CHAPTER 7 – Voices That Aren't There
Noir's eyes fell on the title of Gabriel's comic.
"NOIR."
The name alone sent a jolt through his mind. Gabriel's comic featured a protagonist named Noir—the same as him. The revelation tore through his consciousness, a sudden pain exploding in his chest. His heartbeat raced uncontrollably, pounding against his ribs as if trying to break free.
"No… no… no…" he whimpered, gripping his head.
A strange, deafening noise erupted in his ears. It was as if the voices of the entire world had entered his mind all at once. Every conversation, every whisper, every cry of humanity merged into a deafening chaos that only he could hear. He realized it wasn't coming from any external device—there were no headphones, no speakers. This sound existed solely in his mind. Yet it felt so real, so tangible, that Noir could barely distinguish hallucination from reality.
He collapsed onto the floor, pressing his hands against his ears in a desperate attempt to block out the unbearable noise. The pressure caused his ears to bleed, small trickles of crimson running down his neck. At the same time, blurry, fragmented visions flickered in the corners of his sight. His head spun uncontrollably.
"I… I… aahhh! I can't take it anymore! Help! HELP ME!" Noir screamed, tears streaming down his face.
"I don't want to die! Please… get me out of here! I can't take it anymore! I'm begging you! Please understand… HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! This is hell!"
Then, suddenly, a calm, soft voice cut through the storm of sound.
"Look here, Noir."
In an instant, the cacophony vanished. Silence. Absolute silence.
Noir slowly lifted his head and saw her—Rara. She was sitting atop Gabriel's bed, her gaze steady and serene.
"Rara… you're here?" he whispered, hope mingling with despair.
"Yes," she replied softly. "I'm here."
"Please… help me! I want out, Rara! Take me out of here, please!"
Noir reached for her, desperate, trembling.
"Noir… I can never take you out of here," she said, shaking her head. "It's not possible. You have to leave this place yourself."
"No! I'll do anything! I'll follow you! Just get me out!" His voice cracked with desperation.
Rara gently slid off the bed and embraced him.
"No matter what I do, Noir… I cannot save you. You must trust me."
"Why… why not?" he asked, voice barely audible.
"Because… everything you're experiencing… it's all your imagination."
Noir froze. A heavy stillness settled over him. Blinking, he saw that Rara had vanished—she had never been physically there. She was a figment of his mind, a comforting illusion created to calm him.
He screamed her name, again and again:
"RARA! RAAA!"
No answer. Only silence.
Noir understood: this was his battle alone. His reality, fragmented and twisted, belonged only to him. Despite the chaos, the questions, and the pain swirling in his mind, he forced himself to calm down. Blood still trickled from his ears, drop by drop, marking the silent aftermath of his hallucination.
Shivering, he rose and walked out of Gabriel's room. The lifeless bodies lay scattered, but he moved forward, determined.
Then, a voice came from behind.
"No… no… I won't let you look back. It's all your imagination."
Another voice, calling his name:
**"Noir."**
Noir tried to ignore it, focusing on moving forward, but the sound came again, louder this time:
**"NOIR!"**
The voice was terrifying, more threatening than anything he had ever heard. He couldn't ignore it. He turned, but saw nothing.
"It's all… my imagination," he whispered to himself.
Suddenly, a dark entity appeared in front of him. Its figure resembled a human, but its presence was suffocating. Noir froze in terror.
"This isn't your place," it said, its voice deep and commanding. "Go back to where you belong. Go back to your own place. Return to your own reality."
Darkness consumed everything around him, and once again—
A black void.
When Noir opened his eyes, he was lying in his own bed. His room. His home.
"Was that real… or another simulation?" he muttered, disoriented.
He glanced outside. Night had fallen. But why was it so dark? A deep chill filled the air. His room's AI assistant, Jecy, should have been working—locking doors, controlling lights, playing music—but now, nothing responded.
"Jecy… turn on the heater."
Silence.
"Jecy? What's wrong?"
Noir realized there was no electricity. Even his phone had no charge. The freezer reeked, the food inside rotting. Ice had formed inside the glasses. Cold bit through his clothes as he walked barefoot across the floor.
"This… can't be real," he whispered.
Stepping outside, Noir saw the streets deserted. No humans. The moon was nowhere to be seen. The air was frozen, almost suffocating.
He called out, desperate:
"Hello?! Is anyone there? Please… someone answer me!"
No reply. Only the eerie silence of frozen streets.
A cat lay nearby. Relief. At least something was alive.
But as he approached, he realized—it wasn't asleep. It was frozen solid, its fur stiff and sharp in the cold. Everything around him had been encased in ice. The streets were empty because the world itself had frozen.
A faint lamp post flickered nearby but barely gave any light. Noir realized then—the Earth was drifting beyond the solar system.
He exhaled slowly, staring at the black expanse of space above, and laughed—a wild, broken laughter. Madness edged his mind.
The Earth had begun to drift into deep space. Noir was utterly alone. Alive. Trapped.
The lamp post went out. Darkness swallowed him.
"Even the last light is gone… why am I still alive? Why wasn't I taken?" he muttered, sinking to the ground next to the frozen cat.
"Listen, pussycat," he whispered to the lifeless creature. "I've lived… I've experienced things no one can understand. I was happy… but now… everything's chaos. The Earth drifting out of the solar system, encounters with unknown beings, thrown into simulations, memories twisted—I don't understand any of it. Do I even exist? Do I? What do you think, pussycat?"
He paused. The cat, frozen in ice, could not answer.
"I guess I'll just wait for death…"
He looked up at the stars, waiting, eyes closed, surrendering.
Then a faint light appeared before him. He felt it, warm and real. Opening his eyes, he stared at the sky.
A small, flickering glow, moving against the darkness.
"Wait… is that the Sun?"
Machines around him—solar panels, lights, devices—started operating on their own, powered by this faint light.
Noir focused on the glow, staring intently.
It wasn't the Sun.
It was something else.
Something enormous.
A black hole.
To be continued...