Extra Babel

The steady click-clack of my controller echoed through the dark room, each press perfectly synchronized with my character's movements on the screen. Every combo landed flawlessly, every ability executed with precision. I wasn't just playing—I was dominating, overwhelming my enemy with relentless skill.

And yet, no matter how much I tried, I failed.

[Game Over]

The dim glow of the TV cast flickering shadows across my darkened room as the screen faded, its edges pulsing with a deep red hue. A single message appeared in the center:

"YOU DIED."

I sighed, already used to the sight. Without hesitation, I reached for the worn notebook beside me, flipping to the last entry I had scrawled earlier this week when I started this save.

Mikhail— Path of Azazel (39)

Another failure. I crossed it out with a heavy stroke, joining the dozens of other failed routes marked across the page. Countless attempts, hours of gameplay, all leading to the same result.

For the past year, I had been obsessed with this obscure game I stumbled upon online—Tower of Babel. At first, I thought it was just another difficult RPG, but the more I played, the more I realized something was off. No one had ever beaten it.

I searched through every forum, every hidden corner of the internet, but all I found were false leads and frustrated players stuck just like me. No one had reached the true ending.

I experimented with every character, every possible combination of choices, every route I could think of. Yet, no matter what I tried, nothing would work, I never found the ending.

There had to be a secret. A hidden path. No developer would create a game that was impossible to beat… right?

Shaking off the frustration, I tightened my grip on the controller, ready to restart. But before I could, a new message appeared at the top of the screen.

[Congratulations, Player. You have been selected.]

I frowned. Selected?

Curious, I pressed the button. The screen shimmered, and a letter materialized before my eyes, floating in midair. It unfolded on its own, revealing a message inside:

[Congratulations, Player. You have been selected.]

This is an official message from Tower of Babel. You have been awarded the opportunity to reach the true ending—an exclusive gameplay experience available only to a select few. Only the best players of Tower of Babel have received this invitation.

This is a one-time opportunity.

Upon accepting, you commit to playing the game for an indefinite period of time, uninterrupted, until you complete it.

Do you accept?

(YES / NO)

A chill ran down my spine. Indefinite period of time?

I stared at the glowing text, my finger hovering over the button, undecided, I really wanted to accept, to finally see the true ending of this game. But, something in my mind prevented me.

No, I can't. Playing indefinitely? That's insane. Not now.

I sighed, tossing my controller aside before reaching for my phone. The screen lit up with the time.

9:23 AM.

It's already time…

Seeing the time, I got up from the couch and grabbed my jacket from the dining table on my way to the door. My keys and wallet were right where I had left them, so I scooped them up without breaking stride. Without wasting another second, I stepped outside, locking the door behind me.

The walk to my destination was quiet. The city buzzed with distant sounds—cars humming, voices murmuring, footsteps echoing—but I paid them no mind. My focus remained ahead, and I quickened my pace, wanting to arrive as soon as possible.

In just twenty minutes, I reached the hospital.

Stepping inside, I was greeted by the sterile brightness of the grand white hall. Rows of chairs lined the walls, some occupied by tired faces waiting in silence. Ignoring the faint hum of conversation and the distant beeping of machines, I made my way to the reception desk, where an elderly blonde woman glanced up.

The moment she saw me, her lips curled into a warm smile.

"Kaleb, how are you doing?"

Returning the smile, I replied, "As fine as I can be, Helia. What about you?"

"I'm doing well." She studied me knowingly before adding, "Here to visit her again?"

I nodded. "As always. Though, I'm not sure she appreciates my visits." I chuckled, trying to mask the weight behind my words.

Helia shook her head with a soft laugh. "She's always happy to see you, you know that. But you have to understand her side too—she would prefer that you"

"I know," I interrupted gently. "Don't worry, Helia. I know."

She sighed, then smiled warmly. "You're a good son, Kaleb. Visiting her every day, supporting her... Men like you are rare nowadays. Say, do you have a girlfriend? Because I just might have a daughter perfect for you."

I forced an awkward smile. "Oh, look at the time—I really have to go. Bye, Helia!"

Not giving her a chance to press further, I quickly excused myself and headed down the corridors. The quiet hum of the hospital followed me as I climbed the staircase to the second floor, passing countless doors that led to patients' rooms. At the very end of the hall, I turned right and opened the last door.

Inside, a woman lay on the hospital bed, her frail body propped up against the pillows as she gazed out of the large window.

She looked so fragile—pale as a ghost, delicate as a feather. Just seeing her like this twisted something in my chest. Her caramel-brown eyes, once so vibrant, held a distant, tired glow. Dark brown hair cascaded over her shoulders in unkempt waves, untouched by the usual care she once had for it.

Despite it all, as I walked in, she turned to glance at me, her lips curving into a smile—one that carried both relief and sadness.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The quiet hum of the machines filled the silence between us, a constant reminder of why she was here.

"Hey, Mom."

She sighed, shaking her head, though the soft smile never left her face. "Kaleb, didn't I ask you to stop coming?"

Nodding I approached her, "I might have a faint recollection of that"

She sighed while saying, "Son, you can't put your life on hold because of me"

I leaned back in the chair, crossing my arms. "It's not on hold. I'm just... waiting."

"Waiting for what?"

"For you to get better." My voice was steady, as if saying it with enough conviction could make it true.

She chuckled, the sound light but carrying a weight I couldn't ignore. "You're stubborn…"

I smirked. "Geez, I wonder where I got it from."

Reaching for the cup of water on the bedside table, I handed it to her. She took it with a slight tremor in her hands, managing a small sip before setting it back down.

"I saw Helia downstairs," I said, changing the subject. "She was trying to set me up with her daughter."

That earned a genuine laugh from her. "And? Is she pretty?"

I shrugged. "Didn't stick around long enough to find out."

She hummed. "You might be missing the opportunity of your life."

I scoffed, putting on a dramatic tone. "You're the only woman in my life."

For a moment, the room was filled with nothing but the steady hum of the machines. I saw her gripping on the blankets as she looked out on the window, avoiding my gaze as she broke the silence.

"Kaleb… I'm going to die."

I stiffened. "You don't know that."

"We do!" she shouted, her voice cracking. A violent cough followed, and she clutched her chest, her frail body trembling under the weight of it.

I moved to help her, but she shook her head. "We both know it. We've known for a long time, and I've already accepted it. You need to accept it too."

I bit down on the inside of my cheek, forcing myself to stay silent. My hands curled into fists at my sides before I turned toward the window, staring out at the stormy sky.

"There's still a chance…" I said, my voice weaker than I wanted it to be.

"You know there's not." Her voice was soft now, resigned. "I'll die. And before I do, I need to know that you'll be okay."

The rain began to fall, tapping gently against the glass, but it might as well have been silent. The only sound I could hear was the rhythmic beeping of the machine beside her.

"I just want you to be happy, Kaleb," she continued, her voice growing fainter. "Go 

back to university. Find friends. Meet someone. Get married. Live your life. That's all I wish for in the time I have left—I want you to be happy."

I stayed where I was, staring out at the endless gray clouds, my throat tight. The rain intensified, and for a moment, it drowned out the world.

Then, a new sound broke through.

A frantic, erratic beeping.

I spun around.

She lay still, her body limp against the bed, her caramel eyes wide open—empty. Blood dripped from the corner of her mouth, staining her pillow.

The machine continued its shrill alarm.

"Mom?"

The next moments were a blur—everything happening too fast, my mind scrambling to catch up. Doctors rushed in, nurses followed, there were murmurs, a flood of words, all of it a cacophony that barely registered in my mind. The only thing I heard clearly was the final, simple confirmation.

She was gone.

I just stared. I didn't know what to say. I didn't know what to do. My mind couldn't process it. Everything felt numb, like I was floating outside myself, disconnected from reality. Then time lurched forward, and I found myself at her funeral.

The rain came down in sheets, cold and unrelenting, soaking the ground beneath my feet. The air was thick, heavy with sorrow. There were no mourners. No relatives. No friends. Only me.

I stood alone, the only witness to her passing, my mother's lifeless body lying in the ground, swallowed by the earth. The sound of the rain was the only company I had, falling like tears from the sky, drowning out everything else.

And then, just like that, I was back home.

The silence in the house was suffocating. It felt hollow, as if the walls themselves were mourning her loss. The memories I once held so dearly are now just pulling me further into despair.

But even in the midst of this darkness, there was a faint glimmer of something. In fact, not light, but music.

A soft melody, drifting through the air. It was coming from the direction of my gaming console.

I followed the sound, my movements slow and mechanical. I approached the screen, where Tower of Babel still lay open, paused at the exact spot I had left it. The game's window was still open, and there it was— the same proposal.

[Upon accepting, you commit to playing the game for an indefinite period of time, uninterrupted, until you complete it.

Do you accept?]

(YES / NO)

I stared at the words, my mind numb, my body worn. The house around me, once filled with laughter and light, now felt like a prison of sorrow. I glanced at the empty space where her presence used to fill the room and felt an overwhelming sense of emptiness.

Without thinking, without hesitation, my hand moved to the controller and clicked on YES.

The moment I confirmed, a wave of exhaustion took me over— a heaviness I couldn't fight. It was as if the world itself had drained the last of my energy, leaving me empty. 

My body collapsed onto the couch, the weight of everything too much to bear. My eyes fluttered closed, and for a moment, I felt a warmth—an embrace—before the darkness swallowed me whole.

…

[Welcome to Babel, Kaleb.]