A choked gasp of pain escaped Neville as he slamd the door to his room shut. He leaned against it, his knuckles white where he gripped the handle.
"Damn it all..." he hissed through clenched teeth.
[Host, you endured so well! You were amazing! (❤ ω ❤)] Shelly materialized beside him, shimring with cheerful light.
Neville shot her a venomous glare, shoving himself off the door. "No thanks to the useless floating paperweight who’s supposed to help with this."
Every step toward the kitchen was agony, a thousand sharp needles stabbing into his calves. He ignored Shelly’s concerned fluttering and threw open the cupboards in a frenzy.
Thankfully, the interstellar Airbnb was well-stocked. He spotted a large container labeled ’NaCI—Culinary Grade’ and ripped it off the shelf. He did not even care about the ticulous, vacuum-sealed packaging.
[Allow to assist you, Host!] Shelly went ahead and turned on the tap for the tub. The sound of rushing water filled the small apartnt.
Neville limped past, not giving her a word of thanks.
He didn’t bother asuring.
The entire pack went into the tub, a cloud of white crystals dissolving in the churning water. He stirred it once with a trembling hand before practically collapsing into the tub, clothes and all.
For a second, the burning intensified, a searing fire consuming him from the waist down.
Then, relief.
Then, the stabbing pain turned into a dull, throbbing ache.
Beneath the water, he felt his legs dissolve and transform into his familiar, powerful silver-black tail.
He never had his legs transford into a tail since becoming a human again.
[Host, your vitals are stabilizing.] Shelly announced, her tone losing a fraction of its usual cheer. [But you got injured from the dehydration. You cannot maintain your human form for that long without proper hydration protocols.]
"I know." Neville dismissively replied, barely a whisper. He let his head fall back against the rim of the tub, finally letting his eyes drift shut.
Silence was deafening.
There were only a few occasional sounds of dripping water from his tail against the tub.
An hour passed, and his muscles slowly recovered; he could feel that he could transform his tail back into human legs again. But given the peaceful ti, he just let his tail soak for a few minutes.
Just as a sliver of peace settled over him, a sharp beep from his light brain was heard. He pressed on the notification and read.
[Good day, Mr. Hope.
Congratulations.
Following your final assessnt, we are pleased to inform you that you have passed the final interview. Please report to the Secretarial Departnt tomorrow at 08:00 sharp for onboarding.
Regards,
Liam Rivera
Staff of HR, Maxwell Corp.]
Neville’s eyes scanned the ssage once, then twice, feeling complicated.
[Host, looks like tomorrow is your first day!] Shelly chirped with excitent.
"Looks like it," he replied, his voice flat.
He lifted himself out of the tub.
Anxiety crept in a wave, and he could no longer feel the dull ache in his legs.
He opened his light brain with his wet fingers swiping to pull up his bank account.
The number glowed on the screen: 320 Star Coins.
Barely enough for a decent al, let alone another night in this place.
[Host, is there sothing wrong? Your stress levels are spiking.]
"Damn right, sothing’s wrong," Neville snapped, his voice echoing in the bathroom.
He gestured angrily at the screen. "I have to be there at 08:00 sharp. I can’t afford to check out and then sleep on a park bench the night before I start at a damn gacorp."
[Shall I search for low-cost public shelters?] Shelly offered to be a helpful guide. [Occupancy rates for non-planetary citizen residents are currently at 98%.]
Neville let out a harsh, humorless laugh. "Damn their ’benefits.’"
He spat, grabbing a towel and rubbing it roughly over his hair. "They build cities in the sky but can’t spare a single bed for soone who grew up in their shadow? It’s crazy."
With a sigh that seed to carry all the weight of his years, he scrolled through his contacts. His thumb hovered over the one labeled ’Director’ for a long, painful mont before he finally pressed it.
The 2D hologram flickered to life, showing the familiar, stern face of the orphanage director. Her hair had more gray in it than he rembered, and her eyes looked tired.
Neville’s entire posture changed. His usual arrogant tone vanished, replaced by one of quiet respect. "Director."
[How did it go, Child?] Her expression was unreadable, as always.
"I got in. I passed." A genuine, small smile touched his lips for the first ti since reading the offer.
[Good.] A brief flicker in her eyes was the only sign of her pride. [That’s good news. So, what’s the problem?]
She cut straight to the chase.
She always did.
Neville’s face flushed with sha. "They... they need to report tomorrow morning. And I—" He trailed off, the words catching in his throat.
He hated this.
Hated asking, hated needing.
[I see.] The director’s expression didn’t change, but her voice softened almost imperceptibly.
A notification chid in his light brain.
[*****Star Coins received]
[Don’t be late on your first day,] she said, her tone back to its usual firmness. [And don’t make regret this.]
The tightness in Neville’s chest eased, replaced by a wave of warmth. "I won’t. Thank you, Director."
He hesitated, then added, "I’ll pay it back. First paycheck, I promise."
[See that you do. Your siblings have been asking about you.] And with that, she hung up.
Neville stared at the blank screen, a slow, grateful smile spreading across his face.
The director never wasted words on sentintal monts, but her actions spoke louder than any praise.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
The next morning, Neville found himself standing in the sparkling clean and sleek lobby of the Maxwell Corp.
The entire space seed to be designed to intimidate people, making Neville acutely aware that he was wearing the one and only decent suit he owned.
He followed the instructions from his email, pressing his light brain to the glowing panel.
A beam of light scanned the QR code, and a slot opened with a soft hiss. He dropped his temporary Visitor ID in. A mont later, a new, Temporary Employee ID card slid out, warm to the touch.
With the ID in hand, he turned to face the core of the building.
His heart imdiately dropped.
Elevators.
Or more accurately, the sea of people waiting for them.
There’s a goddamn line in the elevator.
Dozens of sleek, anti-grav lifts lined the far wall. Each one had a queue of employees snaking from its doors.
He arrived at 07:40, thinking he was being punctual and would be on ti. Now, watching the calm, unhurried professionals chatting in line, he realized he’d made a classic rookie mistake.
They had all taken this ti of waiting into account.
"Even in the interstellar era, so things never change," he muttered under his breath. "Elevators are still a nightmare during rush hour."
[Host, the optimal strategy suggests picking the line for elevators servicing floors 200-250. It appears to be moving 8% faster.] Shelly noted anxiously in his mind.
’Thanks, Shelly.’ Neville thought back sarcastically to mask his panic.
Shelly anxiously asked, [Host, where are you going?]
He went in line at the nearest one, his eyes glued to the ti glowing on his light brain: 07:51.
The minutes crawled by. He watched two full elevator loads co and go.
Each ti, the doors would slide open, swallow a dozen people, and ascend into the heavens, leaving him behind.
I’m so done for.
07:56. He was near the front now. Just one more group ahead of him. His heart hamred against his ribs.
He could still make it.
Finally, a set of doors chid open before him. He moved to step inside, a wave of relief washing over him—
—MAXIMUM CAPACITY REACHED. PLEASE WAIT FOR THE NEXT AVAILABLE LIFT—
The synthesized voice was calm and unforgiving. The light above the door glowed a damning red.
A few people behind him sighed in resignation. While Neville stood frozen, half in and half out of the lift.
’Shelly...’ he was out of his mind, his blood running cold.
[Host, I am a system avatar! I cannot materialize myself into the real world. I can’t be detected by the lift if I cannot materialize myself. Therefore, there’s no way I can even gain weight! How about you host—Oh.] Shelly finally closed her mouth after noticing the furious aura of her host.
A perfectly pleasant, apologetic smile stretched across Neville’s lips. "Sorry," he said to the packed elevator, backing away slowly. "Go on ahead."
The doors slid shut, sealing his fate.
He was officially, incredibly late.
Unless...
His eyes darted around the grand lobby, frantically searching past the fountains and art installations. There had to be stairs. In a building this size, there had to be an ergency stairwell.
Suddenly, his eyes saw sothing.
A single, solitary elevator at the far end of the lobby, its polished silver doors gleaming under the morning light.
It was empty.
No line, no waiting, no ’Out of Order’ sign.
This was a miracle.
’Shelly,’ he said, his voice tight in his mind. ’Is that one working?’
[Scanning...] Shelly replied, [Yes, Host. All systems are green. It appears to be on standby.]
’Good’
That was all the confirmation he needed.
Without a second thought, Neville broke from the line.
He ran.
Neville sprinted out towards the elevator.
The hushed chatter of the lobby faded into a dull roar. All that mattered were the silver doors.
His salvation.
[Host, wait! Where are you going?!] Shelly’s voice was frantically calling out to him.
But he ignored it.
He was vaguely aware of people staring, of a collective gasp rippling through the queues he passed.
Let them stare. He was going to be on ti.
[Host, that’s a private elevator! That’s CEO Grayson’s private elevator!]
The information barely registered in his mind.
He was too close now; adrenaline was running through his veins.
The doors were right there—
[—DANGER—]
A crimson warning flashed, covering his sight. A holographic stop sign materialized just inches away from his face.
Instinct took over.
Neville dug his heels in, the leather of his dress shoes screeching in protest against the frictionless floor. For a second, he thought he would lose his balance. His heart was thumping its way out of his ribcage.
He had stopped re inches from a wall of luxurious black fabric. He could sll the faint, refreshing scent of fresh water.
That cleared my head.
Terrified of what he would see, Neville slowly tilted his head up.
He looked directly into the cold, silver eyes of Grayson Maxwell.
Ice cold fresh water.
He thought as his throat bobbed, swallowing his saliva.
The Alpha’s gaze was sharp and unreadable, his powerful fra utterly still. He hadn’t flinched, hadn’t moved an inch when Neville sped towards him earlier.
The lobby had fallen so silent you could hear a pin drop.
Neville realized with a jolt that every single person who had been waiting in line was now staring at them, their expressions a mixture of horror and morbid curiosity.
He opened his mouth to apologize, to explain, to say anything, but he couldn’t get it out of his throat.
It was Bryan, peering from behind Grayson’s broad shoulders, who finally broke the silence. He glanced at the ’Temporary Employee’ on Neville’s ID card with a flicker of amusent in his eyes.
"Newbie?" Bryan’s voice cut through the silence. "Cutting it a little close on your first day, aren’t you?"
The words shattered Neville’s panic-fueled trance.
The sprint.
The private elevator.
The near-collision.
It all ca crashing down on him with the weight of a dying star.
He hadn’t just made a mistake. He had run, full-tilt, to the CEO of the entire corporation.
Of all the first impressions to make, this had to be the absolute worst.
User Comments
0 comments from readers