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A quiet room slowly fades into view. Nothing but the faint sound of a lightbulb persists.


After a few moments, the sound of a door slowly opening provides an escape from the white noise holding firm over the room.


A tall figure enters, just out of camera shot.


A single, very long sigh is heard as the view focuses on the surrounding area. Common niceties are sprinkled throughout the room. Snacks, bottled water, the usual suspects you would expect to find.


The figure rolls an office chair towards him and plants himself dead center on the dark foam. He leans back in the chair, his upper body still obscured.


???: Well, that's ironic.


The view continues to pan around the room, as the empty energy seems to grow with the presence of the figure.


???: Nothing stops for us, we can't stop for nothing.


A few ominous moments pass in the empty room. After a while, the figure leans forward, the view capturing the point of his elbows resting carefully on his knees.


???: Day after day. Week after week.


???: A broken system. A fruitless venture for justice and equality.


???: Tragedy in a world that promises hope.


???: Oppression in a world that asks for optimism.


???: Why do we do this? What is this society we've built for ourselves?


???: Thousands of years of culture, structure, innovation...


???: And this is the best we can do?


The pointed elbows slowly lift from the knees of the figure. They posture forward, knees unbent and feet planted square on the concrete below.


???: Why should I be tasked with spinning this unfair, patronizing, destructive wheel... When I never asked to be born in the first place?


???: For what?


The still form of the figure rests in the empty room. The electric static sound of the bulb above begins to radiate throughout the room, almost as a counter to the unending silence that follows the last question.


After what feels like an eternity spent in a rare moment of peace, the figure speaks again.


???: How valuable is happiness when it's bookended by chaos and sadness?


???: Do these connections hold real value or are they just anchors we create that hold us back from the escape we want?


???: Are we only here to just "get by" until the reaper comes?


???: Does any of this really mean anything?


Suddenly, a notification sound pops up. The view pans slightly to the left to see the office chair positioned near a large computer desk. A flashing orange notification finds a way to glare bright, as the figure turns the chair with his feet.


???: Ah, well...


???: Back to the action.


The figure pushes his long legs out and grips his shoes into the concrete below, pulling himself forward in the chair in front of the computer desk as we fade to black.

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