I still remember that day.The day everything ged.

  It was the 7th of April, 2159, a sunny day.The kind of day that lures you outside, where the warmth of the sun feels like a gentle embrace. A young man was jogging through the quiet streets of his neighbourhood.

  He looked to be about 20 years old, around 1.90m with short bck hair and an athletic physique. His deep blue eyes, often lost in thought, had a peculiar iy, as if he were stantly searg for something just out of reach.

  The su down on him, the golden rays refleg off nearby windows and casting long shadows on the pavement. There was something peaceful about the m, but a tension hung in the air, like something waiting to happen.

  As he passed by a venieore, he slowed to a stop, intending to grab something for breakfast. The rhythmic sound of his sneakers on the pavement had gradually slowed to a soft patter as he approached the gss door. A faint smell of coffee and fresh bread wafted into his nose, and his stomach growled louder than before, reminding him of the hunger he had yet to satisfy.

  He gnced down at the shop’s entrance, expeg to see the usual “Open” sign glowing, but instead, there was a simple, blunt “Closed” posted in big red letters. A sigh escaped his lips.

  “What a paitered under his breath.

  The streets around him were oddly quiet. Usually, even at this hour, there were people out and about—getting their m fixes or hurriedly heading to work. But today, all that could be heard was the faint breeze rustling the leaves of nearby trees.

  He instinctively reached for his phoo check the time, his fingers brushing the cold gss s before pausing. Maybe everyone else was just still at home, taking their time, not like him, hurrying for breakfast.

  He decided to try his luck elsewhere, but shop after shop, they all bore the same sign: “Closed.” His stomach growled even louder now, demanding his attention. As he walked past aore with the shades drawn, it dawned on him what might be going on.

  “Ahh, it’s because of that game the Federation is announg today” he realized, his mind quickly jumping to the upi. Ever sihe Federation’s annouhat the new game God’s Path would be ung, it had taken over every versation, every forum. It felt like the whole world had paused to wait for it. People stayed home to tune in, whether they’d ever pyed games in their life or not. No work today, no erce—just focus on the game.

  His stomach gave another impatient rumble. ‘I’ll starve if nobody works today... Maybe I’ve got some snacks left at home?’After a moment of indecision, he decided to turn bad head home.

  It wasn’t far—a short jog back to his apartment. The neighbourhood was still as quiet as before, the world almost serene as it held its breath in anticipation of what was to e.

  He lived alone in a small apartment in a sprawling plex. It wasn’t much—just 50 square meters—but it was enough for one person, and that suited him just fine. His personal belongings were few. A basic bed, a worn sofa, a tiny desk piled with old martial arts books, and, of course, his device.

  He’d mao scrape by, w mostly online, never really needing much. His official status on the Federation’s record was “unemployed” but that didn’t bother him much; the Federation provided enough to get by. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for his needs.

  As soon as he stepped through the door, he kicked off his sneakers and started shedding his clothes as if they were weights. His eyes wandered across the apartment as he entered—a sparse room filled with just enough to get by. ‘A real cozy existence’ he mused. His stomach growled again.

  Walking straight for the bathroom, he threw his clothes haphazardly across the floor. The apartment wasn’t messy by any means, but there was definitely an almost lived-in quality to it—like he was only passing through life, just moving along. He didn’t want to lioo long. Today was the day the Federation had hyped up for months.

  But as he stood uhe warm stream of the shower, he realized something. His stomach wasn’t going to wait. The excitement, the chaos building around the God’s Path game, couldn’t stop his appetite from gnawing at him. With a huff, he rihe soap from his body and turned off the water.

  His thoughts briefly flickered to food. Food would help, at least give him the energy to enjoy the broadcast. He dried off quickly, threw on some fortable clothes—clothes that matched his lifestyle. Clothes for the zy, the ones with no particur pns, except today. His stomach growled in agreement.

  With a sigh, he walked into the kit, his bare feet padding against the cool tile. The fridge door opened with a familiar creak, and he sed the tents for something worth his time. He pulled out a carton of milk, gave it a quick shake to test its freshness, then decided against it. To. His gaze shifted to the shelves, where the real potential y. He opened a et, peering into the depths. After a few moments, his hand nded on a half-open bag of chips and a nearly empty jar of peanut butter.

  Sighing again—this was the state of his food situation—he grabbed the jar, dipped a spoon into it, and took a generous scoop. The smooth peanut butter coated his tongue in a familiar, f way. Simple, effective, and enough to take the edge off his hunger. He pulled a nearby chair to the ter and sat down, spoon in hand, as he absentmindedly surveyed the empty space around him, his thoughts drifting.

  After a few more spoonfuls, he wiped the excess from the spoon and stood, feeling satisfied enough to return to his inal mission. He left the kit behind, jar and spoon still in hand, and shuffled back toward the couch. The faint glow of his handheld deviow turned on and ready for the live broadcast, illumihe room.

  He grabbed his handheld devid plopped down on the sofa, staring bnkly at the dull walls before switg on the live broadcast of the Federation’s official annou.

  There was something oddly uhusiasti his approach to this event. Everyone was talking about it. But for him? It felt just like another viral sensation that would fade out after a few weeks. Sure, the grandiose promises of the game intrigued him, but there was just so much skepticism. How many “revolutions” had the Federation promised only to deliver failure? How many “breakthroughs” ended up being nothing more than profit-driven schemes? The game’s premise sounded ridiculous anyway. Godhood? A far-fetched fantasy dreamed up by marketers, perhaps.

  On the s, an austere news anchor, standing in front of a t, shiny structure—sleek, futuristic, almost awe-inspiring—spoke with somber iy.“It’s been fifty years since we first intercepted a signal from beyond our sor system” he started.

  The moment the anchor’s voice hit the airwaves, the man tilted his head, blinking a few times in surprise. The report was familiar—it had made it into the history books.

  “Huh, yeah, I remember reading about that” he mumbled to himself. “It was a huge deal. Back then, it felt like the world was about to ge. Stists and researchers went nuts over it. Those guys probably haven’t slept since.”

  The anchaze remaieady as he tinued. “This signal tained knowledge—teology far beyond anything we’ve ever dreamed of.”

  He yawned, pig up his snack. “Will I get my food faster with this?”

  He turned his attention back to the s.

  “This knowledge is what led to the creation of the game ung today—God’s Path. This is no simple eai. This is evolution in its purest form. And it’s a game that will ge humanity.” The anchor’s voice rose in a fever pitch. “The Federation has verified every cim, and I’m here to tell you what’s ing— it is real. And soon, we will be transformed.” The man paused, gasping as if the weight of his own words were catg up with him. He reached fss of water. The sudden break felt… awkward, almost forced.

  The man on the sofa, meanwhile, was unimpressed. ‘Godhood, huh?’ he mused. “Maybe I’ll bee the Thief God and start stealing everyone’s money and watch the whole world burn. Hahaha.” He chuckled at his own joke, not taking any of it seriously or maybe he just didn’t care.

  Then the anchor, after another sip, drew in a breath, clearly trying tain posure. “With the help of this signal, stists structed the Universal Tower. A moal achievement. This tower will ect our world to the vast universe. And…soon…” the anchor had to take in several mouthful of air “s-soon Humanity will receive a notification…a notification that will bring us closer to Godhood.” The reporter finally couldn’t take it anymore and started gulping water on live stream.

  ‘So we’re all pying pretend in some space fairy tale’, the man thought dismissively, taking a bite of his snack. ‘Wasn’t that the same rhetoric that corporations spewed every time they unched a new product? Another promise of better futures, gods, heroes, immortality’. He chuckled dryly.

  A sudden pause in the broadcast caught him off-guard. As the anchor readied himself for anrand statement, the man was interrupted by a fsh of light across his s—a notification lighting up with Jack’s name.

  “Jack—” he said aloud before being drowned out by Jack’s shouting over the call.

  “MAN, DID YOU SEE THE NEWS??? THIS IS FIRE!” Jack ractically yelling.

  “Yeah, Jack, I saw. I had a feeling you’d be pumped about it. Yetting way too excited already” He respoly.

  “Do you already know what kind of God you want to bee?” Jack shot out immediately. “The web’s already flooded with ideas and it’s only been five minutes!”

  “I was about to call you, you know.” The man muttered, running a hand over his face. "You and your over-excited pns." He caught himself almost smiling. Sometimes, he felt like Jaever grew up. He had known this friend of his since his childhood and even now, Jack had always been a child at heart, in some ways. “Actually, I had this idea—I’ll be the Thief God” he said, throwing his hands in the air, as if imagining it already. “ you imagihe perfect crime, except it's me, walking away from everyone else's stuff. That’s a real God!”

  Jack groaned audibly oher end. “Wait, hold up! A Thief God?! Really?” He paused, his incredulity only growing. “e on, man, why settle for a thief when you be something much bigger?”

  “How much bigger?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. "What do you propose, then?"

  Jack didn’t hesitate. “If this is anything like an RPG, we have the ce to bee the stro beings in the universe!” Jack ranted, his excitement evident. “It’s not just about pying with powers, we’ll have the trol over it all! Thief God, Federation, none of that will matter! Imagine everything in rasp!”

  The man's mind whirred as he thought about it. He didn’t buy into all of Jack’s ideas. Was it even possible? But the way Jack id it out made him sed-guess things. Would this game, for all its crazy promises, really give them god-like powers?

  With a smirk, He broke his silence. “Okay, Jack, say we could be the stro—how the hell do you know? For all we know, this whole game could be a scam, just some gover experiment. Remember, they’ve screwed us over in the past.” He sighed, his words nding like lead. He stared out at the bnd horizon.

  “You’ve never pyed a real RPG, have you?” Jack shot back.

  “Dude, you know I'm not into that stuff.” He snapped. “What good is knowing how to level up stats?”

  Jack’s voice sounded smug. “Stats, man! You increase your stats, you break everything! And maxed stats? That means we bee invincible. Literally the stro beings in the universe, if it works like the games!”

  The man sidered it. ‘It could be fuhought. ‘But still, a part of me feels like this is all going to fall apart the mihe notifications go live.’

  Right then, something strange happened.

  The grouh him trembled, a deep, zy rumble that finally forced him to look up from his snack. He frowned, annoyed as loose objects fell from the shelves, cttering to the floor. "Ugh" he muttered, eyes darting to the window where the light outside had gone… weird.

  Through the gss, he saw it—a bzing beam of light erupting from the Universal Tower, pung straight into the sky. He scratched his head, ued for a moment, before the vivid colors spilling across the clouds caught his attention. White, green, blue, purple—they ed and rippled in chaotic patterns, and then there was e. A heavy, uling e that hung like a bad omen.

  He squinted. "Huh. Looks like they’re going all out with the theatrics." He leaned against the wall, uned as his devices flickered, sparked, and died. The silehat followed was broken only by the faint hum of energy vibrating through the air.

  With an exaggerated sigh, he pushed himself to his feet and sauoward the window. Outside, the sky tis bizarre transformation, and the Universal Tower pulsed with alien patterns. It was impressive, sure, but he still wasn’t sold on the whole Godhood thing.

  And then he heard it—the voice. It was deep, eg, and lodged itself somewhere unfortable in his brain:

  [System initialization plete.]

  “Well…” He muttered, watg the window’s chaotic brilliance, his tone mog the impossible to e. “If this is the path to Godhood, I might as well enjoy the ride."

  And so…it began.

  A.N.

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