Game of Higher Hands - My Name is Jax

I am Jax.

I am not a hero. I am not a soldier. I am not a good man.

People like to put names on me, but I don’t care. I just live in this broken world and try to stay alive… and sometimes I make things more fun.

Yes, fun. That is the word I like.

Because this world is not normal. It is not stable. It changes all the time.

The world broke a long time ago.

Nobody knows the exact day. People just say: “One day, the sky changed.”

After that, things started to appear.

Dead cities.

Empty zones.

Strange places where rules are different.

Sometimes people go inside and never come out.

Sometimes they come out… but not the same.

We call it “the Shift”.

I don’t know who made it. Maybe nobody made it. Maybe the world just gave up.

I live in a place that still looks like a city.

But it is not safe.

There are three kinds of groups in this world.

First, the governments. They still try to control things. They act like they are in charge. They build walls, send teams, and study the Shift.

Second, the so-called “good people”. They believe they can save the world. They form teams. They go into danger zones. They think hope is enough.

It is not enough.

Third… people like me.

Not team. Not system. Not hero.

We just move around and do what we want.

I don’t like rules.

Rules are just things other people use to control you.

So I don’t follow them.

But I also don’t destroy everything. That would be boring.

I like balance. I like seeing what happens when people think they are smart… and then they are not.

Maybe that makes me a bad guy. Maybe not.

I don’t care.

Today, I am sitting on top of an old bus station roof.

The city below me is quiet, but not peaceful.

I can see people moving fast. Soldiers from the government. White armor. Clean guns. Serious faces.

They are going to the east zone again.

Another “dead city” opened last night.

That means more people will go in.

And maybe fewer will come out.

I swing my legs over the edge and smile a little.

“Another bad day for someone,” I say to myself.

My phone is broken, but still works sometimes.

I get a message from a contact named “M”.

Short name. I like short names.

“East zone open. Government team moving in. Stay away.”

I laugh.

Stay away?

That is exactly why I should go.

If everyone goes left, I go right. If everyone runs out, I walk in.

That is just how I am.

ENTP, I think people would call it. I talk too much, I think too fast, I get bored easily.

So I create my own problems.

I stand up and stretch.

The wind is hot. The sky is grey. Not dark, not bright. Just tired.

I jump down from the roof.

Three floors.

Normal people use stairs.

I don’t.

I land, knees bend, small pain in my legs. Nothing serious.

I walk into the street like nothing happened.

Nobody stops me. People here know me. Or they pretend not to.

That is safer.

On the way to the east zone, I pass a checkpoint.

Soldiers stop people. They check ID. They scan faces.

I just walk through the side alley.

No one sees me.

Or maybe they see me and decide not to care.

Both are fine.

The east zone is outside the city wall.

The wall is huge. Metal. Old tech. Built after the world broke.

Outside the wall is where “Shift zones” appear.

Today, I see it already.

The air looks wrong. Like heat above fire. But it is not fire.

The ground has cracks with light inside them.

People call it a “dead city entrance”.

I call it a door that should not exist.

A group of government soldiers is already there.

They are preparing to go in.

I stand behind a broken car and watch them.

One of them speaks:

“Team Alpha, move in. Keep formation. Do not split.”

Very serious.

Very boring.

They always talk like that before something goes wrong.

And something always goes wrong.

I see another group too.

They are not soldiers.

They wear different clothes. Mixed style. Some have backpacks. Some carry weapons they made themselves.

These are the “good people”.

They look nervous, but excited.

One of them says:

“We can save whoever is inside. We just need to be fast.”

I almost laugh out loud.

Save everyone?

This world does not work like that.

I step forward a little.

Someone notices me.

A girl from the “good group” looks at me.

She frowns.

“Who are you?” she asks.

I smile.

That is a good question.

“I am just someone watching,” I say.

“That is not an answer.”

I nod. “It is for me.”

She does not like me.

Good.

That means she is paying attention.

The entrance starts to change.

The cracks in the ground grow bigger.

The air shakes.

A sound comes out. Like metal bending. Like the world is being pulled apart.

Everyone gets quiet.

Even the soldiers stop talking.

This is the moment before things become real.

I feel it again.

That strange feeling.

Like the world is not one thing. Like it is layers.

Some people say there is a system behind all this.

A “manager”.

A “judge”.

A “higher mind”.

I don’t know if that is true.

But I know one thing.

Someone is watching.

Because nothing this big happens by accident.

The first soldier steps into the zone.

Light swallows him.

Then the second.

Then the rest.

The “good group” follows.

Always the same pattern.

People think going in means they are brave.

Sometimes it just means they are early.

I stay outside.

For now.

I like to watch first.

Understanding comes before action.

That is my rule.

The only rule I follow.

The entrance fully opens.

The dead city inside is visible now.

Tall buildings, broken roads, silent air.

No sound.

No life.

But not empty.

Never empty.

Something is always inside.

Waiting.

I take one step forward.

Then I stop.

I smile again.

“Alright,” I say quietly.

“Let’s see what kind of mess this one is.”

And I walk in.

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