The Final Audit

An Ordinary Life

Erik's days were filled with the monotony of numbers, charts, and cold, hard, colorless decisions. As an Auditor, he was tasked with determining who would live and who would die. Society had long since accepted this brutal occupation as a necessary consequence of the overpopulated, resource-starved world they inhabited.

Each morning, Erik donned his immaculate, gray suit, his perfectly polished shoes reflecting the cold fluorescent lights of his apartment. It was a uniform that marked him as one of the chosen, those tasked with maintaining the delicate balance of humanity's survival. He stared at his own reflection, taking a deep breath as he prepared for another day of judgment.

Erik spent his days in a small, windowless room, adorned only with a table, two chairs, and a terminal to access the necessary information. People filed in and out, their faces blurring together as he assessed their value to society. In five minutes, he would determine their fates, whi is worthy and who is not, who has value and who does not, who lives and who dies, the cold efficiency of his work etching itself into his soul.

He never allowed himself to get too close to anyone. The emotional toll of his job demanded a certain detachment, and he had long ago accepted that the life of an Auditor was a lonely one.

His evenings were as gray as his days, the fading sun casting shadows across the high-rise buildings of the sprawling city. He found solace in the anonymity of the crowded streets, where he could lose himself in the sea of faces that passed him by, unburdened by the knowledge of their stories and the weight of their lives.