At first, he thought it was just exhaustion. The way people moved—slow, mechanical, their eyes dull as if sleepwalking through life. No urgency. No curiosity. Just repetition.
But then he noticed the patterns. The same conversations, the same empty smiles, the same rehearsed responses. He tested it once—asked a stranger, “Do you ever wonder if this world is real?”
A blank stare. A polite chuckle. Then, silence.
He tried again, with others. “Do you ever feel like something is… missing?”
Another forced smile. Another shrug. Then, back to their routines.
It was like shouting into a void. No echoes, no resistance. Just… nothing.
And then, one day, he saw it.
A woman standing on the sidewalk, staring at a traffic light that never changed. People walked past her, unfazed, stepping off the curb at the same exact moment, in perfect unison. The woman didn’t move. She didn’t blink.
But when he stepped closer, she turned. And for the first time, he saw someone awake.
Her eyes weren’t hollow. They were afraid.
“Run,” she whispered.
And suddenly, the world seemed far too quiet.
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