Chapter 1: A World Apart
In the year 2501, on the bustling streets of the modern city of Nexus Prime, Alex found himself on the precipice of yet another job interview failure. His tie felt uncomfortably tight, and the air in the conference room was stifling. The panel of stern-faced interviewers seemed unimpressed with his credentials, and his own confidence waned with each passing minute.
After a particularly grueling series of questions, the head interviewer sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Thank you, Mr. Harris, but I'm afraid you're not what we're looking for," he declared, his tone final.
Alex's heart sank. Another rejection. He'd lost count of how many job applications he'd submitted over the past year, how many interviews had ended like this. His dreams of a successful career felt like distant echoes.
Returning home that evening, Alex's father, Richard, met him with a stern expression. "Alex, we need to talk," he said, ushering his son into the living room.
"What is it, Dad?" Alex asked, his voice heavy with resignation.
Richard's gaze bore into Alex as he leaned forward in his favorite armchair. "How did the interview go, Alex?" he inquired, his tone edged with expectation.
Alex slumped onto the sofa, a sigh escaping his lips. "It was a disaster, Dad," he admitted. "They grilled me like I was on a game show, and I stumbled through half of it. I'm pretty sure I set a new record for awkward silences."
His father's face betrayed his disappointment, but he pressed on. "Alex, it's been a year since you graduated. It's time to face the reality of your situation. I've got two choices for you."
Alex braced himself for his father's ultimatum, his heart heavy with the anticipation of what was to come. "What are they?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Richard leaned forward, his expression grave. "Choice one: You enlist in the Earth Federation army. It'll teach you discipline, responsibility, and give you a chance to make something of yourself. It's a path to honor and respect."
As interstellar time dawned upon humanity, the Earth was no longer the sole home to intelligent beings. A myriad of races fought for control over territories and resources among the vast cosmic expanse. The universe had grown complex and competitive, and the stakes were higher than ever.
Humanity, known as Terrans in the interstellar community, was not exempt from these galactic struggles. Terrans had become interstellar pioneers, seeking to secure their place in the cosmos. The battle for territories raged on, and recruitment centers for soldiers were constantly bustling with hopeful volunteers and desperate conscripts.
"NO!!" Alex's response erupted like an accidental fireworks display at a funeral. He hadn't pondered his choice for a nanosecond; becoming a soldier was about as appealing as dancing the cha-cha with a grizzly bear. He wasn't even a cultivator or modified human, it just like sending him to die if he become soldier right now.
His father's voice, filled with exasperation, interrupted his mental monologue. "Damn it, are you really my son? Back in my day, I was a human tornado on the battlefield. My enemies didn't call me Richard the Terminator for nothing. Heck, even without any fancy powers like mana or bio-modifications, I struck fear into their hearts! and you as my son you afraid to death?"
Alex could only roll his eyes internally as his father launched into another one of his legendary tales. In his father's prime, he'd been a tank operator, and not just any tank—it was the Terminator, the Rolls-Royce of armored land vehicles. Richard was so proud of his mechanical beast that he'd painted his name on the front. When the enemy caught sight of that tank, they'd start shouting, "Here comes Richard The Terminator!" That's where his father's ego-boosting nickname originated, or so he claimed.
"I don't fear death, old man," Alex declared with a prideful grin, puffing his chest out. "It's just that I don't particularly enjoy being hurt. Call me soft, call me delicate, but that's just how I roll."
Richard's expression, initially quizzical, twisted into something more sinister. "You think that's afraid of pain better, you clueless son of mine? It's much worse." He leaned in, a devious glint in his eye.
With lightning speed, Richard raised his hand and gave Alex a 'gentle' smack on his head.
Alex's reaction was nothing short of spectacular. He let out a yell that sounded like a cross between a wounded animal and a kettle about to blow its whistle. His body contorted into a series of gymnastic-worthy flips and flops as he danced a chaotic jig of pain-induced chaos.
"Hahh... I knew you'd shoot down my first option," Richard sighed, his exasperation wafting through the room like a storm cloud. "I've supported you for what feels like an eternity, Alex. You're about to hit the big two-five, and you're still as jobless as a rubber ducky at a fish market. It's like you're allergic to direction."
The impending ultimatum hung in the air like a storm brewing on the horizon. Alex could practically predict the words his father would utter next. Richard's voice rolled on, his frustration unabated, "I've decided to toss you a lifeline. Your late grandfather left us something—an old, forgotten pub in another city. You're going there, and you're going to run it."
Alex blinked in sheer surprise. The pub had always been a distant, mythical entity in their family, something he'd never seen or cared about. "But, Dad..."
"No 'buts,' Alex," Richard said with an unwavering sternness that could rival a stone wall. "It's high time you learned the ABCs of responsibility."
Reluctantly, Alex agreed, and within a mere seven days, he found himself hurtling through the sky on a hypersonic train journey to the mysterious other city. The sensation was akin to strapping into a rocket aimed straight into the heart of the unknown. It was a leap of faith, plunging headfirst into a world where ancient traditions and cobweb-covered relics held an almost mystical sway.
As the train sliced through the air, Alex couldn't help but wonder if he'd been cast into a science fiction novel—a plot twist that had him questioning the very fabric of reality. He watched the landscape transform from the familiar urban sprawl of Nexus Prime into a mesmerizing tapestry of rolling hills and quaint villages. The world beyond the city limits seemed like a living museum of forgotten stories waiting to be unearthed.
Yet, his determination burned as brightly as a supernova. He was determined to prove himself. If it meant becoming the reluctant custodian of a pub that time had all but erased from memory, so be it. After all, riches awaited him at the end of this enigmatic journey, and Alex had a vivid daydream of one day slapping his father with a metaphorical wad of cash so thick that even Richard the Terminator would be left speechless.
Alex arrived at the destination city, a dazzling metropolis known as "NeoHaven." Despite its smaller size compared to Nexus Prime, NeoHaven exuded a futuristic allure that set it apart. Towering skyscrapers pierced the sky, their sleek surfaces reflecting the neon glow of holographic billboards that adorned every street. Levitating vehicles zipped through crystalline pathways, guided by an intricate web of energy lanes.
After disembarking from the hypersonic train, Alex summoned an autonomous taxi to take him to his late grandfather's pub. To his surprise, the taxi veered off the main road and navigated through a labyrinthine network of narrow alleyways, a stark contrast to the city's high-tech exterior.
The pub itself, however, was a stark relic of a bygone era. It stood like a sentinel amidst the gleaming glass and steel of NeoHaven, its iron door creaking with age as Alex pushed it open. Inside, the pub was a time capsule, frozen in the past. Wooden tables and chairs lay shrouded in a thick layer of dust, and the once-polished bar had tarnished with time.
As Alex ventured deeper into the pub, he couldn't help but be captivated by its untouched state. It was as if the hands of time had decided to take a break here, leaving behind a relic from a forgotten era amidst the breakneck progress of NeoHaven. Dust-covered wooden tables and chairs seemed frozen in time, their former patrons having left long ago, their laughter and conversations echoing faintly in the corners of his imagination.
Cobwebs adorned the corners of the room like silken draperies, weaving an intricate tale of neglect. The air was heavy with the scent of history, as if the very molecules bore witness to the stories and secrets of years gone by.
As he surveyed the pub's antiquated charm, Alex couldn't help but ponder the legacy of his grandfather. "Looks like my grandfather was quite the aficionado of the old world," he mused, his thoughts echoing through the silent, dusty space.
As the night fell upon the old pub, casting long shadows across the quiet streets of Neohaven, Alex decided it was time to call it a day. He ventured upstairs to find a place to rest, the creaky wooden staircase groaning softly with each step. The room he chose, although modest, offered a glimpse of the city's twinkling lights through its vintage windowpanes.
The next morning, Alex awoke to the gentle rays of the sun filtering through the curtains. The city beyond had come alive, its futuristic facade bathed in the soft, golden hues of dawn. Eager to begin his journey of reviving his grandfather's pub, he hastily dressed and made his way downstairs.
Alex decided to grab a quick breakfast at a nearby bread store. The bell above the door tinkled as he entered, and the aroma of freshly baked goods enveloped him like a warm embrace. Behind the counter stood a striking woman with an air of elegance, her name tag identifying her as Amaya.
Amaya offered a friendly smile as she approached him. "Good morning, sir. Are you new in Neohaven?" she inquired, her eyes curious yet welcoming. She ask those because she saw him entering that pub last night.
Alex nodded, returning the smile. "Yes, I am. I've just arrived here, and I'm planning to reopen my grandfather's pub business." He gestured in the direction of the pub's location, excitement and determination gleaming in his eyes.
Amaya's gaze shifted toward the distant silhouette of the pub. "That old place? It's been closed for as long as I can remember," she said, a hint of nostalgia in her voice. "Well, if you need any help or advice about Neohaven, feel free to ask. It's not often we have someone looking to breathe new life into these old establishments."
Their conversation had ignited a spark of camaraderie, and little did Alex know that Amaya's insights and connections in Neohaven would prove invaluable in his quest to restore the forgotten gem of a pub. As they shared their stories, it was clear that Neohaven had an abundance of surprises, both old and new.
Alex ordered a freshly baked croissant and sipped on a cup of aromatic coffee as he continued to chat with Amaya. The warm pastry melted in his mouth, a delightful contrast to the cool, futuristic world outside. With genuine admiration, he complimented Amaya on the quality of her bread.
Amaya's face lit up with a genuine smile. "Thank you, I take great pride in my baking," she replied, a glint of pride in her eyes. "If you ever need pastries or bread for your pub, don't hesitate to let me know. I'd be happy to supply you."
Alex nodded enthusiastically, appreciating the warm welcome he had received. "I definitely will," he said.
With a contented stomach and a newfound friend in Amaya, Alex headed to the nearest supermarket to purchase cleaning supplies. Armed with an arsenal of brooms, mops, and detergents, he returned to his grandfather's pub with renewed determination.
With determination in his heart, Alex rolled up his sleeves and began the arduous task of breathing new life into the dusty, cobweb-covered establishment.
For hours on end, Alex dedicated himself to the daunting task of restoring his grandfather's pub. Armed with cleaning supplies, he meticulously scrubbed and polished every inch of the pub's floors, from the musty basement to the dusty second floor. The echoes of his efforts reverberated through the old building, as if awakening it from a long slumber.
By the time he had completed the lower floors, the pub began to regain a glimmer of its former charm. The wooden surfaces, once obscured by layers of grime, now gleamed with newfound vitality. Dust motes danced in the sunlight that streamed through the windows, creating an enchanting play of light and shadow.
As he surveyed the transformed lower levels, Alex couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment. It was a tangible sign that his efforts were paying off, and the pub was beginning to shed its cloak of neglect.
However, one area remained untouched—the attic. With the lower floors now cleaned and restored, the attic felt like an uncharted territory, an unknown realm that piqued Alex's curiosity. With a deep breath and a sense of anticipation, he climbed the creaky stairs that led to the attic door.
The door itself felt heavy, as if guarding the undiscovered possibilities that lay beyond. As he pushed it open, a gust of musty air greeted him, carrying the scent of old wood and forgotten memories
Alex looked around the attic, taking in the dimly lit space. Strangely, there didn't seem to be much in the attic besides a towering, old wardrobe that stood as a solitary sentinel of the past. The wooden wardrobe exuded an air of mystery, its ornate carvings and timeworn appearance hinting at untold tales.
Intrigued, Alex approached the wardrobe and gingerly opened its creaking doors. To his surprise, it revealed a collection of fur coats and leather jackets neatly arranged inside. The wardrobe's contents seemed ordinary enough, but for a fleeting moment, a whimsical thought crossed Alex's mind.
He recalled an old story from the old world—one of his favorite literary classics, "Narnia." In that tale, four adventurous children had entered a similar wardrobe and embarked on a fantastical journey to another world. The mere association with that story brought a wistful smile to Alex's face.
"Should I try it?" he pondered aloud, half-amused by his own childish imagination.
A chuckle escaped his lips as he dismissed the whimsical notion. "Hahaha... I must be losing it," he said to himself.
Despite his better judgment, Alex found himself standing in front of the wardrobe, contemplating the comically improbable idea of using it as a resting place.
He scratched his head, mumbling to himself, "I mean, I've put in a hard day's work, right? Maybe it's just a cozy little nook, and I could use a nap. Who wouldn't want a wardrobe nap? I definitely don't believe in all that fantasy story nonsense... No, sir, I'm just here for a bit of R&R."
Without thinking much further, he threw caution to the wind and leaped headfirst into the wardrobe, closing the doors behind him with a playful flourish.
However, as the wardrobe doors clicked shut, Alex's anticipation quickly turned to alarm. He expected to feel the comforting solidity of a wall at his back, but instead, he found himself in a freefall. His stomach lurched, and he couldn't help but let out a startled yelp.
"Damn it, this is really happening!" he exclaimed, his voice echoing as he tumbled through an otherworldly void, his earlier comical bravado giving way to a sense of exhilarating and bewildering uncertainty.
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