The bar was buzzing with the energy of a weekend in full swing. Dozens of people, all in the mood to unwind and enjoy themselves, filled the space. The floor shook with the force of their dancing and singing, while the air was thick with the scent of spilled drinks and something less pleasant—vomit.
"Ye-ah, Ye-ah, Ye-ah!" they cheered as a couple up on stage performed a duet that, while far from a masterpiece, managed to get everyone moving.
Above them, the disco ball shook and glowed, its lights reflecting off the sweat-drenched bodies below, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the room.
Eric, the bartender, stood behind the counter, his eyes locked on Ginger as she ranted about her boyfriend. She was sitting across from him, her bright green eyes flashing with frustration. She wasn't drinking, and she certainly wasn't in the mood to dance. Her freckled cheeks were puffed out in a sulk as she pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear.
"Just how lazy is he? I asked him to take me shopping for my little brother's 11th birthday tomorrow, and you wouldn't believe it. That wannabe actor refused—right to my face!"
Eric was barely listening. He was too distracted by Ginger's appearance. She was the kind of girl you couldn't help but notice, even if you tried.
"'Just buy him some crayons,' he says. That bastard even asked me to bake the cake myself, saying he'd love to eat my homemade. How cringe is that? It's the 21st century! I had to convince him at the last minute."
Was Ginger really complaining, or was this her way of humble-bragging? Eric wasn't sure. She was blushing too much for him to take her seriously.
"Hello! Eric? Are you even listening?" Ginger waved her hand in front of his face, startling him out of his reverie. He sprang from his chair and reached for one of the bottles.
"Yeah, you want another shot? Small, right?"
Ginger smiled. "No, you idiot. I don't drink. You really weren't listening, were you? And you're supposed to be a bartender?"
"Ah, sorry about that. I'm just a bit out of it tonight."
Eric looked away, trying to hide his awkwardness. He cursed himself for being so distracted while at work. As new patrons arrived, he quickly started pouring drinks, trying not to keep Ginger waiting for too long.
"You're still only 19, right? You can't taste your own drinks, can you?" Ginger asked casually, wondering if he secretly drank.
Glass clinked as liquid poured. Eric glanced sideways and shook his head.
"I can't. Still a few months to go. The pay's good here, though, so I'm grateful they let me work without fussing over my age." After serving the patrons, he sat back down.
"Owen sure is late, isn't he? It's 11 PM already. Not many stores are open this late." He tried to change the topic. Owen was the only common ground between them after all—Ginger's boyfriend and Eric's friend, barely though. They just knew each other.
"Especially kids' stores. I told him that, but His Highness complained about being busy with auditions and all. Can you believe that guy thinks he'll star in a movie? He might have the face, but have you seen him act? He's like Charlie Chaplin."
Her eyes lit up as she recalled the memory, then she covered her face in embarrassment.
"I thought Charlie Chaplin was a great actor. Isn't he?" Eric asked.
"Ney! He is, but you—tsk—you don't get it…" Ginger clicked her tongue, frustrated she couldn't explain.
Just then, a tall, lean figure entered through the door, heading straight for the counter. His medium-length black hair, styled in funky waves, swayed as he walked quickly. His dark brown eyes locked onto Ginger's, who had already noticed him.
"Late. Too late!" She spat, clutching the counter. "Was it traffic? Or did your phone get lost again? What's the excuse this time?"
She stood to confront him, but he kissed her on the cheek, ignoring her anger.
"Don't worry. I knew I was running late, so I picked something up on the way." He pulled back, caressing her hair to get her back in her seat.
"Huh? You picked the gift yourself? Are you insane? He's my brother, not yours. And what about the cake? Don't tell me you forgot. And what did you even buy?"
"Yeah, yeah, babe. Let's calm down for a second." He sat beside her. "I couldn't help it. The auditions ran too long, and my number was second to last. Blame bad luck."
"It's not bad luck if you do this every time. I was foolish to trust you…" Ginger turned away, staring at the disco ball. Her feet tapped in rhythm with the music.
Owen smiled bitterly and looked at Eric. "And how have you been, dude? I hear you're changing apartments?"
Eric didn't meet Owen's gaze. Being honest, he didn't like him because Ginger liked him. That was his only fault; otherwise, he was a chill guy.
With a short nod, Eric said, "I can afford a better one now. Want a drink?"
"No, we're already late…" Ginger cut in.
"A small shot won't hurt, will it? I'll be done in a minute." Owen wrapped his arms around her.
"So, you want to drink and drive? I won't go with you if you do that." She pushed his arm away.
As the couple bickered, Eric couldn't help but suppress the bitterness growing in his heart. Owen and Ginger had been childhood friends, while he was someone they met in college. He wasn't really their friend, just an acquaintance. They kept him around so he wouldn't feel like the loner he was.
He appreciated them but also resented them deep down. His attraction to Ginger only complicated things.
To distract himself, he tried to focus on the music and pretend to be vibing, but then something strange happened.
(Static)
(Silence)
Suddenly, the music stopped. The bar had been alive with its usual hum—glasses clinking, laughter rolling, and music thumping through the air. But then, without warning, the music cut out mid-song, leaving an awkward silence. A few seconds passed before murmurs turned into complaints.
"Hey, what's going on?" someone shouted from the back, while others banged their fists on the bar, demanding answers. Eric, flustered, rushed to the sound system, hands up in apology. "Hold on! I'll fix it!" he called, but the grumbling only grew.
Ginger and Owen paused their argument, watching as Eric struggled with the phone, checking if the Wi-Fi had disconnected.
"Be calm. It's no big deal…" Owen reassured him, glaring at the guy who shouted.
"Yeah, I know, but—"
// Earth #249 Scanning… //
Eric blinked, startled by the strange voice. He looked up. "Did you hear that?"
"Is there some issue with the connection?" Owen heard the voice but couldn't determine where it came from.
"No, the voice didn't come from…"
// Scanning complete: 8,178,201,938 individuals found //
// Eliminating unfit individuals //
"What the hell is this voice? We want music, not ads! Hurry up or I'm gonna—huh, what…" A rowdy guy shouted, but to his surprise, the whole bar was getting filled with sparkling specters of light.
"What the fuck? Why am I glittering?" And it was coming from the people themselves.
"Is this some joke? Turn it off!"
At first, there was confusion. Heads turned toward the disco ball, thinking it was some weird new party trick or prank. Groans and boos filled the air. But before anyone could react further, it happened.
One by one, people began to fade, their bodies dissolving into shimmering specs of light. At first, no one believed what they were seeing. A woman near the dance floor screamed as her arm vanished, flickering into particles like static on a screen. Others cried out in panic as they too disintegrated, leaving nothing but sparkling dust.
"What the hell is this? Someone help me... I... I..."
"Is this that Thanos thing? Right. No way it couldn't be real. I have an important interview tomorrow..."
"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I am dying... DY..."
Chaos erupted. People ran in every direction, knocking over tables, smashing drinks, and pushing one another in frantic attempts to escape. Shouts of fear turned to howls of terror as more patrons vanished into thin air, leaving glowing trails behind.
Most of them were running outside through the door, falling and running into one another. One ran headfirst into the counter, making most of the glasses fall down. Glass pieces scattered all around.
"Everyone, please stay calm!" Eric spoke on autopilot, not understanding a thing that was happening. It was going too fast for him to react.
"Ginger! Come here! Are you okay? We have to get help! Eric, let's—hey, hey, watch out!" Owen pulled Ginger off just in time, but Eric was too out of reach.
CRASH!
BAM!
The screeching of tires cut through the chaos. The front gate of the bar exploded inward as a blood-red Ferrari tore into the building, its engine roaring. Glass and debris flew as the car smashed through tables and chairs, heading straight for the bar counter. Half-disappeared chunks of people flew back meters away due to reduced weight. Screams and cries penetrated the air.
Eric barely had time to react before the Ferrari crashed into the counter with a deafening crunch. Bottles exploded, and glass shattered, raining down on him. Trapped under the wreckage, he struggled to free himself, blood trickling from his forehead, glass cutting into his arms.
The car door flew open, but the driver's seat was empty. The chaos worsened—bodies now completely fading into specs of light, more screams filling the air. The once vibrant bar had turned into a nightmare, a place where reality itself was unraveling.
"No way!" Ginger screamed. "Owen! He's bleeding! Owen... Owen! Why the hell are you disappearing? NOOO! DON'T LEAVE ME!" Ginger looked at her lover in horror. Her heart was ready to burst. Owen was flickering like a cheap neon sign, ready to fade. Ginger grabbed him tightly, not ready to let him leave her alone.
Owen smiled faintly as Ginger hugged him with all her strength, tears trickling through her freckled cheeks.
"It... it'll be fine. Don't cry... I'll..."
"NOOO! OWEN!! NOOOO!!!"
Her deafening scream dispersed the floating specs.
In another moment, Ginger was left alone, hugging the air, tears and confusion streaming from her green eyes. She collapsed on the floor.
Amidst it all, the voice returned, cold and indifferent.
// Proceeding. 10,000,000 individuals remaining. //
// Game begins in 2 hours. //