Part II — The First Packages
Monday Morning, 9:59 A.M.
The world held its breath.
For seven days, the glowing numbers had hung in the sky — steady, untouchable, unchanging. Scientists argued, believers prayed, and armies waited.
Now, the great countdown blinked its final seconds away.
00:00:03… 00:00:02… 00:00:01… 00:00:00
The light vanished.
For a heartbeat, there was nothing but silence.
Then the world exhaled—and reality shifted.
---
🇹🇿 The Malangalila Family — Tanzania
Aaron was in class when it happened, arguing a case study before his professor. The fluorescent lights above him dimmed; every screen in the room flashed white. When the brightness faded, two small orbs hovered over each desk—glowing faintly gold, humming with low vibration.
Each was the size of a clenched fist, smooth and opaque. Above them floated new digits:
> Package One: 01:00:00
Package Two: 02:00:00
Students panicked. Some ran. Some reached out, but their hands passed through empty air—except Aaron's.
When he touched the first orb, it pulsed warm under his palm, recognizing him. A line of light crawled up his wrist like living fire before fading away.
Across town, Lorenzo and Marcus saw the same orbs appear in their workshop, and Felicia saw hers materialize over her kitchen table, trembling above the family Bible.
None of them could have known the packages were connected — to them, and to each other.
---
🇩🇪 Victor Grant — Munich
Victor was asleep when the sky went dark.
He woke to his room glowing—two floating spheres above his desk, perfectly symmetrical, humming like tuning forks. His digital clock flickered between time and static.
He reached for his phone, but the screen only showed one message:
> "Recipient Verified: Victor Grant. Await Activation."
He approached slowly, the floor vibrating under his feet.
The first sphere began a visible countdown: 00:59:59
The second stayed still, its timer unblinking.
Something deep in his chest ached—as if a string had been plucked inside his bones.
---
🇯🇵 Hana Watanabe — Kyoto
In the still of dawn, the temple bell rang on its own.
Hana's eyes snapped open. Two luminous shapes floated above her futon—like liquid glass. She felt drawn to them, though her body trembled.
She extended a hand. The first sphere flickered, and the symbols she'd once seen in the temple bell flashed across its surface.
> 01:00:00
02:00:00
Hana whispered, "Why me?"
The air answered in vibration, like the bell's echo returning from the void.
---
🇧🇷 Rafa Moreira — Rio
Rafa was jogging when the world glitched.
He froze mid-step as everything around him—cars, waves, birds—paused, hanging in the air for one impossible second. Then the motion resumed, and two spheres hovered before him on the beachfront, reflecting the sunrise.
Kids screamed, thinking it was magic. Rafa, chest heaving, stepped closer. The smaller orb's countdown ticked down from an hour; the larger remained still.
"Alright," he muttered. "Guess I'm in this too."
He reached out. The moment his fingers brushed it, every nearby light flared—then burst.
---
🇮🇳 Anaya Rao — Varanasi
On the riverbank, people knelt in awe. Dozens of orbs floated over the water, one for each soul present. They glowed like stars reflected on the Ganges.
Anaya's daughter clutched her hand.
"Mama… it's calling you."
The philosopher felt her heartbeat sync with the orb's hum. She didn't move. She only whispered a prayer that didn't belong to any religion.
The first countdown ticked down to fifty-nine minutes.
---
🇷🇺 Alexei Voronov — Siberia
Snowfall halted midair.
Alexei stood on the drilling platform, staring at two spheres hanging in front of him, their warmth cutting through the frozen wind. The sensors on the rig went haywire, screaming impossible readings—pressure dropping, temperature rising.
He tried to touch one. The metal of his glove melted clean away where it brushed the light.
He ripped the glove off and backed away, breathing hard.
> "What in God's name are you?" he whispered.
The sphere answered by spinning faster.
---
🇨🇦 Clara Hughes — Vancouver
Clara's camera caught everything. She had been filming a morning news segment when the sky itself seemed to pixelate—light bending into a grid pattern before reforming.
When the broadcast cut out, the crew gasped: two glowing orbs hovered between them, each labeled Package One and Package Two.
Clara kept filming. Through her lens, she saw something no one else could — faint shapes inside the light, shifting like silhouettes of people.
---
🕶️ The Smiling Figure — Unknown
The world trembled, and they smiled.
> "Two packages per soul," they murmured. "Choice and consequence. Let's see who learns fastest."
Their laughter echoed across frequencies, slipping through airwaves and dreams alike.
---
Monday Morning, 10:00 A.M.
Across the planet, billions of new countdowns ticked in unison.
One hour.
Two hours.
No one knew what would happen when either reached zero.
But every instinct, every heartbeat, every whisper of the Infinite Current said the same thing: