A Quiet Evening
The house was too big for one person. Every creak of the wooden floor, every tick of the wall clock in the living room, felt louder than it should have been. The weight of the empty rooms pressed against the walls, and yet, it was a comforting kind of quiet—one the protagonist had grown used to.
A seventeen years old student alone in his room. Sitting cross-legged on a worn-out gaming chair, the lone figure tapped furiously at the keyboard, fingers gliding with precision. The beats of an electronic rhythm game filled the space, each note hitting like a pulse in an otherwise lifeless house.
The game’s HUD flashed vibrant colors as another combo was nailed. “Perfect!” the mechanical voice chirped. But even as the numbers climbed higher, a quiet sigh escaped his lips.
He adjust his UV light protection glasses and leaned back, staring at the ceiling. The rhythmic tapping of keys had been replaced by the faint hum of the CPU fan. “Another Friday,” he muttered, the sound vanishing into the void of the house. He puts his hand on his chin and ponder. " Hmm, I suppose the homework is somewhat a lot but I suppose I can finish it all at Sunday night. " he said casually trying to be oblivious to his solitude but it can't last very long.
A sigh slipped through his mouth and his thoughts wondered to his situation.
" Man… in a chaotic and exciting world, it's a wonder that someone like me is stuck in the room alone with only some games to accompany. Quite the misfortune I guess… " he talked to himself as his finger scroll on his mouse to search for another song to play.
The indicator on his monitor clicked into a song. As the song begins to load he stretched his hand and prepare for it. When the song begins, his fingers instinctively and rhythmically tap on the keyboard. As much as he seemed invested his mind in the game, his eyes weren't really paying a lot of attention—his thoughts were too. " I wonder the friend in my childhood still remember me. Such a we pain that I have to move because of that stupid civil war. " he said with depressed tone.
After a perfect score, he still felt empty with the achievement. He takes off his gaming glasses and put them aside on the table. He leaned back in his chair, the room eerily silent save for the rhythmic ticking of the clock. With a heavy sigh, he dragged his hand up his face, the roughness of his palm pressing against his skin as if trying to ground himself. His fingers grazed his forehead, then slid down, smudging over his nose and lips in one long, exasperated motion. It wasn’t just exhaustion; it was the weight of his thoughts clawing at him, a mix of boredom and distress that he couldn't seem to shake. The pressure of his hand lingered for a moment before he let it fall away, his head tilting back as he stared blankly at the ceiling.
After some moment of silence, " Maybe I'm just hungry. That might explain why I'm feeling moody. " he push himself off from the chair and make his way downstairs to get something to eat. The house was still, the faint hum of the refrigerator filling the silence as the MC wandered into the kitchen. His footsteps echoed faintly against the tiled floor, a reminder of how empty the place was. He opened the fridge, the cold light spilling out, revealing little more than a few bottles of water and a stack of instant noodle cups.
"Guess it's you again," he muttered to himself, pulling one out.
He filled the kettle, the sound of rushing water briefly breaking the monotony before the click of the stove returned the silence. He leaned against the counter, staring blankly at the kitchen clock as the water began to boil, its soft hiss blending into the background.
After pouring the hot water into the cup, he stirred mechanically, letting the steam rise and fill the air with a salty, synthetic aroma. With the cup in one hand and his phone in the other, he trudged to the dining table, sitting in the same chair he always did, the same spot he’d sat in for years.
He scrolled aimlessly through his phone, the bright screen illuminating his face. Nothing held his attention for long—posts, videos, and memes flicked by in a blur. The noodles were hot, but he ate them without care, slurping softly in the quiet room.
Loneliness pressed against the walls, thick and suffocating, yet he hardly noticed anymore. It wasn’t sadness, not really. Just… nothing. A hollow kind of existence he’d grown used to.
Then a sudden ring from his phone. A massage appeared. His dead inside eyes scan the words. " From Dad : Hey, Champ. Sorry for not making it to your birthday. I've transferred some money and extra allowance. I hope you could forgive your old man. Stay healthy son. " he read it to himself. As a few seconds passed there's nothing but a sigh from him—he then realized that it was his birthday a week ago.
"Oh, yeah—it was my birthday. I even forgot about it. Guess I’ll buy more of these tomorrow," he muttered absently, tapping his spoon against the empty cup before setting it aside.
The quiet lingered, unbroken, as he sank deeper into his chair, the glow of his phone the only light in the room.
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" Welp, that's that. Guess I will head back to my room after brushing my teeth. " he said in a somewhat cheerful tone but it was obvious that it was an attempt.
The bathroom was dimly lit, the soft buzz of the fluorescent light filling the air. The MC stood before the sink, his reflection staring back at him from the slightly foggy mirror. His expression was as unreadable as ever—neither tired nor particularly awake, just there.
Reaching for his toothbrush, he squeezed a line of toothpaste onto the bristles, the faint minty scent wafting up as he turned on the faucet. The sound of running water was oddly loud in the quiet house, echoing faintly against the tiled walls.
He began brushing, the rhythmic motion of his hand almost mechanical. His mind drifted as the brush scraped against his teeth, small foamy bubbles forming in the corners of his mouth. His gaze stayed locked on the mirror, though he wasn’t really looking at himself.
"Maybe I should get a new toothpaste," he muttered through the foam, his voice barely audible. "This one tastes like… cardboard."
He spat into the sink, the frothy mix swirling down the drain as he rinsed his mouth. Grabbing the cup on the counter, he filled it with water and swished it around, his cheeks puffing out slightly before spitting again.
Placing the toothbrush back in its holder, he ran his hands under the faucet, splashing his face once for good measure. A few stray droplets clung to his chin as he grabbed a towel to pat his face dry.
Turning off the faucet, he lingered for a moment, staring into the mirror as if expecting it to say something. It never did.
With a sigh, he switched off the light and left the bathroom, the quiet swallowing him whole once again. The night wasn't anything special, the faint hum of the PC's fans greeted the MC as he entered his room, the neon glow of the monitor still illuminating the desk. The rhythm game he'd just finished remained on the results screen, a reminder of his earlier mindless activity.
He let out a soft sigh as he pulled out his chair and sat down, the wheels rolling slightly against the wooden floor.
"Heh, guess it's like the usual," he muttered, moving the cursor to exit the game. The background music faded, replaced by the silence of his desktop. Without much thought, he opened his browser, the search engine page reflecting off his eyes.
He scrolled aimlessly for a moment before a headline caught his attention: "Phonk Runner Live: S.E.F Agent Battles Salamander Beast."
Clicking it out of mild curiosity, the screen switched to a live broadcast. The camera, though slightly shaky, captured a battle in full swing. A massive dragon-like salamander roared, its black scales shimmering faintly with a protective sheen, an almost impenetrable barrier against frost attacks. The scene was chaotic, filled with flashes of icy blue light and plumes of smoke.
An S.E.F agent darted around the creature, his movements precise and fluid. Frost formed under his feet as he launched sharp icicles at the beast, aiming for weak points. But each attack seemed to glance off the scales, leaving little more than scratches.
"That thing’s tough. What kind of thing even is that," the MC mused, leaning slightly forward.
The salamander hissed, a stream of molten flames erupting from its maw. The agent flipped and dodged with impressive agility, countering with a freezing mist that temporarily dulled the fire's intensity. It was clear he wasn’t trying to kill the beast—just delaying its advance.
"Hmm his attacks don't look like they are putting a scratch on that thing. Is he stalling or something? Guess the town’s lucky this guy showed up," he muttered.
The Phonk Runner’s signature high-energy soundtrack filled the background, adding an almost surreal intensity to the battle. The camera shifted angles rapidly, showcasing both the agent’s mastery over frost and the salamander’s overwhelming power.
Suddenly, the camera panned out as a loud crack split the air. A sniper shot. The bullet struck the creature squarely in the head, piercing clean through. The salamander let out a guttural roar before collapsing, its massive body crashing into the ground, sending a plume of dust into the air.
The camera zoomed in on a distant figure standing on a cliff, their silhouette barely visible, but the gleam of advanced tech weaponry was unmistakable. Another S.E.F assault agent.
" Whistle what a shot," the MC muttered, sitting back in his chair. His expression remained neutral, but there was a flicker of intrigue in his eyes.
The stream switched to the Phonk Runner’s animated outro, the words “See you in the next big fight!” flashing across the screen in bold letters.
"Guess they aren’t just all about the tech, gotta hand it to them—they know what they’re doing."
Still, the intrigue faded as quickly as it had come. He turned his chair slightly, glancing at the empty room around him before stretching his arms above his head.
"Back to the same old," he muttered, his voice trailing off as he opened another tab. A smirk formed on his lips, " Heh guess it's time to indulge myself again. " he said to himself in somewhat of a smug tone. His fingers frenetically type on the keyboard with a mischievous grin on him face. Seems like he has something to distract himself from his crippling loneliness.
He entered an adult only website, " heh. " Slipped through his mouth with a smirk. " Oo La La… I think I'm feeling like cat girls for tonight. " he pulled the tissue box near his keyboard. Afterwards he went to bed quickly with exhaustion from his indulgence.
Late Morning Routine
The sunlight seeped through the thin curtains of the MC’s room, casting soft golden lines across the cluttered desk and the faintly glowing monitor still left on sleep mode. He stirred, eyes fluttering open lazily, the clock on the wall confirming it was already past 9 AM.
Rubbing his face with one hand, he muttered groggily, “Guess I overslept… again—not that it's a big deal anyway.” His voice echoed faintly in the quiet house, but he was used to that by now.
Dragging himself out of bed, he shuffled toward the kitchen, his footsteps light on the tiled floor. The fridge door creaked as he opened it, revealing an unorganized mix of leftover containers and instant meals. He grabbed a familiar cup of instant noodles and sighed.
“Breakfast of champions—I wonder I will pass my 40th with this diet,” he said dryly, tearing the lid and pouring in hot water from the electric kettle.
He leaned against the counter, scrolling through his phone while waiting for the noodles to cook. His feed was the usual mix—random memes, a friend’s post about their new PC, and a viral clip of someone doing parkour in the city. He stopped at a video titled "10 Things You Didn’t Know About S.E.F. Interesting," but skipped past it without a second thought.
Once the noodles were ready, he grabbed a pair of chopsticks and sat down at the small kitchen table. The house was silent except for the occasional slurp as he ate, eyes glued to his phone.
A post from the Phonk Runner’s account popped up, showcasing a flashy highlight of last night’s fight. The camera angles, the dramatic lighting—it all looked so grandiose. But he just smirked. “Guess someone’s living the dream, wish I could feel that much adrenaline in person.” he muttered between bites.
The silence of the house lingered around him like a heavy fog, but it didn’t bother him much. Loneliness wasn’t something he dwelled on anymore; it was just how things were. The noodles tasted as bland as they had the night before, but they were enough to stave off hunger.
He leaned back in the chair, letting out a quiet sigh. “Another day,” he murmured, staring at the ceiling for a moment before scrolling again, ready to lose himself in the endless stream of nothingness on his phone. A massage icon popped up; it's from Mom " Huh, " he click on the icon " Hey, honey. Sorry about your birthday. I hope you could forgive me. I have sent you alliance to your account and extra to go have fun with your friends but don't stay out too late. Stay healthy honey… huh... Friends... " he sighed as his words echo in his gloomy house.
With a spark of idea to distract himself like the usual, " Well, guess it's time to grind in Legacy Of Legends. I suppose I could pass the diamond today. " he said with a distraction in his mind, he quickly gone back up to his room and decided to spend his weekend with games and self pleasure—unbeknown that his life will take a big turn at the next day.
