Darkness enveloped him.

It was not just the absence of light, but Sel could somehow feel the absence of everything. Scent, sight, sounds, even touch. There was nothing cold, nothing hot. Nothing bright, nothing dim. Just a floating darkness, with nothing to feel.

Sel tried to look up to where he fell from, but he couldn’t even tell whether he was looking up or not. For some reason, he felt disembodied, as though his body was no longer his. He attempted to wriggle his fingers, but he had no fingers.

What the fuck…? Sel could only think. He involuntarily took a deep breath, only to realize that he had no lungs. No nose. No chest heaving up and down.

He was simply himself – trapped in absolute silence and void.

Sel racked his brain, trying to think about what just happened. Shit, the Daily Quest expired. Is this the Special Event? Hey, Interface!

Nothing replied, no strange voice or vibration on his pocket. Not that he had any legs now, for that matter.

He tried to open his mouth, but his jaw muscles were absent. There was nothing at all, not a single physical part of his body remaining.

Sel couldn’t do anything, but only to drift in the void, except that he couldn’t feel any motion at all either. It was akin to being trapped in a coffin, buried fifteen feet under the earth.

But this time, it was a complete burial, with his mind alone for company.

What kind of Special Event is this anyway? Sel half-expected a reply, but none came.

He began to fidget, and if he had any hands he would be twiddling his thumbs now. Maybe I just have to wait it out.

Yet he had no track of time. Nothing around gave any semblance of progress, of motion, of being. He was just…. There.

Alone.

Alone.

Alone.

One, two, three… Sel started to keep count in his mind, trying to pace himself in what he thought was sixty beats per minute, marking each second, distracting himself from the void.

Fifty, fifty-one, fifty-two… how do I even clear the Special Event?

Three hundred, three hundred and one, three hundred and two,

Four thousand and five, four thousand and six….

Ten thousand eight hundred and seven, ten thousand eight hundred and eight… by the gods, how long is this going to take.

Twenty-seven thousand nine hundred and ten, twenty-sev—FUCK THIS SHIT! LET ME OUT! NOW! LET ME OUT!

As if on cue, a blinding light suddenly assaulted his eyes, a jarring alarm clock ringing violently on the table next to him as he shot up from his nap, the metal chair beneath him rattling slightly on the cold white concrete tiles.

“Hey, Selas! You’re up. See you tomorrow.” A stranger tossed a set of keys at him, clattering across the storeroom in which Sel found himself. “Don’t doze off too much, you hear?”

“Yea, yea. Have a good night.” Sel found himself replying automatically as though he knew the person instinctively. He pocketed the keys, headed out of the storeroom to the cashier, assuming the position that he had held for the last six months.

“Heya, welcome to Dirkins. How can I help you?” Sel muttered with a fake smile, facing an obviously upset customer, the first in the queue of a dozen who were all waiting to be served.

“The microwave isn’t fucking working, and I need this bowl reheated right now!”

“I think it was working fine just now…”

“WELL IT’S NOT WORKING NOW! FIX IT!” The customer slammed a meaty hand on the counter, the mints jingling in their metallic containers.

“Alright, uhhh… let me try…” Sel reluctantly moved over to the microwave in question, noticing that the power cable had been ripped out of it. Shit, someone nicked it again? He could feel the customer’s angry eyes drilling a hole in his neck, already bracing himself for what was to come.

“Sir, sorry, but this microwave is damaged, and it will take us three days to repla-“

“THREE DAYS? I want it fixed now! RIGHT NOW! You think I’m going to be an idiot and just stand here holding a cold bowl of noodles?”

“Sir, please calm down, I can boil a kettle of water as compensation.”

“I already filled the bowl up with water! I followed the damn instructions on the back?”

“Uhh….” Before Sel could offer another solution, a crash could be heard amidst the dense aisles of the convenience store, one of the aisles toppling over against the row of fridge doors as two aunties wrestled each other down to the ground.

“Hey, don’t make this harder than it already is; I took the bag of chips first; it’s mine now!”

“You don’t even have money for it, you fuck!”

“ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING?” Sel’s head was forcibly grabbed by the customer, swiveling him around to face the first upset customer. “HOW ARE YOU GOING TO SOLVE THIS?”

“Well, uhh, I could give you a refund and a compensation voucher.”

“I DON’T WANT A REFUND, I WANT MY FUCKING FOOD. NOW!”

“Hey, come on man, what’s the hold up?” An impatient customer hollered from behind the queue, earning a few agreements and nods.

“Sir, please calm down, or else I will have to call –“

“The police?!” The upset customer chuckled. “We’ll see if the police arrives in time before I blow your head off!” He pulled out a gun from his belt and shot a warning bullet into the ceiling, the rest of the customers in the store screaming and ducking for cover.

Sel instinctively crouched behind the counter as well, his hands raised in surrender. “Sir, please, don’t shoot!”

“Then you better compensate me for my fucking bowl of noodles!” The upset customer motioned to the cashier. “I want everything.”

“Sir, I can’t…”

“You really think your life is more important than some fucking Dirkins’ branch money? Give me that shit and maybe you can go home to your mother in one piece.”

Sel complied, quickly unlocking the cashier and handing over all the notes.

“Good choice, punk. Now call the police on me, and me and my boys will hunt you down!” The upset customer grabbed the demas, quickly backpedaling out of the store while waving the gun wildly, earning a few shrieks from the terrified woman. Even the original catfighting duo were subdued, crawling on the floor.

Letting out a sigh, Sel picked himself back up, dusting his uniform off as he glanced at the phone on the wall nearby. Should I call? But if I call….

The customers quickly evacuated the store, not wanting to hang around any longer. Some of them took the opportunity to shoplift whatever they were about to buy, running away and dispersing. The place was now in a complete mess, its aisles raided.

Just another day in Akama. At least I’m alive. Sel consoled himself, before picking up a broom and sweeping up the broken glass shards from the chaos, but as soon as he had begun cleaning, a stern businessman showed up at the front door, his face agape at the scale of the destruction.

“HEY! What the hell happened in here? Selas Trin!”

Fuck. “I err…”

“Did we get robbed again?”

“Yes, manager…”

“Why the fuck didn’t you do anything? Did you even call the police?”

“No sir, but I –“

“You fucking dumbwit! Why the fuck did I even hire you if you can’t protect the damn branch? I took pity on you because of your family situation before, but it looks I’m dead wrong.”

Sel wanted to lash out and scream at him, but instead his body instantly bowed. “Sorry, manager. Please let me keep my job.”

“Fuck no. This is the third time this has happened under YOUR watch! You better leave right this instant before I beat you up myself! And you can forget about ever getting a job at any Dirkins in this city!”

The loss of his job hit him harder than a truck, his body collapsing onto his knees as he crawled over to the manager, tears welling up in his eyes while he clutched onto to the manager’s pants. “Sir, please, I’m so sorry, please let me keep the job, I have to pay for my sister’s-“

“I don’t give two shits about what the fuck you have to pay for, not after all this shit. NOW GET LOST!” The manager kicked him over to the side, causing him to roll over the glass shards which grated on his back.

“Sir, please, I –“

“You got two minutes to get lost before I call the cops on YOU!”

Dejected, Sel immediately scrambled away from the store, limping down the street with blood splotches staining the back of his uniform, growing in size. Others avoided him like the plague, staying clear of him as he staggered through town, trying to get somewhere.

Everyone recognized him, but no one offered a hand to help him, each of them keeping to themselves. Sel didn’t blame them – he would have done the same and kept to himself.

After struggling through half an hour, he finally made it to his destination. A small floral shop, with beautiful flowers all laid out nicely. His tattered and injured self contrasted with the peaceful, colorful façade. Summoning his strength, he raised his voice. “Miss Angelina?”

“Coming! Just give me a few moments…. By the gods, what the hell happened to you, Sel?”

“I…. I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” Sel put on the same fake smile he always did, but it didn’t do much to convince her. She quickly put down her apron, immediately checking up on Sel.

“Who beat you up this badly? Did this happen at Dirkins? Was it a gang?”

“No… just a regular holdup. At least I’m alive.”

“Yes… but you’re in a terrible state. You should go to the hospital quickly, do you need me to call you an ambulance?”

“No, no need. I’ll just rest at home tonight. I’m here to pick up my flowers.”

“Really? You can’t do it in this state, at least take a bath at my house.”

“I’ve been doing this for years, Angelina, I can handle it…” Sel muttered, his head a bit woozy but he still stood firm.

“Okay, but you better take good care of yourself.” Angelina ran to the back of the store, bringing out a bunch of chrysanthemums wrapped nicely in a bouquet. “Say hi to him for me if you’re passing by.”

“I will.” Sel nodded, taking the flowers in one hand and limping off into the distance, Angelina staring at his figure disappearing through the crowded street.

As he staggered through the city, the buzz and din began to diminish over distance, soon finding himself further and further away. He walked tirelessly, struggling through desolate neighborhoods, bombed-out houses, and burnt-down buildings.

No one sane lived in this part of town anymore, and anyone who still stayed here didn’t have a choice. Sel was one of them, but instead of returning to his abode, he focused on his goal, walking towards a familiar landmark.

Instead of seeing a pair of grand wooden double doors, all that was left was ruins, the stone pillars and tainted glass windows already excavated, stolen by others to build their own houses and apartments. None of the prayer mats were left behind, all looted by self-serving citizens of Akama, uncaring to the downfall of the temple.

Sel hardly felt anything any longer, instead trudging along the remnants of the stone walls, trying to reach the backyard of the temple. There, amidst a row of tulips and roses, laid three gravestones.

Approaching the first of the gravestones, Sel pulled out a single stalk of chrysanthemum from the bouquet before laying them down one by one, one for each of the gravestones.

After placing them, he knelt down, holding the bouquet in his hands as he clasped them together in reverence, bowing repeatedly. “Mom, your son is back. I…. Please don’t worry about me; things are going well. I’m sorry that I couldn’t take care of you, but….”

Sel’s words were choked in his throat, not knowing what to say. The fact was that he had let his mother down. With no university education and no real skills, he had initially been relied to the meager salary of the temple to tide them over.

But when his aunt’s debts were overdue, the bank took the house as collateral, leaving them stranded on the streets, with nowhere to go. Staying in the temple worked temporarily, but it wasn’t to last.

Bowing a few more times, he moved over to the second gravestone. “Shaman Peris, I hope you’re doing well in heaven, Angelina said hi too… I…. I’m sorry for not protecting you… I’m so sorry….”

Sel knew that he was not even there when Shaman Peris was arrested by the police for hiding Mason, the shaman eventually succumbing to his illness in prison. Without him, the temple began to fall apart. As much as Sel worked to save it, it only got worse over time, eventually having to give up the land around.

He bowed again, but kept his head close to the ground, afraid to come face to face with the third gravestone, the hardest of them all. All of the failures he had experienced in the last thirty-eight years were too much to bear when it came to her.

“Sis…. I’m back too… It’s been a year since you went to a better place…?” Sel chuckled through his tears, sniffling as he placed the bouquet down in front of Felicia’s gravestone. “I’m so sorry for putting so much stress on you, I… I didn’t know how hard it was for you… I tried… I tried so hard…”

He broke down into an uncontrollable sob, knowing the truth – that if he had tried harder, Felicia wouldn’t have died of a drug overdose, homeless on the streets. “I failed you… I failed all of you…. If only I had the strength….”

At this moment, the current Sel suddenly snapped out of it, but his older body was still uncontrollable. It was as though he was watching through the eyes of himself, yet being completely separate. Like an observer trapped in his own body, with no control whatsoever.

This… is this the future? Me in the future? Sel’s heart plummeted as he watched his older self keel over in extreme despair and sadness, crying his heart out for the whole world to hear. Yet his family was dead, all because Sel couldn’t do enough.

This is the future where I didn’t get the System. Sel recognized all the apparent points – him not being able to get a proper job, the Shaman being the father of Mason and protecting him, and his mother and sister suffering. The outcome of inaction seemed to be worse than what he had in his current timeline.

Yet, Sel still felt a lingering sense of responsibility. That it was entirely his fault that any of this happened. That the Shaman died. That Gideon’s family was ripped apart. That his own family was separated. All because of the System.

But if he did not have the System, he would have ended up like this, with a meaningless job and a dead family. No, that’s not true. I could have done something different. Done something better in this alternate future to not end up like this. I could have maybe worked my way out of this ending even without the System –

Just like that, an epiphany hit Sel like a truck, a realization so deep that it shook his very core. Suddenly, his view and world around morphed, the older Sel dissolving and merging into a familiar scene from his past.

“This current life is but a small part of a long journey through the cycles towards paradise. Good things come to those who persevere, to those who are willing to move beyond what is the now, and strive for the future. For what good is despair without action? Do not forsake the future for the past, for the past shall never return.” The shaman spoke, waving his hands as Sel watched his father’s coffin be cremated.

“Our actions and memories live with us forever, but it is when we accept it, that we can create something better. Something worthy of those who have gone before us. To a better person. Isn’t that right, Sel?” The shaman suddenly turned towards him, giving a wide knowing smile.

Sel couldn’t reply, having no control over his younger body, but in his heart he clenched a fist. You’re god damn right, Shaman Peris. And I’m going to be better. Better than I ever was.

“That’s the spirit, kid. Never give up. You’re the Aspect of Tenacity, remember? People out there still need you. No time to die.”

Sel suddenly realized that there was still plenty of things to be done. The temple was still around, along with Angelina and the orphans. He had to take care of them, that duty was now his. He had to live, for the Shaman’s sake. For his family’s sake. For everyone who was still waiting for him.

I’m done moping. Now how do I get out of the Special Event?

“Leaving so soon? I would have thought you would have wanted to talk to me more.” The shaman chuckled, walking up to Sel.

You’re just a figment of the System.

“Maybe I am, maybe I am not.” Shaman Peris shrugged. “Or maybe I am a figment of your imagination. Does it really matter?”

I…. I guess not. I’m sorry, Shaman Peris. I’m sorry for everything.

“Don’t be sorry, kid. Be better. By the way, try not to fail the daily quests again? It’s not always going to be the same Special Event.”

Is this the Shaman talking, or is this the System talking?

“Whatever you believe. Well, look like it’s time to go.”