The Spectator's Prospective Inspection

The morning had begun like any other, the pages of my routine turning tirelessly. The bookshop awaited me with its silent aisles and shelves whispering forgotten stories. But before plunging into the ocean of words, I was overcome by an unusual impulse to leave the realm of bindings and venture into that of pixels.

An old virtual companion, witness to many digital escapades, was ready to change masters. As a homebody dreamer, I was thinking of swapping this videogame entity for a gateway to unexplored virtual worlds. A virtual reality headset beckoned, a gateway to the extraordinary.

The video game store loomed up before me like a monster with creaking doors. The doorbell, hanging over the entrance, rang as I approached, entering with a worn-out game in my hands. This game, witness to my adventures, would soon take its place in another universe. The salesman, a jaded guardian of the electronic arcade, cast a disinterested glance as I approached the counter.

"I'd like to sell it," I murmured, my throat tight, my fingers brushing the counter as they trembled slightly as I set down my precious object. 

The excitement of exploring new virtual worlds was in my eyes.

The salesman, absorbed in a wireless controller, sighed, weighing the game with an indolent gesture. 

"We've got too many of these already, you know. What do you expect to get out of it?"

I stiffened, a mask of courage on my face. "I... I was thinking something like... a headset... virtual reality?"

A smirk stretched the salesman's lips. "You mean the full experience? Not with this." He pointed to the game with a vague gesture.

"I'm sure it's worth more than that, it's a collectible game!" I exclaimed, valiantly defending the value of my virtual companion.

The salesman eyed me with amusement. "It's worth what it's worth. This is all I can give you. Take it or leave it."

The dream faded away, like a mirage in the desert. I accepted the derisory offer, my heart bruised, my aspirations crushed by the footsteps of impersonal commerce. The transaction concluded with bitter indifference, I was left with a handful of credits and a bitter taste of injustice.

As I left the mouth of the urban dragon, the metro engulfed me in a sarcophagus of metal and noise. With my hands in my pockets and my gaze fixed on the ground, I let myself be carried away by the mechanical hum. The rails clattered in cadence, a familiar melody that resonated in harmony with my disappointment.

Then a murmur of conversation caught my attention. A group of friends, brimming with enthusiasm, were discussing the latest blockbuster to capture the collective imagination. Their words rose like a symphony of anticipation, scenarios and speculation.

The metro wound its way through the subterranean labyrinth, the fleeting glow of the stations mingling with my thoughts. An apprehensive sigh escaped me as I pulled the much-discussed book, 'The Traveler from Gates of Neverland', from my bag. The fresh cover bore witness to its recent arrival on the shelves, few eager hands having yet touched it.

The first lines of the prologue unfolded before my reluctant eyes. "In a world where reality and fairy tales weave themselves into a complex web, one man stands at the threshold of eternal change. His name echoes across dimensions, carried by the unique power to travel through the world's alternatives."

The writer's pen, like a magic wand, unfurled a universe where the boundaries between the concrete and the imaginary blurred. The opening paragraphs told the story of Jon Kayor, whose fate was intrinsically linked to a world where artificial intelligences had supplanted humanity in almost every field. Trapped in Elysium, humans were desperate for a way out, while Jon Kayor, armed with his power to travel between the world's alternatives, strove to restore order to the original timeline.

As the subway snaked under the city, my eyes were lost in the changing glow of the tunnel. Through the window, I found myself imagining a world where fantastic creatures and magical realms coexisted with our gray reality. The reflections in the glass intermingled with the visions in my mind, creating an ephemeral tableau where fiction and reality danced in harmony. A sigh escaped my lips, laden with sweet relief and a hint of bitterness. The sweet sensation of escaping reality for a brief moment, mixed with the sadness of not being able to embrace it fully.

I understood why 'The Traveler from Gates of Neverland' had generated so much excitement. My initial reluctance to venture into these pages had been swept away by the spellbinding plot that was unfolding. I could already see my superior, satisfied, seeing me recommending this masterpiece to our eager customers. 

Suddenly, the soft hum of my telephone interrupted my reading and my mental ramblings. My boss's name flashed on the screen, announcing an unexpected deviation from my planned day. Answering the call, I heard my boss's voice, imbued with an unusual seriousness.

"Hello, Chōkan-san," said the husky voice of my boss, Mr.Minamoto, from across the line. "I've got some issues to deal with internally in the store today. We're going to stay closed. You don't have to come to work."

Surprise painted itself on my face as I replied, "Ah, right. Internal problems? I hope it's nothing serious."

Mr.Minamoto sighed lightly. "Nothing major, I hope, but it's got to be sorted out. Sorry for the inconvenience. Enjoy your day."

"Thank you, Mr.Minamoto," I replied, hanging up with an unexpected hint of excitement. A free day was opening up before me, a rare opportunity in my usual sales routine.

The announcement of my free day breathed new energy into me. Thoughts of video games and virtual adventures surfaced, creating a sense of excitement I hadn't expected to feel. As if fate were conspiring in my favor, the subway continued its journey beneath the city, carrying me towards an unplanned day of relaxation and leisure. Returning home, abandoning the concrete world for the infinite horizons of the virtual universe, was a tempting prospect.

Just as I was about to put my phone away, a notification from Saei popped up on my phone screen. "Available today?" she asked, her message carrying the possibility of spending the day together.

My heart sank. The prospect of sharing my free day with Saei didn't fit into my playful plans. A lie formed on my lips as I replied that I had to work all day at the store. Before my conscience could protest, the lie was gone.

No sooner had I lied than Saei retorted. "That's strange, Yodobashi Camera is closed today. Are you sure you're working, Bun?"

A shiver of guilt ran through me. Caught off guard, I was forced to rectify my lie. "Ah, you're right. Internal problems, we're closed today."

That Saturday, in the unchanging thread of weekends, Saei Kiryū entered my sanctum without detour, as if she herself were writing the script for that day.

"Still immersed in those apocalyptic tales!" she exclaimed with a laugh, her voice sounding like a familiar melody.

Today, an ordinary Saturday, Saei Kiryū was making her weekly visit to my hideaway, which she affectionately called my "den".

"The outside world is too hectic, it keeps me from immersing myself in my reading."

"I really don't understand your love for these fictional things, whether they're books or video games." Saei Kiryū didn't grasp my passion for these imaginary worlds. Yet she remained my only true friend. 

In the scheme of things, I'm Bun Chōkan, the homebody, employed in a famous store specializing in the sale of cultural and electronic products: Yodobashi Camera. I work in the book department and sometimes in the video game department. As an only child, I never met my father.

"Don't you want to go out today? After a week's work, you still manage to stay engrossed in a novel?"

Although solitary by nature, Saei regularly pushed me out of my comfort zone.

"I already have everything I need to last a week in terms of provisions. No need."

The silky-brown-haired girl pestered. "I'm not talking about this kind of outing, I'm talking about an outing to have a little fun."

What Saei didn't understand was that every human being has their own lifestyle. For me, it was the solitary life, whereas she preferred to be surrounded by people she liked. Although I'm not sure she really liked me...

"There's a movie that's getting a lot of buzz right now, do you know it?"

"No."

"It's called 'The Deficient Piece', I think, it's a survival game!"

I looked at her with an unexpressive face...

"Another survival game story..."

She tried to get my attention.

"But no, apparently this one has something extra. At least, according to those who've seen it in previews."

"And you believe their words?"

"If I'm not mistaken, you've never been to the cinema, have you? I want to show you!"

Saei held my arm and begged me to go with her. This was new, so I wasn't too keen.

"All right then, I'll go with you."

She jumped on my neck. "Thanks, Bun, you're the best!"

I remained indifferent to her words. I'd simply agreed to let go of my arm.

"Follow me!"

So I followed Saei Kiryū.

During the ride, I read the synopsis of the film to see what it was about.

"Ryō Kanjō... must get out of a giant escape game... solve riddles..." 

I thought for a few seconds, then thought aloud. 

"It might be watchable for the puzzle part, but otherwise it's nothing original." 

Saei grumbled. "Don't jump to conclusions, you haven't even seen the beginning of the film yet."

We went to buy our tickets and then went to buy popcorn. As we made our way to the theaters, two high school girls who were enjoying themselves pushed them against their will. Politely, the two girls bowed in apology. 

"Excuse our clumsiness madam, we didn't see you," said the older girl in a trembling voice.

Saei gently replied, "Oh no, don't worry, it's no big deal!" 

"I'll ask my parents to buy them back from you." 

Saei stops her from leaving. "Don't bother your parents for so little, it's no big deal." 

After watching the girls walk away, the thud of the popcorn packet falling to the floor interrupted my mind. I stared at the corn kernels scattered on the floor, trying to figure out how this could have happened.

I couldn't help but wonder if there was some hidden meaning behind this innocuous event, or if it was simply chance that had decided to interfere. I continued to stare longingly at the popcorn Saei was picking up. 

"Don't bother helping me," she said ironically. 

"Sorry, I was lost in thought."

I grabbed a tissue to pick up the food that had fallen on the floor and threw it all in the trash. 

"Are you going to buy some more?" I asked.

"I'm not spending my money on it again." 

I then handed him my pack. "Keep them. I don't want you to start your session horrified." 

I'd managed to elicit a smile from her. 

"Thanks, Bun," she said.

Maybe I was fooling myself, but I had the impression that this package hadn't fallen by chance, as if it wanted to warn us of something... 

"You know Bun, you shouldn't try to find a logical explanation for everything around you," Saei said more playfully. 

"What? Was I thinking out loud again?" 

She laughed. "You do that a lot!" 

If we were in a novel, Saei would be a disruptive element for readers. Because of her, quotation marks when I speak will no longer be a reliable source.

I squinted.

"What?" asked Saei, noticing my expression.

"I just wanted to check that you didn't hear me this time," I replied with a slight smile. So the quotation marks would remain a reliable source, at least for the time being.

We had finally arrived at the theater, ready to see the movie.

"Try to have a good time, Bun," Saei said, giving me such a sweet smile that I was once again lost in thought. I used to be someone who always tried to find a reason for what was happening, but unlike in books, often life was like that and there was no need to question it. Maybe that's why I've run away from the outside world to take refuge.

"Well, it's only a film after all! I can watch it with a relaxed mind, the logic will be explained to me later."

The lights went out, plunging the room into darkness as the film was about to begin. During the prologue, my eyes scrutinized every detail of the screen.

My body froze, captivated by protagonist Ryō Kanjō. The film plunged into an apocalyptic universe, and I followed every detail carefully. Ryō, along with the survivors, advanced cautiously into a dark cave. But the water suddenly began to rise, threatening to engulf them all.

The scene became a struggle for survival. The characters climbed the walls, swam against the current, desperately searching for a way out. Finally, they pulled themselves out of the cave, soaking wet and panting.

Then one of the survivors, visibly troubled, murmured:

- I think... I think I saw who did it, but... I can't quite remember.

Then an imposing man emerged from the shadows, his sharp voice breaking the moment of uncertainty:

- Shake it up. Quickly. Recover your memories... Here it comes!

The tension was almost palpable. The camera, adopting the victim's perspective, plunged me directly into the icy intimidation of this confrontation. Every word clicked like a threat, every look pierced the screen. Then, as if the pressure became unbearable, the screen cracked, as if the boundary between fiction and my reality threatened to disappear.

My heart skipped a beat and the plop was so fast that it jumped out of my throat. After a long moment, I put my hand to my chest.

"Don't worry, it's just a special effect!" said Saei.

But a bright, colorful light came out of the screen and illuminated us.

Was it a special effect? Perhaps not...

The bright, colorful light enveloped the room, casting an unearthly glow over the terrified faces of the spectators. The reality of the special effect was proving to be far more than we had expected. Fear gripped the room, as anxious murmurs turned into panicked exclamations.

Audiences scrambled to their feet, looking for a way out of the oppressive darkness of the cinema. The tremors of terror were real, palpable. The film we thought we were watching took a far more sinister turn.

Ryo Kanjo's character, imprisoned in a dome by angry gods, resonated strangely with the situation. The gods were punishing humanity for its inability to live in harmony, condemning them to solve immersive puzzles to gain their freedom. It was as if the boundary between fiction and reality had collapsed, leaving us all trapped in an apocalyptic scenario.

Saei looked at me with worried eyes, and I could feel the tension in her grip on my arm. A shiver ran down my spine, a mixture of surprise and embarrassment. I stiffened slightly under her touch, but didn't pull away. Panic was rising in the room, and even the most skeptical were beginning to doubt the nature of the show.

Yet, strangely, in the midst of this chaos, I found myself curiously captivated by the film. The riddles facing Ryo Kanjo seemed to resonate with the mysteries unfolding in the room. It was as if we were all engaged in a game where the line between fiction and reality becomes blurred.

Suddenly, a dazzling flash engulfed everything, plunging the room into total darkness.

When the light returned, it was no longer the oppressive cinema that surrounded us. Instead, we found ourselves in a completely different setting. The soft sound of wind and the murmur of plants filled the air.

Confusion flashed across the faces of the spectators, each trying to make sense of what had just happened. The rows of seats had been replaced by winding paths among exotic plants and majestic trees, and through the translucent glass, the sky could be seen scrolling by at a high altitude.

I rubbed my eyes, desperately trying to disentangle dream from reality. Next to me, Saei seemed equally perplexed, casting uncertain glances around her.

"What's going on?" she whispered, but I had no more answers than she did. Confused murmurs spread through the floating botanical garden.

Some people were beginning to wonder if we'd traveled into the future. The structure we were in resembled the W350 project, the imposing wooden tower that Japan planned to complete in 2041. Its majestic architecture, made of slender beams and vegetated walls, seemed almost unreal. Despite the general confusion, an unexpected enthusiasm could be heard among a few voices marveling at the possibility of contemplating such a masterpiece.

"Can you believe it?" exclaimed one man, his eyes shining. "If this really is 2041, we're in the future! The future, dammit! And that tower... It's the W350 project, I'm sure of it! I read an article about it, they said it would be the tallest wooden building in Japan. Here we are!"

"It's fascinating, isn't it?" added a woman, looking around with a smile of wonder. "You can see what humanity can achieve when it focuses on progress. These walls, this symbiosis of wood and technology... What a world awaits us in this future!"

Yet this wonderment rang false within me. These same people, ready to praise the beauty of this construction, seemed oblivious to the stinging irony of the situation. Man, capable of building wonders like this, always found an excuse to wreak destruction. Every architectural feat, every innovation, seemed inevitably doomed to be ravaged by conflict, war or simple negligence. This place, magnificent as it was, was no exception to this hypocritical cycle: a celebration of human greatness, soon to be obliterated by its own folly.

But their good mood was quickly interrupted by a man with a trembling voice. "Look... over there!" he said, pointing to a window at the end of a path lined with exotic plants.

I followed his gesture, as did the others, and what I saw made my blood run cold. A hologram was floating on the glass, projected as if by magic. It represented a timer, glowing with a cold, merciless light, set to 20 minutes.

Just above it, a red message pulsated.

[Time remaining before fall:

 00:20:00 ]

The reaction came late, as if our mind refused to accept what our eyes were seeing. Perhaps deep down, we still hoped it was an illusion or a mistake. But this fragile hope was shattered by the trembling voice of the man who had first noticed the hologram.

"The garden..." he whispered, breaking the silence like a blade. "The garden is about to fall... from the sky."

A wave of terror swept through the garden. Frightened eyes met, and a palpable anguish seized us. The thrill of the unknown intensified, suggesting that our adventure was just beginning.