In the first few minutes of his stay in the new world, this detail caught his attention. He saw it for the first time on Paymax's body.
The second time was when he left the Pit and found himself in the vicinity of Concord.
And now he saw this every day, just as everyone else did.
"..."
It was difficult to describe what he felt when he looked at this object in the sky. He himself did not understand what he was feeling.
Looking at the sky during the daytime, anyone could see three things. The bright sun.
The massive Black Hole, to which he had already become accustomed...
And a vast white continent suspended in the sky.
From the ground... and surely from space, these lands resembled the living embodiment of paradise.
And there was one person who had never been granted entry into this paradise, but had an inexplicable connection to it, because...
"The Abode of Dreams..." he whispered.
That was its name.
…
"Amazing, isn't it?" Marcel said with a smile, standing next to him.
"You can't argue with that..."
An interesting detail was that the heavenly continent seemed to be located a hundred or a thousand kilometers away from him. It was strange... But, in general, he didn't understand much about this world yet.
For example, why, when he was in the Pit, couldn't he see the Abode of Dreams at all? Was this place sacred or something like that? He didn't know...
"You know, although it's forbidden... but according to unofficial data, seventy percent of people want to leave Concord," the old man began in a whisper. "And do you know what they answer when asked where they would like to escape to?"
"..."
"Nothing. They remain silent... They remain silent and point their fingers at the sky."
"It's not surprising." He shook his head. "Who asked them to fill people's heads with fairy tales? False hopes, false dreams..."
"Are you talking about that legend? The one who can soar and rise into the sky will forever be granted a place in the Abode of Dreams..."
"Yeah."
"You know... I don't think they're just fairy tales."
"What do you...?"
He turned to Marcel in surprise and noticed something strange. The old man was shifting awkwardly from foot to foot and holding something behind his back.
After a few moments, he made up his mind and took out... an advertising brochure.
It should be understood that in their era, paper advertisements were extremely rare.
Marcel had a fairly typical appearance for their neighborhood. Sun-bronzed skin, chestnut hair, light facial hair, an elderly belly, and, at first glance, an almost complete absence of implants... But what set him apart, as he liked to say, was his 'clear eyes, inherited from his mother.' His eyes were sky blue and looked inexplicably kind. Incomparably kind for this city and for this world as a whole.
"Uncle..."
"You know, kid... From the day I found you on the side of the road, talking to your own hand, I realized one thing... You're different."
"..."
"You can find common ground with each of us—defeated warriors. You can live among us, work with us, drink, fraternize, and eat... But we have already lost, and you have not. This place, this..." For a moment, a mixture of terrible resentment, anger, and fear flashed across the old man's face. "It left us alive… but it drained the life out of us long ago... But you're different."
"Ha..." It made him smile.
He wanted to argue or make a self-deprecating joke, but Marcel didn't let him.
"I know how it sounds... But don't let this city kill you, too." He handed him the announcement. "I don't know why, but I truly believe you can do it."
"..." With an impassive face, he took the brochure.
The announcement read:
Attention!!! Annual competition!!!
Don't miss your chance to become the most anticipated person of the millennium!!!
Annual selection of the worthy to become the Peak of Dream's Champion!!!
The winner is guaranteed an amazing prize!!!
These were the words written in a particularly large font.
But at the very bottom was another line written in small letters.
the winner will be taken to the heavenly continent and introduced to the followers of dream. the subsequent status of champion is not guaranteed and does not depend on the organizers of the competition.
"..." He couldn't help himself and pressed his palm to his face.
Looking into Marcel's sincere eyes, he didn't know whether to cry or laugh.
"Well?" asked the old man.
"Marcel..."
However, before he could come up with any excuse, something unusual happened.
"...?"
Their neighborhood was located almost on the outskirts of the city, and due to the peculiarities of the population, almost nothing ever happened here. No crime, no homeless people, no drug addicts, nothing special... But even here, on the overground of Southville, things sometimes happened.
They were standing at the entrance to a bar on one of the pedestrian streets. And at that moment, they began to hear a curious conversation.