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Chapter 3 — The Basics of Survival
The cold breeze of early 1990 brushed against Leo's face as he walked down the cracked pavement of downtown New York.
Freedom had a scent — a mix of dust, oil, and faint promise.
He shoved his hands deep into his jacket pockets, thinking aloud,
"Alright… now that I'm free, I've got three problems staring me right in the face."
He raised a finger. "One: food — can't live without that."
"Two: shelter — unless I wanna spend the night under some bridge."
"And three…" he sighed, "money — the root of every survival issue."
He glanced at the folded bills in his hand — $150, the parting gift from Mrs. Hargrove.
"Yeah, thanks, ma'am… but this won't last long, even in 1990."
He kept walking, passing rusted cars, a payphone booth, and a kid skateboarding down the sidewalk.
> If I'm going to make this work, I need income fast.
A sudden thought hit him — Forge's power.
That strange, intuitive spark that hummed at the back of his mind like a sleeping machine. He could feel it now, faintly — every nut, bolt, and circuit around him whispering possible designs, repairs, and solutions.
> I can build or fix anything, as long as I've got the right materials.
And then another thought followed — the dimension.
A vast, empty void waiting to be filled with energy… but only energy. No storage, no shortcuts, no items.
He exhaled. "Yeah, that part's a bummer. But fine. I'll deal with it later. One step at a time."
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The Garage
The smell of grease and metal filled the air as Leo stepped into a small auto-repair shop near Brooklyn. The signboard read "Jack's Motorworks."
A gruff, broad-shouldered man with a thick mustache looked up from under a Chevy hood. "We're not hiring, kid."
Leo smiled. "You'll change your mind in a minute."
Jack — that was the man's name — raised an eyebrow. "Oh really? And why's that?"
Leo pointed at the car. "Because that alternator isn't the problem. It's the timing belt. The misfire you're hearing? That's compression loss from a bent valve, not bad plugs."
Jack squinted. "You sound awful sure for someone who just walked in."
Leo smirked. "How about a bet? I fix it. If I'm right, you hire me. If not, I walk."
Jack laughed. "You got guts, kid. Fine. Tools are there. Impress me."
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Ten minutes later, the engine roared back to life — smoother than it had in years. Jack blinked in disbelief, wiping his hands on a rag.
"I'll be damned," he muttered. "You actually did it. The owner's been to five shops for this problem, and none of 'em figured it out."
The car owner, still standing nearby, looked stunned. "That's… impossible. You sure you're not some kind of engineer?"
Leo shrugged. "Just good instincts, I guess."
Jack chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder. "Alright, Leo. You've got yourself a job. Pay's not great, but honest work never is. Welcome aboard."
Leo grinned, the first genuine smile of his new life. "That's all I needed to hear."
> Money problem — handled.
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The Apartment Hunt
By evening, Leo was already walking through a narrow neighborhood filled with small rental signs and laundry lines fluttering from windows.
It didn't take long before he found a small one-room apartment above a laundromat — old, creaky, but cozy enough.
The landlord, a thin man named Mr. Doyle, eyed him suspiciously. "You new around here, kid?"
"Yeah. Just got a job at Jack's Motorworks," Leo said, showing the small envelope of cash he'd earned from his first day.
Doyle's eyes softened immediately. "Well, that's good enough for me. $80 deposit, $120 a month. That includes water and electricity."
Leo blinked. "That's… surprisingly fair."
Leo handed over the deposit and took the keys. "Deal."
> Shelter — check.
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The Food
After moving in, Leo walked down the block and stopped at a familiar red-and-yellow sign — McDonald's.
He ordered a cheeseburger for 99 cents, a small fries for 59, and a Coke for 89. Total — $2.47.
The first proper meal of his new life.
He sat by the window, biting into the burger, watching the streets outside glow with the orange hue of late evening. A group of teenagers laughed outside, a man played a saxophone on the corner, and the world felt alive in a way he'd never experienced before.
> So this is the 90s, huh? No smartphones, no noise — just people living. Simple. Real.
He took another bite and smiled faintly.
> Food — solved.
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The Apartment
Later that night, Leo sat on his new bed, surrounded by silence. A single bulb illuminated the small room — one table, one chair, one bed.
He leaned back, hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling.
"Today… was a good day," he whispered. "Got a job, a roof, and a burger."
His eyes drifted shut as he smiled faintly.
> One step closer to control. One step closer to power.
Outside, the city buzzed with the rhythm of the 90s — unaware that somewhere in a tiny apartment, the seeds of something extraordinary had just been planted.
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End of Chapter 3
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[Give me power stones guys I will definitely be motivated.]
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