Obito had envisioned an existence beyond his own ever since he was a scrawny and naïve adolescent, but that was in ruins along with everything else now. The world was different, people were different, (if you could even call them 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 anymore) and it had been that way for over a year now, give or take. Maybe two. The days were starting to blend together, it was growing increasingly difficult to tell as time went on. Keeping track seemed pointless. There was night and day, and that was it.

He stuffed his hand into the pocket of his tattered leather jacket, peering over the lake from the murky shoreline through a tired squint and pulled out a pack of smokes. Flipping open the slightly crumpled lid with his thumb, he peered down inside to look upon the contents. Four left, and a third of one he hadn't finished. He'd have to go out on another supply run to the gas station again soon. The pharmacy, too. He sighed heavily at the daunting idea, and the butt of a fresh cigarette came between his lips.

There was no isolated incident that left the earth and all her inhabitants weak with famine and disease, but, a vague series of events had lead to a collective awareness shared amongst the few that remain. Nobody knows what happened, not fully, but he had hope that one day, a lead could be discovered through investigation, and perhaps then, an opening at the end of this dark tunnel. Or, he used to anyway.

For Obito, it was something he could never forget. It often haunted him as he dreamt, even. Just as it started to fade from memory, like a scar healing over a deep wound--he was reminded again, waking up abruptly in a cold sweat and gasping for air. There was no escaping it.

First there was a flash of light, much too bright for ant set of eyes to handle. An ill-omened, terrible crimson radiated from that flash as if it were the spokes of an elemental wheel, and the whole sky turned red, like it was bleeding. Then a strange, shrill sound echoed in his head, distant screams bouncing off the walls surrounding his throbbing eardrums.

A myriad of nacreous clouds stretched across the sky, enough to cover it entirely. The world turned inside out. Up became down, left became right. Buildings shattered to pieces, burning as they fell to the ground in what felt like slow motion. The air rumbled and bellowed as if it were a living thing, angry with humanity. Then the shock wave came, sweeping away the ashes like blowing dust off an old book. His spikey back hair and clothes whipped back and forth, hot radiation scarring the right half of his body before he was able to teleport away.

Everyone had different experiences of that morning, 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘮𝘴𝘥𝘢𝘺, different theories of why it occurred and how to fix it. There was no information to work with, but nobody could get the questions off their minds. Curiosity was human nature, after all.

This was reality, the widespread decay of life truly existed on the same ground he stood upon. Over time his enthusiasm to find a cure had deteriorated drastically, replaced by the stinging impatience of desperately chasing something irretrievable, and failing to catch it. Miserably.

Obito was irate with this invisible, shapeless thing that took everything from him, causing both physical and mental harm that balanced on a thin line above what is considered unbearable. He'd get exhausted, discouraged, then the vexation would flare up again, like some sort of emotional seizure. Without anything to focus those feelings on, the torturous cycle repeated over and over again. It was awful being so furious, with nothing specific to be furious at. Obito could not rid himself of these afflictions, dragging on inside him endlessly.

“Calm down”, he told himself out loud with urgency in his quiet voice. 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘐? His brain quickly yelled back. He pulled out a match, striking it on the side of the box and brought the flame to the tobacco, protecting it from the wind with his free hand. Sparks gave birth to a small flame and after a few drags, he felt the tension start to lift from his shoulders.

The sun sank steadily in the west, touched the horizon, then slipped out of sight entirely, leaving only a blur of light. He'd better get inside quickly, the ??? come out at night in search of anything with a heartbeat to sink their jagged teeth into. Goosebumps ran across his skin and he shuddered at the thought.

The dry air kicked up waves on the lake and the colour of sky went dull, like an old photograph, or as if it had been painted over with the stroke of a brush. 𝘉𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭. It was like a symphony made visible.


heat like dense distorting the air
splashed water on face with perfect aim
light reflected off shoes, propped up against a pillar
choked the words back down
The way she smiled reminded him of how a cloud could change shape.

“”↴