On the outskirts of a quiet urban sprawl, a gentle wind rattled through the dry leaves of an old, twisted oak. A handsomely dressed young man sat crumpled below the tree crying ugly tears, his head hung low, the soft light of flames dancing across his shaking form. The collapsing roof of a burning adjacent building sent embers and smoke soaring into the night sky. The youth’s pitiful whimpering strangled itself, throttled into silence before returning in a mournful wail that stretched and faded into the roaring of the flames. An unknown amount of time passed as the tears dried from the heat and the boy simply sat in silence, helplessly watching smoke drift into the night sky as his world burned.
Hazy starlight illuminated a pale face blackened by soot as it stared dully at the burning husk of a familiar shop, ashen tears falling free to patter on the simmering earth while the young man subconsciously reached to loosen the silk tie around his neck as the heat got to him. Quietly, he stood up and began to disrobe, tossing his wet jacket, vest, tie, socks, and shoes into the waning fire. Having rid himself of the oppressive clothing, the young man rolled up the unbuttoned sleeves of his grey dress shirt before crumpling back down to the ground and returning to gaze blankly into the burning ruins. A cell phone buzzed incessantly on the pavement nearby, completely ignored.
“You were right, Mr. Bloom,” he managed to whisper hoarsely. “I should’ve listened.” The boy's voice broke as tears surged once again.
The stars overhead rapidly winked out of existence, leaving only the smoky light of the fire as the rest of the world plunged into absolute darkness. Lost as they were in his grief, the young men noticed nothing beyond the immense tragedy represented by the fire — not even the cold feeling of the golden locket that seemed to have manifested itself from nowhere, reflecting the flickering flames as it swayed slowly from the boy’s loose fist with a faint glimmer of its own. In a blink, the world itself was no more. There was no rumble, no fanfare — only swirling light in a myriad of colors that swam within the emptiness that used to hold the Earth. The only evidence left that the universe had ever existed, the tendrils of kaleidoscopic light swirled beautifully for a few moments more before vanishing forever into the void.
* * * *
In a far-off place, the sky burns in shades of orange as the sun sets beyond the brick buildings of a small-town square. From the balcony seating of a restaurant overlooking the busy evening crowd, a young man stares down at the passing cars as they glide through the intersection below. Taking a sip of his drink, he shifts his eyes back to the half-eaten basket of fish and chips on the table before reaching for a fry. Dunking it in sauce and tossing it into his mouth with quiet satisfaction, the young man sighs. He’d been craving fish and chips for over a week, and nothing felt better than having his soul finally soothed. Basking in contentment, he leans back and picks up another fry.
“—sir. Are you okay? SIR!”
Suddenly, something presses down on the young man’s outstretched arm and shakes it firmly, jolting him back to himself with a start. As if his body had been suffocating, the youth begins to draw in gasping breaths of air to calm his screaming lungs. Something cold traces its way down his face. Reaching a shaky hand up to brush away the sensation, he’s disturbed to find that his face is caked with lines of salty tears. Since when had he been crying?
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The pressure on his other arm becomes less firm but remains in place, as if to provide some form of support. Finally looking up from his tear-soaked fingers, the young man realizes that the other customers on the balcony have all stopped and turned toward his table. Murmurs and whispers fill the air. The owner of the hand on his arm releases her grip and stares down at him, green eyes wide with concern.
“Sir,” the restaurant manager repeats uncertainly, “are you okay?”
The young man opens his mouth to respond but shuts it again. Dropping the fry still held in his hand, he places both palms on the table before looking at the woman standing beside him and then around at all of the people still staring at them. Sweat begins to form on his face. A blackout?!
Misunderstanding the man’s frantic look as embarrassment, the manager lowers herself to his level before speaking more softly. “Your server alerted us after they noticed you’d been sitting here crying with your arm locked like that for several minutes. You were scaring the other customers. Is there someone we need to call for you?”
Still unsure of what to say or do, the man reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out his wallet. Placing a black card on the table in front of him, he motions for the manager to take it. Though her face remains heavy with concern, she picks up the card nonetheless and gives him an understanding nod before walking away to get his check. The customers all return to their meals, though a few continue stealing glances his way.
Picking up his phone from the table, the young man taps the screen a few times before putting it to his ear. After a few rings, the call connects, and he begins talking before the person on the other end has the chance to say a word.
“Mom, it happened again…”
A short pause as he listens.
“No, I don’t know. I—Mom! I have no idea what he'd say. I haven't even spoken with Mr. Bloom today. I was jus—What? The stars?” Frustrated by his mother’s interruptions and still reeling in confusion from his blackout, his tone becomes exasperated. “Mom! Can you just lis—”
There is no flash, no fanfare, no actionable warning at all. In an instant, only swirling light in a myriad of colors swims within the void that used to hold the Earth — the only evidence left that the universe had ever existed. Then, in a blink, it vanishes too.
* * * *
Location: W 12 / Subject of Interaction: LW 21.2012
“How many is it now?”
“Totals are still being tallied, but the last count was north of a million and climbing, ma’am.”
“Damn it…and we’re sure that he was the cause?”
“Yes, ma’am. Everything points to the source of the collapse being the device and that it was triggered elsewhere.”
“Even though we stopped him from activating it here?”
“Yes, ma’am. We aren’t sure exactly how he did it, but the current disaster matches what we mapped to be the result of its ignition. Though the magnitude of the fallout is multiple times greater than even we predicted.”
“Incompetence. This tragedy once again proves why you can’t count on a Lower World to handle anything. Keep me updated as news trickles in. And, Ben?”
“Yes, ma’am?”
“Stop calling me ‘ma’am’. You’re the same rank as me now idiot.”
“Of course, ma’am.”
"Ugh. I'm going out for coffee. If you need me, I'll be at Bloom's."
"Ooh, get me one of those pastries I like. The ones with the filling and the little berries on top."
"I'll think about it since you didn't call me 'ma'am'."
"All according to keikaku."
