*Breaking news: The death of tech revolutionary and CEO of Arbitrators Inc. has left the world in a cloud of mystery and confusion....*

The words lingered in the air, even after the TV screen went black. A room, once meant to accommodate fifteen bustling executives, now housed only four. All dressed in black, the ties long abandoned—either out of grief or something heavier.

Raji dropped the remote onto the table with a sigh, slumping into his chair. For a moment, nobody spoke. All eyes were on him—the highest-ranking person left in this sinking ship called Arbitrators Inc. The thought hit him like a punch to the gut: *Is this really the end?*

Across from him, Aiden—Fenris, they called him—shifted in his seat, the scarred veteran of their team. His brawny arms were crossed, and he was staring at the polished conference table as if it would reveal some miracle solution. But even his hulking presence couldn’t change the fact that they had just lost their CEO. Their friend.

“We’re not shutting down, are we?” Raji barely heard the whisper—it was more of a thought someone hadn’t meant to say out loud. But it was there now, filling the room.

A dead silence followed, so thick it felt like a weight pressing down on everyone. Fenris grunted, his eyes flickering to the only other two in the room. Lars, the man with a pair of thick glasses perched on his nose, was preoccupied with his phone, his tattered suit jacket making him look like someone who had just walked out of a war zone. Next to him, the fourth member of their small group—a blank-faced figure—stared at the ceiling, not really present at all.

“What do the shareholders want?” Fenris's voice was low, almost gravelly. His eyes never left Lars, as if expecting him to pull out a miracle from that phone.

After what seemed like forever, Lars sighed and adjusted his glasses. “They want out,” he said flatly. “They’ve severed ties, don’t think we’ll survive without Issa—or the others. But,” his tone lifted slightly, “they're still willing to hear you out. As long as there’s something in it for them.”

The words sat heavy in the air. Raji looked at the others and saw nothing but exhaustion, despair—even relief.

*Was this really it?*

Fenris stood up suddenly, towering over them all. His deep voice cut through the silence like a blade. “It’s decided. From today, we cease operations. We’re entering CVL unless one of you steps up as CEO. It’s our only choice.”

The room went still.

No one said a word. Not a single soul wanted to take up the mantle. Raji’s mind raced—he wasn’t cut out for it. Not after everything they had lost.

Issa’s death still clung to them all like a dark cloud. His once-bloodied car, found just outside their headquarters. A suicide bomb explosion, or so the reports claimed. But none of it made sense. Issa had been the one to lead Arbitrators Inc. to its greatest heights. The Arbitrator console had changed the world, and Mediator’s Story —their flagship MMORPG—had sold over a billion copies in its first year alone. People lived entire lives in that game, chasing dreams the real world had denied them.

And now, it was all gone. Just like Issa.

The founders stood, the weight of their decision palpable. Raji glanced around the room one last time before stepping out. This place—once filled with the chatter of innovation and dreams—felt empty. Hollow. Like their hearts.

As they filed out one by one, the gravity of the situation settled. Raji hesitated in the doorway, glancing over his shoulder one last time at the conference room that had once symbolized everything they had worked for. *This isn’t how it was supposed to end.*

Outside, the corridor was equally desolate. The buzz of the building seemed to have died down along with the company’s spirit. Only a few employees wandered the halls, their faces vacant, their steps dragging. In the far distance, he heard the faint sound of someone packing up their desk—another casualty of the collapse.

Fenris's heavy footsteps echoed behind him as the large man caught up. “This isn’t your fault, you know,” he rumbled, his voice unexpectedly gentle. “None of us saw this coming.”

Raji didn’t answer. It was easier to stay silent, easier to accept the end than to fight it.

They exited the building together, stepping into the gray, overcast afternoon. The chill in the air bit at Raji’s skin, but he barely felt it. Across the street, in a small public park, a gathering of pigeons pecked at crumbs left by some long-gone passerby. Life moved on, even when yours was falling apart.

As they walked toward the car, Lars caught up with them, adjusting his glasses. “I’ve sent the necessary files to the lawyers. It’s all a formality now. We’ll sign off next week.”

“Good,” Fenris muttered, his breath visible in the cold air. “The sooner, the better.”

But even as they spoke of finalizing the company's dissolution, Raji couldn’t shake the sense of unfinished business. Issa’s death. It had been ruled an accident, a tragic, unfortunate event, but something about it still gnawed at him.

The quiet wind rustled the trees, and Raji stopped in his tracks, looking up at the clouded sky. He had spent the last decade of his life building something with his friends—something revolutionary, world-changing. And now it was all falling apart. But why did it still feel like the end wasn’t really the end?

---

Meanwhile, in a Cold, Dark Room

Not far from Arbitrators Inc.’s headquarters, in a dimly lit, forgotten apartment, a man sat hunched over in a worn bathrobe. His eyes, bloodshot and hazy, stared at the ceiling. A half-empty bottle of whiskey dangled from his hand, the liquid sloshing slightly as his grip loosened.

His lips twitched, muttering words no one else could hear. His face, gaunt and pale, split into a slow, eerie smile as his eyes fluttered shut.

A moment later, the bottle slipped from his grasp, hitting the floor with a loud thud. The contents spilled, soaking into the threadbare carpet, but the man didn’t move.

---

In Another Plane

A system notification dinged.

Suddenly, a man jolted forward, his eyes wide with excitement. He looked around, disoriented for a brief second. The world around him was blank—endless white space as far as the eye could see. But his face couldn’t hide his joy.

“I DID IT. I FINALLY DID IT!”

His voice echoed through the empty plane, and for the first time in weeks, he felt truly alive.