A New Day

11:34 — February 14, 2274
Five hours and fifteen minutes until the fall.

At the edge of death,
there is no choice—only response.

CRASH.

Seth bursts through the glass—
free-falling from the 9th floor.

But the worst part wasn't the fall,
it was what came after.

FWOOOSH.

A writhing mass of tentacles reached for his back
while the void embraced him.

In that instant—
the outcome was already decided.

—Five hours earlier—

BEEEP. BEEEP. BEEEP.

His phone alarm shattered the morning silence.

Seth gasped awake, his eyes locking on the screen where the words burned, bold and undeniable:

5:30 02/14/2274—Recon mission.

He turned off the alarm, pushing himself up from the bed, then he dressed in his new uniform. The fabric felt strange against his skin, yet with every piece he fastened, a quiet excitement built within him.

Looking at his legs, his chest, and the backpack slung over his shoulder, he stood frozen before the mirror, utterly perplexed.

"I almost look like someone important..."

Was the reflection in the mirror truly him? Or just an impostor in a costume, painfully aware that his 'support role' meant nothing?

Suddenly, his eyes met their own gaze in the glass. For a fleeting second, he remembered the strange dream from three days before.

That exhausted face...it was the same from...

"Whatever. I gotta go."

Shaking his head as if to dispel the memory.

He went downstairs. On the ground floor, the breakfast was waiting on the table. At first glance, it looked well-made, but a closer look revealed the clumsy, improvised packaging it was wrapped in.

Next to the peculiar breakfast lay a note that read:

"Good luck. -Beck"

"He leaves a lot to be desired as a chef, but never as a brother," Seth murmured with a faint smile.

He put on his headphones as usual and stepped out into the cold morning. The chirping of sparse birds accompanied his walk to the station. Under the bright sun, he watched the long shadows it cast across the trees and pavement.

The morning felt different: sharper, more alive. More than just a new day, it felt like a thin chance to scrape away the past.

Finally, my first mission, I bet everything on this.

A sign looms before him:  

Hibüra Rail—Tantra Line 3-45.

Swiping his card, Seth merges into the crowded station. A low murmur of voices fills the air: office workers clutching coffees, but above all, complaints about the delay.

"It's been fifteen minutes, and the damn train isn't here!" someone to his right snapped into their phone.

To his left, a sleepy little girl's voice trembles: "Mom, I don't want to go to school…"

FWOOOSHHHH

The train arrives, slicing through the station's rhythm. The crowd shifts instantly into an urgent tide to board.

Seth, however, stares at the train itself, a technical marvel of carriages suspended in mid-air, composed of so complex architecture that it is utterly eclipsed by the mundane normality with which people treat it.

He stops daydreaming as the train leaves, takes out his phone, and checks the address he needs to reach:

Lipent-3-118 Station

"Okay, it's supposed to be... mmm, around here."

He walks to a monitor displaying the station map:

Hibüra Rail- Tantra line 3-45:

●Tantra - Jado (South)
●Tantra - Grone (West)
●Tantra - Lipent (North)

Thank you for traveling with us!

"Okay, so I'll take the line to Lipent, um... and get off at floor 118." He scratches the back of his neck. "Okay… Never thought I'd go this far, let alone to the north side of Hibüra. Anyway, too late for regrets."

Inside the train, his nerves are almost like a live wire, but today, hesitation is not an option. The music pulses in his headphones, the train speeds forward, and his mind races, processing, planning, refusing to stop.

Slowly, his memory begins to submerge the details of the mission that the receptionist gave him yesterday:

"Look, the objective is to scout and prepare a report on the current state of the area. It's an old university located on the border of the lower zones, specifically floor 118," she indicated on a tablet map. "The permit includes combat if you encounter any Rem hybrids or Rem beasts, only if necessary. However, in your case, you'll only be supporting your companions. You'll be provided with basic armor and weaponry."

The receptionist looked up to Seth.

"Everything clear?"

"Yes."

6:15 — February 14, 2274

Forty-five minutes later, a friendly voice echoed throughout the train car:

"Lipent Station! Attention, this is the last stop on Line 3. Thank you for traveling with us!"

BEEP, BEEP, BEEP... The train doors beep as he steps off.

Between the layers of steel and glass, fragments of older structures still surface, curved rooftops and wooden beams sealed behind transparent alloy.

Remnants of a country the city had swallowed long ago.

The train pulls away, and with it, the brief illusion of motion.
Suddenly, the air feels thicker than usual, smelling of hot metal and visible dust. 

This is Floor 118—one of the Lower Zones of Hibüra.

For Seth, it isn't the first time he's felt out of place. But this time is different. Not because of the place, not because of the mission, but because of who is around him.

At the station exit stands a group of four high-ranking students of the Rem academy, between 17 and 18 years old, who exude an almost arrogant confidence.

"Well, looks like we're all here. Move out, it's this way," a guy with a commanding attitude pointed out.

"Hey, but that's the outskirts of the city," another one replied, frowning as if he were deciphering an imaginary map.

"Exactly, because that's where we're going, Wes," the first one retorted, visibly irritated.

"Ugh! Do you want to hurry up? This sun is melting me," interrupted a girl who looked like she'd stepped out of a fashion magazine.

"Did you even read the mission details, Wes?" another girl chimed in, her patience clearly wearing thin. "It clearly says it's on a border with the lower areas."

"I've been busy! With… uh, stuff. Anyway, I didn't have time, you know?" Wes shrugged, nonchalant.

Slowly, the easy peace between them began to raise red flags for Seth.

Looks like I'm the only stranger here... he thought, disheartened.

There was no need for introductions; Seth recognized them instantly. They were the prodigious Group 05, second-year students:

Grant Mercer.
A natural leader, the mayor's son. Pure confidence and power.

Cass Sterling.
The second-in-command astute, resolute, and the only one whose gaze didn't pierce him with disdain.

Wes Carter.
Heir to SABLE Industries, carefree and loud, but with a gaze that took everything in.

Mira Voss.
Popular, eloquent, impeccable. She had everything Seth lacked.

And there he was.

Seth Harper.
The rookie, the backup, the reason teams carry reserves.