FLASHBACK: Fourteen Months Prior to Present Day
Day 00-0645hrs
In the quiet solitude of an empty bar nestled along *Hilltop Street, Bayyek awakens, his mind clouded with uncertainty as he attempts to piece together the events of the night before. With a searching gaze, he surveys the deserted room, finding it devoid of any presence, not even a whisper of the familiar *Sipet and *Marabutits. Upon the karaoke's expansive screen, bold text proclaims, "Congratulations, you are a singer, 97points, 32Kcals burned" accompanied by a sequence of numbers, likely denoting a queue of songs. Drawing nearer, Bayyek observes the display, noting its untouched state, a sign of neglect over time. Meanwhile, the once orderly arrangement of chairs and tables now lies in disarray upon the concrete floor, hinting at a sudden departure, as if the occupants fled in haste.
As Bayyek rises from his seat, a dizzying sensation overtakes him, causing his surroundings to spin. With a staggering step, he nearly loses his balance, saved only by the sturdy embrace of a nearby concrete post. Seated once more, he pauses to collect himself, drawing deep breaths to steady his spinning senses. With resolve, he exhales a sigh tainted with the scent of decay, filling the room with its unsettling aroma. After a moment of composure, he summons the strength to rise once again, determined to confront whatever challenges lie ahead.
Bayyek strides toward the yawning entrance, venturing into the dimly lit corridors of filth that lead him down the stairwell and onto the supposedly busy street of Hilltop. A somber morning greets him, shrouded in a thick fog that threatens to engulf the entirety of the streets in darkness. An unsettling feeling gnaws at him, for something is undeniably amiss. Desolate wide alley stretch before him, devoid of any sign of life save for the cat-sized sewer rats that scuttle through the narrow concrete creeks and drainage, indifferent to the eerie silence that pervades the air. Doubt creeps into Bayyek's mind, casting uncertainty upon his surroundings. Is he merely caught in the clutches of a dream, or are his eyes deceiving him with their tricks?
As the hangover grips him tightly, Bayyek's senses become acutely attuned, unable to bear the putrid stench that wafts through the air—a vile amalgamation of decomposing flesh and festering sewer refuse. Sensing the urgency to escape this noxious atmosphere, he resolves to depart from the accursed street. With hesitant steps, he ventures forward, only to find the roadside littered with abandoned vehicles, their emptiness serving as a grim testament to the desolation that surrounds him.
Amidst the clamor of rattling engines and the eerie silence that pervades the air, Bayyek's eyes fall upon the haunting scene before him. Countless cars stand idle in a solemn procession, their doors ajar and their engines silent witnesses to the desolation that has befallen the streets. As he surveys the bleak landscape, his gaze alights upon a series of tragic tableaus: a passenger jeep overturned on its side, a van entangled in the wreckage of a stall, and the lifeless form of a person lying beneath the wheel of a truck, their head severed from their body—a grim testament to the chaos that reigns supreme.
