The damn clock on the office wall already said 10:15 p.m. Every single tick sounded like it was laughing at me, counting down whatever time I had left before everything went to shit.
I was the only idiot still stuck there.
I was the only one still there. Everyone else had gone home hours ago. I was hunched over my monitor, typing like a maniac. My wrists were screaming from carpal tunnel, but I didn't give a damn. If I didn't finish this stupid report before midnight, I was done for.
It wasn't like I could afford to mess up. In this company, one mistake and you're out. A late file, a badly written sentence… that's all it takes. And for me, getting fired meant losing my health insurance, getting kicked out of my crappy apartment, and basically watching my whole life go down the drain.
The boss's email had been brutally clear: "By midnight. No excuses."
Suddenly my heart lurched. My throat closed up. The walls of my tiny cubicle felt like they were shrinking around me. Cold sweat broke out on my back even though the AC was blasting.
"I have to finish this… or they're gonna fire me…"
My fingers weren't cooperating anymore. They felt heavy, clumsy. I started smashing the keys harder, desperate.
Then the screen went crazy.
The colors flipped. My white document turned pitch black, and the letters glowed this bright electric cyan that burned my eyes. A high-pitched buzzing started coming from the monitor, like something inside it was about to snap.
I tried to stand up, but my legs had gone completely numb after sitting for so many hours. I couldn't feel anything from the waist down.
"No, no, no… not now, you piece of shit! Don't do this to me!"
I kept hammering the keyboard like an idiot. If the computer died right then, it was game over.
The buzzing got louder, like an engine about to explode. The light from the monitor started spreading, swallowing the desk, the stapler, the old photo of my dog who passed away… and then it swallowed me too.
I felt myself falling.
When everything stopped, the only thing left in the silent office was my ID card lying on the floor:
Caelum D. Vesper
—
"The report! The fucking report!"
I woke up screaming, arms flailing, desperately reaching for the keyboard… but all I felt was hot sand.
I opened my eyes. The sun slammed straight into my face, so bright it made my eyes sting.
"What the… where the hell am I?"
I sat up fast. No cubicles. No buzzing fluorescent lights. Just beach. Endless white sand, turquoise water stretching forever, and the sound of waves crashing.
I just stared, completely lost.
In any other situation, a normal person would've thought "I got isekai'd" or some crap like that. Not me. My first thought was way more pathetic:
"I'm gonna look like such an idiot at work tomorrow."
"What time is it?" I muttered, frantically patting the pockets of my dress pants for my phone.
I found it. The screen was cracked. It wouldn't turn on no matter how many times I pressed the button.
My knees gave out and I dropped onto the sand. Pure panic rose in my throat like vomit.
This had to be some kind of sick joke. I couldn't be here. I had to submit that report by midnight or my supervisor was going to destroy me.
I turned toward the jungle behind me and shouted, voice cracking:
"Hey! Anybody there? Come on, joke's over! I need to get back!"
Only birds answered.
I ran toward the water, my stupid leather shoes slipping on the wet sand. I screamed at the horizon like a lunatic. My tie felt like it was trying to choke me, so I yanked it loose with shaking hands.
I can't swim. I don't know where I am. I don't know anything.
I looked down at my hands — sunburned already, covered in sand. Same weak, soft office hands as always. No strength. No scars. Nothing useful.
The sun started to set, painting the sky blood red. Then the real hunger hit. Not the "I'll grab something from the vending machine" kind. The actual, painful kind.
I sat under a palm tree, hugging my knees to my chest. Every rustle from the jungle made me flinch.
I squeezed my eyes shut, praying I'd wake up back in my cubicle with the sound of typing and the smell of burnt coffee.
When I opened them again… there were only stars. Thousands of them. A sky you never see in the city.
"It's… beautiful," I whispered, my voice barely there.
And then reality crashed down on me like a cold wave.
I don't know how to make a fire. I don't know how to find clean water. I don't know how to defend myself from anything.
Tomorrow is Monday.
Tomorrow is Monday… and it's the first time in my life I'm going to miss work.
There, sitting on that empty beach in my wrinkled suit and sand-filled shoes, there was no chosen one. No magic sword. No princess waiting to be rescued.
Just me.
A completely ordinary guy.
Completely alone for the first time in his life.