Chapter 0: The Last Day

  The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky, casting lazy shadows across the city’s rooftops. Lucas stood on the edge of a weathered brick building, peering down at the narrow gap separating him from the neighboring rooftop. His dark curls swayed gently in the breeze as he calculated the jump, every muscle in his body taut with anticipation.

  “Are you sure about this?”

  Sarah asked, her voice filled with concern and mild fear. She stood a few meters back, holding her phone steady, its lens trained on Lucas.

  “Yeah, man,”

  Jake chimed in, his camera already rolling.

  “That’s like… what? Seven? Eight meters? If you miss, you’ll go viral for all the wrong reasons.”

  Lucas turned to glance at them, a confident smirk playing on his lips.

  “Relax, if I thought I would go splat, I wouldn’t be making this jump at all. Just make sure you get my good side.”

  Jake snorted.

  “Dude, every side of you is about to be plastered online. Don’t mess this up.”

  Sarah rolled her eyes but kept her phone steady.

  “Focus, Lucas. You’re going to give us a heart attack one of these days.”

  Lucas’ smiled and mumbled to himself.

  “That’s the plan.”

  Lucas faced the gap again, his expression finally serious. His heartbeat steady as he visualized his future actions—push off with enough force, angle his body mid-air, and land with precision. He took a few steps back, his sneakers scuffing against the rough rooftop surface.

  “Alright,”

  He called over his shoulder.

  “Get ready. One take. No do-overs.”

  Jake laughed nervously.

  “We’re ready. Just… don’t die, okay?”

  Lucas didn’t respond. Instead, he took a deep breath and bolted forward. The wind whipped against his face as he sprinted toward the edge, every movement fluid and purposeful.

  Sarah’s breath caught as Lucas launched himself into the air, his body arching gracefully over the gap. For a moment, it was as if time slowed—the city below stretched out in a dizzying panorama, the sounds of distant traffic muted.

  ‘It was almost like I’m flying.’

  A broad smile spread on his lips at the fleeting thought.

  The landing came fast and hard. Lucas’s feet hit the rooftop with a resounding thud, his knees bending to absorb the impact. He rolled forward and expertly dissipated all momentum, getting to his feet in one fluid motion. He turned back toward his friends with a triumphant grin.

  Jake let out a loud whoop, his camera still fixed on Lucas.

  “Holy crap, dude! That was insane!”

  Sarah exhaled, finally lowering her phone.

  “I can’t believe you just did that.”

  Lucas shrugged, brushing some dust off his jeans.

  “Told you I could.”

  “Yeah, well, my heart definitely didn’t,”

  Sarah muttered, shaking her head. She tapped her phone’s screen.

  “But this? It’s going to blow up.”

  Jake jogged over to the edge of the roof where Lucas stood, holding out his camera.

  “You’re gonna get some serious clout after this one. I mean, look at this shot, it’s perfect!”

  Lucas took a moment to glance at the footage on Jake’s screen. The video captured everything—the daring leap, the perfect arc of his jump, the moment his feet met the rooftop, and his perfect roll. A sense of pride welled up in him as he handed the camera back.

  “Not bad,”

  He said with a grin.

  “Now let’s find the next one.”

  Sarah groaned.

  “Next one? It's already late and we have school tomorrow. What are you? An adrenaline junkie?”

  Jake laughed.

  “Yep, that’s Lucas for you. Always chasing the next high.”

  Lucas didn’t respond. Instead, he turned his gaze to the horizon, where the city stretched endlessly, rooftops calling to him like an open invitation.

  The next morning.

  Lucas woke up to the sharp, invasive sound of his alarm, the blaring noise tearing through the quiet of his room. He groaned, rolling over to slap the clock until the noise cut off, leaving a tranquil silence in its wake.

  His body felt heavy and sluggish, the early light filtering through his blinds doing nothing to wake him from the dull fog that seemed to settle over his mornings lately. His room was a controlled mess of mismatched trophies and medals. He also had a few posters of various athletes on his wall.

  His skateboard leaned against the wall on the way out, well-worn and decorated with stickers and scoffs. His sneakers were kicked off beside a pile of weights by his bed. On the desk sat an assortment of chalk bags and gloves, items of his various sports, but they looked more like they’d been tossed there mid-motion than actually stored.

  With a stretch, he pushed his dark curls out of his face and forced himself to sit up, blinking in the dim light. The mirror above his dresser caught his eye, drawing him up from the bed to face it. He shuffled over, leaning against the edge, and took in his reflection—tired eyes, deep brown, framed by dark circles that were becoming a permanent fixture.

  Another day. Another gray sky. Another routine of school, assignments, and the daily grind of just getting by. He let out a long, slow yawn, then dragged himself into the bathroom for a shower. The chill of the water managed to wake him, though just barely.

  Minutes later, he returned to his room, slipping into a pair of worn jeans and a faded T-shirt. His backpack, hanging limply on a chair, looked rather beat up and old, but he slung it over his shoulder anyway. Today, like every other day, it felt heavy. He then leisurely walked downstairs, skateboard in hand and backpack over his shoulder

  Downstairs, the smell of pancakes greeted him, warm and sweet, just like always. His mom stood by the stove, flipping pancakes with practiced ease, humming softly under her breath. The sound was comforting, like background noise Lucas had grown up with, part of the soundtrack of his life. Her care for him, through these small rituals, never wavered.

  “Morning, Lucas,”

  She said, not turning from the stove.

  “There’s breakfast if you’re hungry.”

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  He looked down at his watch and saw the time was already 7:05 AM. He would be late if he sat down for breakfast.

  “I’m good, thanks.”

  He said as he grabbed an apple from the counter.

  As he was about to turn and go, he noticed his mom’s laptop open on the counter. The screen showed a video paused on a familiar image: Lucas mid-air, leaping between rooftops, the cityscape blurring in the background. His mom was watching videos of his parkour stunts again. She took note of his gaze and spoke calmly.

  “You know, I worry about you doing all this… jumping around. These stunts of yours, they’re very dangerous, Lucas. You could get hurt.”

  He shrugged, biting into his apple.

  “I’m careful, Mom. It’s not like I go out there planning to fall to my death.”

  She frowned, glancing at the screen.

  “I know, but… you’re just so fearless. Sometimes I think you don’t realize how easily things can go wrong even if you know what you’re doing.”

  He brushed her off with a playful grin.

  “Relax, Mom. I’ve got it handled. Besides, who needs sidewalks when you’ve got rooftops? Anyways, love you. Byeeee.”

  “Lucas…” she started, but he was already stepping out the door, skating off down the driveway. The wind picked up as he sped down the street, feeling the familiar thrill of movement, of freedom. Skating wasn’t like parkour, but it was close enough. A reminder of the rush he chased, the sense of being untethered.

  He could still feel his mom’s gaze on him as he disappeared down the block, the weight of her worry pressing on him. She was always like that, always looking out for him, even when he didn’t want her to. It was very comforting, in a way he didn’t like to admit.

  The ride to school wasn’t a dull bus trip for Lucas; it was a thrill-seeking dash across the neighborhood on his skateboard. As he pushed off, gaining speed, he could feel the cool refreshing morning air on his face as he dodged cracks and dips in the road, his stance loose but his control absolute.

  He weaved between the thin lines of parked cars, picking up speed, and then shot across a narrow intersection, ignoring the honking car that slowed just in time for him to cross.

  To anyone watching, it might look reckless, but for Lucas, it was a calculated dance. Testing the limits of speed and balance, his heartbeat thrummed in sync with each push and glide.

  His mind tuned out the traffic and the noise, focusing on every detail of the ride—the grip of his shoes on the board, the slight adjustments as he took a sharp corner, the feel of the wind whipping through his curls.

  But then, in the corner of his vision, something flickered. He instinctively turned his head, and for just a fraction of a second, the world seemed to fracture. A jagged streak of shimmering colors—like a rainbow colored static—hung in the air above the asphalt, buzzing faintly before vanishing as quickly as it appeared. The sound of his wheels on the pavement snapped him back to reality, but the image burned in his mind, a surreal anomaly in the otherwise familiar morning.

  When he spotted a sloping curb ahead, he leaned forward, launching himself off with a jump. The board left the ground for a split second, a moment of freedom before he landed smoothly and coasted toward the school’s entrance.

  Lucas skidded to a stop just outside the school gates, the sound of his wheels catching a few stares, though he barely noticed the thought of that strange fissure still floating around in his mind.

  ‘What was that?’

  His friend, Jake, who was already waiting, began moving towards Lucas with a smirk across his lips as Lucas flipped the board up into his hands, looking deep in thought.

  “Dude, you’re actually insane,”

  Jake laughed, breaking Lucas out of his thoughts.

  “Every time I see you tearing down the street like that, I think, ‘This has to be the day he finally eats pavement.’”

  “Nah, man,” Lucas grinned, walking closer to his friend. “Gotta keep it interesting, right? Besides, I know what I’m doing.”

  As they walked into the courtyard chatting, they were joined by Sarah, who nudged him playfully.

  “So, have you checked the latest views on your videos? That rooftop jump’s almost at 150,000. People are going crazy over it.”

  Lucas raised an eyebrow, a hint of pride flashing through his tired eyes.

  “Almost 150,000? People can't get enough, huh?”

  Sarah gave him a pointed look.

  “You know you’re insane, right? Half of the comments are people convinced you’re going to end up with a broken leg.”

  “Or worse,” Jake added with a laugh. “It’s kind of a miracle you haven’t.”

  Lucas shrugged with a bright smile on his face.

  “Guess I’m just lucky.”

  They continued their conversation and weaved the crowd as the head for their first class of the day.

  Classes drifted by in a dull blur. The steady hum of teachers’ voices, the scratch of pens, and the low murmur of whispered conversations all faded into the background.

  Lucas didn’t pay much attention—his mind buzzed with what he saw this morning. Something about it felt really strange to him but he could not tell wha exactly. Eventually, he pushed out those thoughts by thinking of stunt ideas for his next video.

  But sitting still felt almost impossible, his body was just waiting for the next chance to move, to escape the confinement of the classroom walls. He caught himself drumming his fingers on his notebook, tapping out rhythms only he could hear, his gaze flickering to the clock every few minutes.

  By the time math class rolled around, Lucas’ patience had worn thin. Mr. Wilkins was scribbling equations on the board, his low, monotonous voice blending into the background. Most days, he barely registered—balding, with tired eyes that seemed half-asleep even when he was awake. Reliable but forgettable, like a droning noise you eventually tune out.

  Lucas tried to focus, but his mind kept drifting back to the flicker of that strange anomaly he’d seen that morning. What was it? A trick of the light? A glitch? The thought unsettled him, no matter how many times he told himself to forget it.

  Then, mid-sentence, Mr. Wilkins stopped. His hand froze mid-air, the chalk slipping from his grip and began floating in the air.

  For a moment, the class stilled. Pens paused, heads lifted, confused murmurs rippling across the room. Lucas straightened in his seat, the prickle of unease returning.

  “Sir?” a girl sitting at the front ventured.

  Mr. Wilkins didn’t answer. He turned slowly, his movements unnaturally stiff, and Lucas immediately noticed something was wrong. His face was slack, his eyes glassy and unfocused, but more than that—his skin seemed… off. It wasn’t just pale; it was translucent, faint veins spiderwebbing beneath like cracks in frosted glass.

  Crack!

  Suddenly, his head twisted to face the chalk board, snapping 180 degrees with an audible crack. The room erupted in gasps and muffled screams, chairs scraping as students backed away.

  Lucas froze, a cold weight sinking into his stomach.

  “Stay calm!”

  One of the students shouted, but their voice broke mid-sentence as the lights overhead began to flicker violently. Shadows twisted unnaturally along the walls, stretching and coiling as if alive.

  And then, it happened.

  The air around Mr. Wilkins shimmered. It rippled like heat waves rising from the asphalt, distorting his outline. And then the chalkboard behind him fractured—not into shards, but into jagged, glowing fragments.

  Each piece seemed to float, suspended in midair, and within them, Lucas glimpsed impossible scenes: burning red skies, oceans hanging upside down, cities twisting and breathing like living creatures, and enchanting paradises.

  Lucas’ breath hitched. The same jagged distortion he’d seen earlier now surrounded their teacher, spreading outward in waves. Mr. Wilkins’ body convulsed violently, his form tearing apart as if something far greater was forcing its way through him. His outline stretched and collapsed, pieces of him unraveling into glowing threads, leaving behind an ever-shifting void where he had stood.

  A noise, deep and resonant, filled the air—a sound that bypassed hearing and sank directly into Lucas’ bones. It wasn’t a roar or a scream; it was something incomprehensible, like the universe itself groaning under the unbearable strain of whatever was occurring in this classroom.

  Students began collapsing. Lucas could see Jake at the edge of his peripheral vision clawing at his face viciously as if trying to block out the sight and sounds. He could hear Sarah’s voice from behind him as she wailed and screeched, her voice completely inhuman from all her screaming.

  The class was in complete pandemonium. Students floated up, defying gravity as they unraveled like Mr. Wilkins. Others simply went limp where they sat, their expressions frozen in sheer terror and pain.

  Somehow unaffected, Lucas clutched his desk, his knuckles white, his mind raced as he tried to make sense of anything. He couldn't move a muscle and could only watch, his mind swam in confusion and sheer terror.

  ‘What’s going on??!’

  Nothing responded to his internal roar. The room around him blurred and stretched as gravity seemed to warp. Objects and people twisted and shifted unnaturally. His chair tilted beneath him, but he held on, feeling as though letting go would mean being pulled into whatever had taken the entire class.

  The void surged, expanding outward. Tendrils of pure light and shadow snaked out, brushing against the walls, the ceiling, the floor, and even the students. With every touch, the world shattered further, cracks spreading like spiderwebs.

  Lucas’ chest tightened when he saw what layed beyond the cracks. It wasn’t just the classroom—it was the world. Through the cracks, he could see… nothing. No stars, no light, no darkness. Just a void.

  Suddenly, he felt something. A presence—vast and incomprehensible, its awareness bearing down on him with crushing intensity. It wasn’t something he saw but something he felt. An infinite, formless consciousness that permeated every fiber of his being and every fragment of the collapsing reality around him. Its being was everywhere and nowhere, a sheer juggernaut of existence pressing against his mind.

  In that fleeting moment, Lucas understood one horrifying truth: this presence was not bound by form, logic or the constraints of any reality he could comprehend. It didn’t watch him—it encompassed him, an ancient force so utterly alien that his thoughts buckled under its sheer magnitude. Yet, even within its incomprehensible vastness, its attention was singular, suffocating. It was as though he had been plucked out of an endless sea and held aloft by something that had no need for sight, only will.

  The cracks widened, swallowing the classroom whole. Desks, chairs, students, the walls themselves—all dissolved into fragments of glowing dust, swept away into the abyss. Lucas felt his grip on reality slipping, the world disintegrating around him.

  And then, silence.

  Everything stopped.

  Lucas floated in a boundless void, his body weightless, his breath frozen in his chest. The presence lingered, suffocating in its enormity. He couldn’t move, couldn’t scream, couldn’t even think.

  A sound—or something like it—echoed in his mind. It wasn’t a language, but it resonated with a clarity that left no room for misinterpretation.

  /This was not meant to be./

  The void trembled, pulsing with a blinding light. Lucas felt himself being torn apart, not physically, but on a deeper level—his very essence unraveling, his consciousness stretched to its limit.

  In an instant, everything collapsed.

  The universe imploded on itself. Billions of years of growth change and countless celestial body gone it an instant. Everything went null.