And sent.

Jefferson smirked, looking at the red and white website that was lit across the laptop monitor, illuminating his room that was mostly dominated by posters. Posters on the walls. Posters on the ceiling. Over the window. Posters for breakfast and for supper too. Quantum spirituality, UFO, International Government conspiracy to tap into people's thoughts. Everything that's make the average sheep hide their lips— and sometimes not hide their lips— and laugh.

Very well, let them laugh. The arrogant and the ignorant always laughs. They won't be the ones prepared when the lizard people hatch their eggs. No, he would have to be the prepared one, for the sheep needs a shepherd.

And he always considered the arrogant ones the black sheep.

And so he was here, on his laptop, opened before him an insolent dark web website that so comically had the words Proofmaster plastered on the white background. The purple words provides proofs, confirms your reality written in cursive right underneath.

The whole website screamed of an amateur touch. Indeed, a very arrogant amateur's touch.

But, oh no, no, the design of the website was not what brought his precious attention to it, it was what the owner did when he had  asked for the free service.

All Jefferson had done was ask for a confirmation. For a friendly voice to agree with him, discuss with him the blatant foolishness of modern society. All he had done was ask for proof that Earth is flat.

Alas, what he mistook for a  watermelon was a pit viper.

Oh, the hostility!

Hello, sir. Thank you for choosing Proofmaster service. The misleading coating of sugar over the bitter intestines that's the rest of the message.

A few moments (2 minutes and 45 seconds) ago you asked for proof that the Earth is flat. The bureaucratic sidestepping Jefferson would recognize anywhere. After this, poison flows.

We're sorry to inform you that we cannot be of any assistance ☹️ (those idiotic, arrogant and unprofessional bastards even put a dumb emoji!). Earth is indeed not flat. It is not fully round either. It is an oblate spheroid, that is flat near the poles and...

Jefferson could read no longer. Pain punctured his heart and tears trickled down his cheeks. Why wouldn't anyone understand? Why wouldn't anyone give knowledge a chance to prevail over ignorance? Why must he be the prophet the world so desperately needs?

And thus, to teach a lesson to this arrogant child, he had hit upon a plan of divine calibers.

He had asked if earth is flat.

Now, he would ask instead if earth is round.

And when the Proofmaster gives their "proof", he would shatter their logic, falsify their evidence, break their hearts!

And as their world crumbles, he would stand there, a symbol of freedom, a beacon of the new dawn. Because light always prevails over darkness.

And thus, he smirked.

Then something registered to his ears. No, not his mom yelling at him to get a "real" job—parents never understand the constant struggles against the governments mind control requires utmost concentration. No, it was something different. Humming, and pulsating within that hum. Like a wasp, but louder.

Like a UFO.

He hoisted himself up from his thinking chair, reveling at the pain his mortal body gave him. Sprinting to the window, somehow sidestepping the mess on his floor, he grabbed a little unglued portion of the poster and pulled. It came off halfway before abruptly getting stuck. Of course, the aliens don't want him to see them. But knowledge never stops—

Suddenly, there was a rumble. Dust fell from his roof in thin silky lines. Cracks bloomed like winter flowers from the center of the ceiling and spread in a rough circle.

Then a silver of light landed on the ground. A beam from the heavens, an omen of holy divination.

And then a twin to that arrived. And another one. And another. In seconds a good portion of the roof was gone. Not fallen down. Gone.

The sky beyond was blue, bluer than Jefferson ever remembered it to be. There was no clouds, no mists. Just the blue sky and a couple birds flying above.

And then there was the man. Dark suit, a white shirt, he floated above the hole, slowly descending to the ground. His features were generic. Handsome, but somehow not standing out. His tie whipped about like there was a violent wind, even though Jefferson felt none. A pack of fireflies, golden dots of light, seemed to circle him in reverence.

"W-who are you?" Jefferson valiantly inquired.

The man said nothing, he only looked down, his short ponytail whipping about in the wind. Slowly, and with utmost dramatics, he descended towards the floor.

"I-I said," Jefferson raised his voice, "Who are you?"

The man did not answer, still descending towards the ground.

"Leave!" Jefferson remembered all that he read in the paranormal forums, "Or I'm gonna yell!"

"My my, sir," the man's feet touched the floor, "it's quite too beautiful a day to be couped up  in a dark room, don't you think?"

His voice. It must've been infused with government mind control technology, because even without Jefferson's consent, his muscles relaxed. His thoughts became slow and heavy, his stomach empty.

"Yes?"

The man's bright green eyes met his own.

"Are you Jefferson Newcomer, age Twenty Two, occupation Truth Seeker?" The man cracked his knuckles audibly.

"Yes," Jefferson found his voice tiny.

"Did you ask for the proof that Earth is round?"

Jefferson thought about denying. He didn't know what he was walking into. But he also didn't know what the penalty of lying would be.

"Yeah..."

"Could you please specify what would be adequate proof for you to agree?" A Firefly flew and sat on the man's nose. The man stared at it for a moment, "be patient, it's only momentary."

"What's only momentary?" Jefferson blubbered.

"Sorry, sir. That comment was not intended for you. You were asked the question."

"What question?"

"The question about how much would be necessary to prove Earth's roundness to you."

Jefferson's mind ran. Agreeing to this stranger could mean risking his life. But he didn't know what not giving an honest answer would bring him either. And after all, demons live on sins.

"I-I guess if I see it myself, the curvature of earth, then...."

"Then?"

"Then I can believe it."

"Understood," the man nodded. A firefly went and crashed onto his neck, earning a "Be patient." From him.

The man turned to him.

"I'd like to give a word of advice, sir," suddenly Jefferson's world blinked. It was darkness, for a single moment, and when he opened his eyes he was standing in the middle of the room, the gaping hole in the roof above him. A pair of arms went under his armpits and clinched on his shoulders. They were strong, hard and cold, like iron beartraps.

Then came the pull, pulling his feet from the ground, slow but not too slow, fast but not too fast. Almost like hovering.

"Hold your breath."