They were World Essence-propelled devices, functioning much like elevators. By harnessing and manipulating gravity through negagrav fields, allowing effortless vertical travel through buildings.
That crude definition was what I'scarus had ascertained as the data surfaced in his head.
So, when he descended, he wasn't particularly startled. He understood—at least in theory—how the machine worked.
The opposing forces of gravity gradually diminished until his foot touched solid ground.
Drawing himself out of the barrier, Kelvin stepped into the building's vast open lobby.
The pull and repulse of gravity during the descent left his proprioception slightly off, his balance adjusting in real time.
His emotions, however, were another matter entirely—still reeling from the overwhelming surge of dopamine.
'Wow… That was exhilarating.'
Kelvin had to admit, it was an addicting sensation. His curiosity itched at the thought of ascending. I wonder what going up feels like—
He shook the thought away. 'Focus, Kev. Incumbent issues first.'
His gaze swept the hall, seeking an exit. A large holographic projection flashed the word EXIT, guiding him forward.
Eyes down, he weaved through the crowd of people and activity. Kelvin kept his mind steady on one objective—finding somewhere safe, somewhere quiet, to piece together his fractured memories.
The moment he stepped out of the revolving door onto the streets of KQFM-21, the city's sheer energy hit him like a storm.
The sharp chill in the air bit into his lungs, forcing a wheeze from his breath. But it was the sight before him that truly stole his focus.
The streets pulsed with movement. Autonomous vehicles glided past, their sleek designs catching the purple glow of the twin moons above. Overhead, the sky was a chaotic dance of air traffic—so dense and intricate that only electronic minds could control the ebb and flow. Drones zipped through the sky, delivering packages, monitoring the city's pulse, keeping an ever-watchful eye.
The sidewalks, too, thrived with life. Humans and robots walked side by side, engrossed in their own digital worlds, augmented reality interfaces flickering like restless fireflies. Towering billboards projected advertisements that seamlessly blended into the cityscape, wrapping the skyline in an endless reel of vivid displays.
Kelvin took it all in, awestruck.
The city coincide with what one would envisage New York or Tokyo would look like fifty years during the Joy Era.
'This… is magnificent.'
This wasn't the modest, practical vision I'scarus had in concept. It was so much more—an urban jungle of esoteric wonders.
As he continued through the streets, his eyes caught onto something else—the fashion. It was distinct, far removed from Earth's typical attire. A fusion of Western nobility and Eastern elegance, creating a refined aesthetic unique to the city's upper class.
Only those in the main city seemed to wear it; the style didn't extend to the outskirts.
The awe faded as he pulled himself back to his purpose. He couldn't waste time wandering. He needed to make sense of his fractured mind.
Using what memories he could grasp, he began heading north. Home…?
****
The deeper he ventured, the more the city changed.
The clean, futuristic beauty of KQFM-21 gradually deteriorated into something else—something worn, something abandoned.
The stark contrast unsettled him.
The streets bore the scars of neglect—cracked roads, rusted infrastructure, and peeling paint. The weary faces of its inhabitants passed by him, eyes heavy with exhaustion. Men and boys of varying ages trudged through, their attire similar to his own, their expressions powdered with the toils of labor—or the weight of gang extortions.
Factories, once operational, now stood as hollow relics of industry, their skeletal structures barely holding against the elements.
A thick, contemptible smog—an upshot of industrial recklessness—tainted the air, the acrid stench lingering even as storm winds tried to sweep it away.
Kelvin tugged his collar higher, his breath misting in the frigid air.
Then, he felt it.
A shift in the wind.
The already chilly temperature dropped fast, and the first flakes of snow descended from the sky.
Shit… A blizzard? His tongue clicked—a habit unknowingly carried over from I'scarus.
He glanced upward, watching the storm gather momentum. Dark clouds swirled against the plum-colored sky, flickering with streaks of blue-black lightning.
'No way I'm making it home before this turns ugly.'
His gaze darted around. He needed shelter—something sturdy enough to withstand the incoming storm. But in this part of the district, 'sturdy' wasn't exactly common.
His mind whirred, rummaging at I'scarus' memories. Then—
There!
Two blocks to the left. An abandoned facility. It wasn't much, but it was better than braving the storm.
He moved fast, pushing through the growing winds and scurrying district inhabitants.
Snow pelted his face, melting against his skin before the cold seeped in again. His thick garments dulled the worst of it, but he knew he wouldn't last long.
By the time he reached the plant, the gust had escalated into a full-force assault. Snow whirled violently, shrouding the world in white. His ears stung from the cold, though strangely—his body resisted the worst of it. Another anomaly he took note of.
Kelvin stepped inside, shaking off the frost. His boots squelched against the remote floor of the facility, his breath a visible mist in the dim interior.
The air was frigid, carrying a faint stench of burnt wool.
That alone was strange. A place like this should have been packed with workers or at the very least, homeless looking for refuge. Kelvin thought.
And yet—it was empty.
His eyes swept the ground floor.
Bare windows. Rusted metal drums. A staircase that looked like it would collapse under pressure. But something else caught his eye—
At the far end of the building, a faded, multi-colored symbol sprawled across the wall.
Kelvin's expression soured. He knew that mark.
A local gang.
A low-tier syndicate that thrived off petty extortions—prying on the young, bullying the elderly, and harassing the working class for whatever loose change they could squeeze out. I'scarus had dealt with them more than once.
Kelvin's fingers twitched. 'Great. This is problematic.'
His gaze flicked back to the stairs.
No one home?
Unlikely. If anything, they were upstairs, seeking shelter from the cold and avoiding the putrid stench down here.
For a moment, he considered turning back. Searching for another asylum.
But then—
A sharp patter rang against the rooftop.
Hail.
The storm had fully arrived. Going back out wasn't an option anymore.
Kelvin sighed, rubbing his temple. 'Might as well stay. No way this body lasts long out there.'
Moving deeper inside, he found a makeshift hiding spot—wedged between a stack of metal drums with a clear view of the entrance and the stairs.
The stench was suffocating but he had smelt worst, and it was better than being exposed to the planet meteoritic shower.
He settled in, keeping his senses sharp. But exhaustion pressed in on him, slow and insidious.
If he were in his old body, he could have fought it off. Here? Not so much.
His muscles slackened. Thoughts dulled.
And before he could resist—
—darkness took him.
Outside, the storm howled on.