A heavy silence settled in the hall where Luna and Fred stood, almost palpable in the air thick with confusion. The creature's words seemed to weigh on everyone present. Fred couldn't help but whisper his theories, as if trying to soothe his racing mind.
"Wait… is this some new technology?" he asked, hesitating.
Luna knit her brows and let out a soft sigh, her eyes fixed on the screen.
"If it were new technology… it would have been all over the news," she murmured, a slight tremor in her voice as she struggled to contain her rising anxiety. Fred looked down, embarrassed by the simplicity of his own remark.
The creature—motionless and elegant—spoke in a calm, almost poised voice that contrasted sharply with the surrounding turmoil:
"The game will begin in four hours… You will be teleported to another location. Prepare yourselves."
The screen vanished instantly, plunging billions into chaos and bewilderment. Television sets went black simultaneously, and the whispers escalated into an indistinct roar. In his room, Karl had seen the same thing as everyone else. He gripped his console, his eyes wide.
"Huh… a game?" he wondered aloud, his voice lost in the silence of his room.
An hour passed, and the unrest in the cities reached its peak. News reports looped endlessly, and every household seemed absorbed by this collective spectacle, unable to grasp what had just occurred. All of humanity seemed suspended by this mysterious announcement. Another hour slipped away while journalists fought to maintain their composure to inform the public.
One reporter, broadcasting live from the Imperial House, announced: "Today, we are reporting live from the Imperial House…"
The Emperor spoke shortly after, his measured voice echoing in every living room and street corner.
"My dear citizens, fear nothing. Our heroes truly did end the war. I suspect that what you witnessed two hours ago was nothing more than a hoax."
His words hung in the air for a moment, but the theories remained unconfirmed, leaving the crowd in a mix of doubt and fragile hope. As he continued his speech, a journalist dared to ask the question on everyone's lips:
"And if all of this were true… what should we do then?"
Murmurs rippled through the crowd; a collective shiver ran through the reporters and spectators alike.
"Yes, it's true… what do we do then?" some repeated, fear and curiosity mingling in every syllable.
The Emperor, perched high above and surrounded by his guards, scanned the crowd before answering in a firm yet nuanced voice:
"Then, we simply prepare."
A tense silence followed. The previous question still floated in the air, sharp and cold: "Are you saying we must prepare regardless, in case this scenario is real?"
Even the Emperor seemed haunted by doubt, his features strained by the effort to keep his authority intact. One of his advisors whispered in his ear; a moment later, he withdrew, leaving behind an assembly full of questions and a people caught between terror and perplexity.
As the Emperor headed toward his car, a single voice pierced the tumult: "So… this peace was nothing but a facade…"
It wasn't a question, but a realization—a thought spoken aloud. In the two hours remaining before the start of the game, everyone rushed into their preparations. Luna made frantic calls trying to reach her husband, while Fred did the same with less success. Karl, meanwhile, was packing a few things into a bag, readying himself for the unknown.
"If it's a game, I hope it's fun," he whispered, half-ironic, half-worried.
He grabbed his bag and headed to the hall. Fred, seeing Karl taking the matter seriously—he who was usually a carefree slacker—froze for a second.
"There's my moronic, useless little brother… You still think you're in one of your games?"
Karl looked at him for a moment, indifferent, and slowly approached.
"I feel like—"
He cut himself off as he saw Luna exiting her office. He settled onto the sofa, console in hand, eyes glued to the screen, while Luna watched him intently.
"Did I see that correctly?" she whispered, uncertain of what she was witnessing.
As some prepared actively and others continued to doubt, the countdown on the massive blue panel in the sky appeared: only two minutes remained. Even the skeptics began to waver. At the Wenger estate, Marcus had already arrived. Reyna, Karl's younger sister, along with Fred and Charlotte, his older siblings, had all returned at Marcus's command. The only one missing, as usual, was Agron, who was likely abroad.
Karl, headphones in, was playing on his phone—a sight that irritated several family members. As they spoke amongst themselves, the countdown reached the final ten seconds. On television, a journalist was still trying to convince the public it was a prank, but the seconds ticked away:
5… 4… 3… 2… 1…
An oppressive silence fell. The journalist, attempting to finish his sentence, vanished before he could complete his statement. The Wengers stood frozen; only Luna, Marcus, and Karl were taking the situation seriously.
Luna, sensing the urgency, lunged toward the sofa and grabbed Karl by the arm. At that exact moment, they vanished. The other family members, shocked, met the same fate.
They found themselves in an isolated location, resembling a dense scrubland. A vast forest stretched as far as the eye could see, while the ground, covered in thin grass, offered a neutral terrain. Karl looked around: none of his family members were present. Instead, there were many strangers, though they seemed to recognize him.
"That's Karl Wenger."
"You mean that good-for-nothing?"
As the murmurs continued, a silhouette appeared in the sky. It possessed wings and looked like an angel from a movie or TV show. Its face remained hidden, but its presence commanded immediate silence. Mouths hung open in disbelief.
"It's really an angel."
"Of course not, idiot… they're just playing tricks on us, right?" a man said, peering around.
A strange calm settled as everyone stared at the man. He turned slowly, and in that moment, he heard:
"I hate noisy insects."
With those words, he exploded, leaving behind only fragments of flesh and blood rolling on the ground.
"Let this serve as an example."
There were at least a thousand people, yet the silence that followed was staggering. Some covered their mouths, others held their breath, paralyzed by fear. Then, a calm voice rose amidst the tension:
"So… what exactly is this 'game' anyway?"
The speaker's face remained impassive, observing the scene with unnerving composure. All eyes turned toward him, and what they saw left them stunned:
It was Karl Wenger.