What is the Hell?

A World Divided: A Hopeful Tragedy

December

A heavy silence hung in the air as Mike stared out the window. His best friend, Jack, plopped down beside him, the usual spring in his step dampened.

"Dude," Jack started, his voice low, "don't you think war is so pointless? People are dying just for an unnecessary piece of land. Children, women, everyone."

Mike didn't respond. The word "war" scraped against the raw wound left by his father's death. He could still hear the explosion, the choked gasp, the blood-curdling screams.

Jack, sensing his friend's turmoil, continued, "Mike? Wars don't make sense to me, but I have to tell you something…" His voice trailed off, replaced by a grimace.

"What happened?" Mike finally managed, his voice tight.

"The 3rd world war broke out. Dude, Russia dropped an atomic bomb on the moon." Jack's words felt surreal, yet the fear in his eyes mirrored Mike's own.

"No. It can't be…" Mike choked out.

"It is," Jack confirmed, his voice heavy. "We need to solve this problem."

Mike's mind raced. They were just kids, barely out of childhood. How could they stop a global conflict?

The next morning, Mike skipped school. He spent two agonizing hours hunched over his desk, formulating a plan. The key, he decided, was communication. He needed to get all the warring nations to the same table.

His first thought went to his friend, a tech whiz known only as "Unknown." Unknown operated in the grey area of the internet, a skilled white-hat hacker who helped others without harming anyone. Mike knew Unknown could send a global message, but was he up for this monumental task?

After hours of internal debate, Mike decided to reach out to Unknown. They met in a secluded café, Mike nervously explaining the situation. Unknown, a wiry figure cloaked in shadows, listened intently.

"Intriguing," he finally said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "But reaching every country leader is a tall order. What if they don't respond?"

Mike had anticipated this. "Plan B," he explained, outlining his alternative method with a determined glint in his eyes.

Unknown, true to his word, broadcasted a message across all available networks. It was a simple plea, cloaked in religious imagery:

> O Son of Man, why are you fighting? Is it not time to end this? We all come from one person. To end this, let's meet at the ***** on January 31, 2025, at 10:00 AM (American time).

>

The Meeting

A month later, anticipation hung heavy in the air. The location – a neutral zone chosen with utmost care – buzzed with activity. As the clock struck ten, disappointment settled upon Mike and Jack's faces. Only 78 out of 200 countries had shown up.

"This isn't enough," Jack whispered, his voice laced with despair.

Mike, however, refused to give up. He stood before the assembled delegates, his voice trembling with a fierce conviction. He spoke of the senseless destruction, the human cost of war, the families torn apart.

One by one, the representatives voiced their grievances. Kurdistan expressed their anger at Turkey's denial of their statehood. Others spoke of border disputes, historical slights, and economic woes.

Jack, ever the pragmatist, saw an opportunity. "You all have problems, connected to each other," he interjected. "Why not deal with each other directly? Divide the land, offer financial assistance, build bridges…"

The Interruption

The discussion was interrupted by a sudden commotion. The Russian delegation had arrived, their presence casting a shadow of unease.

A wave of dread washed over Mike. The sound of the blast door sealing the room seemed to echo his father's dying breath. His head swam, a horrifying déjà vu overwhelming him.

"Jack," he muttered, his voice barely a whisper. "Something happened. I did everything I could to protect you… I can't lose anyone again."

His voice, raw with anguish, resonated with a desperate plea: "Jack… I want to protect you. Jack… I love you more than my life." (This line implies a strong bond, not necessarily romantic.)

Just then, a deafening explosion ripped through the room. As the world dissolved into chaos, a single thought seared through Mike's mind – a memory, a forgotten fragment triggered by the trauma.

In that fleeting moment, Mike screamed. Not a scream of fear,