Ethan was too stunned to speak. He recognized this system instantly—after all, he had probably checked his millions of times over the past five years. It was the APOCALYPSE system panel, the very interface of the game he despised. Rectangular in shape, black with gold-edged highlights, its text shimmered ominously.
His mind whirred into motion. He swiped his hand through it, but his fingers phased uselessly. He blinked rapidly, hoping it was just an illusion—but no, it was as real as the air he breathed.
Then, the dots connected.
The blackout. The panel appearing.
"SHIIIIIT—"
This was APOCALYPSE's prologue. Exactly how the game started. First, the skies turned red. Then, the clouds swallowed the sun. Finally, the system panel manifested.
He looked around. Everyone else stood frozen, confusion etched on their faces, the earlier noise now dead. Their eyes darted in front of them, as if assessing something unseen.
It's not just me. They all see it too.
This was real.
His mind raced, scrambling to recall what came next in the game. His eyes widened.
He would appear soon.
Ethan had to leave. He needed to get back to his apartment—now.
But as he turned—
"Hi everyone, hope y'all are doing fantastic!"
A high-pitched voice, dripping with mock cheer, echoed through the auditorium, ending in a chuckle.
Ethan froze.
Slowly, he turned.
And there it was.
A creature, roughly the size of a basketball, floated mid-air, bathed in golden sparkles. It looked like a twisted parody of Yoda—metallic grey skin, oversized black eyes with glowing yellow irises, clad in a tiny black suit. To an outsider, it might've seemed cute.
But Ethan knew better.
This thing was pure evil.
"What the fuck is going on? Who the fuck are you?" a boy shouted, jabbing a finger at it.
"Language, please!" the creature tsked, still grinning. "I'll answer your questions… in due time."
"Is this some shitty prank?" a girl sneered.
"Ohhh, no no no," it giggled, voice saccharine. "As the Akashic Records foretold, your planet has been chosen as the host for the Cosmic God's Game!"
"Ew, cringe!" someone yelled. "Did the staff hire a bad VA for this? Worst prank ever!"
Laughter erupted.
Ethan's gaze snapped to the faculty at the front—but their faces were just as pale, just as lost.
"Hey, Yoda! Catch this!"
A football slammed into the creature's head with a dull thud, bouncing harmlessly to the ground. The thrower doubled over laughing, clutching his ribs.
The creature's smile vanished.
Ethan tensed.
A suffocating pressure erupted from the tiny being, crushing everyone to the floor. Screams tore through the auditorium as students writhed. Sweat poured down Ethan's forehead.
This thing could erase them all without lifting a finger.
The creature raised its hand.
The football-thrower levitated, trembling violently.
"P-please—" he begged.
The creature smiled.
Then—
SPLAT.
The boy exploded.
Chunks of flesh rained down. Blood splattered across rows of screaming students.
Ethan's stomach lurched. He'd seen gore in the game—but this? The smell? The warmth?
Real.
The creature's grin split wider, revealing rows of needle-like teeth. Its laugh was like nails on a chalkboard.
"Now," it asked, "are you ready to listen?"