Chapter 359

A deep silence pressed down on Antonio as he sat at his desk, his eyes fixed on the screen. The flicker of the monitor illuminated his face, casting cold light across his weary features. The game was no longer what it had once been.

He had been an avid player since its launch—he had even been part of the beta test, helping to shape its early success. But now, it was all different. The developers, the so-called geniuses who had crafted this world, were ruining it.

Slowly but surely, they were stripping it of everything that had made it great. He could feel his fingers tense on the mouse, a clench forming in his chest as his mind circled with dark thoughts.

This wasn't the first time he'd complained. His message boards had been filled with angry posts, countless hours spent pouring out frustration over what he had seen as the slow death of his favorite game. But no one cared. The players complained, but nothing changed. The updates, the patches, the expansions—it was all heading in a direction he couldn't stand. It wasn't fun anymore.

A plan was forming in his mind now, a plan that had started as a fleeting thought but was quickly becoming something more. What if… What if he could make them understand? What if he could make them pay for what they'd done to his game?

He didn't know when the idea first came to him, but it had consumed him. He had the knowledge, the skills, the technology. He could make it happen. And for the first time in weeks, he felt something like excitement—an emotion he hadn't felt in a long time.

The people responsible for the game's decline were not far away. The offices of the developers, the CEOs, the designers—they were all within reach. They thought they were safe in their shiny offices, surrounded by security and comfort.

But Antonio knew something they didn't: he had access to things far beyond what they could imagine. He had spent years building systems, hacking into networks, learning every trick that could be used to breach their defenses. He had gathered the necessary tools. It would be easy. Too easy.

He stood up from his chair, feeling a strange weightlessness, as if something had left him. The plan was simple. A few key people—targeted first. One by one, they would fall. No one would ever know what hit them.

He grabbed the bag that sat beside his desk, checking the contents one last time. His pulse quickened, the cold steel of the gadgets inside the bag somehow grounding him in his resolve. There was no turning back now.

The streets of the city were crowded with the usual bustle of activity. The neon lights reflected off the wet pavement, casting sickly hues of green and red into the night. Antonio walked through the crowds with his head down, blending in like he had done so many times before. No one noticed him, no one cared. He was just another face in the crowd.

The city felt different tonight. There was a strange energy in the air, a tension that he couldn't quite place. Maybe it was just him, but something felt off. Maybe he was just imagining it. His mission was clear, and he wasn't going to let anything stand in his way.

He took the subway, the train rumbling through the underground tunnels. The air inside the car was thick, suffocating. People stood close to him, packed like sardines, yet none of them spoke. Everyone kept to themselves.

Antonio watched their faces, wondering if any of them knew what was about to happen. His heart beat faster, but it wasn't from fear. It was anticipation. He had thought about this for weeks, and now he was almost there.

When the train finally arrived at his stop, he exited quickly, his feet echoing against the concrete floors of the station. The developers' headquarters were nearby, hidden behind layers of glass and security. He had already scoped out the building, memorized the layout, and hacked into their security systems. He knew exactly where to go.

The night was quiet, almost unnervingly so. He slipped past the guards outside, easily avoiding their notice, his footsteps muffled by the rain that had started to fall. Everything felt like it was happening in slow motion, like the world was holding its breath, waiting for the inevitable.

Inside, the building was cold and sterile, white lights glaring off the marble floors. The elevators opened with a soft chime, and Antonio stepped inside, his heart thumping in his chest. He had done this before, but this time, it felt different. This time, it wasn't a game. This time, it was real.

He rode the elevator to the top floor, where the offices of the CEOs and the most influential members of the development team were located. The doors slid open, and Antonio stepped out into the hallway. It was quiet, too quiet.

He could hear nothing but the faint sound of his own breath, and yet there was a weight hanging in the air. He wasn't sure why, but something didn't feel right.

His fingers brushed against the cold surface of the wall as he walked down the hall, his shoes making almost no sound. He reached the first door—CEO's office. He pressed his ear against the door. Nothing. The room was empty.

He pushed the door open slowly, stepping inside. It was pristine, almost sterile. A large desk sat in the center of the room, papers neatly stacked on top, a computer monitor glowing faintly.

It felt wrong to be here. He knew what he was about to do, and yet standing in the middle of the room, something inside him recoiled. He could hear the steady thrum of his heartbeat in his ears, but he forced himself to move.

His fingers brushed over the desk, and then he spotted it—the small, innocuous button under the desk. A kill switch, something he had programmed into their systems months ago.

He pressed the button.

The lights in the building flickered. The security systems—down. The cameras—offline. It was his time now.

Antonio moved quickly, methodically, entering the offices one by one. His targets were all there, scattered across the different floors. Some of them were caught unaware, others were too late to escape. Antonio didn't hesitate. There was no room for mercy. He moved with precision, no wasted motions, no distractions. Each one of them fell. No screams. No chaos. Just the quiet, eerie finality of it all.

When it was over, Antonio stood in the middle of the carnage. His breathing was heavy, ragged, but there was no satisfaction in it. It was hollow. All he had done—everything he had worked for—felt meaningless. It wasn't like the game. It wasn't the same at all.

His chest tightened. The feeling of emptiness grew, spreading like a disease. He had wanted them to feel what he had felt. To understand the rage, the frustration, the helplessness. But in the silence, all he could feel was his own numbness.

Suddenly, he heard footsteps—soft at first, then louder. Someone was coming. He turned, his pulse quickening, his eyes scanning the dark hallway. There was no escape now. No place to hide. He had made his choice.

A figure appeared at the end of the hall, just a shadow at first, then a man, tall and imposing. Antonio recognized him immediately. The lead developer. The one responsible for the decisions that had ruined everything.

The man's eyes were wide with fear, his steps slow, cautious. "You…" he began, but his voice trailed off.

Antonio's finger hovered over the trigger. It would be easy. Too easy. He had been preparing for this moment for so long. But now, as he looked at the man standing before him, something inside him broke.

He realized, all too late, that this wasn't going to bring him peace. It wasn't going to fix anything. It was just blood. Just violence.

The developer tried to run, but Antonio was faster. The final shot echoed in the empty halls, and then there was silence again.

Antonio stood over the man, his breath shallow. The weight of what he had done was crashing down on him now, and there was no escape from it. The mission was complete, but the emptiness was still there. The plan had failed, not because of the carnage, but because it had never been about the game. It had been about him. He was the one who had failed.

As the sirens grew louder in the distance, Antonio fell to his knees. There was no victory. No satisfaction. Only the overwhelming emptiness of it all.

And in the end, it didn't matter who had won or lost.

Nothing ever did.