“New Year's Eve folks, and what a night it is. I hope everyone is tuning in on their Elysions in celebratory spirits. Tonight is more than just the dawn of a new century, but the hush before the onset of a dare I say terrifying era. Liminal Corporations, not only have they curated those lovely holographic television sets you guys are watching on, but they have also been working on a little project dubbed the Anteroom Initiative. The “AI ” of the 23rd century, as they say, a little on the nose, I think. Sit tight, folks, because in exactly 27 minutes, we will hopefully find out where each of us will be going after, how should I put it, we have kicked the bucket. Kick back and relax, have your D.A.V.Es grab you a beer, make sure it's ice cold!”
6 Minutes remaining
They told him it would be quiet; they lied. The room was silent, but far from quiet. There is no way to rid of the voice in one's head. They told him it would be pleasantly warm; they lied. He shivered from head to toe, but was that really the cold? They told him he was coming back; was that a lie as well? One month ago, recruitment notices were broadcast to every Elysion on the grid. Nico remembered his tears dripping sluggishly down his face, and the numbing burn of a swig of Nirvex dribbling down his throat. He was forgetting her face. He forced his eyes shut and tried to take himself back to that day on the beach. Nico could feel her smile, warmer than the sunset cascading in front of him. He could hear her laughter, endearing and sweeter than the coconuts they shared on this scorching summer day. Yet he just couldn’t see her face. So he signed up, gently tapping the pulsating neon letters projected from his Elysion. That night, he took out his golden crucifix, for the first time since he held her hand for the last, and clipped the chain gingerly around his neck. Nico was jolted from his trance by Dr. Qin’s lifeless tone: “Systems nominal, initiate countdown, how are you doing in there, Nico?” Nico was taken aback by the hint of warmth in his cold, robotic voice: “About as well as you can imagine, sir, but holding on.” Holding on, holding on to hope of seeing her again, holding on to the little life he had left. The crucifix pressed icy cold against his bare chest. He wished to be right; he wished that her face would emerge from the gloom. Did He? If his wishes were fulfilled, he might just extend his stay. He looked up at the camera lens and smiled for the world to see; hopefully, they wouldn’t notice the sadness in his eyes.
5 Minutes remaining
The hologram was blurred by Mira’s tears. She can’t cry like she used to; she doesn’t have enough left in her to scream and sob, only able to shed helpless tears, one drop at a time. Mira turned to study her own reflection in the mirror. Blue was always her color, but the blue of the hospital gown was different; a painfully sterile and muted tone, sapping the little warmth that was left in her once beaming face. Her body was threadbare at best, and her eyes were only bright when tears were there to reflect the light. She tumbled into her brother's arm, his tears dripping down to join hers. Her eyes were still transfixed on the man who was about to change the world. “It should have been me,” she whispered, “I needed it to be me.” Her brother squeezed her ever so tightly, a gentle warmth on her delicate fragility. She had also signed up for the program. “You have left much to this world, my dear Mira, your warmth, your joy, your liveliness, that is more than enough to go around.” Some parts of her believed him, but not her heart; she still couldn’t help but close her watery eyes, and imagine herself in the gallant white bared now by Nico Valle.
4 Minutes remaining
Damian sat there, slumping, in the back pews of the church, head tilted up towards the paned glass ceilings, etched with stars from another age; behind them, the night sky of a much darker day shone through. He was frozen, staring at the stars, and they winked at him. He closed his eyes to feel the wind from the open windows briskly brush against his cheek, whistling past his ears in a foreboding yet gentle whisper. “ Is that you!?” He yelled, the sound cascading and reverberating in the halls, “Say Something! Say Something…….please.” He fell to the ground, clambering up the aisle on his knees. The altar remained still. The candles flickered but did not answer.He clasped his hands together, but he no longer knew what to pray for. For assurance of his beliefs? There is no magic in that kind of faith. To be wrong? He didn’t think he would be able to let go.
3 Minutes remaining
“Look, Ash, the sky is bright tonight.” “All I see is you, Grace.” “Shut up, you're gonna make me puke.” She leaned against his shoulder, staring deep into his starry eyes. The world around them buzzed, but that rooftop held the warmest of silences.
2 Minutes remaining
Thalia buried her face deep into her lap. They had failed, she had failed. The holding cell grew colder with every tick of the clock coming from the offices to the right. She mourned her father and the death of her cause, but more so, the impending unraveling. How many gods will be rendered ghost stories, how many prayers become hollow, how much faith will be extinguished? And those who are proved right? They will have to carry the weight of scattered remnants of broken hearts and wills. She tried, she really tried, but that bullet it stopped more than her father's heart. She could have continued, maybe stopped the “unveiling”, yet she faltered, crumpled to the ground next to him. She thought her humanity was her greatest strength, yet it betrayed her. Through sniffles, tears, and her stealth suit, she whispered the slogan one last time: “There is reassurance in the unknown.”
1 Minute remaining
There is no reassurance in the unknown. Dr. Qin had learned that early and learned it the hard way. Yet as the seconds ticked by, he wavered, his heart again threatened to overrule his mind. He tightened his hands behind his back. Once, hesitation had cost him everything. He would not let it happen again. He whispered under his breath: Humanity’s greatest weakness was its humanity. Truth, truth was all he cared about; he had thought about the consequences, of course, he took everything into consideration. Rationality is his greatest strength. He stared through the glass window of the control station, the room around him buzzed with busywork, checkups, and the foreboding beep of the countdown; only seconds remained. 5….. He brought his hands out from behind his back. 4….He felt his legs wobble beneath him, and he leaned forward so his hands could support him on the railings 3… He closed his eyes. 2.. He smiled. 1. As he let out a sigh of relief, the world held its breath. Was it the pause before the performance of a grand symphony? He thought to himself. Or was it the calm before the storm?