— For God's sake, you need to accept this job.
— God? Are you that desperate? God is no longer here.
— Come on, Novah, please, we've pooled money together to persuade you.
— Money? What am I going to do with it here?
— It could be useful in the cities that are still functioning, and you're one of the few who can travel there.
— I don't want to buy anything, I want to stay here in peace.
— You'll never find peace like this, we've all lost, we're all dying, but you're not helping at all. You became like this after you lost...
Novah Almase, who had his back turned to the visitors while looking out of a window, tensed his muscles upon thinking he would hear the name. The air shifted.
The man who came to make the proposal felt intimidated, imagining Novah finally giving up and killing everyone. He feared for his life and that of his son, who was also present. Hopeless, he left.
The son, an adult man and physically capable, trembling for some reason, tried his luck:
— Can't you help us? We're going to die like this. You're one of the few who can neutralize the anomalies.
— It's not my problem, I don't want you here, leave.
Novah's house wasn't really his own; the previous residents had died. And Novah, out of convenience, decided to stay there. It was in the dead city of Paradise 55, which ironically couldn't sustain life anymore as it used to. His current dwelling sat in front of Nexus Zero, a highly developed communication center capable of delivering messages, parcels, and transporting people instantaneously between the other Nexus scattered across the planet.
In his temporary abode, surrounded by darkness:
— The best?
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