Obliterate | Everything 4

Then I saw it. A crack in the gray.

I stared at my mother's face. The game's voice said: "You can't save her by keeping her. You know this."

I typed into the void: "Why what?"

New windows appeared. Not scenes— other players . Dozens of them, each in their own gray cube, each staring back at me through their own webcams. They were all ages, all over the world. Some were crying. Some were laughing. One was very calmly eating a sandwich.

And that was the game. For the first hour, I moved through the shard-windows, obliterating. A police station. A wedding. A coral reef. A rocket on a launchpad. A courtroom. A birthday party (children's silhouettes, smaller). Each time, the gray cube. Each time, the flat voice. obliterate everything 4

The voice: "Everything includes you."

I looked at my laptop. The game was still installed. The icon was a plain black square. Then I saw it

And I typed: "Okay." The next morning, my editor called. "Where's the obituary for Obliterate Everything 4 ?"