The pupil became thinner…
….Blue eyes darted around his evolved environment as he watched the world go about their daily lives. The hums of hovercrafts, Carpods and the extensive magline running along the mid-air rails above.
Humans, robotic integrated conscious mechanisms and trans-humans roamed the streets.Some with Neuro-synced rings worn over their necks and ears in conversations and laughter.
Zane, now an outcast at his workplace, had considered ending his life if his mother does not survive the cryopod.
"This new world is more useless than it has ever been," he thought, gritting his teeth, his gaze rising toward the sky; towards the beautiful ring orbiting the new Earth.
Earth 101, they called it.
But how was it any different from the previous one?
It's been 5 years since humanity eloped to this weird place, which surprisingly has almost all the features of the first Earth except for the fact that everything around the globe now feels artificial ... .More technological . Even the plants are somehow preserved daily through silent drones that hover around once every complete rotation of the twin moon.
Though the dome shielding the mass of humanity blurred the view of the rings to some extent, it also protected them from the outward radiation those same beautiful rings emitted.
Zane's eyes shifted again, drifting toward the edge of his sockets. Dancing in an endless, repetitive cycle were the twin moons that bathed the land in light during the supposed dark hours.
They moved slowly to Zane's tired eyes, but scientists claimed they traveled at the speed of light, which probably explained why the rays were always stable but not felt. The day felt like day, and night…..well, the night felt like day too.
A ball rolled toward his feet, and his head lolled downward in a tired daze. Tracing its path, he saw a little girl not too far away, clutching her mother's hand. He could tell just by looking, her eyes held a mixture of doubt and indecision. She pointed toward the ball, waiting to see whether Zane would kick it back or bring it over.
'Such a dummy,' Zane thought. 'If it's yours, just come get it.'
Her mother crouched to her height, probably telling her to go retrieve it. But the girl shook her head. It was one of two things, either she was scared of Zane or she was just another spoiled brat.
Zane didn't care. What was weighing on his mind now was far heavier than a silent standoff with a little girl. Perhaps she hadn't started losing things yet. Her mother was still very much alive,still with her.What more would she think of?
Lazy as always, Zane picked up the ball and turned his head back toward the girl. This time, her arms were outstretched, waiting for her little friend to return. He rolled it along the ground at a slow, steady pace, making sure it would reach her without much effort. His posture remained slouched, unmoving, even when the ball came to a halt three feet away from her.
"Damn it. The momentum wasn't enough," he muttered internally.
She let go of her mother's hand and took three small steps forward, scooping up the ball. Her face lit up with a hue of joy. And Zane, as uncomfortable as he was with the whole thing, let out a lazy smile of his own as the girl rejoined her mother and the two continued on their way.
Zane leaned back against the cold bench, the hum of the dome's electromagnetic field thrumming softly in the distance. The girl's laughter still echoed faintly in his ears, irritating and comforting all at once.
For a brief moment, he had wished he was the girl, free from responsibilities and only cared about a ball. He closed his eyes to disappear for a second. Maybe two.
He didn't know how long he stayed like that until a shadow blocked the warmthless light pouring from the artificial sky above. The presence was quiet, too quiet to be a random passerby except the person was quite huge or robust in personality.
Zane opened one eye lazily.
The man standing before him wore an obsidian-black coat, too clean for someone walking around the park. Dark glasses and blended hair.His boots were polished, his posture unnaturally upright.But it was the silver pin on his chest that caught Zane's eye, a symbol he hadn't seen in a long while. A half-sphere embedded within a triangle. The DQHN is written boldly across the logo. Private and Non-Governmental.
It was them.
"Ahhhh shit," He said first.
"Zane Everhart," the man asked to be sure, ignoring his words. His voice was smooth, rehearsed like he had introduced himself to hundreds of people before now.
"Yeah," Zane replied, uninterested. "Who's asking?"
The man didn't give an appropriate answer. "You're requested for immediate consultation at the Division of Quantum Humanity of NexaTech."
Zane scoffed under his breath. "I got fired from the BioEngineering sector three months ago. Not exactly consultation material anymore."
"This isn't BioEngineering," the man said. "It's something... broader."
That didn't sit well with Zane. In this world, whenever they used words like "broader," it usually meant "deadlier."
He crossed his legs, now slouched in an unconcerned, lazy manner, eyes trailing the passersby and floating carpods drifting just above the city's pulse. The air smelled of metal and false hopes.
"Find someone else," he muttered, voice low and gritty. "I'm too broken to even work my ass off this seat."
The man didn't leave. Instead, he sat down beside him like he belonged there, like he wasn't offering a choice, just time.
He straightened his tie with precision and slid a sleek, black suitcase between them. His gloved fingers clicked open the small chrome latches.
Click. Click.
The case opened smoothly, releasing a faint hiss along with the intoxicating scent of freshly pressed currency.
Zane tilted his head, eyes widening. "Ohh… shit."
He stared…first at the man's calm face, then at the neat bundles of crisp currency arranged like sacred relics. His brain short-circuited for a second. In his mind, the money was already spent.
His mother's outrageous hospital fees.
A place that didn't reek of rust and poverty.
A really nice meal.
A life that wasn't survival every damn hour.
The man let the moment linger, his silence more seductive than words. He waited, letting Zane sit in the weight of what he could have.
"You were saying?" the man finally asked, voice sharp and poised.
Zane's hand moved instinctively, fingers stretching toward the cash only for the man to snap the case shut, hard. Reality returned like a slap.
He sat upright, adjusted his hoodie, and forced a breath through clenched teeth.
"Let's start again from the beginning, shall we?" he said, forcing a half-smile that didn't quite reach his tired eyes.
The man gave a faint nod.
"The DQHN is recruiting viable subjects for an ongoing classified program originally known as Project E.V.E. A synthetic-dimensional crossover initiative that failed... on the previous Earth."
"Project EVE?" Zane echoed, suspicion flickering in his eyes.
"It's been rebranded," the man said, reaching into his coat and pulling out a thin black chip card. He held it out between two fingers. "Now it's called Project ASCENSION."
Zane hesitated.
"What's this?"
"A chip key. Accept the offer, and it grants you direct access to Nexatech's lower ring. No queues. No ID scans. Just a touch."
Zane stared at it, heart hammering before he dashed it into his jacket pocket.
The man leaned closer, voice like a whisper wrapped in steel.
"Say yes… and your life changes. Say no? Well… walk away. Keep watching your mother's death prolonged."
"What's my cut in this?"
"Well…you might actually find the cure to your mother's illness."
His eyes shoned with purpose.
Zane's hand trembled as he reached for the card.And just as his fingers brushed it, something strange happened….
The card glowed faint blue, humming against his skin. He blinked as if the technology was not familiar to him.
"Fine. I'm in," Zane said, his voice flat but firm.
The gentleman stood up immediately, leaving the briefcase behind like it was dead weight.
Not giving the universe a single second to glitch on him, Zane yanked it off the seat and shoved it deep into his jacket as if some unseen entity might snatch it away at any moment.
"See you around whenever you are ready… boy." The man gave a knowing smirk as he disappeared into a waiting Carpod, its glass canopy folding over him like a predator's jaw.
Zane sat back down, his chest rising and falling, the weight of his decision crashing against him like a silent wave. He took a breath and opened the briefcase, careful not to ruin the delicate stacks of neatly pressed currency.
A small, folded currency note tucked between the wads caught his eye,he slowly pulled it out.
Before he could process what it meant, the scent of grilled protein and spiced oil from a nearby cart stand snapped his attention. His stomach growled. He walked over, slipping the note across the counter like it was a secret code.
The vendor, an old man with greying brows and an apron stained by the day, looked up and paused.
Zane stared back, calm… but gave in to his hungry stomach.
"Your order, sir?" the man asked.
"One flavored cream cheese… please."
The vendor nodded slowly. "One moment."
Clicks, whirs, and the mechanical signs of a vending processor filled the air. A small compartment popped open and the vendor handed him a branded pack wrapped in thermoplastic.
"Here you go."
Zane took it but before he could even tear the wrapper open…
"Oh, shit. Mother!" he suddenly blurted out, almost choking on his breath.
The vendor flinched as Zane spun on his heel and bolted, cheese still clenched in his teeth, making a run for the Carpod station across the street.
"You forget your change"
He didn't even look back until he reached the platform.Soln enough, a silver pod hovered down with a hiss.
But as he stepped inside…he noticed someone already sitting in the corner seat.
Staring right at him.And in his hand…
Was the same briefcase.