"Congratulations, Mr. Nicotine," the receptionist said with a flirtatious smile.
Nicotine gave her a polite nod but said nothing.
'Now she notices me.' He thought, a flicker of schadenfreude passing through his mind. Just a few months ago, she hadn't even looked his way. But now that he'd landed a position as Vice Head of Department at BBT Limited the nation's top mining conglomerate her tone had shifted like night and day.
He stepped out of the sleek glass tower, the late afternoon sun casting golden hues across the skyline. The city buzzed below, unaware of the fate that loomed just above.
Outside, Nicotine paused. He took a deep breath and reached beneath his shirt, pulling out a simple, ancient pendant—its chain weathered, its surface scratched and dull.
"I did it, Dad… I didn't let you down."
His father Dr. Malcolm Hayes had been a celebrated archaeologist and explorer, known worldwide for his fearless ventures into the most dangerous and forbidden ruins on Earth. While others sought gold or fame, his father sought truth about lost civilizations, about humanity's forgotten past.
His final journey had taken him to the Osirion ruins in Egypt—a buried, pre-dynastic temple rumored to be older than time. There, he pursued legends of a celestial artifact said to channel energy from beyond the stars.
He never came back.
All that returned was a classified report and this pendant.
"Mom's going to be excited when I tell her," Nicotine chuckled. "Vice Head. She won't believe it."
His laughter was genuine, for once. Years of hardship, long nights, rejection, and ridicule it was finally behind him.
Then came the first scream.
High-pitched. Real.
Nicotine froze.
More followed panicked, frantic. People were yelling, running, pointing at the sky.
He looked up.
The clouds were gone ripped open like paper. The sky glowed crimson as flaming meteors tore downward like vengeful gods descending to Earth.
Gasps turned into shouts. Phones dropped. Traffic screeched to a halt.
"Are those… meteors!?"
"Call the police?!"
"It's punishment from God"
"It's the end! God, we're all gonna die!"
"RUN!"
Chaos broke out. A mother clutched her children and dashed across the street, nearly getting hit by a speeding car. Vendors abandoned their stalls. Strangers screamed at each other—some begging for help, others too terrified to move. Fights broke out over cars, rides, exits. Looters smashed storefronts within minutes.
BOOM!
A meteor slammed into the far end of the block, obliterating a row of shops. The shockwave shattered glass across a hundred meters, sending people flying like rag dolls.
Nicotine stumbled back, heart pounding. The air itself had changed—thick, hot, vibrating with pressure. He could hear nothing but a dull ringing in his ears.
"No… no no no. Not now. Not when I just made it…"
He turned to run but another meteor slammed into a nearby overpass. The explosion sent a bus crashing through the sidewalk, flipping through the air like a toy.
A shard of twisted metal spun out from the wreckage.
THUNK.
It pierced Nicotine's chest.
Pain like fire.
He fell hard, blood blooming from his shirt. Screams faded into the background as the world blurred around him.
"Why me…? Why now...?" he gasped, struggling to breathe. "It's not fair…"
Tears mixed with dirt and smoke. His hand reached for the only thing he had left the pendant. Fingers trembling, he clutched it, desperate for something, anything.
Then
Light.
The pendant burst to life, glowing with a radiant crimson blaze. Time slowed. The air froze. The noise vanished.
And his soul was pulled.
Dragged into the unknown.
Through fire. Through death. Through silence.
.....
"Didn't I die...?"
Nicotine's voice echoed into the void weak, disoriented, barely more than a whisper carried on the edge of consciousness.
He opened his eyes or what felt like eyes. But there was no body, no heartbeat, no breath. He existed in a formless state, floating in a realm of pure nothingness.
Not black, not dark absence. It wasn't a color. It was the endless void one sees behind closed lids, stretched across infinity.
"Where… is this? The afterlife? Tch… doesn't look like much."
His voice sounded both near and distant, like it belonged to someone else.
Only then did he notice it a slow-moving river, flowing silently beneath him. Not made of water, but light. Wisps of memory, dreams, and stars flowed like liquid stardust across its surface.
"A river...? The Yellow River of souls?" he whispered, awe creeping into his tone. "Maybe I really am dead…"
He drifted closer.
As he gazed into the current, visions erupted in his mind—his childhood, laughter with his mother, hiking ruins with his father. Then, faster: his teenage years, his struggles, his father's funeral, his first job interview…
The stream showed not just his life but all life.
He saw the rise and fall of empires, the march of prehistoric beasts, the formation of Earth, and the silent chaos of the cosmos birthing galaxies. Finally, everything spiraled inward until it condensed into a single, colorless orb of matter.
"Is… is that the origin of everything?" Nicotine gasped, his soul trembling. "The source?"
Then he saw it.
A figure stood before the orb. Human in shape but veiled in shadows. The man reached out, cupping the primal orb in his hands. With a flick of his fingers, he separated a shard of it like tearing light from light.
"With this… I should be able to forge it," the man muttered, his voice ancient and calm, like thunder beneath still water.
Nicotine held his breath or would have, if he still had lungs. The figure turned, and for the briefest moment… their eyes met.
The being blinked.
"Hm? You're here already?" the man said casually, as if Nicotine had stumbled into the wrong room. "Well then. No need to linger."
With a wave of his sleeve, the space itself bent. A powerful, unseen force wrapped around Nicotine's soul and hurled him forward into the river's current.
"Ahhh!!!!"
Nicotine screamed as he was dragged into the stream of time and space. His soul spun, twisted, stretched drawn forward into something he couldn't comprehend.
And then
Blackness.