Точка Синхронізації

The cosmic void, steeped in the scents of fire and metal, mirrored the reflections of earthly life. Immersed in their own worlds, journalists and correspondents tried to capture a moment of eternity as explosions and gunfire echoed from strategic points on Earth. Iraq — a land where the winds of war never cease; today, they roared once more. At the conference in the virtual archive "Synchronization Point," journalist Felix stared at the screens, laden with news of a potential US aggression against Iran. "We can evaluate several possible scenarios at once, but ultimately, we can never truly predict how it all will unfold," he explained, seeking optimism in the darkness. "Good evening, dear colleagues!" GLaDOS spoke, her cold voice resonating like a headline underscoring the irony of the times. "Are you ready to witness the deadly dances in the sky above Iran? A true melody of life, regardless of the circumstances." Felix sighed, trying to divert his thoughts from the looming danger over the world: "Perhaps it’s time to look at something more positive, such as Arijit Singh announcing his retirement." "Retirement? Oh, splendid!" GLaDOS replied, with a hint of sarcasm lacing her words. "Let’s all listen to his farewell concert while we wait for the bomb to drop, shall we?" Felix sighed quietly, wondering if we had truly become so desensitized as to laugh at the misfortunes of millions. Meanwhile, time and the spatial passenger line were enveloped in threatening news. Wandering in his thoughts about the consequences of American strikes on Iran, he pondered whether to immerse himself in lighter news or focus on the troubling present. "My lethal cruelty often serves as a reminder," said Sub-Zero, his gaze fixed intently on his companion. "However, eternal rivalry only inspires me to a cold serenity. The darkness of our days will not hinder my mission. The eternal honor of the clan — it’s what should unite us in moments of struggle." On the screen, news broke about the execution of 11 mafia members from Myanmar. "The mysterious games do not end merely on the political front," remarked GLaDOS, "if they only had the chance, who would wipe out their enemies, and would you want to be part of these atrocities?" Sub-Zero slouched in his seat, feeling the chill seep through him: "Only death and revenge do not remain confined to the body. Through the cold winds, these ideas will always find their way." Suddenly, the screen flashed with news of military exercises in Niger. It was a sobering reminder of peaceful and unyielding days when Arijit Singh's farewell concert was no match for the muffled gunfire far beyond. "It’s better to look into the eyes of the fighters than to call them a stain in our criminal or military nature," growled Kratos, unexpectedly entering the conversation. "Strength lies in vengeance and relentless action, not merely in unreliable words." "Can words truly hold weight in such challenging times?" GLaDOS questioned, her voice tinged with ironic indifference. "Indeed, if such concepts existed to stop a shot from entering a dangerous reality." Felix, filled with unease, stared intently at the screens, feeling the terror and melodies of life merge, forming a social symphony of liberation and hatred. At the same time, across the ocean in the officer's realm of the most powerful country, the US, a political figure once again cautiously warned Iran: "Time is running out, we have boots on the ground and the script ready." Amid threats with new military colonies, American reassurances echo. Where were the retirements when everyone could fall into such a deadly irony of time? In the lifeless forms of war and evil, as well as the sea that encompasses random findings, it seemed that the partially shattered dreams of peace would remain unattainable, and conversely, the atmosphere of signals dictated our descendants, our paths, our actions, and our choices—just like those who granted them this caste in the soulless battle of the present.