His family never loved him… or at least, that was what Noah always thought.
He had never really felt the warm comfort parents give their children, and it always left him feeling hollow.
Being an only child born to a family of workaholics, he sometimes wondered if he was just another project for them.
His dad, Adam Davis, was a top-tier construction engineer in charge of most major projects in New York. He was rarely home, always buried in one project or another. His mother, Mary Davis, was a top-class lawyer whose dedication to her job constantly baffled Noah; he had witnessed her place work above family countless times.
The closest thing he had to family was their maid, Isabel Davis — an orphan taken in by his mother when she was just thirteen. The young Mary, fresh out of law school, had been the lawyer in charge of Isabel's parents' brutal gang-related murder case. Perhaps not wanting Isabel to spend her life in foster care, Mary took her in and gave her the family name "Davis."
A couple of years later, Mary had Noah, and Isabel was assigned to be his caretaker, having developed a fondness for the little boy.
"F**k," Noah muttered as he got home. He had just returned from a night out with friends and was exhausted. He didn't even notice how unusually quiet the house was.
"Isabel," he called. "I'm home. I brought some snacks — burgers and tacos." He knew she had an insatiable love for junk food.
"Where are you?" he asked, heading toward her room.
Bang! Bang!
And that was how he died…
No explanation. Nothing.
During the last moments of his life, he didn't feel sadness or regret.
The final thought in his mind was: I didn't get to taste the tacos I bought
Meanwhile, in Oblivion…
Noah's death was noticed by entities whose very existence reshaped laws around them.
....Finally, after eons of waiting. Let it Begin....