Prologue: A Wretched Start

Vehicles rampant on the streets, it sure is loud but not to someone living on the third floor of their house. Well, it is loud, for him wearing headphones. In fact, it was so loud that if he were to take it off, the music would resonate inside his filthy room.

Windows were sealed as the outsides were vaguely clouded with the modern world's polluting gases. You really have to wear gas masks outdoors, unless if you're in the countryside.

—But there are no countrysides. "Dammit! Why don't humans evolve to adapt to this sickening environment?!" Says the boy who deliberately does nothing about it. Or rather, he's just too powerless.

It was recent since the government started life-expensing projects—that would actually help humanity continue its being—that would literally cost as much as building a city. These are what we call space ships. As large as an island.

That's right, none of these matter to the last generations of Millenials—probably the last.

Also! This boy is not even aware of such foreboding prophecy—A time that will eventually be the endpoint of all suffering—But of course there's also something else we need. We need it not to end. If were to describe it as lame, it would be, the chemical reaction in our brains that compels us to procreate.

They were only taught so much, and the very essence of such emotions was none, but only on love stories. Yet it was long forbidden from students' education.—They think of it as a hindrance—It was far buried by the priorities of society.

Stating of priorities, it was technological advancements that come first and is primarily for survival. Next, are the flawless morality and intellect of students. Then down to the third and so on, it would be whatever that is necessary for preserving the Earth's life-sustaining features.

Although it was none of the general priorities, love and affection do not defy good moral values—hence it's not necessitated to be illegal—but for some reasons, it is seemingly not right to manifest such behavior.

...

And now, how should we make this time worth living?!

We'll witness how, with this boy—that goes by the name Yu Kazeshi—seated on a gaming chair, first, will overcome the boundaries from humanitarian interaction.

But how? "...this gaming chair is really comfortable, I can say..." The only chance I get to interact with people is when of course, I'm at school. And by the way, schooling is tortuously compulsory.

Fervorously, with the game projected from his screen. Cursing on the mic every single minute. It leaves him to be identified as a potential subject for human experimentation. The gaming society proportional to the ever-growing population merely indicates the number of unproductive people.

There had been a global crisis lately.—In which there is a need to alter human behaviors.—Human subjects are prerequisite for research.

That's too much for the primal set of circumstances. The humanity perhaps, the world, is deliberately ending. All things fall. But the chance to redirect their fate is there. By all viable means, it's safe to say that the near end is inevitable. With this premise, therefore, what should be needed is a miracle.—Sure no one has thought of it by now, but despite such fact, the society still ponders through the best ways for delaying their doom.—Whatever it takes, all they can do is try to survive.