To all of humanity!

Turtlesand, Starlake Province, New Starlake City, Outskirts --

Chilling winter wind cuts through the dry land. It feels like it would have been warmer if the snow piled up even a mere inch.

The sky is clear and the sun at high noon casts the narrowest shadow. The so-called apocalypse dragon, a giant eye, stares at nothing towards the earth.

People have their opinions on today's plan, whether it is wise or wasteful, whether it is too late or very prompt. But, whatever is the correct evaluation, it seems that it is indeed going to happen.

Turtlesand made a bit of a fuss regarding the nuclear attack plan. It was an idea they seriously considered, but something changed along the way that compelled them to get other countries involved in their plans. Someone thought that using a good amount of their arsenals would leave them vulnerable to external threat.

It is a bit of a funny thing, or infuriating.

Turtlesand is the only nation in this world that used their weapons of mass destruction within the decade. And it wasn't even at war with the target nation.

Nothing significant came of it, somehow.

People have been talking, it is not something that can be heard in public.

This incident is perhaps the primary reason they changed their plans, in case some enemy exact vengeance for this or that past misconduct.

Whatever the truth of the matter may be, an international committee was established. And, with a bit or a lot of haggling, a plan was written up with regards to how much each participant will contribute.

"It's time..."

A man in a black jacket spoke to himself, or to the ghosts lurking around the periphery of his vision. Something sticks around his lips, something that had dried off from the wind. His name can only be Jack, otherwise he doesn't know it.

Another man wielding a megaphone addresses the small crowd who came presumably to watch the local missile launch.

There wasn't much of a preamble, or much of a speech. Soon, he started a countdown from ten.

"Nine!"

"Eight!"

"Seven!"

"Six!"

What is it like to observe a missile launch? Is there a roaring sound as fuel burns violently? There must be a strong bang as the air collapse in way that makes such a noise. There must be a white trail following the missile or, rather, the several missiles this nearby launch site is equipped with.

Jack giggled with a fairly deep voice as he saw the missiles fly up to the sky ahead of the count.

This wasn't part of the plan. It shouldn't be. There was a schedule published, and everyone came her with that knowledge.

It's not so likely that everyone have their clocks wrong. And it's just a bit, or more than, likely that who ever is operating whatever equipment launches the missiles committed an error.

How severe will this error prove to be? Jack doesn't know.

A lot of people don't know a lot of things. In fact, everyone know less than they know.

The hallucinations doesn't help Jack's observations. He is fairly certain that what he sees is what he sees, but he can't be certain that what he sees is what is.

This is something pretty much everyone suffers from by now. Jack's condition is just a bit more advanced.

What is it like to observe a nuclear explosion, or a series of it? It must be very bright. People must not witness it directly with their bare eyes, but does it matter when everyone is just a bit, or very much, blind? The clouds, the fallout, the dirtiness -- would they be significant when the explosion happens up there.

Would the dragon fall down to the earth, after the explosion drops it from the invisible loft it lays on?

The earth would shatter under the force of the dragon's great fall.

The attack didn't take long, and yet so many seconds found themselves in those short minutes.

A fraction of the crowd cheers as soon as they looked up.

The dragon is dead.

Another fraction of the crowd turned to each other, as if exchanging notes regarding their individual observations.

The dragon is in an uncertain state.

Yet another fraction of the crowd have a variety of reaction, that can all be interpreted as expressions of despair.

Everything had been a waste.

The megaphone man hides his true expression well. He could have done it sooner or later, but he eventually addresses the confused crowd.

"Better not discuss what you see with each other.

"The dragon is gone, but some of us are still hallucinating.

"The experts told me about how it doesn't all go away immediately."

The organizers then tried to disperse the crowd. There's nothing to do anymore, after all.

The dragon is dead. All this fuss is over, and it's time to go home.

Jack looks around and he sees that the ghosts increased in number, and they don't hide from him anymore.

The hallucinations should have gotten better.

He cannot see the dragon anymore or, rather, he cannot see the eye anymore.

It doesn't make sense that it would just disappear, yes. But it equally didn't make sense that it would just appear.

Yet, Jack doesn't feel the same or better.

Unless, the truth of the matter is that Jack can truly see ghosts and that the dragon hid some of the ghosts from him, for some reason.

There were ghosts he couldn't see before. And just now, he realized that some people in the crowd have always been ghosts.

Jack watches as calmly as he could. He holds his handgun firmly and walks back to his car while quickly scanning through his surroundings.

He needs to get his semi-automatic. He can't even hope that he doesn't need it.

Not having to shoot should be the ideal state, but some instinctual feeling hangs an inch deep into his forehead tells him that he might have to shoot.

Jack read about this.

Celebrity singer Adamas, a dragon prophet, talked about demons appearing among humans. There was no specific timeframe for when they start to appear, just that there is an order to which the dragon apocalypse progresses. The demons come some time after the dragon starts to regularly emit that dreadful screech, and some time before people go mad.

Not much has been said about the demons, but it is presumed that they are hostile to humans.

Jack takes a mental step back.

What if demons have already appeared and he simply hasn't encountered one?

What if he's experiencing the madness stage already?

Jack has thought about the problem before, when he had a lot more clarity of mind to work with.

Everyone has been hallucinating early on. If the prophecy is correct, and if Jack's interpretation is correct, then this cannot be the madness stage, otherwise, everyone has been experiencing this from the beginning.

There is such a contradiction. The prophecy can only be true if this isn't the madness stage, because if it is, the madness stage would have been the first stage, effecting the collective delusion that makes everyone see the dragon.

So, are the ghosts demons?

Jack wants to shoot them so bad, that it is affecting his judgment.

He replaced his handgun for the Facil-28 he wanted.

What has he overlooked?

The answer reveals itself.

A ghost looks directly at him. Jack cannot make out its expression but its ill intent becomes apparently when it disappeared into the shadow, cursing.

The ghost can only be a demon.

Jack pointed his gun where the ghost disappeared and considered his action again. He wants to shoot, but perhaps it's not the wisest thing to do in this situation.

Are all ghosts demons? If so, are they all immediately hostile to Jack? If he shoots, will he have to take down everyone? Can he take on tens of demons?

Should he just drive away as quickly as possible?

With good aim, he can take down thirteen of them.

That will be a service to his neighbors at Starlake, to Turtlesand--

To all of humanity!

Jack shoots at the closest ghost while scanning for the one that disappeared earlier.

The ghosts scattered from his vision, hiding in the shadows of his periphery.

Jack traced one and shot at it.

A ghost lunges at him.

Jack shoots.

Jack shoots another.

Jack shoots yet another. His eyes swim as he scans for the next target.

The deafening sound rings in Jacks ears.

The smell of blood arouses his senses.

A metallic taste, and a dry bitter air, ran through his nostrils.

Jack lost his sense of being for a second.

He can feel the grit through his thick clothes.

He is down on the ground, perhaps bleeding, perhaps to death.

The ghosts have disappeared.

The two giant eyes in the sky seem to look at him, and only him.