"Hey Zhao, did you see the news? Today's weather is strange, right?"
"That's true, first time seeing snow in April."
"Hmm, wait—what's with that red fog?" someone shouted.
Zhao was surprised and looked at the sky. The whole area was covered by a thick red fog, rolling in like a living thing, its edges curling and twisting unnaturally. The air grew heavy, carrying a faint, metallic scent that stung his nostrils. The snow beneath his feet, already out of place in April, began to melt where the fog touched it, leaving behind patches of blackened earth. A chill ran down his spine, not from the cold, but from the sudden, oppressive weight of the atmosphere.
Around him, the crowd grew restless. A young woman clutched her phone, frantically tapping the screen, but it flickered and died, its light swallowed by the encroaching fog. An older man in a heavy coat muttered prayers under his breath, his eyes wide with fear. Children clung to their parents, their cries muffled by the thickening mist. Zhao's own heart raced as he tried to make sense of it. He'd seen strange weather before—typhoons, heatwaves—but this was different. This felt wrong like the world itself was unraveling.
(Planet X10089 has reached sufficient population)
(Activating sequence)
(Mass synchronization in progress....)
(1%..)
(17%)
(30%)
(60%)
(90%)
(99%...)
(Ding.. Planet X10089 has synchronized 100%)
All the people were looking at the sky in disbelief, their faces illuminated by an eerie, crimson glow. The fog seemed to pulse in time with the percentages, as if it were alive, responding to some unseen command.
"Is that something for a movie shoot?" a teenager asked, his voice tinged with nervous laughter. He adjusted his baseball cap, trying to sound casual, but his hands were trembling.
"What movie is getting shot here?" another voice chimed in, a woman in a bright yellow jacket, her eyes darting around as if expecting cameras to appear.
"Wait, it's not possible," a man in a suit interjected, his voice sharp with frustration. "Our current technology won't allow for this. This—this is beyond anything we can do."
Zhao was even more confused. He had come from Beijing to Korea just to celebrate his friend's birthday, a simple trip that now felt like a distant memory. The snow, the fog, the voices in the sky—it was all too much. He rubbed his temples, trying to focus, but his mind was a whirlwind of questions. "I should have just stayed home," he muttered, his voice barely audible over the growing murmur of the crowd. "What the hell is happening?"
But unknown to them all, this was happening across the globe. In cities and villages, deserts and forests, the same red fog had descended, the same mechanical voice echoing in every language. From the bustling streets of New York to the quiet rice fields of Vietnam, humanity stood united in their confusion, their fear, their helplessness.
Their confusion also did not last long, as soon they got an answer. A bright glow came from the sky, piercing through the fog like a blade. All they saw was a halo, its edges sharp and jagged, radiating an otherworldly light that made Zhao's eyes sting. Words appeared in front of them, floating in the air like holograms, each letter burning itself into their minds.
[People of Planet X10089, life is never free. You have lived comfortably for many eons. Now it is time to pay for the crimes you have accumulated during your life.]
The words hung there, heavy and accusing. Zhao felt a knot tighten in his chest. Crimes? What crimes? He was just a college student, not a saint, but not a criminal either. Around him, others reacted in their own ways. A woman sobbed, clutching a rosary. A teenager laughed nervously, muttering, "This has to be a prank, right?" An elderly man shook his fist at the sky, his voice hoarse with anger.
[You all will be teleported to Central Land. There you will face obstacles that will make you think you were never born. But, life never comes with only bad luck. If you are lucky enough, you may become stronger than you can ever imagine.]
But their faces soon changed as a man spoke, his voice loud and brash, cutting through the tension like a knife. "Wait, do you know who I am? My father is the head of the Korean military. If he wishes, he can order the complete annihilation of whoever you are. You'd better let me go!"
The man's words echoed, and for a moment, there was silence. Zhao glanced at him—a young man in an expensive coat, his face flushed with arrogance. But before anyone could even react, the sky, which had turned red, seemed to turn even redder, the color deepening to a bloodlike hue. The air grew hotter, the metallic scent intensifying until it was almost suffocating.
As the halo in the sky opened like an eye, its gaze piercing and unyielding, the whole area felt a force so powerful that people stumbled, their bones creaking under the pressure. Zhao fell to his knees, his vision swimming. The ground beneath him vibrated, and he heard screams—some of pain, some of terror—as the force pressed down on them like an invisible hand.
[It seems there are always idiots in every world. Whatever, you guys will be teleported in 10 seconds.]
(10)
The countdown began, each number reverberating through the air like a death knell. Zhao's mind raced. Ten seconds? To where? Why?
(9)
The fog thickened, swirling around them, its tendrils brushing against their skin like icy fingers.
(8)
People started to panic, some trying to run, others clinging to each other, their cries swallowed by the fog.
(7)
Zhao's hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms. He wanted to scream, to fight, but his body felt frozen, trapped in the grip of something far beyond his understanding.
(6)
The halo pulsed, its light flaring brighter with each passing second, casting long, distorted shadows across the ground.
(5)
The man who had spoken earlier was shouting again, his voice cracking with desperation, but his words were drowned out by the growing hum of energy in the air.
(4)
Zhao's vision blurred, his head pounding as the pressure intensified. He could feel it—a pull, like gravity shifting, tugging at his very being.
(3)
The fog began to glow, its red hue turning almost blinding, and the ground beneath them seemed to dissolve, becoming insubstantial.
(2)
People were screaming now, their voices overlapping in a cacophony of fear. Zhao's heart felt like it would burst, his chest tight with dread.
(1)
All the people felt like their heads would explode as they fell to the ground, their bodies wracked with pain. Zhao had almost crumbled under the agony, his vision darkening at the edges, when he heard the final words, cold and mechanical, echoing through the chaos.
(Teleport complete)