root-book

In the dimly lit room, the sound of a pen scratching across paper fills the air. A faint sigh echoes as the writer furiously types. “...and that’s the intro. Perfect. At least I hope it doesn’t sound too cheesy…” Click... click... click... “You know, I still can’t believe you’re wasting time writing. How long are you going to keep doing this?” The second voice comes from across the room, its owner clearly absorbed in a video game, mashing buttons in frustration. “I’m not wasting time! I’m... well, I’m... ” The writer pauses, glancing at the screen. “I need to finish this first.” A heavy sigh follows, and a chair scrapes against the floor as the gamer stands up and walks toward the writer. “You’ve been saying that for hours.” the gamer teases, clearly amused. “Don’t you think everything is a little peaceful now?” The sound of frantic footsteps as the third person enters, voice sharp with authority. “Move. NOW.” The door slams open. The gamer flinches at the noise. “Do you mind? I was on a winning streak!” “No time for your streak. The portal’s unstable and will close soon. We need to get moving. Don’t make me drag you.” “Right. Fine, I’m coming,” the gamer grumbles, but with a smile. “You’re just jealous because I was winning.” The writer sighs and puts the pen down, turning to the screen. “Last time I checked, you still haven’t figured out how to finish the game without a cheat code…” “Cheat codes are for losers,” the gamer retorts with mock indignation. “Just move,” the third person demands, voice less patient this time. “The clock’s ticking.” With a final, exaggerated grunt, the gamer reluctantly gets up, and the trio hurries toward the door. The sound of hurried footsteps echoes, mingling with the distant hum of something far greater than their trivial squabbles.