A Year of Quiet Despair
One year has passed since the world received its death sentence. It has been confirmed that a colossal celestial body, named 'Erebus' with a diameter of 7,000 km, is on an irreversible collision course. For the first two months, humanity was engulfed in unprecedented chaos. Initial disbelief and denial quickly escalated into riots, looting, and the proliferation of cults preaching the end times, shaking the very foundations of society. Governments struggled to maintain control, but their military interventions proved futile against a populace convinced of its own demise.
However, the storm of chaos subsided faster than expected. Not because new hope emerged, but because a collective, heavy resignation settled over society. In what sociologists termed 'The Great Resignation,' humanity, albeit hollowly, returned to its daily routines. Markets reopened, and public facilities were restored, but the vibrancy of life was absent from the streets. Its place was filled by a quiet, resolute determination to spend the final days with dignity.
The Final Act: The City's Last Performance
As the final week of fate dawned, a peculiar asceticism enveloped the city. The lights of Broadway dimmed, but they still shone, unextinguished. The theaters continued their performances, catering to audiences yearning for one last escape from reality. Among them was 'Jack,' a veteran stage actor. He was famously known for quoting Spinoza upon first hearing the news of the apocalypse, saying that even if the world were to end tomorrow, he would plant an apple tree. For Jack, the stage was his orchard. Instead of screaming into the approaching abyss, he chose to continue pursuing the passion that had sustained his life until the very end. Jack and others sought to imbue their lives with personal meaning by fulfilling their own final promises and vows, rather than succumbing to the immense darkness. This is a story of small bucket list items being checked off against the grand, indifferent backdrop of a cosmic end.