The Admin

The End

- Accessing Memory File 2029995151 -

I'm falling from a balcony, looks... space-ey... ish?

My legs hurt, glass cuts I can see them. Bleeding, no armour, curious.

My armour should've been on, what happened?

My hat! a Finnish winter war that I got from an old pal o' mine back in 1939.

Now I remember, I'm dying ha!

Hi, I'm John.

During this moment of regaining consciousness, I need to rethink my whole life story in the cringiest most cliche way possible.

I'm Chilean, part of that unknown world that everyone thought was a forest surrounded by trees and native huts.

At the age of 18, there was a massacre in my dimension. 

One afternoon, an old crazy man decided it'd be fun to set up explosions to distract authorities and paramedics while he took shots at people with a sniping rifle. That day, I was one of the targets, and so was a big man with a shining cube in his palm.

I was by a sidewalk while across the street in a three-way intersection, crouched beside a red car covered in dust from the flames of a lorry right in front of it, the wind made it hard to spot, but the man had just begun making a barrier of Necrofyber, an artificial substance that was created by... uh, man spoilers are hard to avoid.

So... barrier, the guy was making this thing. Impressive of course but I prefer looking for a sharpshooter attempting to take my life than that, thanks.

Saw a reflexion, Red, bright, a laser. My gun at home had one.

The faggot was in a building close by, but I was rapidly distracted by the fact that the magic had a moving red spot attempting to hold still (damn that old fuck definitely was shaking now that I think about it).

The story flows like a heroic action scene, I jump over the car, sprinted towards the fellow and attempted to push him. Which failed because I'm sorta weak.

A good moment I guess, but the bullet stung a lot.

(...)

So fast forward two whole years.

Done with high school, onto college.

Decide to take an offer for a tour in Manhattan, stay next to the United Nations HQ.

Things seemed nice, for real, I felt like an American for a short while, well, until I realized my English was sorta shit.

Decide to call GF the morning after arrival. Voicemail received me instead.

-"Hi, honey! I'm headed to the WTC today to talk business with businessy people, love you!"

Lauren was pissed at me when she realized that I was alive, having not called the whole afternoon.

Thing is, and you'll understand soon enough, that I was gone for three years.

And well, as any boyfriend can relate, we have to nod and say: "yes honey I'm sorry it'll never happen again I swear".