Somewhere far to the north of the equator, nestled among vast valleys, lay the realm of dreams and innovation known as Ariella.
At the heart of Ariella stood a town, enveloped in the hum of machines and the embrace of worn hills—this was Hemsworth.
As dawn broke, the sun emerged from the embrace of the mountains, its golden rays illuminating the town in a warm glow. On one of the countless streets, a modest house sat at the corner, quietly inviting.
Within its walls, a young boy slept soundly, curled up in the gentle warmth of morning light. The golden rays filtered through the tiny gaps in the window, casting a soft glow upon his slightly curly black hair, which veiled his eyes, faintly tinted with brown.
The sunlight stirred him from slumber; he stretched and yawned, slowly blinking awake. With a soft grumble, he muttered, "This damn sun!"
Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he climbed out of bed. The moment his feet touched the wooden floor, a gentle surge of light enveloped the room in a soothing blue hue.
The temperature dropped, and the atmosphere lightened, adjusting to his presence, sensing his body heat.
"All this technology, yet it can't even close a curtain," the boy sighed as he made his way to the bathroom.
He splashed water on his face, revealing the youthful innocence of his skin. He combed his tousled hair back, exposing his pale brown eyes that peeked out from beneath the curls.
At that moment, a loud voice echoed from the floor below. "Ren! You're going to be late; don't make me call you again!"
His face fell in despair. Ren hastily changed from his starry night pajamas into his academic attire—a red maroon blazer with ill-fitting shoulders, emblazoned at its heart with a crest depicting a hammer striking an anvil, the proud symbol of Hemsworth. Below, he donned white trousers with maroon stripes running down either side, and on his feet were boots crafted from carbon fiber, a marvel of modern artificial leather.
After donning his outfit, he attended to his accessories: a dark maroon tie, a cutting-edge holographic band on his left wrist, and a sleek, transparent digital tablet.
"I'm going to be late!" Ren exclaimed as he rushed downstairs into the dining hall, which was modestly spacious. The table was set, awaiting him with perfectly cooked fried eggs and roasted brown bread adorned with fresh red jam.
"One of the only two things I enjoy about mornings," he murmured, clasping his hands in prayer before devouring the meal like a ravenous beast.
"Ren! How many times must I tell you to eat slowly and chew properly?" his mother reprimanded, causing him to slow down, apprehensive.
Suddenly, a screen flickered to life in mid-air, translucent and ethereal—it was a television. A woman appeared, delivering the news.
"In today's weekly report, the crime rate has risen by 17 percent compared to last week, with several criminals to be on the lookout for," she read, her voice emanating from speakers embedded within the hall. The screen shifted, displaying images and names in holographic detail.
"Mathew Rust, Aurel Mich, Candice Ro—"
Before the news could continue, the channel abruptly switched to a football match.
"Go, go, go, Hemsworth Hammers!" shouted a man standing beside the table, his eyes and hair mirroring Ren's, though softened by age. He was tall, with a slight gloominess about him, his muscular limbs bearing the marks of a life lived in service, scars from army days mingling with small burn patches acquired from his work as an electrician.
"Ridge! Stop your shouting, and don't act like a child," his mother scolded once more, redirecting her ire towards the spirited man.
"But Emerald, it's our team's match," he protested gently, a hint of fear lacing his voice.
"All right, a little enthusiasm is permitted, but now sit and eat your breakfast," she relented, revealing a sliver of tenderness.
Emerald possessed pearl green eyes and hair that mirrored her name, her face adorned with gentle lines of experience. Dressed in a light pink apron, she continued to prepare their meals, a testament to her love for cooking, a passion that lingered from her days as a biological scientist.
The playful banter between his parents brought a soft chuckle to Ren's lips. "That's the other part of mornings I cherish," he thought, a smile gracing his face as he savored the moment.
From the stairs, another voice joined the fray.
"Mom! I'm going to be late. I'll skip breakfast!"
A boy taller than Ren rushed past, clad in a blue jacket emblazoned with the Ariella Medical Institute emblem. His dyed yellow hair flared as he sprinted.
"Not again, Ryu," Ren sighed.
"Don't be upset," their mother consoled, patting his head. "Your brother's always in a hurry."
Ren huffed in resignation. "Then I'll just eat his share. Better than letting it go to waste."
***
Ren stepped outside, making his way to the bus stand a short distance away. Beneath his feet, shadows danced, but as he gazed up, he realized the shadows were not cast by clouds, but by vehicles soaring through the clear sky like birds.
"I need to hurry," Ren muttered, quickening his pace toward the stand, arriving just in time, breathless and weary from his dash.
Another shadow loomed larger, growing with each passing moment. Out of nowhere, a bus descended from the heavens, hovering gently as if it were a boat gliding across water.
The bus doors swung open with a resounding bang, and a staircase unfolded before him. "Welcome to LEV-BUS #2310C, bound for Hemsworth Academy. Please scan your ID before boarding. Thank you," an AI voice announced in a slightly clunky feminine tone.
Ren stepped inside, greeted by the familiar buzz of voices. He made his way to the back seat, where another boy sat—Leon, with blond hair, a loud voice, golden eyes, polished glasses, and an air of confidence that spoke of wealth.
Beside him clung two boys, Jerry and Tom, twins with strikingly different temperaments, their dark red hair matching their equally vibrant eyes.
"Morning, Ren," Leon greeted with enthusiasm.
"Morning, Leon," Ren replied, a hint of annoyance creeping into his voice.
"Check this out," Leon said, showcasing his brand-new band. "GT-2.0. Slimmer, faster, and better than ever, with real touch sense!"
Jerry gazed in envy. "I wish I had that kind of money."
Tom leaned in eagerly. "I've been saving. I might be able to buy it."
Ren remained aloof, taking his usual window seat, preferring to gaze outside. Not because he admired the view, but because it allowed him to avoid conversation. As the Lev-Bus glided through town—smooth and soundless—his eyes fell upon a scene that stirred memories.
An abandoned park.
Rusty swings swayed in the breeze, collapsed slides whispered of laughter long forgotten, echoes buried beneath time.
"Everything's changed," he murmured, a sense of loss washing over him.
The others around him chatted about games and augmented reality, oblivious to the playgrounds that had faded into obscurity.
***
"We have arrived at our destination: Ariella's Private Mechanical School," the AI's voice chimed.
The gates swung open, and students emerged one by one, their presence illuminated by the faint glow of the school's scanning system.
Behind them loomed Hemsworth Academy, its tall white walls gleaming under the sun, solar windows gleaming, self-sustaining floors humming with energy, and desks that floated as if defying gravity.
The students glided through the hallways like children on a water slide, a seamless dance of youth and enthusiasm. Classroom 1-H unlocked itself with a gentle hum as Ren approached.
Inside, the room was alive with mid-air holograms—equations swirling, engines rotating, and blueprints unfurling in a mesmerizing display. A moment later, the teacher entered.
"Good morning, students," he greeted, tapping his digital clipboard. Mr. Marsh Sunborn's name danced across the screen behind him.
He inhaled deeply, the gravity of the moment settling in. "We have two weeks until your career forms are finalized. Today, you will complete your academy preference sheets."
He paused, arching a brow in anticipation. "But first… the pledge."
In near perfect unison, everyone rose to their feet. "In the name of the hero of the new world, the father of modern technology—we pledge ourselves to Rudd Velion..."
Yet Ren's voice was conspicuously absent. His gaze was lost beyond the window, drawn to the expansive blue sky. He did not focus on the red sun or the flying vehicles but rather on the enormous sphere drifting above, a second sun casting an eerie, glowing blue light.
Memories surfaced, vivid and haunting. 'The sound it made.' 'The thing that emerged from it.' 'The way the sky turned crimson.' 'The screams of despair.' 'And the losses.'
Twelve years ago, when everything transformed. His fist tightened in recollection.
"Renaris Aurelith!" the teacher's voice broke through his reverie. He blinked, startled by Mr. Marsh's sharp tone.
"Y-Yes, sir," he stammered, quickly reclaiming his seat. A soft snicker rippled through the class, but Mr. Marsh remained silent, his expression one of disappointment.
Ren cast his eyes downward at the blank sheet before him. Future Path: ____
He found himself at a loss for words, yet a faint inkling of what could be began to stir within him...
***
Far removed from the clamor of school and the routine of daily existence, in the desolate wastelands, a solitary ruin stood in quietude.
Once a library, the building bore the scars of time—its stone columns cracked, its walls etched with the memories of silence and neglect.
A door creaked open, shattering the stillness.
A figure draped in black stepped inside. A cane of redwood tapped softly against the dust-laden floor, while in his other hand, a pocket watch ticked with a slow, deliberate rhythm.
He paused in the center of the dust-covered expanse, gazing upward. Thousands of books surrounded him, untouched, waiting.
For the moment when the ticking of the watch would finally cease.