It all started with a craving for instant noodles and a very questionable sense of timing.
I woke up fifteen minutes before my alarm, which was already a personal betrayal. My bed had never felt softer, the weather was gloomy in the best "stay home and do nothing" kind of way, and yet, there I was—awake, hungry, and dumb enough to think I could sneak a quick trip to the store in my pajamas without any consequences.
Spoiler: there were consequences.
I live in a quiet part of town where nothing happens except occasional cat gossip and mysterious Wi-Fi names like "PrettyFlyForAWiFi." So, when I stepped out onto the sidewalk in my hoodie, sweatpants, and one sock (don't ask), I didn't expect much. Just a casual walk to the corner store, some ramen, and maybe a chocolate bar if I felt like living dangerously.
Instead, I got a truck.
Now, I'd love to tell you the truck appeared out of nowhere, but the truth is I was looking at my phone. I was trying to refresh a page. My mobile data had died dramatically hours earlier, and all I wanted was to download the rest of my podcast before facing humanity. But right when I stepped off the curb, my screen froze, and the truck—well, it didn't.
Time slowed down, as it does in all near-death experiences and soap operas. I looked up. The driver's eyes widened. My brain processed about seventeen thoughts in half a second:
Wow, that's a big truck.
Why is it speeding in a school zone?
I hope someone clears my browser history.
I never finished that anime.
So this is how I die? In one sock?
And then, everything stopped.
Literally. Froze.
Not in the "my life flashed before my eyes" kind of way. I mean the air stopped moving. The leaves on the trees stopped rustling. The truck hung in midair like it was suspended in jelly. Even the fly that had been buzzing near my ear was now hovering like a confused drone.
And then—because fate apparently has a sense of humor—a notification appeared in front of me.
Yes, a notification. Like a pop-up ad. In the middle of my death.
Cosmic Contract Opportunity
You are scheduled to die in 4.3 seconds.
Would you like to exchange your fate for unlimited EtherNet™ access?
[ACCEPT] [DECLINE]
Standard mystical roaming charges may apply.
I blinked.
"This is a prank," I said out loud, to nobody in particular. "This is what I get for not reading the terms and conditions last time I updated my phone."
The pop-up remained. The ACCEPT button gently pulsed like it was mocking me.
"Is this spam?" I asked the frozen world. "Am I dying and getting scammed at the same time?"
Then a second message appeared:
Disclaimer: Your fate is non-refundable. No takebacks. No exchanges. No warranty. Wi-Fi signal may vary by dimension.
"Well, that's just rude."
I looked at the truck again. Still hovering. I looked at my phone. Still frozen. I looked at the pulsing ACCEPT button.
I did what any modern, internet-starved millennial would do.
I tapped ACCEPT.
There was a brief moment of silence. Then, the world gave a very audible ding, like I'd just leveled up in a game I didn't know I was playing.
The notification vanished. The frozen truck dissolved into smoke. My phone lit up with full bars and a brand-new app: Destiny Router™.
And I was still alive.
Still standing in the middle of the street in one sock, hoodie, and shock. But alive.
"Congratulations!" a voice said in my head, far too cheerful for someone who just witnessed their own death get ghosted. "You've successfully traded your fate for eternal Wi-Fi access. You are now a proud subscriber to the EtherNet™."
"The what?" I asked, because that definitely didn't sound like my phone plan.
"The EtherNet™! The interdimensional network that connects you to everything, everywhere, all at once. No data caps, no contracts, no fate. Just vibes."
"Vibes?" I repeated, blinking rapidly. "Wait. What do you mean no fate?"
"Exactly what it sounds like," the voice said. "You've opted out of your predestined path. Free will unlocked. Congratulations on your existential promotion!"
I stared at my phone, which now had apps like Portal Finder, Afterlife Chat, and Gods4U. My battery was at 100%, and the signal said ∞.
I was still confused. And a little cold. One sock, remember?
"But—what now? I just walk away? Death's just... canceled?"
"Oh, no," the voice said brightly. "You've merely postponed it. Eternally. As long as you keep your EtherNet subscription active, you're off the grid."
"You're telling me I can't die... as long as I have Wi-Fi?"
"Precisely."
"And if I lose signal?"
"Well... then your fate resumes. With interest."
A chill ran down my spine. I suddenly felt very motivated to never enter a tunnel or basement again.
I walked back to my apartment in a daze, ramen completely forgotten. My phone buzzed nonstop with system notifications I didn't understand, and a welcome email from something called The Universal Tech Support Collective. Apparently, I had a new "life plan," and it came with free cloud storage and… metaphysical spam filters?
I didn't know what any of it meant.
But one thing was clear: I had traded my fate for Wi-Fi.
And now, I owed the universe some serious bandwidth.