“How long has it been since you had a haircut?” the barber asks, a wide smile spread across his face and scissors poised to begin what would be a brutal battle with hair long overdue for a trim.

“Months,” Wyatt replies, “I don’t normally do anything special with it, so I’ll leave everything up to you.”

The barber let out a chortle before continuing, “Well, I guess I’ll have a little fun with it. My name’s Brad, by the way.”

“I’m Wyatt,” answered the young man. Wyatt had just completed graduate school and was on his way home to see his family for the first time in months. He had stopped by a small gas station on the highway for a short break and to refuel when he saw the barber in the back of the store. Realizing how long it had been since he had a haircut, Wyatt had decided it was time to look like an actual human.

Wyatt had only just met the barber minutes before, but he seemed like a rather happy individual, the kind that would laugh at any joke he heard, making everyone around him feel like they were the life of the party. He was a larger man, almost intimidatingly so, but somehow his personality seemed to dwarf his stature.

Wyatt, on the other hand, was almost the opposite. His skin was pale, owing both to his heritage and tendency to forget there was a world outside his apartment. He had plenty of friends and usually got along well with most people he talked to, but he never went out of his way to meet anyone.

Brad looked at the mop of brown hair before him pensively, almost like a sculptor trying to find the art within the stone. Then, his face lit up, and he began his craft.

“I think I see how you usually have it,” the man beamed, scissors already hard at work. Wyatt couldn’t help but smile at how proud the man seemed of himself, regardless of how simple his hairstyle tended to be.

The cut took longer than most Wyatt had experienced, but he assumed the man worked for quality over quantity; trying to get more tips from his customers since so few seemed to come by this out of the way shop. He let the big guy steer the conversation, as that seemed to be something he enjoyed. He told the young man all about his family, both his wife and teenage daughter in a constant battle over who was the most beautiful woman in the world.

Wyatt chimed in here and there, feigning interest in this stranger’s life, but still being polite. When the cut was over, he paid the man, tipping generously for the conversation – at least, as generously as a recent college graduate could – before walking out of the small shop and into the gas station proper.

The place was small, having the usual snacks and coffee most would expect at a place like this. Wyatt grabbed what he wanted and headed for the register, standing behind an older woman paying for her gas.

Wyatt waited patiently for the old woman to count out exact change. He wasn’t in a rush; his home wasn’t going anywhere. In fact, this was the first time in a long time that he didn’t have any time constraints or deadlines from homework and assignment due dates. He was finally able to breathe.

He had just graduated with a master’s degree in physics. Wyatt, now 25 years old after seven consecutive years of college, had thus far spent his entire adult life buried in papers and books, struggling day and night to survive the academic life he had chosen for himself.

Most people he talked to about college had little faith that he would earn his undergraduate degree, much less attend and eventually complete grad school. He had always been a mediocre student before college, doing the minimum required to pass. It had been a tough ride for Wyatt, as he often had to spend longer on an assignment or project than most of his peers in order to understand certain topics.

However, Wyatt had refused to give up. He wanted his degree, and he would not rest until he got it. His single-minded focus and iron will had been his saving grace and usually the difference between passing and failing. Eventually, he outpaced his classmates, even those who were naturally gifted in the field, and walking across the stage to receive his master’s degree the day prior had been the proudest moment of his life.

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“Excuse me, sir,” a voice broke the young man from his thoughts. Wyatt turned to look at a distraught woman in her mid-thirties, Wyatt assumed, who was trying desperately to hold onto a small child, a girl who obviously was not happy about something.

“Do you mind if we cut in front of you?” the woman asked with the most desperate look on her face he had ever seen.

“Not at all,” Wyatt chuckled, backing up and motioning for her to step in front of him, “I’m in no hurry.”

“Don’t have kids then,” she responded with a tired smile, “you’ll never stop being in a hurry.”

Wyatt just smiled back at her. He looked around as the woman got to the register and began talking to the cashier. Aside from them and the cashier, there was only one other person in the store: a lanky teen with red hair. He seemed like a typical nerd, wearing a t-shirt with the logo for an online role-playing game Wyatt himself used to play before long hours of studying took that from him.

Maybe I’ll use my new freedom to get back into that game, Wyatt thought to himself. He smiled and nodded at the kid, who had noticed him staring, before turning his attention back to the cashier.

“Next,” the man called out unnecessarily as the mother walked out the door, daughter in tow.

Wyatt walked up to the counter and handed the man his purchases and some cash. “The rest on pump two, please,” he said.

“Anything else?” responded the cashier. He looked to be in his late twenties, with dark brown hair that had begun to show signs of receding. His expression was blank, almost bored.

“No, thank you. Have a good day.” Wyatt walked out the door and headed to his car. On the way, he saw the mother putting her daughter in a van, while a man – her partner, obviously – was fastening in a younger child on the other side of her.

Wyatt grabbed the handle to the pump and placed it in his car. As he stood there holding the handle, he saw a girl at the next pump over. She had to be about his age, maybe a little younger, with light blonde hair and a smile that fit so perfectly on her face Wyatt was sure she was a picture. She turned, noticing him staring, and he smiled at her. Her smile, it seemed, was not permanent, as she immediately scowled at him and looked away. Wyatt did the same, but his smile remained. He was in too good a mood to care.

He had never needed others to tell him he was attractive, anyway. He knew he wasn’t going to win any popularity contests on looks alone, but he had never been disappointed when he looked in the mirror. He did so now, turning his head to look in the side mirror of his car. His deep blue eyes were always the first thing people noticed about him, so he had been told, and always stood out when he wore a matching blue shirt. His light brown hair, now freshly cut, made the picture look even better than usual.

All in all, not bad, he thought to himself, as he put the girl out of his mind.

[Dong]

A loud noise, deep and reverberating like a church bell chiming the hour, rang in Wyatt’s ears, startling him. He looked around, unsure of whether he had actually heard it. He looked up and made eye contact with the girl, who looked back at him, confusion clear on her face.

[Dong]

He knew he heard it that time, but he couldn’t tell what direction it came from. He knew he wasn’t going crazy, however, as others at the station now seemed to be looking around in confusion.

[Dong]

The chime did not come from any specific direction but seemed to Wyatt to be in his head. In everyone’s heads. They began talking to those near them, asking complete strangers if they knew what was happening, where that noise could be coming from.

“Where is that coming from?” the girl asked, looking all around her for anything that could explain the sound.

Before Wyatt could respond to her, something happened.

World integration Commencing…

Text appeared in Wyatt’s vision. Or rather, a prompt, like he was looking at a computer monitor. Looking past the prompt, he could tell he was not the only one to see it. He could see the looks on the faces of others that appeared to be reading something right in front of them. Panic, which before had obviously begun to seep into their minds, now flooded their thoughts. The teenager was running to his car, only to run into the door as his vision was obstructed. The girl at the pump across from him got into the driver seat of her car and peeled out of the gas station, ripping the hose and causing gas to spray everywhere.

Wyatt, keeping his calm, decided that that had not been in good taste. He released the trigger on his own pump and placed the nozzle back where it belonged. He pulled out his keys and pressed the button to lock his car. Then, as all humans have done since the invention of the remote locking mechanism, he pressed it a second time.

The satisfying second honk was the last thing he heard before everything faded to darkness.