The cold… the smell… ugh.
"Headache" didn't even begin to cover what I was feeling as I woke. Light sneaked through my shades the same way it did every morning, and my hand automatically went for the headgear.
But something was off. The usual annoying sound that haunted me every dawn? Missing.
Wait… where's my—
"Oh fuck!" I yelped, sitting upright. "Oh fuck, oh shit, oh God!"
The alarm was on the floor. How had I forgotten to put it on!?
Scrambling out of bed, my eyes darted around the room, hunting for my uniform. "My clothe—" I sucked in a breath as the memory hit me.
No wonder the room smelled like a morgue. Behind my dainty little trashcan, a pile of bloody cloth—that had once been my work uniform—stared back at me.
"Oh man," I groaned, half-disgusted, half-panicked. "What time is it anyway? Thursday? Friday? Shit!"
I peeked out the door. A line of people was waiting for the toilet, but I ignored them and checked the clock: 9:31 a.m.
"Why!?"
If I'd overslept this badly, shouldn't I at least feel something good? Why did I feel… nothing?
The realization hit me like a punch, and all my adrenaline evaporated.
I closed the door and sat on my bed, staring at my hand.
I hadn't mentioned being late today, which meant hell awaited when I faced my manager. And that pile of rancid, bloody clothes behind the trashcan? Yeah… I had to deal with that too.
And I was an arch.
I was an arch.
Eryk Stern—archhuman.
The last few days had been vivid enough to make me doubt reality. The same brain tricks that kept me from blending the shows I watched on the BC at work with reality now refused to let me fully accept what had happened.
There was one undeniable test. My hand hovered over the chest on my bedside, shakily. Locked. I exhaled and grabbed the key hidden under the cracked floorboard, turning it twice. Heart thumping, I opened the lid.
The scrolls were still there, exactly where I'd left them. Anxiety ebbed slightly. Relief? Not quite.
"I see," I whispered. "I guess I'm an arch now."
Good that it was real—but nothing to celebrate yet. Responsibilities loomed. Serious adult decisions had to be made.
The line outside the toilet was long, so I went without. A quick wash at work would have to do.
Pinching the clean edges of my clothes behind the trashcan, I tossed them into the bin. After getting dressed in my barely-cleaner outfit, I grabbed the trash, locked the apartment, and headed out.
Walking to work, the combination of yesterday's head smack, freezing sleep, stink fumes, and a hangover gave me a headache that made every other pain fade—almost. Legs sore, shoulders like they had nails in them, stomach, neck, and glutes tense as hell.
Habit took over, and I trudged the usual route.
"Oh, fantastic," I muttered. The Bastard Barricade—the stupid fence—blocked my path again.
But today was different.
I squared my shoulders and approached the guard. "I have to get through," I said, trying to sound commanding.
"State your reason or provide verification, please," he replied smoothly.
"I… have to get to the other side," I said, wincing at how lame that sounded.
"Verification, sir," he repeated.
Why couldn't he sense my archhuman presence? Or did he just not care?
I realized I was at the absolute start of my first star. The second-star presence everyone talked about? Not yet.
Frustrated, I sighed. "You know what…? Have a good day," I said instead. Already late for work—what harm could a detour do? I turned and took the long way around the private district.
Jason, my manager, let out a long breath after I summarized my absence. "That's rough. You sure you're all right?"
"Yeah. I'm fine," I said. I didn't mention becoming an archhuman yet. Bragging without proof would only complicate things.
"Well…" He rifled through his messy desktop and handed me a paper. "Your message didn't say anything about an absence. I had to cover for you."
I glanced at the warning. Before I could read it, he summarized: "You'll fill half a shift in storage tonight. And I'm deducting the destroyed uniform from your paycheck."
My headache spiked. Grip tightening on the paper, I creased it.
"Go. Get up. Get a new uniform first," he barked, leaving me alone.
Minutes passed. When he returned, I crumpled the paper and tossed it at the garbage can—missed.
"What are you—"
"I'm leaving," I said, standing and bumping past him.
"Leaving!? You think surviving a break makes you tough? I'll fire you if—"
"You'll fire me?" I asked, stopping. "All right. I apologize. I'll get to work in a sec."
He scowled but had no time to argue further. I went to the back room to change.
At the register, headache pounding, a man slammed a basket down. "Hurry up, kid."
I moved the items at a glacial pace, maintaining eye contact. He jogged away in frustration.
Next, a woman threw a mountain of items and coupons on the counter—about 90% discount. Ignoring expired ones, I tore them to pieces.
She gaped. "Why did you do that!?"
"Why did I do what?" I asked innocently.
"You tore my coupons!"
"Which ones?" I replied.
She sputtered, then left, annoyed at the crowd's eyes.
By the day's end, handling rude customers felt surprisingly easy. Each straightforward solution dulled my headache just a little.
Later, the manager shook his head. "You're fired. Get out."
"Thanks, sir!" I said cheerfully.
"Uh… you wanted this, huh?" he muttered. "No compensation. Disappointed, Freddy."
"Don't worry," I said, grinning. "I got all the compensation I needed."
Walking home, my step had a bounce. Sunlight felt brighter, air fresher. I had chores in the 24th district anyway.
Paying taxes sucked, but my bank account made me grin.
Available Balance: $42,812.13
Not just a number. I'd saved for this—to become an arch. Now? I could do whatever I wanted.
Back in my apartment, the rotting-blood smell hit me like a punch. Room still filthy. No sheets. Exhausted.
I slapped my face and squared my shoulders. One last push. Clean, tidy, ready for a new life tomorrow.
With brisk hops around the apartment, I scrubbed the floor, window, fridge, and surfaces. Left the window open to air out, locked up, and dashed to the 25th district. Guard? ID showed, easy passage.
Charat Hypermarket—closest 24/7 store. Not as an employee. A customer.
Spending money voluntarily still felt like a foreign concept to him. His chest tightened as he stared down at the cart. A hundred dollars. On one shopping trip. For sheets, clothes, shoes, and food for tomorrow. Not exactly extravagant, but to Eryk, that was like throwing cash into a black hole.
The line at the register was mercifully short, so it didn't take long to unload the cart.
"Wait… Eryk?" The voice belonged to Jenny, a night-shift coworker he knew from before.
He gave a half-awkward wave, forcing a chuckle. "Yeah… it's me."
"Hi." She smiled briefly, but it didn't last. "I, uh… heard about earlier today. Sorry about what happened."
Eryk tilted his head, confused. "What?"
"Oh, no, don't worry—haha, that was… intentional," he said, trying to ease the tension.
"No, I mean—" Jenny hesitated. "I mean that too, but about the… break."
"Oh!" Relief hit, and he laughed softly. "Yeah, no, don't stress about it. I made out of that one like a bandit."
"You what!?"
"I—no, no, listen! I didn't steal anything," he said quickly, waving his hands. "I just… ended up manifesting a prime the next morning."
Her eyebrows rose in surprise before she extended a hand. "Oh. Wow, that's amazing. Congratulations!"
Eryk scratched the back of his neck and accepted the handshake, awkwardly but gratefully. "Thanks."
She scanned one of his shirts, then asked casually, "So… what're you gonna do now?"
Eryk froze. The question shouldn't have been that heavy, but it hit him like a wave. What was he going to do? His life had suddenly changed, and for the first time, a future of possibilities didn't scare him—it just… confused him.
He ran a hand through his hair, then felt a grin spread across his face. The most genuine one he'd offered anyone in a long time. "Honestly? I have absolutely no idea."
12:12 a.m.
Clothes washed, chores done, sheets clean, obligations temporarily sorted, headache gone. I fell asleep knowing tomorrow started a brand-new chapter.
Later, a gurgly voice called out:
"I adore you, Master… Why betray me? Bathe me again!"
I jolted awake. "Oh, for fuck's sake!"
Excitement quickly replaced fear. I grabbed the chest key, unlocked it, and lifted the lid—revealing the scrolls I'd hidden inside.