Moebius looks back at the driver and gives him a nod, which conveys his thoughts perfectly.
He then walks back to the unconscious salary man, almost forgotten after the recent altercation and helps him up. He positions the man to be in a seated position and then picks up his things. He picks up the bag and gathers the scattered documents, piling them inside the bag. He lastly puts the envelope in the man's shirt pocket and then slowly puts the man's head down on the other seat, putting the man in a sleeping position, using the two seats.
He checks the man's pulse and determines that he will be fine as long as he gets medical attention. He puts the man's bag under his head and
Moebius finally slumps back down on his seat and tries to relax his mind, but the memory of him whooping the kid, followed by the yelling, cringes him back to consciousness He then wonders, if the salary man would want to press charges against the kids when he wakes up. In normal circumstances it wouldn't be an issue, but Moebius isn't particularly thrilled about the police viewing the footage of him elbowing a kid.
Just as Moebius gets lost in his thoughts, the bus comes to a halting stop. He slightly leans forward due to the inertia of the bus and snaps out of sea of thoughts. Looking outside of the window, he recognizes the familiar bus stop and realizes his destination has arrived. He slowly stands up and walks up tp the front, glancing at the salary man who is still out cold. Moebius reaches the exit as it is being slowly opened. The driver looks up to Moebius and they make eye contact. There is an awkward pause and now Moebius feels obligated to say something. He ruffles his white-blond hair as he starts speaking in his gruff tone after clearing his throat.
"Umm....Sir, could you make sure the man gets to a hospital?"
"Yes. I will make sure he is treated."
"Thank you."
The exchange is short and simple, as the door exit door opens behind Moebius. He nods and just as he is climbing down the bus stairs, he gets an idea and calls out to the driver again. He then says in an unsure tone:
"Would you mind not telling him about the...altercation? If possible could you just say that the kids got scared and apologized, before leaving him his envelope?"
The driver seems momentarily confused by the sudden request, but then he notices the red blinking light of the bus dashcam and understands the reasoning behind Moebius's odd request. The bus driver nods and reassures Moebius with determined look.
"Okay. I will make sure to leave you out of the events, unless he decides to get the police involved."
Moebius nods at the bus driver and gets off the bus, just as the door closes with a few beeps. He stretches at the lonely bus station, as the bus pulls off and drives off into the dark night. After a few shoulder rolls and slight hip rotations followed by some strained groans, Moebius pulls out his phone in order to check the time. The time is 00:21 which adds to his stress, as he calculates the minimum amount of sleep he can muster, by the time he makes it his apartment.
As he walks down the street, somethings feels...amiss. It's like he's forgetting or over looking something important. Before he can ponder any further, the long forgotten timer on his peripheral vision changes color and his attention snaps back to it. Through out the course of the day, the timer had blended alongside Moebius's vision of the surrounding and he had almost managed to ignore the ominous counting....until now. The anxiousness has started to build up again.
The timer now glows dark orange, a slight deviation from its previously dark red hue. Moebius realizes that it only has around four hours left on the clock and contemplates whether he can even sleep, knowing that a mysterious timer is marching forward to something he doesn't even know.
Finally, he makes it back to his shabby apartment building. Moebius trudges up the stairs to the fifth floor and walks to his apartment door. The apartment doors are all similar...except for his, which is located all the way at the end. There is an overflowing stack of mail, protruding from his mail box, stuck to the apartment door and there is grime staining the edges of the door frame. His apartment has always been like this, but for some reason, Moebius is studying these details as if he saw them for the first time.
It was a weird moment of clarity for him.
Maybe its the fact that the dirty entrance is the only thing which has stayed normal in his wild day. Its the only thing which hasn't changed...but is that a good thing? Who knows....who cares...Moebius sure doesn't, as his sudden interest in the small details vanish and he opens his apartment door using his old-rusty keys. The familiar scent of burnt out cigarettes and empty beer cans greet him, welcoming him back to his humble abode-Its almost like they pull him towards the dark pit of self loathing he has built.
He sets down his wallet and keys on the counter before walking to the fridge, which is humming its electric static tune. He opened the fridge which was bare empty except for a few cans of beer, three slices of bread, a ripped pack of salami and lastly an odd jar of mayonnaise, he doesn't remember buying but still keeps around. A crate of seven cans are pulled out of the fridge, alongside the bread and some chunks of salami, before Moebius shuts it close.
Moebius trudges across the sea of cans, spread across the carpet. Between his steps, he starts to set the pieces of salami between the bread, making a rough sandwich by the time he is in front of the worn out couch. He crashes back on the couch which squeaks in protest, as he takes a huge bite of his sandwich and pops the first beer, whilst turning on his old TV, which is just a few years away from being considered an antic.
One pop turns to Two. The Two turns to Three. Three turns to Four. Each can opening is an attempt to drown out the stress of the day and the tension of the ominous count down. The sound of cans opening continue with a few minutes in between, until he reaches down to claim another one but finds nothing. As he looks back to the seven discarded cans, Moebius groans in frustration; He wanted to get black out drunk, but all he managed was to get was mildly tipsy.
He devours the sandwich and looks on at the TV, which is broadcasting a generic trash reality show. He leans into the couch, his focus on the obnoxious voice of the host and minutes pass, as his eyelids start to get slightly heavy. Before long, his vision starts to get blurry and he succumbs to the darkness of slumber-It seems that the combination of cold beers in addition to reality TV, makes for a killer sleeping remedy, one which Moebius has abused countless times before.
Well, now starts the torture which plagues him every night.
The same nightmare. The same voice. The cruel reflection of his actions played inn the confined space of his subconscious....but this time, the nightmare cuts off abruptly at a random part and he is jolted awake by a loud ringing noise. He falls to the floor and instinctively takes cover by the couch, as he grasps the remote as a makeshift weapon. He is disoriented as the noise keeps ringing in his ears, in a few seconds he understands this is reality and not a part of his fucked up dreams.
He gets a semblance of control as he tries to locate where the noise is coming from. He doesn't have a calling bell and his alarm clock only lets out beeps, not the piercing ringing noise which has flooded his hearing. He moves around the space to get closer to the sound but everywhere he goes, the noise is constant in amplitude almost like he was wearing invisible earphones.....and that was when the day's memories flooded his mind and he connected the dots.
"...fuck it..."
He whispers, as he finally gives in and decides to confront the 'voices in his head'. He clenches his fists and lets out a shout, calling for the system.
"HEY WORLD TAG DICKHEAD! GET OVER HERE!"
There is a brief pause, which almost would've been a moment of hope for Moebius, if not for the constant ringing sound. Then all of a sudden, Moebius is greeted by his trusty system,
*WHAT CAN I HELP YOU WITH?*
"What's with this ringing shit?"
Moebius mutters as he fiddles with his ears. The system pauses for a bit, before the timer icon gets bigger and Moebius can now see it flashing a green light as it shows 00:00:01:22. Before Moebius can even ask what the timer is for, the system voice rings out again saying.
*THE RING IS USED TO SIGNIFY THE LAST 5 MINUTES BEFORE INITIATION*
"...what?"
*THE RINGING SHALL STOP ONCE THE COUNT REACHES THE LAST MINUTE AND ALL SYSTEM INTEVENTION WILL BE HALTED TILL THE END OF INITIATION*
Moebius is left confused, as he is finally told the purpose of the timer, but it only fills him with more questions, the greatest one being-WHAT THE FUCK IS 'INITIATION'? He eyes the timer which is exactly at 00:00:01:02 and sure enough , the ringing stops at the 1 minute mark.
Now, the real panic starts.
Moebius stands frozen for a few seconds, before he starts calling for the system but all his shouts are met with pin drop silence. In any other time, this would've delighted Moebius but now it feels like he is a rat stuck in a glue trap. Its like someone came in his house, handed him a live grenade and left. Just as the count reaches the last ten seconds, Moebius puts his back to the wall and puts his hands up, almost like he can counter the march of time with 1-2 combo.
Each count is accompanied the flashing counter which is now changing between red, orange and green with every three counts. Just as the count reaches 2 and the color switches to orange, Moebius clenches his fists and grinds his teeth in anticipation. Then the green hue, fills the timer which showcases the number 2 and Moebius gets ready to face whatever is to come...but nothing does.
Moebius stands there, his eyes focused ahead and stance unwavering. After 2 seconds, he thinks maybe it was indeed all just inside his head and allows himself to break eye contact with the hovering virtual timer. He is slightly calm enough to blink...but that's where it all went haywire.
When he closed his eyes, he was standing in his apartment. When he opens his eyes, he was in fact, not standing in his familiar apartment. His eyelids part to allow a very bright white light to invade his retina, causing him to be momentarily blinded. Before he can even open his eyes, a voice speaks in a very joyous and noble tone:
"WELCOME PLAYERS! WELCOME TO WORLD TAG!"