Panic seized me instantly. My limbs went numb with terror; it felt as if time had become an invisible monster, clawing its way out of my reach.
Every 'tick-tock' of the pocket watch in Dad's hand felt like a hammer blow to my heart, the rhythm of my fear accelerating with every passing second.
"YOU SHOULD HAVE TOLD ME SOONER!"
I practically screamed.
Finishing breakfast was out of the question. I lunged from the table, nearly knocking my chair over, and sprinted toward my room. My entire body was vibrating with a cocktail of adrenaline and pure anxiety.
Dad calmly snapped the pocket watch shut with a sharp clack and tucked it back into his vest. He tilted his head toward my open door and shouted:
"I assumed you had packed your essentials already. I didn't think you'd wait until the final second on such a monumental day! Now, move those hands and get out of here!"
His words sounded like a roar, but they barely registered. My nerves were firing like high-voltage wires. My brain was locked onto one singular, brutal truth:
Being late for the seminar meant the end of everything. I had to pack and vanish from this house now.
I didn't have the luxury of listening to his lectures. An imaginary clock was ticking inside my skull, each second ringing like a death knell. Poisonous questions swarmed my mind:
What if the iron gates of the seminar slam shut right in my face?
Even if they let me in, how could I endure the shame of sneaking in like a thief while everyone else is focused?
Worst of all—will I even find an Omnibus at this hour?
I couldn't waste another heartbeat. I refused to let another year of my life go down the drain like it did back in kindergarten. I wouldn't survive that cursed wait a second time.
I burst into my room and snatched my bag off the hanger. But as I lunged toward the dresser, disaster struck. My foot landed square on a stray water bottle.
THUD!
The entire room seemed to shake as I slammed into the floor.
A pained groan escaped my lips.
"I think I just broke every bone in my body!"
"What was that noise now? Durlav!"
Dad's voice drifted in from the next room.
I didn't have time to answer. Ignoring the throbbing pain, I gritted my teeth and forced myself up. I scrambled to the dresser, yanking it open. I grabbed whatever my hands touched—shirts, pants, socks—and stuffed them into the bag with zero grace. In seconds, the bag was bulging and lopsided.
Whatever I have is enough!
I hoisted the bag over my shoulder and bolted for the door. I didn't even think about changing. The black t-shirt and pants I'd put on this morning were all I had. I didn't look at the mirror. If this was the outfit I was meant to meet my fate in, then so be it!
As I tried to blow past the living room like a hurricane, Dad blocked my path. He placed a hand on my shoulder, a teasing smirk on his face.
"Go carefully, boy! At the rate you're running, you'll trip and fall into the river. You'll end up floating all the way to the Great Cross Ocean!"
My temper flared at his ill-timed joke.
"STOP MOCKING ME FOR ONCE! I'M LEAVING!"
I didn't look back. The thunderous sound of my boots hit the stairs, echoing through the building. The sound grew faint to Dad's ears as I burst through the front door and hit the pavement.
***
The gray sky of Quad City always seemed draped in a veil of coal smoke; the sun was nothing more than a pale, exhausted silver disc. Outside the Central Station, gothic-style skyscrapers rose like ancient giants. Towering above them all was the Quad Tower—a monument to the city's arrogance. The massive structure of iron and stone pierced through the smog. Its gargantuan clock didn't just tell time; it acted like the city's heartbeat, announcing with every heavy, somber tick:
Quad is awake, and it never stops.
The true pulse of the city lay on the Golden River. It cut through the heart of the city, carrying a dark, toxic, greenish current. Giant cargo barges and fleets of high-speed motorboats roared across its surface. The engine noise was a constant, low growl that drowned out the urban chatter. On the jetties, porters and merchants moved with a frantic energy; this waterway was the lifeline of the city's fortune.
At every corner, the metallic screech of electric trams blended with the brassy honks of automobiles. Those shiny metal coffins sped past horse-drawn carriages with arrogant speed. In the narrow alleys, the yellow glow of kerosene lamps mingled with the damp, musky smell of the sewers. People were everywhere—boys in flat caps hawking newspapers, men in stiff collars and black suits marching with briefcases. Everyone was chasing the future. It felt as if the city was trying to balance its ancient traditions with its high-tech dreams, and the old brickwork was gasping for air under the pressure.
***
I ran along the banks of the Golden River like a gust of wind. The distance from our building to the Omnibus station wasn't great, but right now, every inch felt like a mile. Even at full sprint, it takes three minutes—and those three minutes were currently deciding my destiny.
During the sprint, I glanced up at the monstrous Quad Tower. The rhythmic ticking of that massive clock didn't sound like a warning today; it sounded like a funeral march. It was enough to make my blood run cold. It felt as if the clock hands were playing a cruel game with me.
My lungs were screaming for air, and my clothes were soaked with sweat. Finally, after three grueling minutes, I reached the Omnibus station. My heart skipped a beat as I looked ahead through blurred vision.
An Omnibus was actually standing there! The conductor was calling out, and passengers were scrambling aboard. The horses were restless, pawing the ground, ready to gallop.
A massive sigh of relief escaped me.
"I'm saved! I'm actually saved!!!"
I was the last passenger to board. As I stepped up, I glanced at the old gray box hanging by the door. Faded letters listed the routes and fares.
Standing by the door was the conductor. He wore a heavy wool coat with a stiff collar and polished brass buttons that caught the dim light. A flat-topped uniform cap sat on his head, and a metal whistle hung from his chest by a chain, ready to signal the departure.
The station near the headquarters was the third stop on this route. According to the rules, I had to drop 20 coins into the box.
"I'm getting off at the third station. Here's twenty coins," I said, reaching into my pocket.
The conductor looked at me, sighed softly, and said, "Yes sir, just give twenty coins for now."
I paused, confused. "What do you mean 'for now'?"
"Well, sir, the fare has actually gone up to 20 coin's and 9 Buck's. This is an old carriage; we forgot to update the sign on the box. Legally, I can't take more than what's written on the box. This isn't a private service where we can just charge whatever we want."
I smirked to myself.
"Why the sudden price hike? They might as well have made it a flat 30 coin's."
The conductor gripped the handrail as the carriage jerked.
"The government spent a bit too much on the last Prime Festival. You know how grand it was! It's been years since someone reached the rank of Third Tier Prime, after all. So—"
I stopped listening.
Third Tier Prime!
My chest swelled with pride. He was talking about my father. The man the whole city celebrated was my own flesh and blood. For a fleeting second, I felt like royalty.
With that proud smile on my face, I slid my hand into my pocket.
Then, my entire body went ice-cold.
Horror washed over me. My pocket was empty. Nothing but a hollow void.
The glow on my face vanished, replaced by a pale, sickly mask of shock. I swallowed hard and looked at the conductor with trembling eyes.
"I... I'm ruined..."
…
The horses galloped, and the Omnibus pulled away. It disappeared into a cloud of dust, carrying its crowd of passengers into the distance.
But I wasn't among them.
With a pale, desolate face, I stared blankly at the gray city. In my extreme despair, my right eyelid began to twitch uncontrollably. And then, without any warning, the sky broke open, and the rain came pouring down.
Is the sky weeping for my misery?
Or is nature just throwing a cruel celebration to mock me?
Why does this always happen to me?
A silent scream tore through my soul, drowned out by the roar of the rain.
…
I took shelter under the awning of a roadside shop. The tin roof extended just far enough to keep the spray off me, but I was already soaked to the bone. Even the bag on my back hadn't been spared. I could only hope the clothes inside were still dry.
Now what?
Do I go back home, get money, and wait for another Omnibus?
Do I wait for the rain to stop and run to headquarters like a madman?
But how could I walk into the seminar looking like a drowned rat?
Defeated, I sank to my knees on the wet pavement. Why was my luck so cursed?
Is this miserable fate ever going to change?
I remembered the time I tripped into a sewer on my way to school. I had to walk into class smelling like literal filth. Today felt like history repeating itself in the cruelest way possible.
I huddled there, wrapped in a blanket of despair, listening to the rhythmic drumming of the rain.
Suddenly, a sharp cry pierced through the noise—"Rain! Rain! Ugh, why now??"
I stood up, startled. Through the hazy street, someone was running toward me, shielding their head with their hands!
Even through the curtain of rain, I could tell this was no ordinary person. It was a girl—strikingly beautiful, likely around my age. Even from a distance, her beauty seemed to pierce through the gray gloom like a flash of light.
For a moment, my old disease flared up—my deep-seated fear of girls!
My heart began to thud against my ribs. But then I thought, What could possibly be worse than what's already happened today?
I cupped my hands around my mouth and shouted with all my strength, "YOU'LL GET SOAKED RUNNING LIKE THAT! COME UNDER THE AWNING!"
The girl seemed to hear me. But the next second, my blood ran cold—she was charging straight toward me for shelter!
She was coming exactly where I was standing. My heart felt like it was going to burst through my chest.
Just as she reached the edge of the awning, disaster struck. The wet pavement had become a slippery death trap. The moment her foot hit the shelter's floor, she slipped. Unable to catch her balance, she came crashing directly onto me!
"WATCH OUT!!"
My scream died in my throat. The weight of her body sent me flying backward. My back slammed into the hard, wet floor with a sickening thud. But the sharp pain was instantly eclipsed by a sensation that paralyzed my entire nervous system.
Even with my eyes squeezed shut, I felt my hand resting on something impossibly soft and warm. Trembling with shock and intense discomfort, I slowly opened my eyes.
My world came to a grinding halt.
My hand was resting directly on her chest.