The alarm buzzed sharply, a shrill sound that filled the tiny apartment. Erwin Grey groaned and rolled over, yanking the thin blanket over his head. The cold air seeped through the drafty walls, biting at his exposed skin. He had given up on the heater months ago—it cost too much, and even when it worked, it barely made a difference.
His hand emerged from under the blanket, fumbling for the alarm. With a loud slap, he silenced it. The mattress creaked as he sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Around him, the room was as bleak as his life. Peeling wallpaper hung in long strips, the single lightbulb above flickered inconsistently, and the pile of dishes in the corner seemed to grow daily.
The place was barely big enough to move in, let alone thrive. His entire existence seemed confined within these four grimy walls.
His stomach growled loudly, a sharp reminder of his neglected dinner the night before. Erwin sighed and shuffled to the fridge, opening it to reveal a sad inventory: a half-eaten loaf of bread, a stick of butter, and a carton of milk past its expiration date. He grabbed a slice of bread, biting into it dry as he wandered to the window.
From his fifth-floor view, the city of Orval sprawled before him in all its dilapidated glory. Once a thriving industrial hub, it was now a ghost of its former self. The factories that had fueled its rise were long gone, replaced by gutted buildings and desolate streets. Warehouses became shelters for squatters, and the few businesses that remained barely scraped by.
Erwin didn't hate Orval—he hated that he belonged here.
At twenty-six, he had nothing to his name. No real job, no meaningful relationships, and no future in sight. He worked at a run-down electronics store, pushing outdated gadgets to people who couldn't afford anything better. His coworkers barely noticed him, and his boss only acknowledged his presence when something went wrong.
He finished the slice of bread, grabbed his coat, and headed out. The stairwell reeked of mildew, and the elevator, permanently out of service, stood as a monument to neglect. The streets below weren't any better.
The air was heavy with dampness, a precursor to rain. Broken roads and shattered sidewalks forced him to watch his step as he navigated the uneven terrain. Buildings leaned precariously, their exteriors marred by graffiti and decay. Trash piled up in corners, untouched for weeks.
Erwin walked briskly, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his frayed coat. He passed a group of people huddled in an alleyway, their voices hushed as they exchanged something under the table. He didn't care enough to investigate.
As he approached the pedestrian bridge, he heard a voice call out.
"Help! Someone, please help me!"
He turned his head to see a woman surrounded by two men. One of them grabbed her arm while the other rifled through her bag. The woman struggled, tears streaming down her face as she screamed for assistance.
Erwin stopped, watching the scene unfold. The larger man slapped her hard, silencing her cries.
"You've got a problem with what's going on here?" the smaller man barked at Erwin, who had paused too long.
"No," Erwin replied flatly. His expression was unreadable, his tone cold.
He walked away without another word, ignoring the muffled cries behind him.
As he moved on, his thoughts churned. This wasn't the first time he'd seen something like this. Orval was full of scams and traps. For all he knew, the woman wasn't a victim but a participant. He had seen it happen before—people luring good Samaritans into their schemes.
He clenched his jaw as bitterness filled him. This city was a cesspool of deceit and selfishness, and every day it dragged him deeper into its filth.
The streets were eerily quiet today, almost unnaturally so. Erwin liked it that way. He wasn't one for crowds or conversations. His father used to tell him he needed to be more outgoing, but those words fell flat now. His father was gone, and his mother had distanced herself long before that.
The rain started to fall as he arrived at the store. The neon sign above the door flickered weakly, its buzzing almost drowned out by the patter of raindrops. Inside, the air was stale, the shelves cluttered with gadgets that looked like relics from another era.
Erwin slumped onto his stool behind the counter, staring blankly at the security monitor. His reflection stared back—pale, unshaven, with dark circles under his eyes.
The hours dragged by. A handful of customers came and went, none of them memorable. One man argued about a discount for a broken radio, and Erwin gave in just to end the conversation.
He spent most of the day scrolling on his phone, watching videos of people with better lives. Influencers showing off lavish vacations, tech billionaires discussing their grand ideas, and politicians spewing empty promises.
Erwin hated them all, but more than that, he hated himself. He'd had chances, hadn't he? Opportunities to do something with his life? Yet here he was, stuck in this decaying city with nothing to show for his existence.
As evening approached, the store grew quiet again. Erwin leaned back in his stool, staring at the ceiling as the fluorescent lights buzzed faintly above. Was this it? Was this all life had to offer?
The thought didn't scare him anymore. It was just another truth, like the rain falling outside.
And then, something changed.
The lights flickered once, then twice, before going out completely. Erwin grabbed the flashlight from under the counter, clicking it on as he made his way toward the breaker box. But before he reached it, a low hum vibrated through the air.
He froze. The hum wasn't coming from inside the store. It was everywhere—resonating in the walls, the floor, even his chest.
A blinding light erupted outside, pouring through the windows. Erwin shielded his eyes, dropping the flashlight as the intensity grew. It wasn't warm or cold but something in between, filling every corner of the room with its strange brilliance.
And then it vanished.
The store plunged into darkness, but the air was thick with something… different. A palpable energy hung in the atmosphere, making the hairs on Erwin's neck stand on end.
He stepped outside, his boots splashing in puddles as he gazed at the sky. Above, shifting colors danced in patterns that defied logic, swirling and twisting like a living thing.
A voice boomed, calm yet commanding:
"Welcome, inhabitants of this primitive planet."
Erwin's heart raced as he turned, searching for the source.
"You have been chosen to participate in the grand evolution of humanity. Through this system, you shall grow stronger, overcome challenges, and ascend to new heights. Many of you will be given the Paradox World System."
A glowing screen appeared in front of him, its sharp letters glaring:
SYSTEM INITIALIZATION FAILED.
USER STATUS: SYSTEMLESS.
The words hit like a punch to the gut. Before Erwin could process them, the screen flickered and vanished.
"You are an anomaly," the voice whispered, quieter now but still haunting.
Erwin stood motionless in the rain, staring at the space where the screen had been. Around him, the city changed, but all he felt was the crushing weight of insignificance.
An anomaly. Even in a new world, he didn't belong.