Adam's attention was abruptly drawn to a strange sound.
A voice, disembodied, emotionless. echoed faintly in the distance:
"User is dead = tool is useless."
He couldn't understand what it meant. The words made no sense.
And yet… they unsettled him.
His pulse began to race. His blood surged through his veins like a warning signal. Fear crept into his expression, etching itself into the lines of his face. Something wasn't right. Time continued to tick. at least, on the watch fastened to his wrist, but nothing moved, nothing changed.
There was no answer. No solution.
No one to ask.
He was utterly, hopelessly alone.
Alone in a world frozen in time.
How could he find the truth in a place where nothing moved? Where would he even begin? What was he looking for, and what, or who, was waiting for him at the end?
Doubt began to suffocate him.
He felt lost. Directionless. A castaway in an ocean of stillness.
Hopelessness began to settle in his chest like ash.
One by one, everything he cared about slipped through his fingers: his friends, his wife, his family… all gone. Not dead; no, something worse. Suspended. Untouchable. Out of reach.
He stood in a crowded street that felt utterly empty. The people, mid-stride, mid-sentence. were statues of flesh and bone. The world was full of faces, but void of souls.
And in that silent crowd, Adam had never felt more alone.
His mind drifted to those he loved.
What if he never saw them again?
"If I can't fix time," he thought, "if I can't bring them back... then I'll go to them now. While I still can."
He would find them. Even if they were frozen. Even if they couldn't speak or move.
Even if it was only for a last goodbye.
His feet moved before his thoughts did.
His destination was clear:
Home.
Where Sara was.
Where she had always been.
The woman he loved.
The woman who loved him back.
Adam ran. Faster than he thought possible. Down streets that looked like broken dreams, past ghost-like figures trapped in time. Through this frozen city, this dead dimension, he sprinted. The only movement in the entire world was the second hand of his wristwatch.
At last, he arrived.
His apartment door was slightly open.
as if someone had been waiting for him.
Or... as if something inside had left it that way.
He hesitated, then stepped inside.
The air was thick. Wrong.
This place, once his refuge, now felt foreign. Hostile.
The walls pressed in on him.
The silence screamed.
Every surface seemed to reject him.
For the first time, Adam entered his home and felt unwelcome.
He walked slowly, cautiously, breath uneven. His heartbeat pounded louder with each step.
"Sara?"
He called her name softly, almost afraid of hearing nothing in return.
No answer.
He turned toward the bedroom door.
It was closed.
His chest tightened. That door was never closed.
He stepped forward, reached for the handle.
Locked.
"What...?" he whispered.
It needed a key.
His hands trembled as he dug into his pockets. He pulled out the familiar ring of keys, found the right one by instinct.
A slow turn. A quiet click.
He opened the door.
And then...
The keys fell from his hand.
His body froze. His breath stopped. His mind shattered.
There she was.
Sara.
Lying motionless on the floor.
Lifeless.
Drenched in blood.
The color of her warmth spilled across the floorboards.
His knees nearly buckled. Sweat coated his forehead. His vision blurred.
He wanted to speak, wanted to scream, but no sound came.
And beside her…
a note.
Folded. Waiting.
Untouched by blood, yet soaked in silence.