Hawkins woke up slowly.
Alex noticed that right away.
The town didn't jolt into motion like cities he remembered from 2025. There was no rush-hour roar, no constant electronic hum. Hawkins eased into the day like it was stretching, half-asleep and unconcerned with what the future might be planning.
He stood outside the storefront just after seven, hands in his jacket pockets, watching frost cling stubbornly to the sidewalk. The old sign above him—HARPER ELECTRONICS—hung crooked, the paint faded enough that the last name looked more like a suggestion than a statement.
This place had been his parents'.That still felt strange to think about.
He unlocked the door and stepped inside.
The shop smelled like dust, solder, and old insulation. Workbenches lined the walls, cluttered with half-disassembled radios, television guts, and cardboard boxes labeled in careful handwriting. It wasn't impressive, but it was solid.
More importantly—it was legal.
Alex flipped the lights on, wincing slightly as they flickered before settling.
SYSTEM NOTICE
Daily task pending:• Establish income source (Optional)
Reward: Skill EXP + Financial Insight.
"Relax," he muttered. "I'm literally standing in it."
The system didn't respond. It rarely did unless prompted by action. He liked that. Too much feedback made things feel artificial.
He set his jacket aside and rolled up his sleeves.
The first customer came in at 8:14.
A middle-aged man with nicotine-stained fingers and a radio tucked under one arm. He looked at Alex skeptically, eyes lingering a moment too long.
"You run this place?" the man asked.
Alex nodded. "I don't let it run me."
The man snorted despite himself and set the radio on the counter. "Keeps cutting out. Picks up noise that shouldn't be there."
Alex's fingers moved automatically, popping the casing open.
He froze.
For half a second, the world narrowed—not visually, but mentally. He understood the circuitry faster than he should have. Signal pathways mapped themselves out in his head. Faults stood out like smudges on glass.
SKILL PROGRESS
Electronics Fundamentals → Applied
Interesting.
He fixed the issue in under ten minutes.
The man stared. "That was fast."
Alex shrugged. "It wanted to be fixed."
When the door closed behind the customer, Alex leaned against the counter, pulse steady.
This was how it would start.
Not with monsters or blood or government vans.
With money.With trust.With a reputation.
By noon, he'd repaired three radios, a television, and something that might have once been a blender. Each task nudged the system quietly forward—tiny improvements stacking instead of exploding.
During lunch, he sat on a stool behind the counter, eating a grilled cheese he'd made on a hot plate.
SKILL UPDATED
Cooking (Home-Level) → Comfort Meals
He blinked at that. "That's… specific."
He took another bite. It was good. Crispy in the right places. The kind of meal you didn't think about until it was gone.
Outside, a group of kids biked past, laughing too loudly. One of them wiped out on the pavement and popped back up like nothing had happened.
Alex watched them through the window longer than necessary.
Not yet, he thought.
They still got to be kids.
The afternoon slowed. Hawkins didn't reward ambition—it tolerated it, cautiously. People came in because they were curious. They left because the work was good.
By four, Alex locked up and pulled out the notebook from his desk drawer.
Not numbers. Not plans.
Ideas.
Repair → Custom Builds
Radio tech → Signal analysis
Early computers (when available)
Software later (when the world is ready)
He paused, pen hovering.
SYSTEM PROMPT
Business Insight: LockedRequirement: Sustainable revenue stream.
"Fair enough," he said softly.
Outside, clouds rolled in low and heavy. The air felt charged—not electrically, but expectantly. Like the town was holding its breath without knowing why.
Alex shut off the lights and stepped outside, pulling the door closed behind him.
As he locked it, a thought surfaced uninvited:
You're building a life here.
That was the dangerous part.
A life meant attachments.Attachments meant leverage.Leverage meant pain—eventually.
Alex glanced down the street, then toward the woods beyond the last row of houses.
"I'll manage," he said, more to himself than anyone else.
The wind stirred. Somewhere, far off, something answered—too faint to hear, too early to understand.
Hawkins kept pretending everything was fine.
Alex started walking.