Sons of Absolute Zero

And then I woke up.

Or so I thought.

But what happened to me was… I don’t know if waking is the right word. That was not the roof. No sky. It wasn't night.

I was sitting... in a box. A strange one. The walls were soft yet firm. The ground beneath me thrummed with motion, like a beast carrying me without legs. A belt coiled across my chest and waist, holding me in place.

A window stood at my side.

Through it, I saw a world that did not belong to me.

Houses—no, towers... rising higher than our palace, their glass skins gleaming under the sun. Machines on wheels, hundreds of them, rushed past on glimmering black paths. The roads crisscrossed like a spider’s web, illuminated with red and green lights that dictated the flow.

The people outside… wore strange clothes. Black clothes, not any tunic, and blinking objects on their hands. They moved fast. None carried swords. None bore ears or tails. They looked like the humans in the pictographs my brother once showed me. They looked real and restless, unlike any dream.

Am I still in my subconscious?
Or, am I hallucinating?

I tried to move my body, but it wasn’t mine anymore. I couldn’t blink. I couldn’t speak. I could only watch, trapped behind the eyes of a man I didn’t know.

Then I saw my reflection in the window.
Silver-gray hair spilled across my forehead. Cold, sharp eyes followed by deep, molten gold irises. A high collar wrapped around my neck, associated with a pauldron attached with fur-like silk.

And below it… was a coat. I have never seen it, but somehow I knew that word.

My body... no—his body moved with precision, not grace. The hand reached into the pocket, checked something glowing. A rectangular crystal—no, not a crystal. Something else. Letters danced across it. It was a different language, yet I understood them. It showed the current time: 5.48 pm.

Then the car stopped. My mind told me the name of the moving box, quite a strange one.

Doors opened with a soft hiss. Another man in black bowed and stepped aside. Without hesitation, I stepped out.

The city loomed around me, yet he... we ignored it. Every step was calculated. Focused. We approached a tower that whose head faded into the clouds. Its entrance was all glass and steel, polished like obsidian. A name hung above the door in characters, unknown. But I felt their weight, and was able to read it—ABSOLUTE. This place meant something. Something final.

Inside, three figures joined us. Men, all in matching coats, with golden pins shaped like triangles on their collars. None spoke. They flanked me like shadows.

The lobby was silent, sterile. White floors. Silver panels. Lights embedded in the ceiling that buzzed faintly as we passed.

We entered a small chamber... an elevator.

It closed with a hum and began to descend. Not upward toward the sky, but deep, deep below the ground. My chest tightened. Even though I couldn't move, my instincts screamed.

How far down are we going?

There were no windows anymore. Just the flickering number on a panel overhead:
-3
-4
-5

Then it stopped. The doors opened.

Darkness welcomed us.

A long corridor stretched ahead, lit only by red strips along the walls. The sound of our footsteps echoed in a strange rhythm, bouncing off metal and stone.

Then the hall ended.

We stepped into a vast chamber, ceiling lost in shadow. There were torches burning at the edges, but they weren’t made of fire, just faint glowing rods humming with unnatural light.

And there, beneath the center of it all, stood an altar—no a stage.

Dozens of figures were gathered below it, draped in dark hoods, faces hidden.
A ritual? A sermon?
Their heads turned toward us in perfect unison.

No cheers. No whispers.

Just silence.

We walked to the stage without hesitation. The three subordinates stood behind us, hands at their backs, faces unreadable.

We stood at the center. The lights dimmed. The silence thickened.

And deep inside me, something stirred.
A pressure.
A presence.
Like a voice I hadn’t yet heard… but already feared.

Then the body finally spoke. It was not my voice, but it felt familiar.

"This… is the day… we all waited for."

His voice echoed with calm finality. Not thunderous, but deep enough to reach every corner of that underground hall.

"Behold, my Sons of Absolute Zero," he continued, "As we announce our glory to the world."

No one responded.

No applause.

No shouts of loyalty.

Only silence. Intentional. Controlled.

From behind him, three subordinates approached and wordlessly assembled some odd-looking machines, a broadcasting unit—a sleek, matte-black construct, with a glowing insignia: a perfect circle etched with a descending line, vanishing to nothing.

The reflection went live.

He turned toward the lens, toward the world.

And he smiled.

"To all listening, wherever you are…
Good evening.
Or should I say... final evening."

He paused. Not for effect. But for weight.

"In the end… all things return to the Zero.
Absolute.
Inevitable.
Glorious."

The room remained breathless.

"Salvation is at the door," he said, voice laced with warmth, as though comforting children. "Already knocking, waiting for us to open it."

"There will be no tomorrow.
That means there will be nothing left to fear.
Nothing to carry.
Nothing to fail.”

He glanced downward, almost sorrowful.

"Now… you may lay down your tiredness.
Rest is coming. 
Eternal.
Clean."

The screen behind him flickered with data. Charts. Timelines. A countdown had already begun.

"Within six hours, the global population will fall to five percent. And within the year, the last remaining fragments will perish: starvation, collapse, solitude. We would free them too… but even we are not that merciful to save everyone all at once."

"I do not know," he admitted, "Who those five percent will be. Nor do I care.
So I say this: spend your last quarter-day as you will.
There are no wrong answers now."

"This is not any mischievous act. This is my message to the world.
You are not the only ones watching."

He stepped closer to the camera.

"The whole Earth is watching this with you."

His eyes narrowed. Not in cruelty, but certainty.

"So let everyone feel it... the weight of what is to come.”

He stepped back. Lights dimmed.

"I will be your host again," he whispered, "After the estimated time."

"Together, we will watch the world end."

The broadcast cut to black.

The hall remained silent.

Lights were gone.

Darkness.