The Witness Of The Cosmic Pawn
741 Views · Ongoing · Julie Moses
"Draft notice, Player 7,445,212. Your urban entropy has been requisitioned. Debt: One Existential Constant. Interest accrues immediately.”
For twelve years, Leo has walked into forgotten places—abandoned churches, dead malls, sealed subway stations—looking for any sign of his father, a transit worker who vanished without a trace. All he found was a single work boot on the tracks of Grand Street Station.
Then a text message appears on his phone. A message he didn't send.
Come to the railyard. I need someone to see this.
His friend Jin shows it to him. Her face is pale. "You really didn't send this?"
"I really didn't."
"Then who did?"
Leo doesn't have an answer. But that night, he dreams again.
This time, it speaks.
You've been looking for me your whole life.
Leo wakes up gasping, the taste of burned paper on his tongue.
He goes back to the railyard.
The ground opens beneath him.
Bones at the bottom. His father's jacket among them. A pale hand reaching up from the pile.
And a voice inside his head.
Welcome, Player 7,445,212.
Leo falls into the dark. Hands grab at his clothes. His hair. His face. Something tears at his chest.
When he opens his eyes, he is not in the railyard anymore.
He is in a mall that should not exist.
Mannequins turn their heads to face him.
Behind the canned music, the dead air hums.
And a number hovers in his vision.
Sanity: 98%
The Game has begun.
He did not choose to play.
But the Interlocutor does not care what he wants.
For twelve years, Leo has walked into forgotten places—abandoned churches, dead malls, sealed subway stations—looking for any sign of his father, a transit worker who vanished without a trace. All he found was a single work boot on the tracks of Grand Street Station.
Then a text message appears on his phone. A message he didn't send.
Come to the railyard. I need someone to see this.
His friend Jin shows it to him. Her face is pale. "You really didn't send this?"
"I really didn't."
"Then who did?"
Leo doesn't have an answer. But that night, he dreams again.
This time, it speaks.
You've been looking for me your whole life.
Leo wakes up gasping, the taste of burned paper on his tongue.
He goes back to the railyard.
The ground opens beneath him.
Bones at the bottom. His father's jacket among them. A pale hand reaching up from the pile.
And a voice inside his head.
Welcome, Player 7,445,212.
Leo falls into the dark. Hands grab at his clothes. His hair. His face. Something tears at his chest.
When he opens his eyes, he is not in the railyard anymore.
He is in a mall that should not exist.
Mannequins turn their heads to face him.
Behind the canned music, the dead air hums.
And a number hovers in his vision.
Sanity: 98%
The Game has begun.
He did not choose to play.
But the Interlocutor does not care what he wants.
