The sound of the old alarm clock on his desk was giving him a headache. Chris, with dry eyes from oversleeping, stretched his hands toward the small table beside his bed and, with a weary body, finally silenced the ringing.
"Damn it, why does my head hurt so much today?"
Chris slowly pushed aside his blanket and got out of bed. As he massaged his stiff neck, he looked around his room with a sense of longing—a room filled with awards and various posters. Posters of galaxies and stars adorned the walls, alongside trophies, all earned from his victories in science competitions. What a load of nonsense...
Chris headed to his bathroom, and after spending a few minutes there, it was time to brush his teeth. He brushed carefully, staring at his reflection with hatred and wide eyes. After rinsing his mouth, he left the bathroom and walked to his wardrobe. Chris put on his best outfit: a white shirt, a black jacket, and gray trousers.
"Glad it still fits me."
After dressing, Chris combed his hair and slipped a letter from the small, old desk in the corner of his room into his jacket pocket. Without hesitation, he opened his bedroom door. As he descended the stairs from the second floor, he gently ran his hands along the blue walls of his house. Passing through the living room, he opened the front door and stepped outside.
The street was completely empty—no cars, no people. It was as if the city had died.
With his hands in his pockets, twenty-one-year-old Chris began his day—a day he knew would end all too soon. He stepped onto the sidewalk and, with the sun yet to rise, walked slowly, replaying his memories.
Christopher Ryde, born in the city of "Avan," had been a smart and creative child from a young age. He always dreamed of following in his father's footsteps as an astronaut and astronomer. Throughout his childhood, Chris ignored his surroundings and the people around him, focusing solely on his path—a path that meant everything to him. Chris was a reclusive yet kind and polite child to his family and those around him. He always believed that with hard work and determination, he could achieve all his goals. But fate never unfolds the way we want it to. Before the age of fifteen, Chris lost his father—the role model of his entire life—in an experimental rocket explosion. Soon after, his mother, unable to bear the grief of losing her husband and the love of her life, took her own life. Before Chris could attain the extraordinary future he had always imagined, his life crumbled. He spent the rest of his days in depression, yet he still fought to hold onto his goal—the only thing left for him in the world. But it seemed fate harbored a deep grudge against Chris, for he was also rejected in the Simorgh International Space Agency exam. For a boy who had dedicated his life to his passion, this was the end of everything.
After a relatively short walk through the familiar, memory-laden streets of his city, and after mailing the letter he had brought with him, it was time for a hearty breakfast. Chris went to the nearest restaurant and sat at a table next to a small, lush tree. He called the waiter and ordered as much as he could: a breakfast of walnuts, jam, cheese, eggs, and natural fruit juice. How delightful and delicious.
"I can't even remember the last time I had breakfast! Has it always tasted this good?"
After finishing his meal, he set off again. Crossing the city's wide, empty streets, he eventually reached its famous, massive bridge—a bridge connecting the western and eastern parts of the city, known as the "Seven Skies Bridge."
As the sun slowly rose, its soft, faintly warm light fell on Chris's face. He walked along the edge of the bridge, running his hands over its cold, red railings. Chris kept swallowing hard, trying to keep his sorrow buried inside, but every glass overflows once it's full—and Chris was no exception. He began to cry, tears no one could see. In fact, there was no one left to see them. Finally, he reached the middle of the bridge. After staring at the sea and its gentle waves for a while, he moved to the other side of the railings. He took a deep breath, his heart pounding, and looked up at the sky. Chris was terrified, but he no longer saw any hope for himself. The only thing left for him was "death."
"I'm so scared. Did my mom feel like this too? This loneliness, this emptiness in my heart that nothing else can fill?"
Though he was overwhelmed with fear, Chris finally closed his eyes and let go of his hands. He ended his life, throwing himself from the city's tallest bridge into the sea below. As he fell, he saw every moment of his life flash before him, accepting them as he prepared to face death. Moments after hitting the water, his bones shattered, and unable to breathe, his lungs quickly filled with water—a painful death for a boy who, in his final years, had known nothing but pain.
Death was the end of everything for him—or at least that's what Chris thought. To his shock, he awoke with a loud scream, caused by the pain of drowning. Rapid breaths and the terror of sinking into the sea made him lose his senses for a moment. He frantically ran his hands over his body, over the parts that had been shattered in the fall, but there were no fractures. Astonishingly, his body was completely intact and healthy. What he didn't notice at first, however, was his surroundings. Chris was in a completely white space—a place where no sound could be heard, an eerie, endless void. At first, he was utterly confused, but as he stood up, he began examining himself and his surroundings. He was completely naked, and every step he took remained silent. Aside from the words coming from his mouth, no sound could be produced—not his footsteps, not his clapping hands, nothing but his voice. As fear began to creep in, he suddenly saw a mysterious figure before him—a being he wasn't sure was human or merely an illusion.
"What are you?"
With his voice echoing in the endless white space, the humanoid, white figure began to clap. It was a faceless, skinless humanoid, its body entirely white, and the only sound it made was the clapping meant for Chris. Terrified and unable to bear the trembling of his hands any longer, Chris shouted again, his voice quivering with fear and anxiety: "What are you? Where am I? Am I dead?"
The mysterious being stopped clapping, and suddenly, numerous eyes appeared across its body—eyes with hexagonal blue pupils. The sight was a living nightmare for any human, no matter how brave. Chris was so frightened that he threw himself backward, clutching his head against the ground, screaming and begging the mysterious figure not to come closer. But soon, a hand reached toward him. Panting heavily from fear, Chris peeked at the being from beneath his eyelids. He saw a mouth appear on its face. How could something like this be real?
Fear consumed Chris entirely, but in that endless place, there was nothing—not even a way to escape.
"Calm down, kid. I just want to talk."
Chris slowly opened his eyes and, from beneath his eyelids, stared at the mysterious being whose voice sounded human.
"What are you? What do you want from me?"
The being smirked and, bringing its hand closer to Chris, said:
"I'm 'X.' What I am or who I am depends entirely on you."
Chris's trembling hands betrayed his fear and anxiety, but for a boy who had just taken his own life moments ago, there was no choice but to take the hand of the being calling itself "X." With hands he couldn't stop shaking and frightened eyes, he finally let the mysterious figure help him up. After a moment, Chris said in a shaky voice:
"Okay, now what? Are you going to tell me what's going on here?"
Despite X's terrifying body and face, it gave a warm smile and, clasping its hands behind its back, replied:
"Look around, kid. My mind is as simple as this white space, so I'll give you simple answers. Yes, you're dead."
The answer was shocking yet expected for Chris. Swallowing hard, he rubbed his anxious face and began pacing, circling himself. He couldn't forget the moments of drowning or his bones shattering in the cold water. Those memories rang in his head like a loud bell, sinking him deeper into himself with every passing second. X, growing impatient, sighed and shook its head in disappointment. Turning its back to Chris, it began walking away. Realizing he was alone in that endless space, Chris started running after X with all his might. When he caught up, he began repeating his questions—questions that increasingly exhausted the mysterious being. Finally, in a swift motion too fast for Chris's eyes to follow, X placed a finger on his lips and said in a kind, warm voice:
"Calm down. You'll get all your answers, but one at a time."
With a snap that echoed through the space, everything went dark. The white void turned into a black one, and moments later, it was illuminated by a glowing orb. At first, Chris couldn't tell what it was, but then he realized it was a planet—a virtual image of a massive planet, far larger than Earth. More confused and stunned than ever, Chris raised his hands in bewilderment.
"What is this? This isn't an answer to my questions!"
With slow steps, X began circling Chris and the planet. Shrugging its shoulders, it replied in a serious, determined tone:
"You asked what I am. I'm what mortals call a 'god'—a unique creator."
Chris, pale and shocked, said:
"A god? Are you joking with me?"
Ignoring Chris's words, X raised its voice.
"I've watched you your whole life, Chris. A human who had everything—everything—but never got the chance to make use of it."
With a smile and a mocking tone, X continued:
"You're someone we could call unlucky."
For Chris, X's words were like a dagger in his heart—not because they were cruel, but because they were true. Throughout his life, Chris had everything others dreamed of: amazing parents, a healthy body, an attractive face with black hair and green eyes, boundless intelligence, and endless creativity. But in the end, a single event—a slip, as X called it "bad luck"—took away everything that made him whole. This truth left Chris defeated and silent. He lowered his head. His fear of the god before him vanished, replaced only by pain and helplessness. Seeing Chris's expression and depression, X flashed another mysterious smile and continued:
"Of course, you may have been unlucky yesterday, but today, you have a chance."
With a pale but surprised face, Chris lifted his head.
"A chance?"
Raising two fingers, X spoke with an eager tone:
"You have two paths before you. You can fulfill my wishes and earn a fresh start in my world, or you can return to your own world and face hell. Isn't that the punishment your god set for you? Eternal damnation for those who take their own lives."
For Chris, X's words were a nightmare. He still couldn't believe what was happening. The pain of losing his loved ones and himself was tearing his mind apart. Suddenly, he found himself surrounded by endless agony pressing on his heart. His body began to tremble, unsure whether to answer the being before him or curse himself and his grim fate. For a long, uncountable moment, he stood still, lost in thought. Meanwhile, X watched him with all the eyes spinning across its body, waiting for an answer. Finally, in a quiet voice filled with doubt, Chris said: "What will you give me in this new world?"
In the blink of an eye, X leaned close to his ear and whispered:
"Everything—a new family, an amazing body, anything you could want—I've prepared it all for you. At first, you might not be able to accept your new parents, but in the end, you'll come to accept them and even fall in love with them. I promise you that. All you have to do is take my hand and accept my offer."
With a proud, slow step, X flashed a mysterious smile, baring its teeth to Chris, then extended its hand. Chris was overwhelmed with turmoil. Perhaps it was a choice born of desperation, perhaps madness, but for him, a second chance meant everything. With trembling hands he couldn't control, he slowly reached out and took X's hand. At that moment, X burst into laughter—a joy that, to Chris, seemed like insanity—radiating from the god before him. The eerie laughter continued for a while until, with boundless energy and delight, X spoke:
"You accepted it! You really took my hand and accepted my offer!"
Staring at the ground, Chris replied:
"Okay, now what?"
With a snap that unleashed a massive sonic wave, the space reverted to its previous state. Chris clutched his ears in pain and stumbled back a few steps, only to find himself inside a glowing hexagon. Soon, he felt an odd coldness in his toes. Looking down, he saw he was sinking into a black, viscous liquid—a cold, dark substance consuming his body. Shocked and terrified once more, Chris screamed:
"What's happening?"
Clenching its fists, X said to Chris in a serious tone:
"I'll come for you in a decade and tell you what you need to do for me. But until then, enjoy your new life."
Realizing he was entering a new world, Chris regained his calm—or perhaps he no longer cared. In that moment, only one question lingered in his mind, which he asked X in a sad, depressed voice:
"Can I ever be happy again?"
Chris's question held special meaning for X. It couldn't answer, for even X had its own understanding of happiness—one it was certain Chris couldn't grasp. So, it turned its back to him and, in a cold tone, whispered:
"Good luck, Mr. Callimore."
Without receiving a response, Chris sank into the black liquid and vanished. For a few moments, he reflected in solitude until an angel appeared behind him—a faceless angel with white wings, golden armor, and a spear tipped with a sun-like shape. The angel hesitated, lacking the courage to ask its question, but after much internal struggle, it spoke:
"My lord, are you sure this human is the right choice?"
At that question, the surrounding space trembled, for X saw it as a direct insult. All its eyes turned red, glaring at the angel.
"You dare doubt me?"
The angel, trembling with fear, prostrated itself before its god and replied with utmost humility:
"Forgive me for my insolence, great creator."
With the angel's apology, X sighed and stared ahead. Taking on a determined expression, it smirked and said:
"Do you think someone who's lost everything before would go to any lengths for their new possessions?"
With another snap, the virtual image of the massive planet reappeared before X. It grinned—a terrifying, sinister smile that bared its sharp, gleaming teeth like those of a shark.
"I didn't send a human to my world. I sent a monster."
[Welcome to X's world. Stay tuned for new chapters.]