As Alex and Achilles collapsed, the Furies, who seemed to be expecting such an event, softly whispered "Sweet dreams."

____________________________________________________________________________

Hello, my name's Alex, 34 years of age.

I was recently promoted to Senior Manager at Basic Corpo Corporation LLC.

Thanks to our hard work, our boss was finally able to purchase his dream car. To celebrate this and my 10 years at the company, I was promoted and now enjoy fewer work hours per week and an appreciated salary boost.

I remember thanking the boss profusely when Human Resources announced my promotion and he responded in the most inspirational way possible "It's alright. Keep working hard, I want to buy a private jet next year."

What a nice boss!

Seeing my colleague's(now my juniors) looks of envy, these years of hard work suddenly felt worth it.

The other day, we received a new intern, freshly graduated from university, a pure soul who hasn't made a single step into the steep and risky corporate ladder yet.

"Please take care of me." The new intern said.

He continued "But isn't 55 hours of work a week, a bit much?"

As soon as he said, I remember everyone in the office, including me, turned around and glared at him.

Fair labor rights were a taboo subject in this battlefield, and if he were to be reported to HR, his only chance at climbing the corporate ladder would be lost forever.

I took the youngster to the side and personally spoke to him.

"Youngling, in this world, you work endlessly until your back collapses and sleep becomes a luxury, and keep up at that for a decade or two, and only then will you be able to work less." I told him bluntly.

I'm pretty sure I had a scary expression on my face, as the intern paled and his once straight and determined posture lost its strength and turned droopy.

That was the reaction I was hoping for.

After all, who was he to demand good working conditions when I had to suffer every step of the way to get to where I am right now.

However, I then flashed the bright(dishonest) smile I greet the colleagues I dislike and reassured him "But don't worry, you'll survive and then you can make a lot of money that you can spend on...."

I paused.

I did not know what he could spend that money on. I really did not know what fulfilling things could be bought with money.

The intern looked confused at my sudden silence.

I coughed and said "luxury cars and trips to Switzerland?"

"And just work hard. Our boss wants to buy a private jet so we need to be able to fulfill that wish of his."

The intern didn't seem too convinced but my job here was over so I tapped him on the shoulder, wished him good luck, and went back to my office. historical

It was a rather pleasant and spacious office, that offered a sky view of the big and lush park downtown.

I sat down on my desk and got back to work on my computer, which was the newest and most expensive model.

I think I wanted to try processing lots of fun stuff with this computer's increased performance, but now that I got it, I didn't really care much.

And so the day continued.

When it was already dark outside, I left my office.

I was going to leave for home, whereas the lower-ranked employees and the intern from earlier were all still working hard, as their eyes were red from staring at a screen all day.

They looked at me, leaving the building so early, with immense jealousy.

I pretended I didn't care about it, and just walked away.

I called the elevator and went down to the garage, listlessly staring through the glass panes of the window into the night cityscape.

In the garage, I unlocked my car and sat on the front seat.

This was the newest BNV and I don't remember why I even bought it, but I think it was because this was my boss's old car and he looked really cool riding it, and I had some money to spend.

I drove out of the garage and going through the sprawling city, I parked in front of a bar that I had become a regular patron of.

Entering into the bar, it was quite full, of employees who just left work and all wore the same expensive suits as me and drove the same luxury cars as me.

This is why I motivated myself to work harder, so one day I can park here with a car they could never afford, and look on as their jaws opened wide in astonishment.

Giggling at the thought of it, I sat down in my usual seat, and the bartender, a kind and wise man in his fifties greeted me.

"Good evening, Alex. Same as usual?"

I usually ordered some beer to chug down, but today I wanted something different.

"Get me the strongest whiskey you have," I said.

The bartender nodded and went to the back, preparing my drink.

As I was waiting, I noticed a man in a hoodie looking at me.

Seeing that I noticed his gaze, he smiled and approached me.

"Care to buy some merchandise? I have some really high-quality stuff today." He told me.

I smiled a cunning smile.

Recently, to find another way to somehow spend my newly-earned money, I started buying this 'psychoactive stimulant' from this man.

It felt really weird consuming it, and I saw visions of gods and goddesses and alternate worlds and other strange hallucinations.

I wasn't sure of the legality of purchasing this 'thing', but I knew I could avoid legal repercussions.

I bought a few grams of the weird substance from the man, and he said "Always great to work with you." and walked away.

Deep down, I knew that I was doing something wrong and what the proper name for this was, but I didn't want to admit it.

The bartender then came back with my drink ready.

I flushed the whiskey down my throat and gulped it as I felt the burning sensation I could never get used to circulating throughout my body.

A few minutes later, my vision started getting a bit blurry and I seemed to forget that tomorrow was a workday and that I even had any responsibilities for that matter.

I paid the bartender and then left.

I was sure I shouldn't drive while in this state, but I entered the car nonetheless.

I was a bit disoriented as I drove through the now-empty streets, but I somehow made it back home safely.

My house was a reasonably big villa in the suburbs.

Before leaving the house, I looked at the small plastic bag I had in my pocket, the one I purchased from the shady man.

I didn't feel like using it.

I now wondered why I even bought it. There was really no reason.

Had money become such a light thing to me? That spending large amounts of it became a convenience?

I felt miserable, I hated this heavy weight I had in my heart.

What was I even saying?

I'm really happy.

Really really happy. I make lots of money, and have the job of my...dreams?

I can buy....expensive cars? What for?

I entered my house.

I was married and had kids.

My wife was a woman that didn't demand too much, only asking for free access to my credit card.

We didn't meet too much, and the only time we spent together was when we would pleasure each other.

As I went upstairs, I saw a kid looking through the narrow sliver formed by the almost closed door.

That was our son.

I didn't have time to spend with him, so I instead bought him toys and subscriptions to streaming services and other such entertainment.

I ignored him and entered my room.

The big bed in the center of my room seemed to attract me with the gravity of a black hole.

As I stretched on the bed, I slept.

In the middle of the night, however, I woke up. My body felt sluggish and my head was hurting way too much.

This was probably because I drank a lot.

I woke up because of a sharp repetitive sound I heard.

That should be my wife, who just entered, and she seemed to be wearing high heels.

I heard her voice.

"Honey, you know you can't be here~~!"

Honey? Was she calling me?

Strangely, though, I heard the voice of another man, who answered her.

"Look at the time, babe. He won't know anything."

"Well, you're right."

What was going on here?

I think I figured it out.

A few weeks ago, I found boots that were men's size in the room.

When I asked my wife, she told me it was just the gardener, who came in and wanted to rest.

But I now know what is going on.

I stood up, walking slowly towards the door. As I opened it, my suspicions were confirmed.

There she was, with a man hugging her from the waist, and the two were leaning on each other, kissing passionately in the midst of my own house.

This was ridiculous.

As 'my wife' opened her eyes and took sight of me, she pushed the man off of her and screamed "Alex!"

I couldn't bear this.

I screamed, "YOU TWO, LEAVE THIS HOUSE IMMEDIATELY!"

The man, who still seemed in a trance, looked at him, dumbfounded, and the 'woman' tugged at his clothes and they left the house.

There, from the narrow sliver of his room, my son was still watching us, with a poker face that I couldn't discern emotions from.

I ran down the staircase and opened the cabinet in our kitchen.

There were numerous alcohol bottles there. And in my own pockets, I took out the drugs I bought earlier and consumed everything immediately.

I then chugged down many many bottles of strong alcohol.

I hated this life.

I hated myself.

I hated everything.

A few minutes later, the effects started to kick in.

Unlike the usual, I felt my vision darkening and I couldn't stand straight anymore.

....

....

....

"HE HAS OVERDOSED! PARAMEDICS, COME HELP US!"

As I barely opened my voices, I noticed I was on a bed in a fast-moving vehicle surrounded by people wearing white aprons and a horde of medical equipment.

And that was the last thing I saw.

__________________________________________________________________

Alex, who was still collapsed on the door, opened his eyes.

He was covered in a cold sweat, and his face was red.

Achilles, who was already awake and on his side, helped him up and asked him "Are you doing okay?"

"I had a nightmare. A horrible nightmare." Alex said with wide eyes.

Achilles responded, "Me too."

The two then heard the voice of the Furies and turned around.

"Already awake? That's a shame, we wanted to have more fun."

They continued "Well, we promised we'd let you pass."

As they stopped speaking, the three monstrous women walked by them and entered the tunnel on the other side, leaving Achilles and Alex alone in the temple.

Alex was still gasping for breath and holding onto his arrhythmically beating heart.

Achilles then stated, "When you feel better, let's move on."

Alex nodded, also noticing that Achilles didn't seem to be doing all that well too.

He was shaking heavily and his feet were fidgeting in anxiety, even though he seemed to want to hide it.