- Prologue

The idle rumble of the twenty year old, ramshackle beater car filled both its stuffy surroundings, and its own interior. Upon its worn out fabric seating, sat a man who's eyes portrayed that sensation of... Lethargy. Of being a person who had lost value in everything. From their acquaintances, their belongings, and even to himself.

In these days, little was capable of entertaining him. Of occupying his mind enough to just barely skirt past the monotonous droll of the uneventful hours. Of leaving for work in the morning, and returning in the evening. With no one to come home to. No pet. No wife. Not even a bastard child. It was this sort of life that this man lived. The government of his nation had long since imposed strict rules upon its populace, intense curfews that restricted all... No matter of age or how much of an adult they were considered to be. You could drink, smoke, and fornicate all you liked, as long as it was nearly entirely alone and not past seven in the afternoon. Romance was rare, let alone human contact other than one's workforce. Those they interact with everyday at the water fountain, before returning to their cubicles or factory blocks.

Freedom was long since gone, and forgotten by the people. This man, who's name is most... Unimportant, had only one free choice left to make. He'd already written what he'd needed. Already told those who mattered, of which were few. He'd signed the papers of release... None of his belongings would go anywhere, only to the government. Of that they could assure him, and that they'd completely wash out anything that could possibly contain a smidgen of data.

The man sighed, and a creak filled the too-small car garage as he pushed open the door of the vehicle, and stepped out. Barely a foot of wiggle room stood between the car and the wall, but that was normal. These stack-clustered car garages optimized storage capacity and security, no one would rear-end your bumper if there was a door in the way.

He turned, and made his way around the car to the other side, and entered his small apartment. 634 sq ft, barely enough to live and be comfortable. A harsh beep stung its way into his ears, and he turned his head slowly... To see his in-wall mailbox's light blinking red. He opened it, and within was a small delivery box... Barely bigger than a mug. It had arrived.

With the box, he stepped further into his opening room, which served both as a kitchen and living room... And sometimes bedroom. His shoes came off, and placed neatly on the rack. He settled into his one-person couch... Loveseat, or perhaps recliner. It didn't recline, but was barely comfortable enough to be better than a normal chair. So he called it his couch. The box was set onto the end table next to it.

He turned on the twenty inch screen, and flitted through the first few channels with boredom. He stopped, after giving up on the poorly written entertainment, and focused his attention onto this box. He opened it, after struggling with the extra-strength taping used to seal it. Within, was the sight of a single, tiny oval cylinder. Likely filled with chemicals he couldn't pronounce... It was the government's patented sure-fire way to exit reality. Quick, painless, and they claimed you wouldn't even notice the process occurring.

The man sighed, and leaned back in that chair for a moment. His eyes glued to the ceiling, as he thought. Whether to continue, or to finish his fight. This struggle of life that held no meaning, that had no end goal.

He came to his decision, as he'd made it several weeks ago when he'd purchased it.

He grabbed one of his half-full and definitely flat cans of carbonated soft drink, and dropped the pill into it. It fizzled, and visibly dissolved into the liquid. He sloshed it around, peering through the small hole in the top of the metal can at the dark liquid within. Darker now, it seemed, more than ever.

A deep breath before, and then he swung the can up to his lips, and tilted back his head. Ever drop of liquid downed in an instant, and he settled the can back onto the end table. Nothing.

'Well, I might as well see what I can watch before the end times come,' he decided.

And so, he picked back up that remote, and resumed to flit through the channels... Past defunct commercials, canceled shows that were written about as well as political speeches to an audience that had no choice but to say yes. Finally, he did actually find a show he used to watch... And it was a rerun of his favorite episode. He always did like that little yellow square, as a child... It was too bad that the writing turned to shit. His eyes grew heavy, but he continued to watch... His favorite part... It was just... Up... Ahead...

Everything went dark.