Hello. My name is Halder.
I was on my way to work.
Each step made me cringe. What was I doing with my life? Building a bridge to an empty grave.
Work. Sleep. Repeat. That isn't life, it's a slow rehearsal for death.
But death is an ending. Clean. Finite.
The sky went black behind me. Not night. Absence.
A shockwave pressed me flat against the pavement. The dark didn't swallow me whole. It cut precisely at the knees. Not by will.
Everything in that dark vanished. The cars. The sidewalk. The people walking behind me. My legs.
I didn't die.
I heard ambulances weaving through the scream of missiles. The city was burning, but I was freezing.
I woke up in a hospital bed, staring at a flat sheet where my lower half should be.
They say we were built to move forward. To strive. To climb.
Now I am anchored. Permanent. A monument to a god who couldn't be bothered to finish the job.
Is this fate worse than death?
No.
It's death with a mirror. I can see myself breathing, and I despise every remaining inch.
I used to fear the end. Now I fear the silence of the morning, when the nurses check my pulse, and I realize my heart is still stubbornly, pointlessly beating.
The angel didn't take my life.
04 // POINT? signifies the question that survival asks when meaning has already left. The angel did not take Halder's legs by will. It did not notice him at all. The dark cut at the knees precisely, but not out of cruelty, out of indifference. Halder was simply in the way of something that was not looking at him. The episode asks: what is the point of a life that cannot move toward anything? If death was the feared end, what do we call this, death with a mirror?