Volume 1 - chapter 1 - "How can I die like this?"

The pungent alleyway stretched like a desolate canyon between towering buildings, swallowed by the encroaching darkness of the night. A bitter chill hung in the air, carried on a gentle breeze that whispered through the narrow passage. The distant hum of city life reverberated off the cold, brick walls, mingling with the rhythmic drip of a leaky pipe somewhere nearby.

Amidst the gloom, a solitary figure lay sprawled on the unforgiving pavement, a tableau of agony against the urban backdrop. The feeble light of a flickering street lamp cast long, ominous shadows, painting the scene in shades of gray and black. The tang of coppery blood mingled with the musty scent of decay, a stark reminder of mortality in the heart of the city.

Beneath him, a pool of crimson spread like spilled ink, staining the ground with the final testament of a life cut short. Each ragged breath rattled in his chest, a desperate plea for reprieve from the encroaching void. Beads of sweat mingled with blood on his furrowed brow, tracing a path of anguish down his pallid face.

Amidst the chaos of his failing body, his mind churned with fragmented memories—a lifetime of regrets and unfulfilled promises. His thoughts echoed in the cavernous expanse of his mind, a bitter chorus of self-condemnation.

*Chuckle*, he managed to wheeze out, a bitter, self-deprecating laugh escaping cracked lips. "To think I would die like this... I guess I really am a failure."

As the world faded to black, the echoes of his own self-recrimination were the only company he had in his final moments.

[figure]:

I remember it like it was yesterday, though it feels like a lifetime ago now. The memories come rushing back, unbidden, like a flood breaking through the dam of my consciousness.

I was always a solitary figure, content to fade into the background rather than stand out. In hindsight, perhaps I should have reached out more, made an effort to connect with those around me. But it's easy to see things clearly in retrospect, isn't it?

I remember the missed opportunities, the chances to forge friendships that slipped through my fingers like grains of sand. How different my life might have been if I had just been a little more outgoing, a little more willing to step outside of my comfort zone.

And then there was the issue of my health. I've always struggled with my weight, always found excuses to avoid exercise and healthy habits. I told myself I would start tomorrow, that there was always time to change. But tomorrow never came, and now here I am, paying the price for my inaction.

But perhaps the most painful memories are those of watching a classmate endure relentless bullying. He was a gentle soul, much more than I ever was myself, and unlike me, he had the courage to stand up for what was right. I watched from the sidelines, paralyzed by fear and shame, unable to find the strength to lend him my support.

I could have fought back, could have found the strength to stand beside him in solidarity. But I didn't. I let fear and cowardice dictate my actions, allowing myself to be consumed by self-doubt and shame.

As I lay here, on the edge of oblivion, I accepted the horrifying truth... Everything I knew, everything I believed... It was all a lie. My world, my reality... is probably nothing but a meticulously crafted illusion. 

But it wasn't always like this. There was a time when I lived blissfully ignorant, when the world seemed so much simpler. I remember the day it all changed, the day I stumbled upon a secret that shattered my perception of reality...

It was 3 weeks ago

The morning sun cast a pale light as I trudged to school, shoulders hunched against the chill of the morning air. The bustling streets were alive with the chatter of students, their laughter and conversations blending into a cacophony of noise. I kept my head down, avoiding eye contact as I weaved my way through the crowd, a silent observer in a sea of faces.

Arriving at school, I slipped into the classroom unnoticed, taking my usual seat at the back of the room. The teacher's voice washed over me, a distant drone that barely registered as I stared blankly at the chalkboard. I made a half-hearted attempt to follow along with the lesson, but my mind wandered, drifting into the realm of daydreams and distractions.

As the day wore on, I performed adequately in my classes, neither excelling nor failing, just another face in the crowd. I answered when called upon, completed assignments with minimal effort, and blended seamlessly into the background. It was a routine I had perfected over the years, a defense mechanism against the harsh realities of school life.

When the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, I breathed a silent sigh of relief. I made my escape from the confines of the classroom, slipping out the door and into the freedom of the afternoon. The streets were quiet now, the chaos of the morning rush replaced by a sense of calm.

Returning home, I retreated to the solitude of my room, eager to escape the prying eyes of the outside world. I fired up my computer and lost myself in the digital realm of RPGs and fantasy realms, where I could be anyone but myself. It was a world of endless possibilities, where I could forget my troubles and immerse myself in adventure.

This particular day, I found myself facing off against a formidable boss, its monstrous form looming large on the screen before me. The battle was intense, each move calculated and precise as I fought for victory. But in the heat of the moment, I saw it—a glitch in the very fabrics of the universe, a flicker of movement in the corner of my eye.

I was distracted, my focus wavering as I struggled to reconcile what I had seen. And in that moment of hesitation, the boss seized its opportunity, delivering a crushing blow that sent me reeling. I watched in frustration as my character fell, defeated by my own carelessness.

I dismissed the glitch as a trick of the light, perhaps a product of too many hours spent staring at a screen. But deep down, a seed of doubt had been planted, a nagging suspicion that something was amiss.

The next day, as I returned to the familiar routine of school and gaming, the glitches followed me home, lurking in the corners of my room like silent specters. I tried to ignore them, to convince myself that they were nothing more than figments of my imagination. But as the days passed, the glitches intensified, growing more pronounced with each passing moment.

I remained skeptical, unwilling to entertain the possibility that my reality was anything but real. But as the glitches reached a fever pitch, I couldn't deny the truth any longer. Something was seriously wrong, and I was at the center of it all.

Despite my doubts, I decided to take action. With trembling fingers, I opened my laptop and created a blog, pouring out my experiences with the glitches and the strange occurrences that had plagued my life. I knew that most people would dismiss me as a conspiracy theorist or a crackpot, but I couldn't shake the feeling that I had stumbled onto something big. The fear of ridicule gnawed at me, but I pressed on, determined to share my findings with the world.

A few days later, as I walked home from school, the sun sinking below the horizon, I found myself passing by a dark alleyway. Instinctively, I quickened my pace, eager to escape the shadows that seemed to lurk at every turn.

But before I could reach safety, I was intercepted by a group of men in suits, their faces obscured by the darkness. My heart pounded in my chest as they advanced, their footsteps echoing off the walls of the alley.

"We know what you've been up to," one of them hissed, his voice dripping with malice. "You've been poking your nose where it doesn't belong, and now you've become a liability."

I felt a cold shiver run down my spine as I stared into the depths of his eyes, dark and empty like the void itself. The air seemed to grow thick with tension, suffocating me as I struggled to find my voice.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," I stammered, my words barely audible above the pounding of my own heartbeat.

But the man in front of me merely smirked, a cruel twist of his lips that sent chills down my spine. "Oh, I think you do," he said, his voice low and menacing. "And now you're going to pay the price for your curiosity."

I tried to run, to escape the clutches of my pursuers, but it was too late. With a sickening sense of inevitability, I felt a sharp pain in my chest as a bullet tore through the air, piercing my flesh. And as darkness closed in around me, I couldn't help but wonder if I had sealed my own fate with my curiosity.

As darkness closed in around me, I felt myself sinking into oblivion, the world slipping away like sand through my fingers. But just as I thought all was lost, a flicker of consciousness pierced the darkness, dragging me back from the brink.

I gasped for air, my lungs burning as I struggled to breathe, the metallic tang of blood filling my mouth. I was lying on the cold pavement, the dull ache of pain spreading through my body like wildfire. I tried to move, to crawl to safety, but my limbs refused to obey, weighed down by an invisible force.

And as I lay there, bleeding out in the darkness, I couldn't help but feel a sense of bitter irony. This was how it ended for me, not with a bang, but with a whimper—a pathetic end to a life filled with missed opportunities and regret.

"Th-this is it," I muttered, the words barely audible above the din of the city. "This is how I die."

I scoffed, the sound hollow and bitter in the empty alleyway. It was a petty way to go, a fitting end for someone who had spent their life hiding in the shadows, too afraid to embrace the light.

And then, as darkness threatened to consume me once more, I felt a strange sensation wash over me—a sense of weightlessness, of being lifted up and carried away on a tide of unconsciousness.

When I awoke, it was to the harsh glare of fluorescent lights and the steady beep of machines. I blinked, disoriented and confused, as the fog of unconsciousness lifted and the events of the night came flooding back with startling clarity.

I was in a hospital room, surrounded by sterile white walls and the scent of antiseptic. I glanced down at my body, half-expecting to see it ravaged by bullets and blood, but there was no sign of injury, no trace of the violence that had brought me here.

And as I lay here, grappling with the enormity of what had happened, a sense of unease settled over me like a shroud. This was only the beginning, I realized, the first step on a journey that would take me to the very edge of reality itself.