🗝️ **THE EDGE OF WORLDS**

ZERO NUMBER
The call when it seems there’s no way out

Debts can be repaid. Friendship — cannot.

The night blanketed the city like a heavy quilt.
On the roof of the skyscraper, the wind was icy and merciless.
But Alex didn’t feel it.

He stood at the very edge, looking down.
Far below, the lights of cars and silhouettes of people stirred.
Creditors. Collectors. The police.
They were waiting for their chance, demanding money he no longer had.
— So this day has come.
— He whispered into the void.
His voice broke.
— How did I get here? Where did I go wrong? It felt to him as if just yesterday everything had been perfect.
Success, money, respect.

But now, standing over the abyss, he understood:
That respect was fake.
His friends vanished together with the last deposit.
Only he and his obsession remained.

Alex nervously ran a hand over his face.
Twelve hours of work.
A day without sleep.

All just to feel the sweet taste of victory at the casino again.
At first, he was lucky.
The thrill was more intoxicating than wine.

But the casino always takes its due.

He lost the apartment.
The car.
Everything.

He borrowed from his best friend — and lost that money in one evening.
The betrayal burned inside more fiercely than any debt.

— Half a million...

The figures echoed in his head.
How do you live with that?

He pressed his palms against the cold concrete of the parapet.
He tensed his muscles, preparing for the final leap.
Below, the world froze in anticipation.

— Freedom, — he exhaled, closing his eyes.

And suddenly the silence was torn apart by a sharp, insistent ring.

Alex flinched and pulled his hands back.
Slowly, as if by force, he took the phone from the side pocket of his jacket.

On the screen, strange digits glowed:
+000-000-000-00

— Doesn’t matter, — he muttered sadly and pressed the red decline button.

The phone fell back into his pocket.
But a second later it rang again.
The same number.
Insistent, demanding.
As if fate itself were knocking at the door.

His hand trembled.
Alex swiped the screen, answering the call.
He was silent.
He couldn’t even find the strength to say hello.

A pause hung on the line.
And then an unknown voice spoke.

It sounded calm.
Beyond time and space.
With such certainty, as if it could see straight through Alex’s soul.

— You can do as you decided.
Just understand one thing: for you, this problem will be solved forever.
But you have people.
They care about you.

The voice paused briefly, letting the words sink in through the howl of the wind.

— Yes, you did bad things.
But there were good things too.
Yes, you have debts.
But there are people who can help you.

Think: what matters more to you now?
Your own selfishness toward yourself...
Or the chance to be happy beside the people close to you?

The connection was cut abruptly.
Long, monotonous beeps sounded in the receiver.

Beep... Beep...

Alex lowered his hand.
The phone was still pressed to his ear, but the voice was already gone.
He looked at the screen.
The number still glowed with zeroes.

An impossible number.
An impossible call.

— Who are you? — he whispered into the night.

The wind suddenly died down.
The silence became not frightening, but expectant.

Alex slowly stepped back from the edge and sat down right on the cold concrete.
The thought that someone — even a stranger, even fate itself — had spoken to him at that very moment lodged in his mind like a splinter.

He went down not through the main entrance, but via the fire escape.
Avoiding a meeting with the creditors.

His feet carried him to the old park.
The place where they once dreamed about the future.

The bench under the dim lamp was empty.
Or was it?

A white envelope lay on it.
No stamp, no address.
Only his name: Alexey.

With trembling fingers, he opened the envelope.
Inside was a note and a key.

Did you think you were alone?
I remember everything.
The good and the bad.
Debts can be repaid.
Friendship — cannot.
Come.
The door is open.
S.

Alex recognized the handwriting.
It was Sergey.
The very friend he had betrayed.

He turned the note over.
On the back was an added line:

P.S. It was me who called.
But the number... the number wasn’t mine.
I just wanted to shout loud enough to be heard, but something greater answered.
Listen to it more often.

Alex reread the lines.
Mysticism intertwined with reality.

It didn’t matter whether it was a technical glitch, a hidden number from a friend, or the voice of an angel.
What mattered was what he had heard.

The key in his hand seemed warm.
For the first time in many months, Alex felt not the cold of despair, but the warmth of hope.

The night no longer seemed so black.
Somewhere in the distance, beyond the horizon, dawn was beginning to break.

He took a step forward.
Not toward the edge.
But into a new life.