Opportunity

The cursor blinked on the holographic screen, an insistent light that seemed to mock Leo as he reread the same sentence for the fourth time.

“Your profile does not meet our current needs.”

He closed his eyes, trying to suppress the knot forming in his throat. It had been weeks since he lost his job at Krynn, and each day dragged on in a cruel cycle of applications and rejections.

Sitting on the couch, he looked around the apartment as if the space itself accused him of failure. Lucy’s tools dominated the room, taking over makeshift workbenches and even parts of the floor. Copper wires and gears were scattered among unfinished devices. Everything bore her touch, a meticulous chaos that, despite its disorder, exuded life. But even that felt different lately. Lucy was barely home anymore. She left early, returned late, and the few conversations they had were brief and devoid of her usual energy.

Leo didn’t know what was wrong, but the distance between them grew like an invisible wall.

The communicator on the table buzzed, pulling him out of his thoughts. He grabbed it quickly, expecting another rejection, but the voice on the other end caught him off guard.

“Mr. Leonardo Gray?”

“Yes, this is him,” he replied, his voice hesitant.

“This is Innova Corp. We’ve reviewed your profile and would like to invite you for an interview today at 4 PM. Are you available?”

Leo’s heart raced, and for a moment, he couldn’t respond. “Yes! Yes, I’m available. I’ll be there,” he said hurriedly.

The call ended abruptly, but he kept holding the communicator, absorbing the opportunity. It was as if the air around him had changed. After weeks of closed doors, he could finally see a crack of light.

He glanced at the holographic clock in the corner of the room: 2:15 PM. There was no time to lose. He grabbed his bag and rushed out of the apartment, almost running. “I can’t mess this up,” he murmured to himself.

Leo stepped outside with hurried strides, the weight of the communicator in his pocket a constant reminder of how important this moment was. The suburbs bustled around him like a living organism. The narrow streets were clogged with people, all moving with haste.

He climbed onto the rooftops, taking his usual route. Each jump was a promise, each foothold a commitment. But as he approached the central district, the contrast became stark.

In the distance, the skyscrapers gleamed, their flawless surfaces reflecting holograms dancing in the sky. It was as if an entirely different world existed just a few kilometers from the chaos Leo knew so well. But between him and that bright world stood a barrier: the checkpoint.

He descended to join the line, where guards and drones scrutinized everyone trying to enter. The metallic arch loomed like a steel guardian, radiating a coldness that seeped into the bones of anyone who approached. Green lights pulsed like watchful eyes as a mechanical voice repeated commands in a monotonous tone that vibrated through the ground. The line moved slowly, and every second felt like an eternity.

The people in line looked as worn as the ground beneath their feet. An elderly man clutched a patched-up bag with trembling hands as he offered his documents. A young woman, carrying a child, argued softly with a guard while a drone hovered menacingly nearby. Leo looked away, feeling the weight of the wait—and the suspicion—accumulate on his shoulders like an invisible hand.

When his turn came, the guard didn’t need to say anything. His sharp eyes scanned Leo from head to toe with the kind of automatic distrust reserved for anyone who didn’t belong to that world.

“Name and reason for visit,” he finally said, his voice heavy with exhaustion that didn’t hide his disdain. Leo took a deep breath before answering, his heart pounding faster.

“Leonardo Gray. I have an interview at Innova Corp.”

The guard raised an eyebrow, finally looking at him with a mixture of disapproval and curiosity.

“Suburb?” the man asked, typing something into the tablet strapped to his arm.

Leo nodded, fighting the urge to react to the tone.

“Wait here,” the guard ordered as the metallic arch emitted a hum that seemed to amplify Leo’s anxiety.

Leo watched as the guard briefly conversed with a drone lazily circling overhead. The hum of machines filled the air, drowning out any hope of progress. Every second felt slower. Fifteen minutes dragged by, but the wait felt like an eternity.

When the guard finally returned, he gestured for Leo to pass through the arch.

“You’re clear,” the man said, though his tone suggested otherwise.

Leo took a deep breath and stepped forward, crossing the metallic arch. But the moment he crossed the threshold, a sharp, piercing sound ripped through the air.

BEEP-BEEP-BEEP!

“Hold it,” the guard ordered, now looking alarmed. He checked the tablet, where a red notification flashed incessantly.

“What’s going on?” Leo asked, tension building in his chest.

“There’s an issue with your identifier. Inconsistent signal,” the man replied, frowning.

“But I already passed the scan! There’s nothing wrong!” Leo tried to argue, but the guard raised a hand to silence him, calling over two more drones. They appeared quickly, their blue beams flickering like blades around Leo.

“You’re being detained for secondary inspection,” the guard announced. “Wait over there.”

Leo was escorted to a separate area, where rows of metal chairs were arranged in perfect lines, like an improvised waiting room that promised no resolution. The cold metal against his back was a constant reminder of his position there. The drones buzzed uncomfortably close, their blue beams analyzing every detail, while the guard’s gaze seemed to bore into the back of his neck as though every second of waiting was a silent accusation.

The minutes trickled by like sand in a broken hourglass. He checked the clock repeatedly, sweat dripping down his temples. Around him, the murmurs of others in line had turned into furtive glances and silent accusations. He felt the weight of humiliation. It was as if he was already guilty of something, even without knowing what.

After almost twenty minutes, another guard appeared his expression even sterner.

“It was just a system error,” the new man said. “He’s clear to go.”

“System error?” Leo repeated, incredulous. “I just lost more than half an hour because of that!”

But the guard was already walking away, indifferent, as the drones retreated.

With clenched fists and a face burning with frustration, Leo crossed the metallic arch and darted through the central streets.

The city’s center gleamed with a perfection that felt unnatural as if every building were a monument to exclusion. While the suburbs pulsed with disorganized life and familiar noise, here everything was controlled, too clean, even silent—a world where he felt like an intruder.

He spotted the building. The skyscrapers that had once dotted the horizon like unattainable dreams now loomed over him, imposing and oppressive. Their glass facades reflected the pale sky, but Leo couldn’t feel awe. It was as if those steel giants were watching him, weighing every hesitant step he took toward the pristine entrance.

He looked at the clock. Thirteen minutes late.

“Damn it,” he whispered to himself, feeling the weight of time slipping through his fingers.

Leo took a deep breath and stepped hesitantly toward the entrance. Each movement was heavy as if the shadows of the buildings were pulling him back. This wasn’t just an edifice. It was a reminder of everything he wasn’t—and everything he might never be.