Chapter 3:

And he simply ran away...

Leaving Yuri completely alone. Wait. He never asked where the exit was! He needed to run after him immediately. Otherwise he'd be stuck in this hole for an indefinite amount of time with no way out. Which, all in all, wouldn't change his situation all that dramatically.

And if you think about it logically — was there even any point in leaving? Well, I mean, apart from the absence of people, everything here was identical to the normal world. Hang on — was there Wi-Fi here?

He could check on the nearest computer. Well, damn. There was Wi-Fi.

— ####

[MWEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHAHAHAHA!]

Death by starvation? Relax. If he was locked in a world with the exact same resources, updating in real time — why would he even want to leave?!

What could that miserable reality possibly offer him? Overtime? Yes! A dickhead boss? Yes! Happiness? No! Rest? Well, technically there could have been, if he'd ever taken his vacation days — but that doesn't count, so also no!

Why would he want that kind of life? Better to exist irresponsibly in this paradise. Drag in a folding cot and some odds and ends for comfort — and his life would literally become a utopia.

But most importantly — build a high-spec PC. Oh Lord, if you do exist in this wretched world — I am sincerely grateful.

=

The days dragged by unnoticed. Of course they would go unnoticed — would an accountant who had previously been living in conditions of practical labour slavery notice something as trivial as the cycle of day and night changing?

Although hunger gnawed at him slightly, as if consuming the very concept of his soul — compared to round-the-clock access to a high-performance PC, it was a trifle unworthy of attention.

The constant raids by Chinese clans in Rust were far more important than his physical condition. Had he ever once tried to contact the outside world? Why would he? A person seeks out their own kind for the sake of communication — but did he need communication when he had such an enormous number of online games and an easily topped-up Steam wallet? To be slightly more precise — his location didn't allow him to top up Steam directly, [your ad could go here]. But that didn't mean it was impossible, just a little more complicated. One way or another, his life rotted flowed along as usual.

Sometimes he woke up in the morning, sometimes at noon, occasionally in the middle of the night. But that wasn't important. What was important was something else entirely — his hours logged and his rank on the Discord server of fellow no-lifers just like himself.

Perhaps, as a thirty-year-old man, needing attention from random strangers on the internet was pathetic. But it didn't trouble him. The only source of distress in his life had become one small affliction.

Grrr.

It seemed he was dying of hunger. And not metaphorically. He didn't know how much time he had left, given that he was also suffering from a hellish thirst. But it didn't matter. Even if he died — it wouldn't matter. Did he have friends who might grieve for him?

They had vanished after school, when he himself had drifted away from them. Did he have a beloved who might feel the bitterness of his disappearance? What a joke — he had never been in a relationship, he'd never had the time for it. Did he have a family who might mourn him?..

[Mum.]

...

...

...

[Forgive me, Mum. I'm a complete nobody, Mum. I couldn't live up to your expectations, Mum. I just disappeared, like the piece of garbage I've been my whole life. Y...you]

Sometimes thoughts break off — just as another of Yuri's lives broke off. But doesn't such an ending feel too abrupt? Doesn't such a narrative feel too choppy? Isn't there a sense of storylines going nowhere?

Then perhaps this story ought to be told differently? Oh, but what am I to do? I've already grown attached to Yuri — though he was nothing special, it was precisely his lack of uniqueness that made him interesting to me. In a world teeming with anomalies, there were obviously far more interesting people. But those people weren't mine, and Yuri was only mine — so what is the point of continuing to watch a story that no longer contains the one I genuinely loved?

Why would I watch that time in which he doesn't exist? It is truly sorrowful — so much so that it pierces my very existence. So could those who chose to watch as well please forgive me? For I am about to do something extremely irritating — something I will keep doing. Ha. Obviously there's no one here. And even if there were — who could stop me? For all people have long since been dead.

=

Nine in the morning, the fifth day, the fourth month. Yuri was still sitting at his computer, slowly contemplating the number of resources needed to set up his base. But this time his thoughts couldn't focus on the monitor screen and were wandering in a strange direction.

Some irritating smell kept sticking to his nose, making him salivate. Even though he didn't even have a head!

His irritation-filled body followed his owner's mind. His movements were surprisingly quick for someone who had been sitting for several weeks — but that wasn't particularly important.

All that mattered was this maddening smell. This disgustingly enticing smell. This shiver-inducing aroma. This piquant, gnawing-hunger-inducing scent.

It had to be somewhere nearby. Yuri could feel it — he had no idea how, but he could absolutely feel it. A few more turns — and he would be where the smell was strongest.

A few more doors — and he would find out what had been disturbing his mind so. Behind the first door was his boss's office — but that was just a passageway, he needed to go further. Behind the second door was a corridor that shouldn't have been there — but that didn't matter, the smell was getting stronger. Behind the third door were the ruins of some temple, which made no sense — but there was no time for questions either: Yuri sensed that if he didn't hurry, he wouldn't be able to find the smell. Behind the fourth door was a yellow field. There were no more doors — but why would Yuri need doors? He could smell it, and if he could smell it — he would find a way. And right now the smell was coming from underground. But how to get there? He didn't even have a shovel. [SHIT, THE SMELL IS DISAPPEARING!] Forget the shovel — he could dig with his hands. It hurt, the earth was full of rocks and packed too tightly. Which meant he needed to avoid touching the rocks. Wait — if he could avoid touching the rocks, then why not pass through the earth itself? If he leaned right, then a little to the left — he could do it! YES, YES, YES! HE CAN DEFINITELY DO IT!

He skipped the fifth door but ended up behind it. Around him was a white lake, and in the distance stood giants, gazing at Yuri with curiosity. The lake was trying to devour him — pulling him in. But he had no time for that! He needed to reach the smell, he needed to devour the smell, he needed to become one with it — for without it he was incomplete. Precisely so. That was why Yuri needed to run. Even as the water grabbed at him — how was water any different from earth or rock? Who did the water think it was to grab Yuri?! It would not dare. He would not allow it to even touch him! He needed to lean deeper, then left, then up.

The lake tried — but failed to devour Yuri. The giants, meanwhile, stirred and began to move. Their stride was so immense that their very movement transcended the concept of escape. But Yuri was not planning to flee — he needed to pass through. Through what exactly — he didn't understand, and there wasn't much point to it anyway. All that was needed was a door.

Where Yuri had been, enormous holes were left behind. How can there be holes in a lake of white water? Not Yuri's concern. He needed to get through that door — and he would get through it.

The giants had apparently figured out his plan and instead of trying to catch him began trying to beat him. It was painful — hellishly painful, as if his body were being torn apart. He had been about to give up. [THE SMELL.] But the smell that struck his nose once more told him clearly what he needed to do. Dive right, then down, then...

...

..

.

He found himself behind the sixth door. Beaten, weakened — but it didn't matter. He couldn't walk: his legs had been torn off, and he was crawling on one arm. But that didn't matter either. Right behind the sixth door, in a world of fog where there was nothing, lay a head. It was beautiful — its contours graceful, though its eyes were dead. Its smell was so wondrous, so beautiful, that even with just one arm it made Yuri crawl straight toward it.

That head. That beautiful head. It was meant to be on his neck. And indeed — the moment he simply pressed it into place, the head fit perfectly, and a strange steam began rising from his body. But that didn't matter.