Waiting
The chat was scrolling up rapidly.
They were desperately trying to stop us from heading down the path stretching out before us. If they had hands, it felt like they'd grab us right then and there. I was baffled—these were the same folks who usually complained about the scenery being boring or demanded something new.
"Didn't you guys love places like this? Why the sudden worry out of nowhere?"
The chat erupted in shivers of intense rejection. But mixed in were plenty urging us to go check it out right away. As conflicting opinions clashed, the mood turned hostile. Watching them tear into each other without mercy was a messy brawl that made me sigh involuntarily. Even gently telling them to knock it off didn't calm the storm, so I turned away. Butting into a chat with no block or ban function was just stupid.
"Unnie, the UFO talk is too fast—I can't make out a word."
"Don't worry about it, Hope. It's just their usual nonsense. Reading it only hurts my eyes, so let's just head in there."
"Okay."
On our way to Eden, while scouting around for supplies as usual, a strange corridor caught my eye. I thought this was just another abandoned building, but surprisingly, there were lights on inside. No idea where the power was coming from, but the old fluorescent bulbs on the ceiling flickered precariously. It was a hallway of frayed walls stretching endlessly without a single window. Still, I had a hunch something was at the end.
We hadn't walked far down the corridor when an entrance without a door appeared.
"Unnie, what's that written on the wall by the door?"
"Can't read it. But... looking at the symbols, it seems like a warning sign."
"So it's dangerous inside?"
"Probably."
Glancing around, I spotted powered-down CCTVs and shattered monitors. The floor was littered with flyers covered in bizarre drawings and unreadable text, as if trying to explain the place.
The chats were still bickering. Don't they ever get tired? Anyway, an entrance reeking of suspicion at the end of this corridor. But it felt different from the risky spots I'd visited before. Those always had unidentified equipment or items scattered around. I hadn't seen any the whole way here.
"Unnie, what now? Gonna turn back?"
Best to avoid danger when possible. If it were just me, maybe, but Hope was with me. Still, lit-up places aren't common. Might find something useful inside.
Times like this always tangle up my head.
Risk it for exploration, or value our lives and bail. No right answer, just exhausting. If this were a survival game, I'd dive right in—you can always restart. But this ain't a game.
What to do...
After agonizing...
"We're here already—let's check it out. Stick right behind me."
"Okay."
Sometimes you gotta risk it for the reward. If it feels dangerous inside, we bolt then. Steeling myself, I stepped through the entrance, and a bizarre space unfolded.
"Hm?"
"Eh?"
Nothing. No windows, no furniture—truly nothing but vast emptiness lit by fluorescent lights. My entrance dilemma felt silly now.
Fortunately, there were arrows on the floor. Follow them, no getting lost, maybe exit the other side. Even if we did, just backtrack. Come to think of it, didn't my past life have rooms like this? They were trendy, but I wasn't into it—memory's fuzzy.
Despite the chat's pleas, we moved forward.
"Unnie, this place is really weird, right?"
"Yeah. Such a huge room, totally empty. What was it even for?"
The identical scenery dragged on, making it feel like we were going in circles. Why leave such a big room bare?
"Unnie, I think I know. It's for hide-and-seek. So huge, hard to find where you're hiding."
"Hide-and-seek? I'd say tag fits better."
"Really? Unnie, wanna play?"
"Not now. Stray from the arrows, we might really get lost. I'd never find you in a place like this."
"Eh?! For real?"
Hope, who had been scampering behind, suddenly hugged my waist tight. Her trembling from fear was just like a puppy—adorable. I gripped her hand firmly so she wouldn't let go.
"This way, we won't separate."
"Never let go, okay."
Maybe this was designed as a shelter. Empty because the world ended before it got filled. Plausible.
The chat fights intensified. Sigh, just stop already. Why are they like this? The room's vibe maybe? Familiar to us, but creepy to newcomers.
"If it's hard to watch, just don't."
What? I meant no need to force-watch while we're here. But it came off totally wrong. Then, a faint unfamiliar noise echoed from the room.
"Unnie?"
"It's fine. But no matter what, hold my hand tight. Don't let go."
"Got it."
The chat froze too, just question and exclamation marks. I heightened my guard, ready to draw my gun anytime. Broken robot wandering? Or a survivor like that one time? Whatever, stay alert—could be dangerous.
Embarrassingly, we reached the opposite entrance safely, nerves on edge for nothing.
Same complaints echoed, but the noise's source never showed. What was it? Shoving the question aside, we exited the opposite entrance.
Pop~
"P-pop... con-grats... con. Congrats... on completing... the §☆※ Room Experience Hall."
I nearly shot the robot that popped out but stopped my finger. What experience hall? Looking around, five robots surrounded us, clumsily dancing and humming. Each glitched—jerky moves, choppy voices. What the hell are these?
"Ph-photo... sesh..."
They guided us to a dusty life-size statue monster setup. No props, but one mimicked taking photos repeatedly.
"Ah, six... re-main-ing... re-main-ing... courses... en-joy them... please..."
Like done with their tasks, the robots returned to spots and powered down, motionless. I scratched my head.
"Where are we?"
"Th-this is... ☆#@. Thrill-ing... and fun... com-plete all... courses... for a prize..."
"What do we do here?"
"Th-this is... ☆#@. Thrill-ing... and fun... com-plete all... courses... for a prize..."
"Any other live people besides us?"
"Th-this is... ☆#@. Thrill-ing... and fun... com-plete all... courses... for a prize..."
Totally broken. Stuttering wasn't enough—they looped the same line. Just trash around.
"Unnie, what are those robots?"
"Guide bots, probably. Already wrecked beyond repair."
"Where'd it say this is?"
"A play place, I bet."
"A play place?!"
Curiosity lit up Hope's face, erasing her fear. Her helmet bobbed excitedly as she looked around. I lightly tapped it.
"Wanna check the rest?"
"Let's go!"
Yeah, moments like this happen. We visited the remaining courses the robots mentioned. More busted guides repeating the same lines. The facilities were rundown like the first. Less "playing," more "sightseeing." But in a world without fun, new sights are welcome. Hope was thrilled.
We completed all courses, but no prize as promised. Expected, but still a bit empty. Before leaving, we sat on a bench to rest.
"Isn't it tragic, waiting endlessly in a place no one visits anymore?"
Once bustling, now abandoned. Robots sticking to programming, guarding spots, awaiting guests indefinitely. Pitiful—maybe 'cause I relate.
Pathetic state, but we came—so their wait wasn't pointless. Even if we're the last, greeting someone satisfies them. That's how I'd see it.
Popularity breeds jealousy. The sudden live stream drew all sorts. Many loved the serene vibe of the lovely girl and cute kid wandering ruined cities. But haters existed too—disliking her rising fame, pretty face, very existence. They spread malicious hate across SNS.
Like a pebble killing life, hate can kill content. Fans enjoying the stream worried it'd hurt her feelings and end abruptly.
Then, a broadcast unlike the usual apoc vibe played: snow roads, ruins, eerie corridor, repeating rooms—like trendy ones. Fears of a setting change were huge.
"If it's hard to watch, just don't."
Twisted as "Don't like? GTFO," haters swarmed to trash the channel. Fans were disappointed too. But exiting the room revealed classic apoc broken facilities and robots. Then it clicked: her firm resolve not to be swayed externally.
Fans' trust solidified; antis gnashed their teeth or whatever.