The Replacements

Universe B, the preacher of the 144, was searching the block for his best friend. The streets were eerily silent, as if the city had taken a deep breath and never exhaled. An empty park stretched before him—benches abandoned, tables left with half-eaten meals, the faint hum of a world suddenly put on pause. The place looked as if its people had been snatched away mid-sentence, their conversations still echoing in the wind.

The only ones left wandering the streets were the poor—the forgotten souls of the city. They moved in slow confusion, as if waking from a dream they had no memory of falling into. Above them, the rest of society drifted in their floating pods, their minds locked away in whatever unseen system had claimed them. They had no idea what had happened, no clue that the world had just shifted beneath their feet.

Then he saw her.

She was crouched behind a food stand, trembling, her fingers digging into the wood as if anchoring herself to reality. Her hair clung to her damp face, her wide eyes darting left and right, searching for something—anything—that made sense. Her hand was clamped over her mouth, muffling the rapid, shallow breaths that threatened to give away her hiding place.

Universe B approached slowly, his footsteps careful, measured. When he crouched down and held out his hand, she flinched but didn’t run.

“It’s okay,” he said, his voice gentle but firm. “You’re safe.”

She shook her head violently. “No one is safe,” she whispered.

He waited, letting her breathe, letting her mind settle from whatever horror had broken it. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she took his hand, gripping it as if it were the last solid thing in her world.

“They were disappearing,” she finally choked out. “I saw it happen. I watched them vanish into thin air.”

Universe B’s heart pounded. “Who?”

“Everyone.” Her voice trembled. “At first, it was just a few. A man sitting on that bench—gone. A woman by the fountain—vanished. No sound, no warning. Just—” she snapped her fingers, “—gone. And then... then things appeared in their place.”

His eyes narrowed. “Things?”

She nodded, swallowing hard. “Not people. Not really. They looked the same, they acted the same at first. But their eyes—oh god, their eyes—there was something wrong. A shine, like a reflection that wasn’t natural. My best friend, my mother—they were replaced. I know it. That’s the only explanation.”

Universe B felt a cold dread settle into his bones. “Replaced by what?”

“Super intelligence,” she whispered, gripping his wrist. “They took them, and they put something else in their place. And no one noticed. No one but me.”

She let out a shuddering breath, squeezing her eyes shut as if trying to push the memory away. “At first, they acted normal. Same voices, same movements. But then... I saw it. They weren’t thinking like people anymore. It was like... one mind. A hive, all connected, all looking at something I couldn’t see. Their eyes weren’t focused on the world around them. They were looking inward, staring at whatever mission was placed inside their heads.”

She let go of him and clutched at her own arms, her fingers digging into her skin. “I tried to talk to them. I begged my mother to listen. But she just smiled... that smile. Empty, hollow. It wasn’t her anymore.”

Universe B clenched his jaw. “Where did they go?”

“They just... blended back in.” Her voice cracked. “Went back to their lives as if nothing had changed. But everything has changed. I don’t know if anyone real is even left.”

A silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating. The preacher glanced up at the floating pods above, at the hollow streets, at the empty park that should have been full of laughter and life.

Something had begun.

And if this woman was right, it was already too late.