Five in the morning.
The neon signs that had burned all night now looked dull, overpowered by the faint glow of dawn creeping between glass towers.
Brian stood by his apartment window, watching the transition of the city while holding a cup of steaming coffee. A thin swirl of vapor rose, sketching shapes like runes in the air. He sipped slowly. Sluurp… ahh.
Closing his eyes for a moment, he recited softly, as if reading a prayer to himself:
"When you wake up in the morning, think of what a precious privilege it is to be alive—to breathe, to think, to enjoy, to love."
— Marcus Aurelius
He cleared his throat. "Morning coffee is the best."
He placed the cup down, checked his laptop—three terminals still open from last night: backend Java, Python utilities, a temporary SQL view. All finished.
"Alright," he murmured. "Last day of work. End of one chapter."
After a quick shower, he buttoned a simple shirt, pulled on dark slacks. The wall clock read 6:15 sharp. Time to go.
Elder Chu and Lin
The door next to his opened just as he stepped into the hallway. Elder Chu, his elderly neighbor with thinning hair and an eternal thermos of tea, shuffled out.
"Morning, Brian!" Chu called, accent warm and heavy. "Another day to work? Remember, youth doesn't last forever—don't put off finding a wife!"
Brian pressed his palms together in mock reverence. "Elder Chu, life is like debugging. Sometimes errors show up in places you least expect. For love… I'm still stuck in a syntax error."
The old man laughed so hard he wheezed. "You boy, always with the metaphors."
A door clicked behind them. Lin, Chu's granddaughter, stepped out in her high-school uniform, hair tied in a neat ponytail.
"Morning, Brother Brian."
Brian bowed dramatically. "Junior from the same sect."
Lin rolled her eyes but smiled. "Please don't embarrass me at the bus stop."
They descended together.
The Convenience Store
The door chimed as they entered the store below the apartment. The scent of toast, instant coffee, and cold air greeted them.
Behind the counter slouched Jaden, hoodie two sizes too big, headset on one ear, thumbs dancing across his phone screen.
"Brian, man, this is a disaster!" he groaned without looking up. "My teammates are all farming, the enemy's already pushing the tower!"
Brian grabbed wheat bread, bottled water, and a can of coffee. "Mobile Legends again? Your mage build's still glass. If the enemy has two layers of burst, you're finished."
Jaden finally glanced up, grinning sheepishly. "Sensei, teach me."
"Even a kingdom of snacks needs strategy." Brian placed the items on the counter. "Stamina is a resource. In games, in life—same thing."
"Quote of the day, noted!" Jaden saluted dramatically.
Brian waved him off, leaving with Lin.
The Bus Stop and Math Homework
At the bus stop, two of Lin's friends huddled over a notebook, panic all over their faces.
"Ugh, how do you even solve this integral?" one moaned.
Lin nudged Brian. "Help them out?"
Brian leaned over, skimmed the page, then grabbed a pen and scribbled:
∫x² dx = (x³)/3 + C
"See?" he explained. "Integration is like tracing a function back to its origin. Like debugging—you step backwards line by line until you find the core bug. Or, easier: think of it as a hidden item quest in a game."
The girls blinked, then laughed. "Weird… but that actually makes sense!"
Lin covered her face. "He's always like this." But her lips curved in a small smile.
The bus arrived. They climbed on together.
At the Office — Noel's Drama
The glass tower of their office gleamed in the morning sun. Brian swiped his ID; the reader beeped.
Inside, the IT floor buzzed with monitors, keyboards, and the ever-present scent of instant coffee.
"Master Brightveil!" Noel practically sprinted toward him. His hair was a mess, his eyes alive with drama. "The bug from yesterday—vanquished at last, thanks to your wisdom!"
Brian clapped his shoulder. "Small commits, often. The world collapses not from big bugs, but from monstrous PRs."
The surrounding colleagues burst out laughing. Noel, unfazed, dropped into a knight's bow. "Accept my humble prostration, O Debugger Supreme!"
Brian sighed, suppressing a smile. "Rise, little knight. Deadlines await."
Princess Elena
From the corner, Elena approached—graceful, her long hair gleaming, perfume subtle but unmistakable.
"Brian," she said softly. "It's your last day. Are you truly leaving? I still hope you'll change your mind."
Brian bowed slightly, voice calm. "Princess Elena, your eyes are like stars in the cosmos. But I am a traveler of the long road. Do not wait for me—for my path knows no return."
Elena's lips quirked, though sadness flickered in her gaze. "You always talk as if life were a novel."
"Because life," Brian replied, "is a code written in narrative."
Lunch Break
At noon, Brian, Noel, Elena, and a few others gathered at a small family restaurant. The owner, a cheerful woman in her forties, greeted him.
"Brian, your usual's ready: grilled chicken breast, extra spirit essence, level five."
The table erupted with laughter. Brian stroked his chin, dead serious. "The perfect foundation for cultivation."
Noel slid off his chair, bowing again. "Then allow me to partake, Master, so that my dantian may grow strong!"
The others roared with laughter. Elena simply smiled faintly, eyes lingering on Brian longer than necessary.
Farewell
By five, the office quieted. Brian packed his desk, shut his laptop, and stood.
"Thank you, everyone. Until we meet again—perhaps on another path."
Noel fell to one knee in the middle of the room. "Master! I will uphold the Brightveil banner!"
The office echoed with laughter. Elena remained standing, her eyes shining but unshed with tears. "Take care of yourself, Brian."
He gave her a small bow. "May your kingdom flourish, Princess Elena."
The Evening Bus
On the way home, Brian sat by the window. The city shimmered in twilight, neon blooming as the sun faded.
He closed his eyes.
A whisper crept into his mind—faint, otherworldly. …Aš-tîl… Ma-ra… En-ûm…
Brian startled slightly, staring at his own reflection in the glass. "Am I losing my grip on logic… or is the world really waiting for me?"
His phone buzzed. Caller ID: his older sister.
"Brian, are you serious about resigning? Don't forget dinner tomorrow. Mom's been cooking since yesterday."
Brian smiled faintly. "Yeah, sis. I'll be there."
The call ended. He leaned against the glass again, watching the streetlights blur into lines of artificial stars.
Deep down, he knew: routine was about to end. Something else had been waiting all along—behind his dreams, behind the whispers.