The Worlds Hate

An 18th-century philosopher long forgotten once posed a question for humanity: if a tree fell in the woods and no one was around to hear it, would it make a sound? It was meant to challenge the idea of perception, of existence tied to observation. But what if the question wasn't about absence, but ignorance? What if the tree fell, not in isolation, but in the midst of a crowd too distracted to notice?

The world hadn't been empty. It had been full—teeming with billions of humans living their lives. The problem wasn't that no one was around. It was that no one was paying attention. No one paid attention to the suffering of others. Those cries for help turned to hate, hate for the world that had abandoned them. Even those who paid attention lacked the empathy to reach them all.

In a world brimming with chaos and injustice, suffering was the language of the unseen, the unheard. For every cry of anguish, there was laughter not far away, echoing in a warm, well-lit room where someone was thriving in comfort, oblivious to the pain of others. Some beings were born to suffer, to carry the weight of the world's cruelty on their backs. Others were born to thrive, to bask in fortune's light without a thought for the shadows they left behind.

Empathy turned to apathy, despair turned to hate, and all the while, the eyes of a distant power turned to humanity. Some cried to the heavens for justice, their voices hoarse with desperation, while others accepted their fates with a hallowed silence. And yet, amid the chaos, there were those who believed in something different. That suffering was not the end but a crucible. That in chaos, everyone—whether by choice or necessity—had the opportunity to grow. To adapt. To rise.

But growth through suffering was a cruel teacher that few embraced willingly. And as the world tore itself apart, its people were left with a question far more harrowing than the sound of a tree falling: when the ground gives way beneath you, will you climb, or will you let yourself fall?

It began as a whisper in the fabric of reality—subtle, almost imperceptible. For months, the world had felt... different. Nothing anyone could pinpoint exactly. A low-level hum that no one seemed able to hear, but some gifted few had felt. Streetlights flickered for no reason. Animals grew restless, their instincts warning them of a danger while humans were too distracted. Even the weather turned erratic—summers stretched too long, winters came too early, and storms seemed angrier as if nature itself was protesting. Different groups would blame each other's policies and stand on moral high grounds. Some would pick sides, some indifferent, yet most willfully ignorant as to avoid the headache of having to face a stark reality. Life was not easy, it never was. And shortly, humanity would face the consequences for having made it so. 

Kade first noticed the changes a few weeks ago, though it didn't surprise him much—he'd always hated the world. Life had never gone his way, not once, not ever. It wasn't that he wanted to do bad things; it was just that he never seemed to have the fortune or the luxury to do anything differently. The world had a way of chewing people up and spitting them out, and Kade had been gnawed on more than most. Survival wasn't a choice; it was a grim inevitability, one scraped together from the sharp edges of desperation and the bitter taste of compromise. He'd been making his way through the labyrinth of alleyways that had become his preferred shortcuts, slipping past dumpsters and graffiti-covered walls. The air felt thicker, charged like the moments before a lightning strike. Electronics in the area had started acting up—radios cutting to static, and street lights flickered. He didn't think much of it at first, the City's infrastructure wasn't exactly reliable after all, "Well we know where all the moneys going", A faint laugh escaped him, paired with a dismissive shake of his head, like he'd already resigned himself to the absurdity. He continued on his way, patting his sides at his waste to assure himself that the package he was carrying was still there.

As Kade approached the road, when observing the people who crossed his path he felt an eerie aura. He saw several individuals seemingly wandering with glassy eyes, their gazes distant. This brought his mind back to the rumors circulating at the clubhouse, his target destination, a place for scum like himself. Mostly people looking to sell items of ill-gotten means. He had heard about strange phenomena from the insane owner, Griggs. It had been something about shadows moving without a source, people vanishing without a trace, others waking up with vivid, impossible memories. It was the kind of crazy talk that he usually dismissed, but something about it lingered in his mind. The city had always been chaotic, and Griggs had always been crazy, but this was different.

Across the city in the upper end of the financial district, Zeke's life, in contrast, had remained disciplined. A creature of routine, he thrived on structure—jogging every morning, and working his tail off. He had recently been promoted as the youngest partner at his law firm, working from dusk till dawn in one of the tallest buildings in the upper east side business district. Of course, It would be hard to say he didn't earn what he had, but that was not to say he had to deal with a lack of talent, let alone opportunity. Zeke always seemed to be in fortunes good graces when it mattered most. Yet even with his picturesque life, he couldn't ignore the creeping wrongness in the world, though it never seemed to cast a shadow his way.

He first felt it during a jog through the park. The air seemed heavier, and his skin prickled with an unnatural heat. People passed him looking just as uneasy, glancing up at the sky as if searching for answers. He dismissed it, focusing instead on the rhythm of his breathing, the pounding of his feet on the pavement. But the feeling lingered, gnawing at the edges of his thoughts.

Kade and Zeke hadn't spoken in years. Once, they'd been inseparable, two kids who grew up navigating the rough edges of the city together, Kade out of necessity and Zeke to satiate his curiosity of how the other side lived. Kade, always the risk-taker, had a knack for trouble that Zeke's steady presence often tempered. They'd shared everything—childhood dreams, teenage rebellions, even heartbreak.

But something had happened, something neither of them liked to talk about. A girl, Zeke's girlfriend at the time, had complicated their friendship. Words had been exchanged, fists thrown. Neither had handled it well, and the bond that once felt unbreakable had been left behind... This misunderstanding had simply been the excuse they needed to face the reality, that they weren't children anymore. It was as if the two had long acknowledged that their lives would always lead them in different directions.

They'd gone their separate ways after high school, their lives diverging like two branches of the same tree. Apart but always connected. Zeke found stability, carving out a life built on hard work and discipline. Kade... well, Kade survived, scraping by with odd jobs and sheer determination, until that wasn't enough anymore. He had the skills to survive one way or another, the injustice of the world simply gave him a justification.

And now coincidentally, here they were, each feeling the same pull toward something they couldn't explain.

The city grew quieter in the days leading up to the event. Streets that were once teeming with life now seemed subdued as if the entire city had paused to listen. People whispered about a growing tension, though few dared to say it out loud.

Zeke finished his jog, standing at the edge of the park with his hands on his hips. He watched the horizon, feeling that same, unshakable weight pressing down on him.

Then, it happened.

The first tremor was faint, barely enough to stir the loose gravel beneath Zeke's feet. But the second one came like a thunderclap, shaking the ground hard enough to send cracks spidering through the pavement.

Kade felt it too, leaning up against the brick wall as the entire building groaned beside him. Alarms blared in the distance, joined by the panicked cries of people spilling into the streets. He scrambled around the street corner, heart pounding.

Both men felt it at the same time: a pull.

It wasn't physical, but it was undeniable, an instinctive tug deep in their chests. The feeling grew stronger with every step they took, leading them toward the heart of the city.

The epicenter was the financial district, a place of towering glass skyscrapers that now seemed to pulse with an unnatural energy. Kade arrived first, weaving through the panicked crowd. He couldn't explain what he was feeling—a mix of dread and fascination, like standing too close to the edge of a cliff.

Zeke wasn't far behind, his broad frame cutting through the chaos. He saw Kade almost immediately, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop.

"Kade?"

Kade turned, his eyes widening. "Zeke? You've got to be kidding me."

Before they could say more, the sky split open.

A blinding burst of light erupted from the tallest skyscraper, tearing through the atmosphere with a deafening roar. The shockwave hit like a freight train, sending people flying.

Some disintegrated instantly, their bodies reduced to glowing particles that shimmered before vanishing. Others were thrown to the ground, their bodies broken by the force. And then there were those who collapsed, unconscious but twitching violently as their flesh began to bubble and twist. 

Zeke and Kade were thrown backward, the impact knocking the air from their lungs. Kade groaned, clutching his ribs, while Zeke forced himself to sit up, his vision swimming.

the silence was absolute. Kade stirred from the jagged concrete where he'd landed, the pulse of Resonance Energy still thrumming faintly in his skull. The city was unrecognizable, warped and broken, as if some celestial hand had crushed it in a fit of rage. Towering skyscrapers leaned precariously or lay in ruins, their glass facades shattered into glittering heaps. The streets were crisscrossed with glowing fissures, as though the earth itself had been split open and poured molten light into the cracks.

He groaned, rubbing the back of his head. The air tasted metallic, like copper and ash, and a low hum reverberated just at the edge of his consciousness. Something had changed. But what? And more importantly, why? Kade pushed himself to his feet, his senses still reeling. The shockwave that had hit earlier—was it only an earthquake? No, it felt different. Almost… alive.

The ground trembled again, this time not from natural forces but from something else entirely. His fingers twitched, a strange tingling running through them as if they were awakening to a power he couldn't yet understand. Zeke, he thought, shaking his head. He hadn't seen his old friend in years, but something in the back of his mind told him their paths were about to cross again. No, not just cross. Collide. 

"What... what's happening?" Zeke stammered, scanning the chaos of the area, his eyes stopped at a woman shaking violently, her limbs were elongating, her bones cracking audibly as they shifted. She had been one of the people whose eyes were glazed over previously.

Kade shook his head, his voice barely a whisper. "I don't know, but we need to move. Now!" Thoughts streamed through Kade's head for answers, was it some sort of attack from a foreign nation? Kade instinctively knew to flee.

At that moment, a growl echoed through the air, inhuman and terrifying.

The first of the mutated rose, historians would later call this day, the world break.