Chapter 2: Unexpected Spark

The diner was its usual mess of noise and activity as Gaona stepped behind the counter, tying on his apron. The familiar hum of clattering plates and scraping forks filled the air. His boss was already yelling from the kitchen, as if chaos was the natural state of things here.

“Table seven’s waiting! Get the coffee out before I do it myself!”

Gaona sighed and grabbed the pot of coffee. He moved between the tables with the efficiency of someone who had done this a thousand times, taking orders and refilling mugs without really engaging with anyone.

But then she walked in.

The bell above the door jingled, and a hush seemed to fall over the room for just a moment. Aria was unlike anyone Gaona had ever seen in Civic Sector Delta. Her beauty was almost unsettling—her features too perfect, her posture too poised. She was a vision of elegance in a place that had long forgotten what that word even meant.

She took a seat by the window, her green eyes scanning the room with an air of quiet confidence.

The Center of Attention

It didn’t take long for the other patrons to notice her. Men glanced her way, some with shy curiosity, others with bold, lingering stares. A few of them whispered among themselves, making bets about who might get the courage to approach her.

Gaona stayed behind the counter, his eyes darting toward her but never lingering too long. He had no reason to interact with someone like that. She was out of place here, and he was just another face in the crowd.

“Gaona!” his boss’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “Where’s the busboy? Table three needs clearing!”

Gaona sighed, grabbing a rag and heading toward the table. The busboy had probably called out again. It wasn’t unusual for him to get stuck with someone else’s work.

As he cleared the table, Aria caught his eye. She tilted her head slightly, a small smile playing on her lips. Gaona froze for a moment, unsure if she was looking at him or someone behind him. But when he glanced around, there was no one else in her line of sight.

Portillo / Eternal Code /

Portillo / Eternal Code /

“Excuse me,” she said, her voice soft but clear.

Gaona set the tray down and hesitantly walked over to her table. “Can I help you?”

“You look… tired,” she said, her gaze studying him. “Do you ever take a break?”

Gaona blinked, caught off guard by the question. “Not really,” he admitted.

“That’s a shame,” she said, leaning back in her chair. “You deserve one.”

He didn’t know how to respond to that. No one had ever said something like that to him before, especially not a stranger.

A Cryptic Encounter

For the next few minutes, they talked—or rather, she talked, and he answered in short, awkward sentences. She asked about his job, his day, and whether he’d ever thought about doing something else with his life.

“I guess I’ve thought about it,” he said finally. “But… this is what I’ve got right now.”

Her expression softened, almost as if she pitied him. “You seem like someone who could do more.”

Gaona laughed dryly. “Yeah, well, life doesn’t always give you options.”

She didn’t argue with that. Instead, she reached into her bag and pulled out some cash, sliding it across the table.

“This should cover my coffee,” she said.

“You didn’t order any coffee,” Gaona pointed out.

She smiled. “Consider it a tip, then.”

Before he could respond, she stood up and walked out, the bell above the door jingling as she left. Gaona stared after her, confused and a little unsettled.

The Forgotten Ticket

As he cleared her table, something caught his eye. A small, folded piece of paper sat beneath the edge of the placemat. He picked it up and unfolded it, his breath catching in his throat when he saw what it was.

An Archon Lottery Ticket.

Portillo / Eternal Code /

Portillo / Eternal Code /

Gaona glanced toward the door, but she was already gone. He looked around the diner, wondering if she had left it behind by mistake. No one seemed to notice or care.

For a moment, he debated what to do. He could leave it with his boss or try to track her down. But something stopped him.

He slipped the ticket into his pocket, a strange mix of guilt and curiosity gnawing at him.

The rest of his shift passed in a blur, but his thoughts kept drifting back to her—her confidence, her strange kindness, and the ticket she had left behind.

As he walked home that night, the ticket felt heavier than it should have, as if it carried more than just a chance at a prize.

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