Elise looked over her shoulder.
"So… this is what the beginning of the end looks like, interesting~."
She floated down and sat cross-legged in midair.
"You've seen this before."
"Yes."
"And it still feels strange, doesn't it?"
Reed didn't answer because his silence itself was an answer. Elise watched him quietly for a moment before speaking again.
"Do you think any protagonists are here?"
"Possibly."
"Are we hunting them?"
"Most likely no."
"Then what are we doing?"
Reed closed his eyes, pretending to be the silent buddha.
"Hey, answer me!!"
The city outside slowly settled into uneasy sleep.
But even at night the heat remained heavy, clinging to the buildings like an invisible blanket.
Sirens echoed occasionally in the distance, somewhere a crowd shouted angrily, glass shattered.
Then silence returned as Reed slept lightly, not the deep sleep of comfort, not with the hell going outside. But in the alert rest of someone who had spent years surviving danger, morning arrived slowly.
The first rays of sunlight crept through the narrow window.
Elise was already floating near the ceiling, staring outside with an unusually serious expression. Noticing him wake up, she pointed toward the window.
Reed stood and pulled the curtain aside.
The city looked worse than the night before.
The sky had become a deeper orange-red, and the sunlight pouring between the buildings felt harsher and almost metallic.
Even inside the room, the temperature was rising quickly. People had already left the streets deserted.
He checked his phone, it got no signal. The network had completely collapsed overnight, just like he expected.
A sudden crackling noise echoed through the hallway speakers.
The hotel's intercom system activated briefly.
"…Attention guests… the city power grid has failed… emergency generators will operate temporarily…"
The message cut off abruptly.
A few seconds later, the air conditioner in the room died. The faint humming sound stopped as the entire room became silent with only the heat rushing in.
Elise grimaced.
"Well… that didn't last long."
Reed walked to the window again, looking towards the skycrapers that feels empty now.
Outside, the effect was immediate. Without electricity, buildings lost their cooling systems. Within minutes the temperature inside apartments and shops began rising rapidly.
With despair on their head, someone tried to leave the building. Coming out for a few minutes, heat stroke took over as his body fell down, completely unconscious.
The worst part, however, was that his friends didn't even come out of the building to support him, the same kind who supported him to go out.
And all this was witnessed by many people, causing a chill down their spine.
Elise watched the chaos with wide eyes.
"This escalated fast."
"This is only the second day."
Reed spoke quietly.
The thin line between civilization and desperation was starting to crack.
The hotel hallway suddenly welcomed hundreds of guests.
Guests came out looking confused and irritated.
Some complained loudly about the electricity outage.
Others demanded refunds from the overwhelmed staff downstairs.
Reed left the room and walked down the staircase calmly while Elise followed close behind.
When they reached the lobby, the receptionist from last night looked exhausted. Several guests were arguing with her at once.
"This is unacceptable!"
"How can a hotel lose power in the middle of a heatwave?!"
"Give us our money back!"
The poor woman looked close to tears, already traumatized from the chaos but had to deal with these bunch of idiots.
"Do you think you can resist the overwhelming heat outside?! If you do, please... Try to step out of this hotel."
Unable to hold it in, she burst out.
And only silence remained, all of them knew, going out was... but a death wish.
The heat wasn't just high anymore... It was lethal.
The crowd that had been shouting moments ago suddenly lost their voices. Their anger, entitlement and arrogance… all of it melted away under the weight of reality.
One of the men who had been yelling the loudest slowly lowered his hand.
"…T-then what are we supposed to do?"
His voice trembled now, completely different from before.
The receptionist laughed dejectedly.
"The real question is... what can you do?"
She said, wiping the corner of her eyes, though whether it was sweat or tears, even she didn't know anymore.
"Can you fix everything wrong going on right now?! No right??"
No one answered.
Because there was no answer.
Reed stood quietly at the edge of the lobby, watching everything unfold.
Elise floated beside him, her usual playful expression gone.
"…They're breaking faster than I expected."
Reed didn't look away from the scene.
Humans weren't weak, but they had forgotten how to survive without the system.
Electricity, internet, supply chains helped them way too much.
Remove those… and most people didn't know what to do next.
A woman suddenly rushed toward the entrance, panic written all over her face.
"I can't just stay here like this! My child is waiting for me, i-i need to go! My child is alone at home, I have to—"
Her voice cracked midway, desperation overtaking reason, before anyone could stop her, she pushed the glass door open and rushed outside.
The heat hit her instantly. It was suffocating… like stepping into a furnace.
For a brief moment, she endured it, forcing her legs to move forward. One step, then another , but her breathing soon grew ragged, her vision blurred as the scorching air burned her lungs with every inhale.
But not for long.
Her body began to tremble uncontrollably, her knees buckled as sweat poured from her skin only to evaporate almost instantly.
She staggered and then—
*Thud*
She collapsed onto the pavement, motionless.
A collective gasp echoed inside the lobby.
That was how fragile the human body was under such extreme conditions.
But this time, something different happened.
Two men near the entrance snapped out of their shock. Gritting their teeth, they rushed forward without hesitation.
"Quick!"
One of them shouted.
They covered their face with their sleeves and sprinted out, the heat slamming into them just as brutally.
