Simulated | Teen Ink

Simulated

October 24, 2017
By HIGHNOOT BRONZE, Hemet, California
HIGHNOOT BRONZE, Hemet, California
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

The plan took years, and the bomb took longer. Musk imagined it in his head, over and over, like a broken record player. Twelve megatons of C4, two-thousand ballistic missiles, four nuclear bombs (confiscated from North Korea), two dynamite sticks, and a one-hundred foot by one-hundred foot solid block of uranium just for good measure, all duct-taped together. A single detonator, marked by a big red button with the word “DETONATOR” written on it, marked the end, or rebirth of the known world. No one but Musk knew what he was doing, but the scientists followed suit anyway, because they were getting paid twenty dollars an hour.
Musk’s footsteps echoed the now silent room, as scientists of all ethnicities and ages glanced nervously at each other. A sense of uncertainty filled the room. What is this bomb for? What are we doing with it? What is Elon thinking? “Gentleman, please calm down,” Musk said, reviewing their concerned faces. “I know what you’re wondering. ‘Elon, why are you blowing up this big bomb that could kill everybody?’ Well, gentleman, I think it’s finally time I told you the truth. It is my firm belief that this world isn’t real. It’s all simulated, and when I detonate this bomb, we will all be free from it!” Faint gasps from the scientists filled the quiet air. “I know. It sounds stupid, but the only way to be ejected from the simulation, is to destroy the simulation itself.” The uncertainty in the room quickly turned to anger, as the scientists had been working for a madman all along. Musk quickly  approached the bomb’s detonator. “Now, if you will all trust me on this, it’s time to detonate this bom-” He uttered out, before being knocked unconscious by a wooden stool. “No way I’m letting you kill us all with your stupid ideas,” a scientist screamed, stool still in hand. “Hey, idiot! You just knocked out the man who pays our bills,” another scientist retorted. “I saved your life,” the first argued. “No you did NOT,” and a microscope quickly found its way into the face of the assaulter.
An all-out war started, with each man being given a limitless supply of makeshift office weaponry. Coffee mugs, clipboards, and even other scientists were being chucked and bludgeoned at one another. Musk woke up in the middle of the commotion. Somebody had used him as a human projectile, and he was now lying face up on a shattered glass table. He flipped off of the table, and scooted through the rubble. He went prone in an attempt to stealthily make his way to the detonator. He carefully crawled across the room, avoiding the raging scientists around him, and he scanned the room for the location of the detonator. Spotting it, he used what little breath he had left to crawl for it. For being smart, the scientists sure made a dumb move, as the detonator lay unguarded, and Musk was ready to sprint for it. “Hey, the madman woke back up!” All eyes and hands stopped, and turned to face the injured Musk. “Get him!”
Musk knew this was his last chance. He used what little strength he had to push himself up. He sprinted towards the detonator. He felt the air around him. Supercharged with his scientific drive and the reeking of sweat. His legs moved fast, a blur to those around him. The world slowed down. Seconds became minutes, and Musk intimately focused on the big red button. A scene straight out of the Matrix began to build around him. Chairs, mugs, computers and other junk whizzed by his head. The detonator was inches away. He could feel its high quality, Musk-brand steel under his fingers. His large hands pressed the button slowly as the world around him realized what he had done. The bomb stilled for a moment, before quickly exploding.

Jesus freezed as his gaze went from the world in his monitor to the small error box. Universe.exe has stopped working. “Hey dad! Something's wrong with the computer!”


The author's comments:

Inspired by a reddit writing prompt.


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