It had been a week since the Zone Incident.
The college was gone—just rubble and dust now. So many lives lost. So many friends never coming back. The survivors were handed their diplomas without final exams. A gesture meant to honor them... but it didn't feel like a victory. It felt like someone slapped a sticker on a grave and called it closure.
Aeron woke up to the smell of eggs and toast. Same as every morning that week.
He sat at the table, eyes half-open, barely awake. His mom was at the stove, making breakfast. His dad, already dressed for work, sat across from him, reading the news on his old, cracked tablet.
They hadn't asked much since he came back. No questions about what he saw. What he did. How he managed to survive when others didn't. They gave him space. Too much, maybe. But he was grateful for it.
Still, it was clear they'd been holding back something. And today, that silence broke.
"Aeron," his dad said, voice calm but careful.
Aeron looked up from his plate.
"Well... I talked with a friend of mine. He's looking for a security guard. It's not much, but it's stable. I'm not saying you have to take it—just... think about it."
Aeron didn't reply. He took another bite, chewing slowly.
His mom turned, wiping her hands on a towel. "Sweetheart, we know things have been hard. And we're not trying to push you. But... the truth is, we're struggling. Rent's late. Bills are stacking up."
A heavy silence fell.
Aeron kept eating. Quiet. Detached.
His parents exchanged a glance—one of those silent conversations that only happen after twenty years of marriage.
They sighed. Backed off.
And then, just as they were about to change the subject, Aeron spoke.
"You don't have to worry," he said, wiping his mouth. "I already got a job."
Both of them froze.
His dad blinked. "What?"
Aeron smiled faintly at their expressions, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. He placed it gently on the table like it was nothing.
The emblem shimmered faintly in the morning light.
Eagle Mercenaries.
His father's mouth dropped open. "No way. Is this real?"
His mom let out a squeal, practically leaping across the table. "Eagle Mercs?! Are you serious?!"
Aeron chuckled. "Yeah. One of their scouts gave it to me during the Incident. Said I had potential."
"Potential?" His dad picked up the card like it might vanish. "You know it costs two hundred grand just to register for their entrance exam? And even then, maybe ten people pass it in a year!"
"I don't have to take the exam," Aeron said, leaning back in his chair. "They saw me in action. Offered a direct invite."
His mom screamed in joy, hugging him tightly. "Oh my god, my baby is gonna be rich!"
Aeron stiffened at first, then relaxed and hugged her back.
His dad, still stunned, started pacing. "I... I'm calling my boss. I'm quitting today. My son's working for the top guild in the country!"
"Yeah, sure," Aeron muttered. "But let me actually start the job first."
The room fell quiet.
His dad squinted. "Wait... so, you don't have it yet?"
"I do," Aeron said. "Just gotta do a physical check-up so they can figure out where to put me."
His parents exhaled at the same time, visibly relieved.
"When's that happening?" his mom asked.
"Today. I need to call them and confirm I'm coming."
His dad placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "Listen, son. Whatever they offer—even if it's cleaning toilets or scrubbing floors—take it. Don't get cocky."
"What? Hell no." Aeron frowned. "I didn't get recruited to wash dishes."
"He's right," his mom said quickly. "Their janitors earn more in a month than your dad does in a year. Take any job they give you."
Aeron groaned, rubbing his eyes. "Okay, okay. Fine. I get it. I'll take whatever they give me."
His parents broke into a full-on dance. His dad even did a fist pump.
"We're throwing a party tonight!" he declared.
Aeron smirked and stood, taking the card with him as he headed to his room.
He sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the emblem one more time. It still felt surreal.
Then he dialed the number.
"Hello. You've reached the Eagle Mercenaries Scouting Branch for new talent. Please state your name to register for the medical exam."
"Aeron Cross."
"One moment... Alright. Your medical exam is scheduled for 5 p.m. Please don't be late. Thank you."
He hung up.
With a satisfied sigh of relief, Aeron placed the Eagle Mercenaries card beside his bed and decided to take a short nap.
When he woke up, sunlight was already streaming through the window. He checked the time—10:00 a.m.
He got up, washed his face, and got dressed. Then he grabbed his small bag and headed toward the door.
As he entered the living room, his dad looked up. "You're leaving already?"
"Yeah," Aeron said. "I don't want to be late."
His mom peeked out from the kitchen, holding a stack of paper plates. "Finish quickly and come back early, okay? We invited a lot of people."
Aeron frowned. "You what?"
His dad chuckled. "Family, neighbors, even your friends. They're all coming."
"You're serious?"
His mom beamed. "Our son's joining the Eagle Mercenaries! Of course we have to celebrate!"
Aeron sighed and turned back toward the door.
"Wait," his dad said, walking over. He pulled something from his pocket and handed it to Aeron—a sleek black credit card. "Take this."
Aeron blinked. "Are you sure?"
"You're going out there to change our family's future," his dad said. "Spend however you like. Don't worry about it—just focus on getting that job."
Aeron looked at the card, then back at his dad, and nodded. "Thanks."
He zipped up his jacket, opened the door, and stepped outside.
The air was cold and carried a faint, stinky smell—typical of their neighborhood. He paused and looked back at the house. The paint was peeling, the roof patched with plastic sheets, the lights always flickering.
'Should they really be throwing a party?' They didn't have much. But if this job worked out… maybe they'd never have to worry again. Maybe it was worth celebrating.
He walked through the worn-down streets. The roads were cracked, the buildings rusted and weary. Rats swarmed the alleys. Beggars and garbage filled his view everywhere he looked.
No matter how many times he walked this path, he never got used to it.
Eventually, he reached the local taxi hub and stepped in front of a glowing small screen.
"Destination?"
He typed: Sacramento – Eagle Mercenaries Guild Center
"Confirm payment: 1,050 credits."
He tapped the credit card against the scanner.
Payment successful. Remaining balance: 632 credits.
A sleek white taxi hovered into place and opened its door with a soft hiss.
Aeron took a deep breath and climbed in.
"Destination locked. Estimated travel time: six hours," the car announced. "Please sit back and relax."
The taxi lifted off the ground, joining the glowing air lanes in the sky. Traffic flowed in smooth lines, each vehicle guided by automated systems.
Aeron leaned back and gazed out the window.
The view slowly transformed. The city below shifted from broken-down buildings and grimy alleys to cleaner streets, wide roads, and shining towers of glass. Rooftop farms stretched across buildings. Wind turbines spun lazily. Bright trains glided along elevated rails in the clouds.
[Image]
It felt like a different world.
His parents had dreamed of living in places like this—but not him. He couldn't help but compare the scenery to the world inside the Zones. Sure, it was beautiful… but the beauty he'd seen there was literally out of this world.
He scrolled through reels for the rest of the journey.
As the sun began to set, he yawned—completely bored.
"Can you play something?" he asked aloud.
The lights beeped.
Playing: "Baby Shark Dance."
The machine spoke in a robotic voice.
"Nah, don't. Please—I changed my mind," Aeron groaned, now regretting the request.
"Arrival in five minutes," the taxi said.
Aeron rubbed his eyes and looked out the window, suddenly more alert.
"Finally!" he shouted.
There it was.
The Eagle Mercenaries Guild Center—a massive, round structure that looked like a fortress from the future. It gleamed under the setting sun. Drones zipped through the air. People crowded outside, snapping pictures, hoping to spot someone famous.
[Image]
His heart pounded.
The taxi landed softly, and the door hissed open.
Aeron stepped out, cool wind brushing his face.
He looked up at the towering building.
This was it.
The place that could change his life forever.
He took a deep breath… and walked forward.
BEEP-BEEP.
A loud honk echoed behind him. Aeron flinched and turned.
The taxi door had opened again.
"Passenger feedback required," the robotic voice chirped cheerfully. "Please rate your journey from 1 to 5 stars."
Aeron blinked. "Seriously?"
"Feedback helps us improve," the taxi insisted, a giant floating smiley face blinking on its screen.
Aeron sighed and walked back. "Fine. One star."
A sudden pause.
"Input received: 1 star. We are sorry to hear you were dissatisfied," the taxi said in a monotone. "Can you tell us what the service lacked? We'll work on it."
Aeron stared at it, deadpan. "Good song choice. Just… don't ever torture another soul with 'Baby Shark' again."
The smiley face flickered for a moment—almost like it had been offended—before disappearing.
"Understood," the taxi replied stiffly. "Updating playlist settings… 'Baby Shark' has been removed for future passengers."
"Good," Aeron muttered, already turning back toward the building.
He took one final glance at the gleaming entrance, the eagle insignia etched into the doors.
Then he stepped inside.