*** Important information *** ( After this, all notes will be in the author's thoughts)
This novel explores deep, intricate concepts and may require some patience as it slowly unravels. There are subtle nuances and events that may not be immediately apparent, so I kindly request that you give this story a chance.
_Co
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"I've got you, Miles," Miro's voice was filled with warmth and love as he looked at Miles, who was like a Father to him. But in an instant, the safety of their moment shattered. The steady hum of the helicopter turned into a chaotic screech, blurring everything outside the window into a whirlwind of colors.
"Miles! Sarah!" Miro's screams were drowned out by the overwhelming chaos. And then, just as suddenly as it started, everything stopped. The silence was deafening compared to the cacophony before. Miro was standing on a familiar sidewalk, but the helicopter was gone. Instead, a hot dog stand stood before him, its bright colors and aroma of grilled onions filling his senses.
"What just happened?" Miro wondered, feeling disoriented and confused. Was he back in Jersey? Or was this all just a dream? The conflicting thoughts raced through his mind as he tried to make sense of what had just occurred.
"Outta my way, pal!" yelled a nearby street vendor, thrusting a steaming hot dog into the face of an unsuspecting passerby. The urgency in his voice jolted Miro out of his thoughts for a moment, but soon, the peculiar sensation returned.
An ominous rumble echoed through the streets, growing louder with each passing second. People around him began to scatter like frightened mice. He scanned the area, searching for the disturbance.
"Truck! Get out of the way!" someone screamed, and before Miro could process the warning, a massive truck careened around the corner, barreling towards him at breakneck speed. Time seemed to slow as his mind raced, calculating possible escape routes, but it was futile – there simply wasn't enough time.
"Damn it," he muttered under his breath, bracing himself for impact.
The truck slammed into Miro with bone-crushing force, and as his body collided with the metal behemoth, or so he thought. A blinding flash of colorful lights enveloped him, tinged with the scent of ozone and burning rubber. His existence fractured, and reality itself seemed to splinter and reform around him.
"Wh-what's happening to me?" he gasped, his voice barely a whisper amid the chaos.
[ System error ]
" He's waking up! Sedate him quick! " A voice screamed.
Am I hearing voices? What is going on… in the middle of his sentence, a striking pain assaults his brain.
" Heart monitor is stabilizing! "
[ Restoring dream state ]
Miro sat up, grabbing his head, wincing, and surveyed the scene. The truck lay on its side a few yards away, smoke billowing from its crumpled hood. People were screaming, running, and trying to help those who had been caught in the wreckage. Amidst the chaos,
"I... I don't understand," Miro whispered, his voice shaking. "What's happening?"
Miro spotted an old woman pinned beneath the twisted metal of the truck's cab. He struggled to his feet, his body protesting with every movement. As he stumbled towards the woman, he realized that something was...off.
He knelt beside her, his hands shaking as he reached out to touch her. Her skin was warm, almost feverish, and her breath came in ragged gasps. "Hang in there," he muttered, his voice thick with emotion. "Help's on the way."
As he waited for the paramedics to arrive, he found himself reliving the events that had led up to this moment.
" Is any of this real?! " Miro yelled in frustration.
------ A few days prior -----
[ System Start ]
[ Trial Start ]
The morning sun bathed the library in a warm glow, filtering through the windows to illuminate rows of dusty books. The aged wooden floors, creaking with history, added a charming ambiance to the place. At a desk sat an unassuming librarian named Miro.
In the background, the iconic James Bond theme music from the movie played. "My name is Bond, James Bond."
Dona don da dona don da dona don dona don....
A subtle smile graced his face. His chiseled jaw, deep sapphire eyes, and well-combed black hair gave him an air of quiet confidence. Clad in a short-sleeved t-shirt that accentuated the muscles beneath his caramel skin, he occupied a cozy library in Brookfield, New Jersey.
On his desk, an old pager and a flip phone lay dormant.
[Beep Beep Beep]
Pausing the movie, he picked up the pager, revealing a message: [Code Red].
Sighing, he surveyed the quaint library, strutting to the door. Flipping the sign to "lunch," he locked the door and drew the blinds. Humming the James Bond theme, he returned to his desk, settling into his rolling chair. A small bust of Abraham Lincoln gazed at him. Smirking, he flicked Abe's head, revealing a hidden fingerprint scanner. Placing his index finger on it, a light scanned his fingerprint.
A clicking noise accompanied his spin in the chair as two doors opened on the ground.
[Weight confirmed]
[Need to drop a few donuts, M], a snarky voice replied.
Rolling his eyes, he retorted, "Just invite me over if you want it that bad, Lisa."
A red dot appeared on the floor and ascended.
[Commencing body scan]
[Scan complete, "Welcome Agent M"]
Sighing, he muttered, "Do I really have to do this every single time?"
Descending through the floor, the routine of secret entrances and high-tech security seemed to be an integral part of his double life as Agent M. Walking down the steps through the floor, he reached a small shuttle station hidden beneath the library.