Silence ruled the void.
A shattered planet drifted through endless darkness, its surface turn apart as if reality itself had clawed at it. The ground was soaked in blood, thick and dark, spreading across the broken land like a cursed ocean. Three men lay motionless upon it, their bodies twisted, their faces locked in expressions of fear and pain. Whatever had happened here was beyond saving.
Then—darkness.
Morning light filled a modest home, warm and gentle, a sharp contrast to the nightmare that had just faded away.
"It's already six o'clock," a sweet voice called out. "You're late again."
Inside his room, chaos erupted.
"Oh shit—damn!" Andrew's voice cracked with panic as he scrambled around, grabbing books and shoving them into his bag. "Bye, Mom! I'm leaving! I'll be late today—and my friend's coming over too, so bye bye!"
His words rushed out faster than his movements.
From the kitchen, his mother laughed softly. "Alright, alright. Relax, Andrew. Take care."
Andrew barely heard her. He burst out of the house and sprinted toward the bus stop, heart racing as the morning air burned his lungs.
By the time he reached school, his legs ached.
The canteen buzzed with noise and chatter, but one boy stood apart, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the entrance.
Andrew rushed in, breathless. "Hey! Rubrical! I'm here!"
Rubrical turned, a grin breaking across his face. They slapped hands in a quick high-five—only for Rubrical to immediately smack Andrew on the head.
"You're late. Again."
Andrew groaned. "Wasn't today the Gaming class?"
Rubrical sighed, shaking his head. "Was. We missed it."
Andrew hesitated. "Isn't there any chance we can still attend?"
"Not possible," Rubrical replied flatly. "And it's all your fault."
Andrew scratched the back of his head, forcing a smile. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you—my treat."
Rubrical smirked. "Now you're talking."
Together, they walked toward the counter, the tension between them easing—at least for the moment.
The final bell rang.
Students poured out of classrooms, laughter echoing through the halls as the school day came to an end. Andrew and Rubrical barely made it a few steps before a sharp voice stopped them cold.
"Andrew. Rubrical. My room. Now."
Their shoulders slumped.
Inside, the teacher's anger came down on them without mercy. Missed classes. Carelessness. Responsibility. By the time it was over, neither dared speak.
"As punishment," the teacher said, pointing toward the hallway, "you will clean your classroom. Now go."
They stepped outside in silence.
Rubrical was the first to break it. "This is all your fault! Why do I always end up in trouble because of you, man?"
Andrew looked down. "I'm sorry. I promise it won't happen again."
Rubrical stopped walking and stared at him. "That's the fifth time you've said that."Andrew and Rubrical cleaned the classroom in silence, the sound of sweeping echoing through the empty room. By the time they were done, the sky outside had already begun to darken.
As they stepped out of the school gates and started toward home, Andrew suddenly stopped.
"Wait. Wait. Wait." He turned sharply. "What's the date today?"
Rubrical frowned for a moment. "It's the twenty-third."
Andrew's eyes widened. "Oh shit. We were supposed to go for the Apple games today. Remember? That thing."
Rubrical froze—then cursed under his breath. "Oh yeah. We completely forgot." A grin slowly formed on his face. "Well… let's take it today. Let's execute our plan."
The store stood quietly at the corner of the street, its glass windows glowing faintly under flickering lights. A banner hung above the entrance—SALE—and beneath it, the name APPLE STORE.
As Andrew and Rubrical stepped inside, the door slid open automatically with a soft chime.
An old man behind the counter looked up and smiled. "Welcome, Andrew. Welcome, Rubrical. I was waiting for you."
Rubrical scratched his head. "Sorry we're late."
The old man chuckled, then glanced at Andrew. "Why so late today?"
Andrew sighed. "It's a long story." Then, lowering his voice, he asked, "Is it ready?"
The old man's expression darkened. "Yes. But I'll warn you again—this is dangerous."
Rubrical smirked. "Danger is kind of our thing. You know how much we love games."
The old man studied them for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Very well."
He disappeared behind the counter and returned holding a strange wire. It looked ordinary at first glance, but its structure was unnatural—twisted, uneven, almost alive.
He placed it in Andrew's hands.
"Thank you, Uncle," Andrew said.
"You're welcome," the old man replied. "But remember my warning." His voice softened. "And… all the best for your adventure."
They reached Andrew's house soon after.
Ding dong.
The door opened, and Andrew's mother smiled warmly. "Oh, you're finally home."
"Hi," both boys said together.
Rubrical bowed slightly. "Hello, Anna aunty. How are you?"
"I'm fine," she replied, then frowned. "But why are you both so late?"
"Sorry, Mom," Andrew said quickly. "The teacher made us clean the classroom."
Anna sighed. "Alright. But don't stay up too late."
Andrew hesitated. "Mom… we have something important to do. Please don't open my door until morning."
She raised an eyebrow. "And what exactly are you two planning?"
Rubrical laughed nervously. "Just playing our favorite game."
Anna smiled. "Alright then. Enjoy."
They rushed into Andrew's room and locked the door.
Rubrical inserted the DVD into the console. Andrew carefully connected the mysterious wire to the system. Both of them wore identical watches on their wrists—the timers blinking 00:00.
Andrew looked at Rubrical. "You ready?"
Rubrical grinned. "Always, bro. Best of luck. The adventure begins now."
Andrew pressed the timer.
A blinding white light exploded from the television, flooding the room. The light wrapped around them—
And in the next instant, they vanished.