> "We interrupt this program for a special announcement…"
The voice of a news anchor droned through the silence of the apartment.
Calm, monotone, almost resigned. A voice that no longer announced anything surprising.
> "... Japanese security authorities once again urge the population to remain indoors. The global phenomenon known as the 'Era of Chaos' continues to spread…"
A finger pressed the remote control.
CLICK.
Silence.
Haruto sighed. His face, still young, already looked tired of this era.
> "The 'Era of Chaos' this, the 'Era of Chaos' that... How about telling me when we enter the 'Era of Retirement', huh?"
He placed the remote on the coffee table, stood up, grabbed his bag. It was nearly 9:30 p.m., and like every night, he was the last to leave the office.
Another day spent sorting papers for a consulting firm that still believed "digital innovation" was the answer to a world falling apart.
•••
The office was empty.
The fluorescent lights flickered, and Haruto's desk was the only one still lit.
Stacks of documents, lukewarm coffee cups, sticky notes on the screen: "DON'T FORGET TO BREATHE."
He filed his papers methodically. Like a machine. He no longer gave it a thought.
> "I'm the most normal man in Japan," he thought. "If I were any more normal, I'd probably be a piece of furniture."
Another sigh, jacket on his shoulders, and he flipped the main switch. The office went dark.
The city was waiting.
•••
Tokyo at night.
But it wasn't really Tokyo anymore.
Outside, the air felt… different. Thick, almost viscous.
The newly-installed security loudspeakers echoed automatically.
> "Please remain indoors. This is a safety reminder. The Agency thanks you for your cooperation…"
The streets were empty. Not abandoned — empty.
No sign of life, as if the entire world had hit "pause."
Black rain was falling. Not gray. Not dirty. Black.
No smell, no sound. Like a filter over reality.
> "Maybe I'm still asleep. Just forgot how to dream normally, that's all."
•••
Haruto went down into the subway. The corridors were deserted. The lights flickered.
A rat looked at him as if he owed it money.
> "Well. As long as the trains still run, things can't be that bad, right?"
The train car was empty, of course. He sat by the window, put in his earbuds — even though the music hadn't worked in months.
A habit more than a need. An illusion of normalcy.
Eventually, a robotic voice announced:
> "The next station is… Shibuya."
Haruto lifted his head slightly. He'd lived there all his life.
It was strange, but that voice always made him feel just a bit more real.
•••
Shibuya.
The subway exit was silent.
The world-famous crossing was empty.
His footsteps echoed on the asphalt, alone.
No tourists. No schoolkids in uniform. No cars.
> "It's not a ghost town. It's worse. It's a forgotten city."
His stomach growled.
Thankfully, the old sushi bar on the corner was still there.
A warm yellow light spilled from behind the half-drawn curtain.
He pushed the door open. A wooden chime rang.
> "Haruto-kun. Still alive?"
The old man behind the counter smiled — tired, but sincere.
> "So it seems. Got any tuna?"
> "Always. As long as I'm here."
•••
Haruto ate slowly. It was good.
Not amazing. Not bad. Just… normal. And that, these days, was precious.
> "Oh, forgot my drink."
He stood up, stepped outside to buy a can from the vending machine nearby.
> clink — pshhht
He popped the can open, took a few sips. Returned to his seat.
But something was off.
The bar was closed.
The curtain was drawn.
The light was gone.
And around him… the world had changed.
The colors looked duller.
The sky had turned steel gray, like a memory.
The wind no longer blew.
Haruto froze.
> "Did I… skip a scene?"
He looked left. No one.
Right… nothing.
He looked left again. Still nothing.
But when he turned his head to the right one last time, he felt it before he saw it:
A presence.
Massive. Striking. Silent.
Someone — or something — was there.
In the shadows.
A blurry silhouette, almost unreal.
Its gaze — though invisible — felt heavy.
As if this "someone" was more real than the world itself.
Haruto stayed frozen. His heart raced.
He didn't understand. He didn't move. He no longer breathed.
The silhouette tilted its head slightly, slowly. Like a curious predator.
And just as the silence seemed ready to shatter...
•••
> "Nakamura Haruto."
The voice was rough, deep, distorted. Like a snapped cello string.
> "You're not supposed to be here."
Haruto took a step back. Trembled.
> "Is this… some prank show? A dream? Some hallucination?"
But deep down, he knew. He felt it.
This wasn't an illusion.
It wasn't a mistake.
It was… the beginning.
•••
[End of Chapter 1]
> The Era of Chaos has begun.
And Haruto… is no longer just normal.