For once, Nox had slept well.
It wasnât every day he got to relaxâhis dreams filled with the rush of the rides, the wind in his fur, his friendsâ chatter and laughter in the background. But regardless of all the joy, there was something... off. A shadow lingering in the crowd, watching him.
The Protogen â he whispered in its robotic voice âI am 2739."
Noxâs ears twitched as he spotted the figure, its glowing details unmistakable even in the sea of people. But just as he recognized itâ
It was gone.
Vanished in the blink of an eye.
The next morning, he woke up late.
"Uaghh⦠whaâwhat time is it?"
Mumbling groggily, still half-asleep, he cracked open one eye to glance at his wristwatch.
"12:30?! Damn it, I gotta hurry up!"
Despite the rush, he inhaled deeply, savoring the lingering comfort of his bed before finally dragging himself out.
The city was already alive and in motion. Through the thin walls and open window, the usual urban symphony playedâchatter from the streets, the hum of trains and buses, the relentless pulse of Corelineâs daily grind.
Still rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Nox stumbled toward the kitchen, where his barely functioning coffee machine stood like a battle-worn soldier, its final days written all over its stained and rusted exterior.
"Okay, buddy, donât leave me today..."
With the delicate precision of a bomb technician, he carefully filled up the machine, treating it as if one wrong move could make it explode.
"Alright, done. Now I just need a mugâplease donât tell me I have to do dishes..."
Standing on his toes, he reached for the kitchen cabinet, feeling around blindly.
To his relief, there were two mugs left:
One was cheap white and featuring a clown with a big red nose, sarcastically clutching his face beneath the words: "Monday Again?"
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
The other was a black one, featuring the word "Coreline" printed across a skyline. Though, honestly, Nox wasnât sure if this city even had an end from which to view a skyline.
With a smirk, he instinctively grabbed the clown mug.
"Every day is Monday for me, but at least Iâve got my coffee."
As he waited for the machine to finish, he pulled out his phone, quickly swiping away the barrage of ads flooding his screen.
Some of them read:
"OUT! AD-BLOCKER BLOCKS ADS LIKE THESE FOR ONLY 14.99 C PER MONTH!"
or
"Are you lonely? Find animals like you all around Coreline! Theyâre just waiting for you!"
He grumbled under his breath, aggressively X-ing them awayâuntil he accidentally clicked on one, in Coreline you can rent a phone for half the price if you agree with enhanced advertisement.
"Damn it! I hate these ads... but I guess they help me finance this phone."
Once the invasive corporate harassment was cleared, he finally checked his messages.
Zee 00:15: "Are you home yet?"
Chet 11:15: "Meet at the junkyard at 13:45?"
Nox quickly typed back
Nox 12:35: "Sounds good to me! While weâre there, maybe we can find another coffee machine for me. The one I got last timeâs been on the edge for weeksâevery day could be its last. And with that, my life is in its hands."
He hit send, letting out a chuckle as he turned toward the mess that was his apartment floor.
He pulled on his wine-red T-shirt and looked around for the rest of his fit.
"I actually kinda liked that outfit... where did that damn hat goâah, there it is."
Plopping the hat back on his head, he turned toward the coffee maker just as it let out a strained, final hissâthe coffee was done.
Mug in hand, he took a sip, staring out the window.
"Why not enjoy this outside?"
slowly, he climbed through the window, coffee still steady in his paws.
"Careful now⦠donât wanna spill anything."
The misty air of Coreline greeted him with its usual stench of morningânot that it was much different from the stuffy air inside his apartment. Still, it was fresher⦠though definitely not cleaner.
He settled onto the shaky sheet-metal roof, his legs dangling back and forth as he scanned the street below.
The usual morning rush was in full swing.
Suits and briefcasesâcorporate workers, lawyers, or as Nox liked to call them, slaves to the system.
Heavyset figures in thick work uniformsâconstruction workers, waste disposal teams, laborers trudging off for another long shift.
The hiss of a bus arriving, passengers shuffling in and out like clockwork.
Down below, Lutenâs tea shop was already open, the old salamander serving customers with his usual patience. Business wasnât exactly booming, but it was enough.
Nox took another sip of his coffee, exhaling.
"Lucky me."
He wasnât part of the system.
He didnât have a boss breathing down his neck, no rigid schedule dictating his every moveâ¦Although that wasnât completely the truth.
But as he stared down at the people below, he couldnât shake the thoughtâ
Would it really have been so bad to fit in somewhere?
To belong?
The last drop of coffee vanished from his mug.
Checking his watch againâ13:00.
"Alright⦠time to get going."
His mind briefly drifted back to last night.
CoreCoaster.
Laughter, chaos, and unexpected kindness.
Shaking off the thoughts, he crawled back inside, dressed up in his coat and scarf, pulled on his boots, and placed the mug somewhere heâd probably regret later.
With a final stretch, he stepped outsideâ
Time to meet Chet.