One soundless night, in a quiet corner of the city, a room stayed shrouded in silence. It was nearing winter and the wind had already started to become chilly. Flowing in a steady breeze, it was strong enough to cause anyone still out to feel a shiver creep up their spine, and yet stayed just shy of causing the whistling noise that gave away what had caused the goosebumps to appear.
The wind seemed to slither into the room through the open window, moving the curtains in a slow, haunting, flap. As though a living thing, it inhaled the ever so slowly festering smell in the room, and then, as if content, left the room, letting yet another hungry breeze come in. Like a nest of snakes, the wind kept visiting the room, carrying the stench away repeatedly, not letting the scent linger, as though it was adamantly trying to stop anyone else from finding out about what had happened inside.
The world was a place filled with competition. Artificial Super-Intelligence. The double-edged sword, the Pandora 's Box, the final human creation. It was at the cusp of being born. Humans are praised by humans to be the most adaptable species. And yet, the laws and regulations, the financial and political institutions, the backbone of society itself, had failed to adapt fast enough to the rapid changes. Mass job losses had caused most to become desperate, without any other options, those who still had ability, had to take on multiple jobs to be able to feed themselves.
One such man, a nameless one of the masses, had overworked himself to his end, becoming just another figure in a sum total of casualties. Now it seemed, that in this cold, dark night, the wind did not want him to gain even the recognition of becoming a statistic, hiding the stench of rot in its veil, and letting him slip away into the night, silently.
He woke up with a jolt. His thoughts completely disarrayed, he tried to get his bearing. He felt warm, comfortable, and yet he could not open his eyes. It was as though they were… too weak. A thought appeared in his head, a feeling of intense dread creeping up on him. Maybe he was paralyzed. With all his might he tried to move his limbs, and to his great joy, he felt his feet kick something soft. He wasn't paralyzed.
And yet, as he tried to move more, to his horror, he couldn't move his arms or legs far apart. He was trapped. Just this small amount of movement and emotional distraught had caused him to already start feeling intensely exhausted.
With one final thought, he could no longer fight his fatigue anymore, and succumbed to unconsciousness.
'I must break free.'