---

The pulsating beat of the music filled the air, reverberating through the room as the afterparty for Project Everwing came to a close. The atmosphere was electric, with neon lights casting vibrant hues across the polished floors. Laughter and chatter intermingled, creating a symphony of celebration. However, amidst the jubilation, a sense of unease lingered in the air.

"I still can't believe it," I murmured to Mark and Jenny as we made our way out of the bustling party. We were heading back to Everwing headquarters, where they had hinted at a surprise for me. Over the past week, I had noticed them meeting more frequently, their conversations laden with secrecy. My curiosity was piqued as I traversed the familiar corridors where we had once toiled to bring Everwing to life. The project had already begun to make waves, its name plastered across headlines wherever we went.

"J...a...k...e... Jake!" Mark's voice jolted me from my reverie.

"Sorry, I was just thinking about the gift you mentioned," I replied, my mind racing with anticipation. "Before you reveal it, I have something for you." With that, I detoured to my office, retrieving the alternate versions of Everwing I had been diligently working on, along with a portrait of the three of us from the project's inception.

As I made my way back to join Mark and Jenny, the world seemed to blur for a moment. Suddenly, a deafening noise pierced the air—Bang Bang Boom. I was hurled across the room, crashing into various equipment and experiments before finally coming to a stop against the wall.

Pain coursed through my body, intense and all-encompassing. Every movement sent waves of agony rippling through me, and I struggled to make sense of what had just happened. Through the haze of pain, I heard a voice, laced with annoyance, commanding me to be silent.

I looked up, my vision clearing to reveal a familiar sight—the Everwing suit, standing before me in all its formidable glory. Clad in blue plated armor with silver accents, the suit emanated power, its core pulsating with a deep blue glow and the Everwing logo emblazoned proudly in the center. How was this possible? The Everwing suit was meant to be accessible only to me, Jenny, and—

"You should have realized by now, Jake," the voice, unmistakably Mark's, cut through the chaos. "Your vision for Everwing was far too simplistic. Your desire to make it accessible to everyone—to make the world a better place—it's naive, and frankly, it disgusts me."

I attempted to speak, but only blood gurgled from my lips. Shock set in as I looked down, horrified by the sight before me. My lower body was mangled, my legs twisted at unnatural angles, and my organs spilling out from a deep gash. The pain was excruciating, yet somehow, I clung to consciousness, fueled by a mixture of adrenaline and sheer willpower.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"You must be wondering why I did this," Mark continued, a cruel smirk playing on his lips. "It's quite simple, really. Your idealism has no place in our world. Consider this a lesson, albeit a harsh one. I hope you make better choices in your next life."

With those final words, he plunged a blade into my heart, and as darkness enveloped me, I realized that betrayal had a name, and it was Mark.

---

The funeral was held on a serene, sunny day, a stark contrast to the somber mood that enveloped the gathering. Friends, family, and colleagues gathered around the grave, their faces etched with grief as they mourned the passing of Jake. Mark and Jenny stood at the front, solemn and composed, yet their eyes cold as ice

Mark stepped forward, his voice steady but filled with emotion. "We are gathered here today to honor the life of Jake, a great friend, and visionary." His words were met with a solemn silence, the only sound the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze.

"Jake was more than a colleague; he was a brother. His passion, his dedication to Project Everwing, inspired us all. His loss leaves a void that can never be filled," Mark continued, his voice breaking slightly.

As Mark spoke, memories of Jake flashed through his mind—the late-night brainstorming sessions, the moments of triumph and failure, the bond they had shared. Tears welled up in Mark's eyes, and he paused, struggling to regain his composure.

"But Jake's legacy will live on. His vision, his dream of a better world through Everwing, will continue to inspire us. We will carry his passion forward, ensuring that his work was not in vain," Mark said, his voice firm with resolve.

As Mark stepped back, Jenny stepped forward, her voice soft but filled with emotion. "Jake, you were not just a colleague; you were my friend, my confidant. Your loss is a pain that cuts deep, but I know that you would want us to be strong, to continue the work we started together."

The funeral ended with a moment of silence, the only sound the gentle weeping of those gathered. As they dispersed, Mark and Jenny remained behind, standing by Jake's grave with various emotional and then they left never to return again

---

I awoke, still cursing Mark for his betrayal, though the anger felt strangely muted, almost distant. I tried to muster up more rage, but it was like trying to grasp at smoke—it slipped through my fingers, elusive and intangible.

With a sigh, I decided to distract myself. I started counting, a task that seemed simple enough at first. I counted to a hundred, then a thousand, then ten thousand. I kept going, pushing myself to count higher and higher, until I reached a billion. It took me hours, maybe even days—I couldn't be sure—but it gave me something to focus on, a goal to strive for in this endless expanse of time.

When I finally reached a billion, I felt a sense of accomplishment, albeit a hollow one. I realized then that time had lost all meaning here. Days blurred into nights, and I could no longer distinguish between them. I slept, or at least I think I did, and when I awoke, it felt like only moments had passed.

That's when I met Jerry, the glowing ball of light that became my silent companion. I found myself talking to Jerry, telling him my life story, recounting every detail as if he could understand me. It was a strange comfort, having someone—or something—to talk to, even if Jerry couldn't respond.

Jerry was green, about the size of a soccer ball, which seemed enormous compared to the smaller lights around me. I, on the other hand, was three times bigger than Jerry, glowing red with shades of black—an ominous sight, to be sure.

Despite the monotony of my days, I found ways to occupy myself. I explored the boundaries of this strange place, pushing against invisible walls that seemed to stretch on forever. I tried to change my color, to no avail, and I experimented with different ways of interacting with Jerry and the other lights around me.

In the end, though, it all felt futile. Time stretched out before me, endless and unfathomable, and I was left to wander this strange existence with nothing but my thoughts and the glowing ball of light that had become my only companion.