Chapter I: The Abrupt Awakening
The sprawling metropolis of Maetorn, on the planet Landeria, awoke under the pale—residual light of its two moons. Life here moved fast, defined by the relentless 32 hour day cycle. But in one small apartment, time and order felt like it never existed...
The apartment itself, situated in Maetorn’s downtown district, was less a living space and more a highly distressed storage unit for human survival. This currently disorganized, dusty mess was the current home of a young man; a space so chaotic it felt unearthly—a gravity-defying logic-defying explosion of junk and genius, choked by the clear visual evidence of financial strain.
Dirty coffee mugs, too expensive to replace, guarded towers of takeout containers. Schematics for advanced mechanical designs lay crumpled next to week-old laundry.
Dust motes danced in the pale light filtering through the grime-streaked window. This was the habitat of a genius living hand-to-mouth, the shadow of crushing debt hanging in the air.
The young man was currently part of the clutter, sprawled across his cot in a half-sleep state, his well-built frame hidden beneath a messy blanket.
BEEP—BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP!!
His custom-built alarm clock, modified to be aggressively loud, had been screaming the digital equivalent of an air raid for fifteen minutes straight.
Simultaneously, his phone on the nightstand vibrated with a relentless incoming call from the contact labeled “Ugly Orc.”
The young man finally stirred, dragging himself upward. He scratched his stomach, squinted through the thick film of “eye boogers” that had formed during his deep sleep, and grabbed the phone. He swiped to answer with a sound that was less a greeting and more a resigned, exhausted croak.
“Whaaat...?”
The reply was immediate, sharp, and laced with exasperation.
“WHAT??!?! What do you mean what?!?! After you begged me to wake you up at this time, yet you still probably stayed up all night working on that little machinery of yours. GET YOUR ASS UP RIGHT NOW, EZRA! YOU HAVE A JOB INTERVIEW TO GET TO!”
Ezra’s eyes snapped open, the inherited debt suddenly feeling like a physical weight pressing on his chest. A quick glance at the phone confirmed the time: 07:32 am. His interview at Straya Enterprises, the interview that could end four years of financial—misery was at 08:25 am. Three train stations away.
The switch was instantaneous. The sleepy engineer vanished, replaced by a hyper-focused, goofy whirlwind. He didn’t have time for sequential tasks.
He bolted toward the tiny kitchen counter, simultaneously pulling on a pair of slacks and attempting to shove a stale protein bar into his mouth.
He then grabbed his handheld sonic toothbrush and the nearest shirt (miraculously, it was clean).
The next thirteen minutes were a blur of coordinated chaos or maybe his talent:
07:40: Ezra was brushing his teeth while frantically trying to tie his tie one-handed, pausing only to retrieve a vital hard drive containing his schematics from beneath a pile of spare wires.
07:45: He was aggressively chewing the protein bar while using an aerosol starch spray on his shirt while already standing in his shoes.
Just as he finished the final knot of his tie, his phone rang again. Same caller: Ugly Orc.
He answered instantly, snatching the essential bag with the schematics.
“Are you finally awake now?” the caller’s voice came through the speaker, the earlier fire replaced by a tired, long-suffering tone.
“Yahhpmph! Thanks, buddy!” Ezra’s voice was muffled by the food still crammed in his cheek.
“Sorry about thf-at, man. But seems like I gotta go quick, I’ll brief you on what happens later!!” He couldn’t resist adding a mischievous jab as he locked the apartment door. “See you soon, don’t be flirting up too many girls while I’m gone!”
A chuckle, short and dry, crackled over the line, implying the caller found Ezra’s humor amusing despite the gravity of the situation. “You dumbass, I don’t have time for flirting with women. I got a food truck to run. And make sure you eat with your mouth closed, Ezra. Seriously…”
The call dropped. Ezra grinned, his panic momentarily eclipsed by the fun of teasing his friend. The adrenaline of the chase was intoxicating.
He slammed the door shut, took the stairs two at a time, and burst out onto the chaotic streets of Maetorn. He jammed the last piece of the protein bar into his mouth, its edges sticking out like a poorly maintained antenna;
Mouth full, tie slightly askew, and a wide, energetic smile plastered on his face, Ezra sprinted toward the train station, tackling his unruly world with goofy determination.
The time was 07:47. He had less than forty minutes.
