“Mom?” He murmured. “Nancy?”

He woke to the clang of swords and the sound of an incoherent, muffled voice. His eyes burned. His head throbbed, and his numb cheek was marked with the seam of the sofa that should have been thrown out a year ago. It felt awfully rough; synthetic and sticky.

Instant ramen noodles had spilled on the sofa. He pushed the waste to the edge, and it fell on the floor. It spattered under the coffee table. He didn’t care.

Another sword clanged.

He recoiled slightly, but continued ignoring it. Just how he’d done before. Many years before.

Three of the four walls that surrounded him, carried the eerie shadows of the TV screen. Only the wall behind the samurai movie was dark, that’s where he wanted to be. But he couldn’t.

He lifted a hand, aiming it at the smartphone lying in the middle of the coffee table. Next to the phone was the remote control, both obscured by a few wrinkled magazines and out of his reach.

Listless, he gave up on acquiring either item, turned over on the sofa, and directed his gaze away from the TV, unwashed clothes, and empty food cartons.

Consciousness drifted back to what he had been dreaming about—the two women. Their faces were clear in his mind before he was jolted awake by another clang. The movie now showed two samurais engaged in their final battle, nearing its conclusion.

With his face turned toward the backrest of the couch, he missed it.

But he didn't care. He hadn't cared then, when he should have. Why would he care now, in this darkness? Every day, his head hurt, both physically and emotionally.

Summoning every ounce of strength, he shoved the magazines aside and dragged his phone and the remote toward him.

Motivation, painful memories and physical pain were constantly fighting for control. Each battle drained him more and more. He didn’t have the energy to go to work and he didn’t want to.

I should send a text. I should let them know.

A samurai died on the TV screen before it went black. His eyes also went black…

***

The plain white ceiling came into view. This time he woke naturally. He didn’t know how much time had passed, nor did it matter, but dawn peeked through the window. Maybe he should send that text and let them know he wasn’t coming to work. It would be the third time this week, and he didn’t even have any time off left, but he didn’t care.

He didn’t even know what he did in that job. Half the time he sat in front of a computer. The other half was spent in meetings that always deferred discussions to the next meeting.

There was no motivation left. The last drop vanished along with that sent text.

Then all the memories flooded back. Followed by the migraines.

He thought about it…ending it all. But that was the one thing he wouldn’t yield. Hope remained. He knew the pizza boxes, stench, trash, pain, suffering… were all temporary. Every chapter had its end, but he feared he wouldn’t last.

Tomorrow will be the best day ever, he thought.

His mother always read a book to him before bed when he was a kid. It was his favorite part of the day.

“Time for bed,” his mother would say. “Tomorrow will be the best day ever.”

His mother was single. When he was young she found a good job in the city, but they couldn’t afford to live there. She commuted by train and bus to her job. Every day she left while it was still night outside and returned after it got dark.

So much time wasted, he thought now, as he turned to face the TV. I wish you were still here. I knew you would be with me forever, but this was too soon. It was my time to take care of you.

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Fuck you Nancy!

He didn’t feel that way, not really. Nancy tried. She genuinely tried to be supportive after the tragedy. But it had taken too long. He didn’t know how long it’d been—months, a year?—he wondered.

Nancy and he were engaged. They had planned the perfect, normal future. He had been an only child, so he yearned for a big family; at least three kids. They would buy a house together in the suburbs and work near the city. Picture perfect!

Back when the man still had energy to come out of his apartment, he visited Nancy. He sought comfort.

As spiritless as he was, Nancy was all he had left. She was her only lifeline.

Although they hadn’t officially broken up, she’d already told him that she couldn’t wait for him anymore, that it had been too long and that he needed professional help. Professional help, the man didn’t have any interest in that. He didn’t even have motivation to let her know he was coming.

With sluggish movements, he turned the key to her apartment and shuffled toward her bedroom. He opened the door and saw Nancy. She was happy, but only for a brief moment. Her face drained of color. There was a blonde man next to her on the bed. The sight didn’t evoke any emotions in him. Maybe the blonde man smiled; he didn’t know and, quite frankly, he didn’t care.

He didn’t say a word and simply strolled out of the apartment and into isolation.

The man didn’t blame her. He knew he was hopeless right now. Life had lost all meaning and that meant something.

It meant that he was starting to understand his feelings. He had accepted his mother’s death, a long time had passed after all. But there was nothing he wanted, nothing worth getting up and about. Life felt dull. But someday, tomorrow will be the best day ever.

Every day made it harder and harder to hold on to those words. Even though nothing exciting ever happened and he could end it all in an instant, he wasn’t going to let all of his mother’s effort and sacrifice go to waste.

The sound of footsteps approached his apartment. His front door slammed open, yet he didn’t bother to look.

He felt a pair of strong hands clutching his shoulders and manhandling him, turning him over on his sofa. The human touch offered a hint of calm.

First, he noticed the intruder's appearance: ripped jeans and a goofy hairstyle. The man also wore an oversized, bright Hawaiian shirt that added a dash of color to the black and white environment. The eccentric individual forcefully swept everything off the coffee table and sat on it.

He recognized the man in the Hawaiian shirt. It was Felipe, a very old, old friend.

“Come on Allen, get up! Get dressed! Where are your shoes?” Felipe commanded in rapid succession. His Spanish accent was more pronounced than Alan remembered. “It smells like shit in here,” he quickly added, followed by a gag reflex.

“I’m fine. I’ll call you tomorrow,” Alan murmured.

Alan knew he was being very rude. He hadn’t seen Felipe in ten years. But his spirit was as dead as his mother, and he couldn’t perceive the world beyond the confines of his apartment.

“I’m sorry Alan, I should’ve been here sooner,” Felipe said with a softer voice. “To be honest, I was scared. We’ve not seen each other in so long. But I knew you needed me, I know you man. I’m sorry about your mother. I know it’s not the same, but she meant a lot to me as well. You know my mom wasn’t around, but not because she was working like yours… Nevermind, I spent a lot of time with you, and Amelia treated me better than my own mother. She was there for me, she helped with homework… and I want to be there for you.”

Some of the words reached Alan, but it wasn’t enough. They didn’t compel a reaction. Alan, just turned and faced the backrest.

“I feel like I’m giving a monologue here. Give me something, man,” Felipe said.

“You are,” was his only answer.

“Actually, you don’t have to say anything, but I’m staying here,” Felipe said, then stood up.

“Don’t bother. I’m not gonna do anything.”

Felipe rummaged through the apartment’s tiny kitchen, then began, “Remember those trading card tournaments she used to take us on Saturdays. They were based on that anime, what was it? Yuyiyu? Or was it Yulogo?”

He heard the sound of Felipe grabbing the edges of a trash bag and fluffing it open. He was faintly relieved that Felipe didn’t leave. It wasn’t much, but it brought a palpable warmth to the room.

Felipe continued as he started throwing away the big items. “Oh man, remember those days when we played video games all night? And then out of nowhere, the sun would shine through the window? Scared the hell out of us. We knew we'd fucked up. But we didn’t care, did we? We slept until noon, ate, and then played video games again. Those were the good old days. Oh, by the way, do you have a mop? And... what's all this crap?”

All of a sudden, Felipe’s words started muffling out, until Alan couldn’t hear them anymore. The world froze and everything went black.

A message started playing in a robotic voice that sounded excited, but not overly so. The information also appeared in front of him. The words were being typed slightly faster than they were being said.

SYSTEM MESSAGE: UNIVERSAL INTEGRATION INITIATED

To the inhabitants of Planet Earth, Galaxy [Milky Way]:

Congratulations! Your galaxy has successfully met the necessary criteria for integration into the Universal Collective. We understand that this sudden revelation might be overwhelming. We urge you to remain calm.

An orientation is scheduled to elucidate the details of this integration. Attendance is mandatory for all. The knowledge and understanding imparted during this session will equip you for the new era of existence.

Post-orientation, you have the liberty to continue with your regular lives, should you choose to do so. This is a momentous occasion in your planet's history, and we welcome you to the larger cosmic family.

End of Message.

“This is actually… Thrilling!”