Aurex snapped awake at 6:00 a.m. The city's internal clock was etched into his bones, rendering the morning bell obsolete. He rose, a practiced, vacant smile blooming on his face in the mirror, and stepped into the bathroom. The shower water, perpetually lukewarm, was a perfect mirror of their city , never cold enough to shock, never hot enough to soothe. No edges, no extremes. He washed in a manufactured silence, his smile unwavering even as soap stung his eyes.
By 7:00 a.m., he was at the breakfast table, a quiet ritual of forced cheer. His father was already there, lost behind the same tattered magazine, his black coffee a dark, unyielding counterpoint to his mother's unnervingly bright, blank expression as she sipped orange juice. Lira, his twenty-two-year-old sister, a teacher already perfected in the art of calm, chewed her unbuttered toast with a serene smile. Little Jeno, his feet swinging wildly under the table, his grin too wide, too innocent, was a jarring splash of unfiltered joy.
"Good morning!" they chorused, a perfectly timed, hollow echo.
"Morning," Aurex replied, his own voice bright and chipper, his smile just revealing the right amount of teeth. He chewed the toast, cardboard in his mouth not because it was poorly made, but because the very idea of flavor had long since been bleached from their world.
At 7:15, Lira rose, adjusting her impossibly perfect collar. "I'm off," she announced, the same three words, the same calm cadence, every single day. She taught at Eastblock Primary, right next to Aurex's school. He sometimes saw her, a beacon of perpetual stillness, walking with her smiling students.
Aurex and Jeno left together at 7:30. The soft clatter of their mother washing dishes, a domestic, comforting sound that somehow still felt performative, followed them out the door. Their father would leave at 9:00, no sooner, no later. Their mother, the silent guardian of the home, always stayed behind. The city hummed on, its rhythm an unbreaking, monotonous chant. But deep inside Aurex, something was beginning to fracture.
School was less a place of learning and more a smiling, insidious cage. Aurex slid into his usual seat ,the same one as yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that. But today, the seat in front of him was gone.
Not empty. Gone. The desk had been meticulously removed, as if it had never existed. "Renn" had vanished from the attendance list. The teacher, a flawless automaton, didn't even blink.
"One: You must smile.
Two: No killing."
The ten rules, recited like a sacred creed. The lesson began, but Aurex heard nothing. His smile was fixed, an agonizing mask, while his mind replayed the chilling image of Renn, struggling for a final, compliant smile, before being swallowed by that blinding light. Before this, Aurex had swallowed the official truth: those who were "erased" had to have broken some vital rule. They deserved it. But Renn... Renn had been kind. Quiet. Careful. He wasn't rebellious, or dangerous. He was just... a person.
And in that moment, Aurex felt a cold, hard truth land in his gut for the first time: this city wasn't just cold. It was an empty, echoing lie. No one spoke Renn's name. No one dared to ask. Even the seat behind his had been pulled forward, sealing the wound, making it as though Renn had never lived. And through it all, Aurex smiled. Because he had to. But beneath that forced cheer, a defiant spark ignited, burning a hole in his carefully constructed world.
Break time. Aurex's eyes immediately found him: the boy who had trembled the day Renn vanished. Same uniform, same unsettling paleness. He sat alone on a bench near the garden wall, hands clasped so tightly in his lap his knuckles were white, his back unnaturally straight. His smile was a ghastly parody, and his eyes... they were bloodshot. Aurex couldn't tear his gaze away.
Two boys strolled past, their laughter too loud, too empty. "Hey, why are your eyes red?" one chirped, his voice a bright, meaningless melody.
The boy turned, his smile still pasted on, and then, a sound ripped from his throat that made Aurex's blood run cold. It wasn't a polite giggle. It wasn't even a laugh. It was a full, broken cackle, raw and desperate, that made heads snap in their direction.
"I always keep my eyes open!" he shrieked, his voice cracking. "That's why they get red!"
The other boys laughed, a little too quickly, and sped away. The boy remained, hunched on the bench. Aurex stood frozen, his own smile an agonizing rictus. That strange burning sensation in his chest intensified, a sharp, suffocating pressure against his ribs. He desperately wanted to speak to him. But what if the boy wasn't like him? What if he was something far more dangerous, far more broken?
After class, he had a precious fifteen minutes before Jeno was done. Not much, but enough to snatch a breath of forbidden air. He slipped out of the schoolyard, taking the side path that curved past the west wall. His steps were slow, deliberate, his hands stiff at his sides. The ever-present smile remained, but his eyes darted left and right, absorbing every detail of this forgotten corner.
The buildings here were older, cloaked in dust, and unsettlingly quiet. A lonely shutter banged in the faint breeze. No cheerful music, no carefree laughter, no decorative flower pots on the windowsills. It felt like stepping into another world entirely.
Then a voice sliced through the silence. "Hey," someone called out. "You're from the next class, right?"
Aurex spun around. The boy looked maybe eighteen, a little taller than Aurex, wearing the same uniform, but his hair was a pleasant mess. His smile, though, was what truly caught Aurex off guard , it seemed... looser. More real.
Aurex didn't reply. Speaking in the street, especially to strangers, was forbidden.
But the boy just chuckled, a sound that held genuine amusement. "Relax. It's still school time. Still school area. Technically, we're not breaking anything." He leaned closer, hands shoved casually into his pockets. Aurex's heart hammered against his ribs. Was this true? Or was it a trap?
"You're heading toward a non-inhabited zone," the boy continued, his voice low. "Just thought you should know. Not safe. Empty places... well, they get noticed."
Aurex offered a faint nod, then turned and walked away. The boy didn't follow. He just lifted a hand in a loose wave and called out, "See you, silly guy."
Jeno was waiting by the gate, a bright, unburdened presence. "Hi!" he chirped. "Did you get out late?"
"No. Just took a wrong turn," Aurex replied, his voice perfectly smooth, his expression utterly blank, revealing nothing. Together, they walked home. By 4:00 p.m., they were opening their front door. Their mother, still in her apron, greeted them. The table was already set, and Lira and their father were sitting down, eating the same bland meal they always ate.
At 4:30, they gathered in the living room. It was "Rule Time." They didn't call it that out loud, of course, but that's what it was. His mother's voice was a soft hum. "Isn't Rule Eight wonderful? It keeps us safe." His father nodded, his voice equally placid. "I like Rule Seven. The streets stay clean." His sister, ever the dutiful one, added, "Rule One is the most important. We must all smile. Always."
Aurex nodded, his own voice unwavering, his smile unwavering. "It's a good system," he said. But in the periphery of his vision, his mother's eye twitched. Just once. A tiny, involuntary flicker of something unseen. Then it was gone, absorbed back into her placid mask.
At 5:30, he took his shower. At 6:00, the house hushed as everyone retreated to their rooms, doors clicking shut, lights extinguishing. Their unspoken house rule: no one came out past 6 p.m.
At 10:00 p.m., a deafening bell ripped across the city, a single, resonant tone vibrating through every home. It was the signal for sleep. It meant silence. It meant you had survived another day. Aurex lay in bed, eyes wide open, staring at the unyielding ceiling. He couldn't stop thinking about the boy with the red eyes. About the stranger who had offered a whispered warning. And about Renn.