Work Text:
Seth sat in his lab, forcing his tired eyes open as he slumped in his chair, staring intently at the window running on his computer screen. He couldn’t wait to see the results of his experiment, even though… even though he’d lost track of how many days he hadn’t slept. Three days? Maybe longer? It didn’t matter to Seth. After all, what could possibly be more important than this experiment? He had been conducting a series of complex tests over the past few days, and now, finally, the results were within reach.
Determined to witness the outcome firsthand, Seth chose to stay seated in front of the computer, convinced the process would be quick—or at least proceed at a normal pace. Yet, the cursed progress bar crawled at a painfully slow speed. He had been sitting there for what felt like an eternity, only to see it reach a mere 23%.
In truth, he could have walked away for a proper meal or a good night’s sleep, but he refused. If he left and the results finished processing suddenly, he wouldn’t be there to witness the moment his research bore fruit.
He fought to stay awake, despite his overwhelming fatigue. Perhaps he could make himself a cup of coffee to clear his head before the results appeared, but even that was out of the question—for the same reason as before.
-
Why the hell is this progress so slow?
Seth muttered curses under his breath, staring at the sluggish progress bar that was moving so slowly it seemed like it wasn’t moving at all. Even though he was desperate to see the results, he couldn’t help but feel irritated. Waiting is part of the process, he thought, though it didn’t make the experience any less frustrating—or maddening.
Hours passed, or perhaps it wasn’t even that long. Time felt distorted, as if minutes stretched into hours. The progress bar barely moved, advancing by two or three percent at most. Maybe just a few pixels. Seth’s exhaustion deepened—not physical exhaustion, but a mental fatigue that made staying alert increasingly difficult.
His vision blurred, signaling the onset of sleep.
He clenched his left hand with his heavy right hand, trying to stay awake. He wanted so badly to witness the results as soon as they appeared, no matter how tired he was. He pinched his hand again, harder this time, but it was futile. Before he knew it—whether minutes or seconds had passed—darkness swallowed his consciousness.
-
Levia walked toward Seth’s lab, research data in hand. Their experiments were separate yet part of the same project. At first, they both wanted to claim the research for themselves, but somehow they ended up splitting the workload. Now, she was heading to share her findings with Seth to compile their data. Their labs weren’t far apart—a short walk down a corridor and a right turn—but the two rarely interacted beyond their respective work.
“Seth, I’ve got my results—”
Levia knocked on the door. No response. Waiting wasn’t an option, so she turned the unlocked knob and stepped inside. She was about to announce her findings when she saw Seth slumped over his desk, asleep. She walked closer, set her documents down, and pulled up a chair next to him. His dark circles were painfully obvious, even to someone like her, who wasn’t exactly diligent about sleeping. For some reason, she felt the urge to tell him not to sleep like this.
Her instinct was to wake him up and discuss their results immediately—there was so much more she wanted to research, and she had no time to waste. She extended a hand to shake him awake but stopped when she saw the progress bar on his computer. He must have fallen asleep waiting for the results. Before she realized it, she had already removed his glasses and placed them aside. Even she didn’t understand why she did it. She could have simply left the documents on his desk and returned to her lab to continue her own work.
But she didn’t.
-
When Seth woke up, the first thing he noticed was Levia. His coworker, working on the same project, was asleep at the same desk, though on a different part of it. He’d been the first to fall asleep and the first to wake up. Her presence meant her results must be ready. He wanted to check them right away but found his body still sluggish from sleep. Instead, he decided to sit and fully wake up before disturbing her.
He could have woken her up immediately, asked for her data, and started compiling everything. Speaking of results, Seth glanced at his computer screen.
88%
Almost there. But it had taken ages to get from 23% to this point. How long had he been asleep? The question lingered in his mind.
Noticing his blurry vision, Seth reached for his glasses and realized they’d been removed and placed nearby. He hadn’t taken them off before passing out. That meant… He glanced at the sleeping woman beside him, pondered for a moment, then quietly left the lab.
-
Levia woke up sometime later to find the man who had been asleep at the desk gone. She was more concerned about the fact that she’d fallen asleep herself. Then again, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept properly. Her focus had been entirely on producing results. After all, what was more important—sleep or research? To her, the answer was obvious.
The smell of coffee caught her attention. Turning her head, she saw Seth returning with two cups of coffee. He was already wearing the glasses she had taken off earlier.
“Well, you’re awake.”
“You were the one who fell asleep first.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Seth placed one of the cups on the desk in front of her before sitting back down in his chair. She took a sip, as did he.
After waking, Seth had remembered his earlier thought about making coffee. So he did. He could have just made one cup for himself—he wasn’t the type to go out of his way for others—but he ended up making two. Was he a mad scientist? Even Seth didn’t know for sure. After all, every lunatic claims they’re perfectly sane, don’t they?
“Seth, my results—”
“Have you reviewed them?”
“No, not yet.”
Levia reached for the documents she’d brought but hesitated when Seth asked if she’d looked at the data. Curious, she asked why he wanted to know, but he didn’t answer. Instead, he offered her the same insincere smile he always wore, took another sip of coffee, and gestured toward his computer screen.
98%
…
Time dragged on. Their coffees were nearly finished. Silence hung between them, but neither seemed inclined to break it. They just kept staring at the progress bar. Levia started to grow bored. It wasn’t that she disliked waiting; she was used to the lengthy process of research. But this time, the wait felt excruciating. She tried to coax the last drops of coffee from her cup, then set it aside. As she reached for her documents, Seth’s voice stopped her.
“Levia.”
He was still wearing that fake smile, still holding his nearly empty cup, and motioning toward the screen.
99%.
It was almost over.
Soon, everything would end.
Let’s make everything end.