded his consciousness, with the sole goal: survive.

His bloodshot eyes locked on his aggressor.

"Do you believe you can convince the authorities this was in self-defense?!" Noel roared, his grip on the knife weakening as he was gradually overpowered. His attacker, which had inadvertently tried to grasp his civilized self, slightly jerked in surprise easing his pull on the knife. Ultimately, none of them woke up in the morning prepared to participate in a death game.

'Now!' Seizing the moment, Noel struck the man's throat with all his might. The assailant collapsed, gasping for air, his face flushing crimson. Noel turned expecting another assault, only to find the woman surrendering, her knife clattering to the ground as she collapsed sobbing, "I just want to go home."

'…' Though the fierceness had faded from his visage, a vigilant light lingered in his eyes. 'If she is not attacking me then it's time to go.'

'The game end!~' Announced the voice, its tone as gleeful as before. This time, however, no one vanished.

 'A new game will soon happen. Now everyone will participate. I realized that I was being unfair about the history of the registrations. It was too hard for some people. This time everyone can play. Let me explain the rules!'

'Quick… But it was obvious that the time was going to be a lot shorter. Nevermind, I need to go.' Noel was going to run before he paused. The assailant who stabbed him lay sprawled on the ground, while the woman, previously weeping, now rushed towards him.

"Are you all right, my dear?" She nudged him gently, but there was no response, no movement. Growing increasingly frantic, she pushed him harder. "My dear? MY DEAR?!"

'Why isn't he moving?' Suddenly, as if in response to his thoughts, a nearby panel lit up, showing Noel in third place instead of fifth.

A storm of thoughts raged within him, as a myriad of possibilities surged like waves.

'…they are only two possibilities. Either a participant has singularly eliminated three among the top four participants (or something similar), or I…'

Noel hesitated, his thoughts trailing off as he reconsidered the sequence of events. A critical question surfaced: Where had he struck the man?

Memories of his desperate strike flooded his mind. He aimed for the throat. After the hit, the man writhed in pain on the ground before becoming completely still, it was one of the reasons why Noel instinctively remained only on guard against the woman who surrendered.

The more Noel thought about that, the more the possibility became more than a simple possibility at the sight of the man — no, at the sight of the lifeless body of the man.

"I didn't mean it! I just wanted to attack somewhere where my lack of strength wouldn't be a problem!" Noel's shout was lost on the woman, who was screaming the man's name, perhaps her lover, brother, or friend, in denial of the grim reality. 'I took a life. I took from someone the possibility to grow, the possibility to experience countless things… I… No, it can't be!'

Ignoring the woman's cries, Noel pushed her as she was slumped over the body and examined it. 'What if he's not beyond saving? Does the voice deem itself like some kind of divine being with its final verdict?! What a load of nonsense!'

"Leave him alone!" Ignoring the woman's scream, Noel swiftly turned the man onto his back and used both hands to open his mouth, revealing blood inside.

'I must have ruptured an internal blood vessel, causing suffocation. …Maybe.' He remembered that his only knowledge of resuscitation came from films, TV shows and weird online forums.

A thought came to him. There had to be at least one person in the building capable of performing the procedure better than an amateur.

'So the rules of the new games are…' Suddenly, the voice declared, as it proceeded with its explanation.

Currently, all focus centered on the voice. In retrospect, even if this wasn't the case, all either attempted to kill or escape from one another, if anyone had made it this far, they were unlikely to lend a helping hand.

Noel frowned, then looked at the body. 'I'm wasting my time and honestly the life of this man and everyone present couldn't be more irrelevant to me… Yet, I need to try. I cannot change the past but I can change the future! I don't know how I feel about the concept of killing, but I refuse to let an accident be the cause.'

Noel looked at the man's mouth, then drew his mouth close before instinctively recoiling in disgust before any contact could be made.

'If he was a wo—' He turned his head, then instructed the woman who looked at him baffled.

"Listen woman! When I say blow, perform mouth-to-mouth to him!"

"Wha—" The woman looked at him incredulously as water poured from her eyes to drip from her chin.

"Understand?!"

"Yes!"

'Man… Woman… Yep. I don't care about their name and I won't ask either.'

Noel placed one hand atop the other on the man's chest and began pressing down repeatedly. After a series of dozens of compressions, he commanded sharply, "Blow!"

The woman's lips covered the man's mouth as she blew with all the air she could muster.

They repeated the process several times. One minute passed and nothing happened.

'If only I had a defibrillator, then maybe… There is in any public space idiot!' He scanned the surroundings and spotted a defibrillator box mounted on a nearby wall.

Noel retrieved the box's contents and came back, turning on the defibrillator. He attentively followed the voiced instructions.

(◉︵◉) : "Begin by removing any clothing from the chest area and ensure it's dry before proceeding. Then…"

Noel meticulously complied with each directive, then administered an electric shock. The body twitched from the charge, but there was still no sign of life was displayed on the defibrillator's screen.

(◉︵◉) : "Please. Perform chest compressions on the victim as indicated on the screen. I will guide the rhythm. Continue without interruption."

Despite his efforts, the man's heart remained silent.

(◉︵◉) : "Stand clear of the victim, then press the button to deliver another shock."

Noel did as instructed, and the body once more jolted then… nothing.

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After ten attempts — Five minutes later

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The scene, once filled with the mechanical song of hope from the defibrillator in conjunction of the song of death of the dropped chainsaw, was now filled only with the song of death.

(◉︵◉) : "…"

Repeated queries from the defibrillator broke the silence.

(◉︵◉) : "Are emergency services yet to arrive? Have you called for assistance as instructed several times? As previously mentioned, failing to assist those in danger constitutes a significant legal offense."

It persisted before ceasing its inquiries. Despite the lack of true sentience and not having a sophisticated AI, the machine had been designed with numerous scenarios in mind.

(◉︵◉) : "…"

(◉︵◉) : "[End of Service]"

Thus, were the last lyrics of the singer of hope. …well it could no longer represent hope.

The light of the machine faded to red before extinguishing entirely.

The chainsaw, still running its song of deaths, suddenly roared even louder, before stopping altogether. Was it coincidence? Destiny? A simple extinction mechanism? A malfunction? The battery had run out? Such questions were the lingering thoughts in the minds of those who seek meaning in the chaos, where every sound and silence ought to hold a deeper truth. Yet they were futile attempts to rationalize the irrational. Like death, no explanation was needed, it just happened.

As a reminder that the latest deadly game had ceased, the whole building was considerably quieter since no game was ongoing. The only source of noise was internal, and it was the voice, their voice, reciting the rules of an altogether more sinister game, but they didn't bother to listen.

"I…" Noel paused, unsure of what to say.

The woman was in shock.

There was no heartbeat, no flicker of life; the body before them was irrevocably becoming cold, the undeniable truth of death lay bare.

The woman, the silent picture of grief, said nothing; she was sobbing.

"I… I… I…" Noel's surroundings began to tremble, his legs seemed to no longer hold the weight of his upper body. He fell on his buttocks. He felt a pounding drum inside him.

'I killed someone…' After his initial shock, a wave a frustration quickly filled Noel.

'…So what?! It was self-defense; it could just as easily have been me lying there! And at the end of the day… I couldn't care less if some stranger dies. Now it's just different because I was the one…' Shakily, he stood up, casting one glance at the tragic pair. 'No. I shouldn't even give the slightest thought about this either. I'm not the one responsible for this in the first place.'

"You—" In a sudden outburst, Noel lashed out, his foot connecting with the woman's face, silencing her mid-sentence. She crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

'The last thing I need right now is another attempt on my life or pointless screams. She should be happy to be alive in the first place! She contributed to my near-death experience!'

Several seconds passed. His heart was still beating wildly, trying to escape from his chest.

'I tried but I didn't change anything… No… I can't break down.'

Gusts of air flowed in and out of Noel, slowly calming his heartbeat.

'I only feel bad due to have failed to save that man… Nevertheless, I managed to survive despite the odds against me.' At the very least, he didn't feel passive since he was still alive. And this feeling outmatched any guilt he felt about taking a life despite not liking it.

As he regained his composure with each breath, he turned to leave but was startled by Marshal's unexpected presence.

The man stood there; a cart filled with several contents beside him.

"Time to act." He announced bluntly unfazed by the two unmoving body near Noel.

"Aren't you angry at me for being out of position and wasting time?"

"Not in the slightest. To begin with, the game was too unpredictable to do anything. In addition, I didn't do what you asked… Yes, I didn't expect you to survive but I wasn't planning on doing nothing." Marshal gave a nonchalant shrug. "Have you paid attention to what the voice was saying?"

Noel shock his head, then redirected his attention to the ominous announcement he had pushed aside since before.

'So, the one with the lesser kill count….' Since earlier, the voice continued to state the rules. Untold horrors were told to the extent that only the previous cannibalism sentence for the unregistered rivaled them.

Colors were flushed from Noel face. 'If the voice started with that, I may have considered to kill myself directly.'

"In short, my unexpected ally." Marshal said, boiling with anger. "The voice is spurting an even more absurd dead game. Far too absurd for your theory not to be true."

"The mastermind isn't even subtle." Noel frowned wearily before his strength gave out, and he crumpled to the floor. As his adrenaline ran out, the agony of the knife wound surged once more through him, compounded by the psychological toll and fatigue from his relentless efforts to survive and his frantic attempt to save the man.

"Oh…" It was the only comment Marshal gave when he noticed the knife and the blood. At the end, they were just strangers.

'His usefulness has expired it seems, but the insights he gave me are still relevant… No, there is still something he can do.' Marshal glanced at a certain item in his cart. 'And let's hope it works.'

Lying in agony, Noel laughed bitterly. "Hehehe. So, the narrative of life is written in the language of pain?"

The bulky two-meter man looked at him, "What are you-Anyway. Can you stand up? Oh… And avoid making abrupt movement."

"Yeah. My break is over." Noel declared, gathering every ounce of energy to rise, struggling yet refusing help from Marshal. "And since I'm not dead. I will continue." His figure was filled with tremor as if he could collapse at any moment, yet his gaze was telling another story.

"You are more determined than I thought. Anyway, you need to…" Marshal halted mid-sentence, struck by a sudden insight. 'Come to think of it, why is he still alive after being stabbed? In our context, everyone would withdraw the knife to keep it as a weapon or for another strike. Moreover, they would have to be convinced that the wound was mortal to stop at just one stab, which clearly, wasn't the case.'

Marshal's eyes briefly met the floor. With one glance, he could tell the state of the two bodies. 'The man is dead, by logic I would say that he stabbed Noel. Yet, Noel, defying his disadvantages, managed to kill him.'

'Forget it, it's irrelevant.' He thought, his interest waning. 'Life goes on… except for the dead, I guess.'

"Though I held reservations, the moment now calls for unity. Let's rally everyone we can. We only need to gain time." Marshal declared, removing a megaphone from his cart and offering it to Noel. "If we don't lose, of course."

"W-Why must I be the one to speak?" Noel stuttered, not reaching for the megaphone.

"Behold, the holy trinity of speechcraft: ethos, pathos, and logos.

Ethos : Your whole beaten beggar aesthetic—ahem, I mean wounded and relatable aesthetic, is, as the name imply relatable, at least more than some spotless two-meter man.

Pathos : Personally, I believe you can communicate emotions more authentically than me.

Logos : Your logic, despite slightly absurd, is sound enough.

These three points are enough reasons." With a touch of sarcasm, Marshal spoke in a matter-of-fact tone.

'Speaking in the middle of a crowd… Drowning in their collective stare… Becoming the epicenter of all attention…' Noel's flesh itched him as if besieged by an army of ants.

"…hehehehe!" The eerie sensation suddenly vanished giving way to a wild, unsettling laugh. "HEHEHEHEHEHE!!!"

Marshal recoiled, puzzled by Noel's sudden change. "What the hell has gotten into you?"

Noel restored his resolute demeanor, silent in his contemplation.

Why was he even afraid of others to begin with? He didn't care whether they lived or died. His current fear was directed mainly at the culprit. Without hesitation, he would kill the woman if she attempted to kill him upon waking. The same went for Marshal, who was a walking threat.

At the end, Noel had lived a life filled with solitude, marked by countless lengthy sessions of introspection. He had attempted to break away from this life of isolation, but that never meant he cared for others. He just wanted human contact. Since he was indifferent, why fear speaking to them in the first place? Why had the shadows of others' judgments haunted him for years?

'That cursed ten-year-old event!' He realized. 'When the geniuses governing us launched those scanners to the public! The masses cried out for protection, yet, the technology's application strayed from its promised purpose, and they didn't care. Even worse, it soon turned out that they were mostly useless for their intended purpose.

With the scanner already present, they tried to invalidate my whole existence… no, they didn't just try, they succeeded.'

Anger mounted as memories came flooding back. 'Government workers kept telling me, in a roundabout way, that I was crazy and dictated how I should behave. Every one of my actions was monitored. It was humiliating!'

'At least, a somewhat less moronic figure in that circus of governance deemed these scanners and all the new laws illegal four months later, but it was too late. I had friends… My parents never mentioned it, but I knew they were affected because of me. Yet, they did their best to cheer me up, without success, until their deaths 6 months ago… Why am I only now growing a backbone?!'

He pondered in a troubled state. In the end, he did care about them. 'Bloody car accident! I had things I wanted to say to them!'

His anger subsided. 'In retrospect, I won't dismiss these four months as inconsequential or trivial. It was anything but a negligible event, even though it pales in comparison of today. However, it belongs to the past and I can't change it… It will never change like the death of my parents. HOWEVER!'

His eyes sparkled with life. Without warning, Noel broke the silence.

"In my epic of self-liberation, I proclaim: my future lies within my grasp, my well-being no longer submissive of others but steered by the helm of my own resolve. As I cast aside the shackles of the external and my past, I emerge as the supreme leader of my universe casting aside any other perceptions than those created by me to forge a shining path towards my future!" He spread his arms with large motions and raised his head.

"I'm Noel Leonel. This is my story!" His spirit soared above his physical condition, lending power to his words. His declaration echoed throughout the building, now quieter as the majority of the participants listened to the ongoing voice delivering the new game's rules.

Several blinks came from Marshal.

"…Really, you could have just agreed with a yes. And… what exactly is that on your hands?" He said, holding the megaphone he intended to give to Noel.

Noel, puzzled, looked down to see a strange green, fluorescent, thick liquid present on his palms, which started to drip as he moved them.

"I don't k—"

"Actually, I don't care." Marshal dismissed, cutting off the conversation. He then took something from his pocket with his free hand. "Clean it and let's go."

"Okay." Noel smeared the paint on his pants. Like anyone present would care about appearance, he thought.

"…" Marshal returned a packet of tissues to his pockets.

"…" Noel noticed.

…

"Anyway, the look of beggar is fully complete I guess." Marshal tossed the megaphone he was holding to Noel who caught it. "Let's go."

They made their way towards the middle of the building. Each step echoing their determination in the gloomy corridors of the shopping center. Every corner was marked with the remnants of the chaos; blood, corpses, and remnants; no area was left untouched.

They caught sight of several of the survivors like them scattered in the building, restless as horror itself was present on their face as they listened to the announcement of the voice, prepared for the next game, others were desperately trying to break an entrance.

"I refuse. I refuse to stay one second more in this hell and I doubt you want either! PUT ALL YOUR STRENGTH! DO YOU WANT TO BE HERE?!" They were using some metallic bench as battering rams in succession. Even an amateur could tell a considerable amount of force was used in each strike, yet the glass remained unbroken, making a quiet noise as if they were merely tapping on plastic with their little finger. Despite their efforts, it didn't break, yet their resolve began to crack.

"They need to shut up… We only need to listen to the voice." Someone said aimlessly, blood covered his mouth, his hands, and most of his clothes, his eyes as vacant as those of a fish. "If we don't listen, bad things will happen to us. We only need to listen to the voice… right?"

'Then, you would need to rape…' Even now, the voice continued its cursed explanation.

Someone suddenly collapsed with a red cut on its throat.

"I get it now! Only dead can be our salvation!" An overweight man ran towards the fresh body taking its knife. "Was kinda hoping for some trunk to send me to another world but traffic is dead these days, might as well do it myself. I reject this twisted world!" He slowly approached the knife near his throat as sweat dripped from his freckled face. "…it is the only way out."

"I'm a chemist teacher, I can make a bomb!" An old woman approached the group trying to break the entrance with a cart filled with diverse product.

"We can assist you!"

None were unaffected by what happened… by what was happening.

Noel and Marshal arrived at the middle of the building, the best place to reach everyone.

"What are you waiting for?" Marshal expressed, fixing his gaze on Noel after diverting it from the chemist teacher.

"I was just preparing myself." Noel put the megaphone near his mouth. Before he could begin, the voice sounded.

'Let the game begin!~'

A dreadful sensation washed over everyone.

"This time, I will follow everything that the voice tells me to do!"

"It's time for me to die. I wonder if I'll meet a blue-haired goddess in the afterlife."

"We are not playing this damned game! Protect the chemist and let's make the bomb!" A loud rallying cry followed shortly afterwards. "YES!"

"Damn it." Marshal cursed. 'All that is left to do is…'

"It's not over yet." Noel said impassively. "I just need to react swiftly, right? In addition, there is a fourth fundamental element in speech despite not as famous than the three others."

"What?" Marshal looked at him stunned.

Noel raised the megaphone to his mouth and inhaled deeply. "EVERYONE! LISTEN TO ME!"

His voice boomed throughout the building, derailing every train of thought and halting everyone in their tracks. Realizing he had become the center of attention, Noel remained impassive, yet his gaze was intense, not because of the scrutiny but due to a mix of unwavering determination and anger, as if thunder were sparking and flames were dancing in his eyes.

Gradually all eyes were on Noel.

Marshal, slightly irritated, moved his hands from his ears. 'I nearly went deaf… It's a megaphone, we use it to not have to shout! IDIOT!'

'I didn't expect he would seriously follow this advice. I said that to appear profound and enigmatic, partly in jest and partly to lighten the mood. However, the advice itself remains a valid one.' In life, one often heard countless advice and may even give advice themselves. However, actually following advice is a different matter altogether, it wasn't something to do, but a process to follow for life.

'As the fourth element of speech, it should be Kairos, speak when the time is right… He made that time happen!' He instinctively took a step back. The young man before him showcased a tremendous level of personal change in less than thirty minutes!

'This is deeply disconcerting, yet this is not the current concern now. Can you manage this, Noel?' He distanced himself from Noel. 'Even if you do pull this off, what comes next is merely a roll of the dice, something you are acutely aware of. One of the reasons why I won't hesitate… But you, strange fellow might be able to surprise me or not…' He sighed, yet his eyes never left Noel.

In real time, less than ten seconds had elapsed since Noel's shout. Standing in the center, his next words would have the full attention of everyone.

'No matter what happens, I won't carry regrets, because this time, I will fight for my life and my dignity as a human being!'

Noel looked at everyone. 'And I need help.'

Then, he started his speech.