The 5 Minute Man

Cold Clock

Tick...

Time waits for no one.

Tock...

Seconds fly past

Tick...

Impossible to grasp

Tock...

Or is it?

...

Argo was a man of few dreams. Unlike his friends, he had no desire whatsoever to dream of what he wanted. Feeling dejected over particularly nothing, he proceeded to rise out of what would otherwise be a very comfortable bed. It has been like this for a few years. Everyday he would wake up facing his window.

His window gave a view of the large bustling city grounds beneath his condo. You could see the birds flying by, and the and the people underneath minding their own business. To anyone but Argo, this life was the definition of peaceful. But to a man like him, nothing was special. Getting a decent job at 15 wasn't helping either.

He knew everything would be the same . With all this in mind he proceeded downstairs . Argo was by no means stupid. He was just the kind of person who never took the time appreciate the splendor of anything. "my time", he thought, " is better used for work and maybe the occasional insult".

Living on a very high floor gave Argo a very splendid view. A branch from a nearby tree poked out from the side of his window, and the light entered gracefully through his window, showering his room with a beautiful mix of light. Essentially, just imagine a hotel room rendered with 60 frames per second and graphics set to Ultimate Mega High Ultra.

His breakfast consisted of aromatic coffee, and some fried eggs, their whites glistening in the light. This breakfast would have made anyone happy. Well, anyone but Argo anyway.

Opening his door, he looked back at his unit. Nothing much noteworthy, but his eyes somehow landed on an old rusty clock. He didn't know why he had it. Shrugging it off, he closed the door behind him, and stepped into the lift. Down he went, into the lobby. The sliding glass doors gave what little future it could to the otherwise peaceful building. Stepping out, he ventured into the great, bustling city.

The business of other people was made even more apparent that it was when Argo was inside the lobby. He could see the two women sitting on stools of the nearby coffee shop, chatting away to each other. He could see the elderly man walking his dog. The dog gave Argo a simple bark, and carried on its way. It was a bark the dog gave to beings that he deemed insignificant. Argo knew this, and ignored it like he did everything else.

Argo stepped into the train station, barely regardig the scenic view it gave to everyone. This was why most people thought of Argo as a person who barely cared. He didn't, true enough. The only moments he cared about were the ones he deemed important. Those moments, unfortunately, were rarely found.

The cold breeze of the train's AC swept over Argo, refreshing him. He did not show it though. That was his key ability. He was adept at hiding his true feelings. Maybe it was his transition into his 16th year of existence, maybe it was his work situation, but no one could find out the answer to his perpetual uncaring towards the world. He decided to look out the window, even though he wouldn't appreciate anything he saw through it anyway.

...

Argo didn't manage to remember most of what happened next. He felt the train shaking, the lights flickering. The passengers seemed to fade away, and the windows where pitch black. Argo felt dizzy, and promptly blacked out, in his seat.

For the first time...

Argo had a dream

He dreamt about all that he had. He dreamt about his dog, then his cat, and then soon the rest of his possesions, all individually set on museum pillars. He spent some time wandering in his dream exhibit, admiring things he didn't know he had. And for the first time of many years, Argo felt serene. But when his eyes fell upon a familiar rusty clock, he felt a shiver run up his spine. The clock was set on a pedestal that was rusting, and many unidentifiable critters crawled over it. A spider with closed eyes noticed the horrified man, and opened its own eyes to reveal 8 hollow eye sockets. To Argo's horror he could see that the spider's eyes resembled clocks, their arms pointing to pure white lines around the edge. He had always been silently afraid of spiders, and it was a fear he had never overcome.

And everything fell silent.

Except the rusty clock.

He could hear the clock ticking. But it ticked with a malevolent intent. And Argo could feel it. And he was scared.

And the nightmare ended.

...

"Hey! You're awake!". Argo could hear a cheerful voice beside him. Rubbing his eyes, he turned to face the person who was talking to him, and was surprised to see that it was a girl. She looked younger than him, most likely not older than 14, with silver hair that flowed down her shoulders. She wore a hair pin that resembled a clock's arm. And Argo felt safe, like this girl was some kind of sanctuary. She wore a cap with the words "Time" inscribed on it.

Looking out the window, Argo could see that it was still pure black. But closer inspection revealed that it was no longer empty, but now it was filled with millions of clocks, shining in the void.

Argo faced the girl again, in awe of everything. This carried on for a few more seconds, to which Argo decided to break the silence.

"So, uhhh... was I just isekai'd?"

"What's an "Isekai"?"

"It's an anime thing where people get sent to another world."

"You're surprisingly calm at the prospect, aren't you?"

"Maybe."

Sighing, the girl put her hands to her sides, and opened her mouth to say something, but the train's speakers interrupted her.

"You have arrived at Dimension 66-UL. Please disembark at this point."

"Well, I guess I'll have to fill you in after this. Bye-bye."

Before Argo could say anything else, his surroundings started to fade, and in its place the verdant foliage of a sprawling jungle had replaced the sleek interior of the train.

"Huh, so I guess I was isekai'd?". Argo was surprised that his shirt now had a new name tag affixed to it, which read:

"Passenger 77"

"Welp. I might as well get used to my new life.". And with that, Argo set out to find civilization, if there was any, planning to advance it or make his own if they weren't any.

Little did he know that he wasn't staying long.