The evening sun began its descent, casting a fiery orange glow through the drifting clouds.
Exiting the grand-looking Coal Elementals Organization was none other than Nolan, with his one-armed bag slung over his shoulder.
Now, he was better dressed, donning a clean blue shirt with just a couple of patches and baggy white jeans he had inherited from his father.
Fortunately, the organization had fairly good cleaning facilities that ensured its workers were as clean as they could be before leaving.
All of it was none other than a ploy to hide the real dirtiness of what lay within the organization.
"Hey, Null!" A voice called out from afar as Nolan stopped and turned back, sighting a bearded man dressed in a security uniform waving at him.
"Here..." he said, and in the next instant, a key was sent soaring toward him, landing in Nolan's palms.
"Help me out tomorrow, will ya?" the man said as Nolan nodded before pocketing the key and continuing on his way.
Since he was always the first person to arrive at the organization, the security guard gave him the key to the gate so he could open it earlier.
It saved the guard a couple of hours to spend with his family, so Nolan had simply shrugged and accepted the duty, as it didn't affect him.
For the past five years, he had also taken on the job of the morning gate opener.
His mind tried drifting to the exchange that happened between him and Mr. Murdermoon, his boss, but Nolan pushed the thoughts down.
"Forty-five years, forty years? Like it even matters..." he muttered, clicking his tongue.
The average working years of the most desperate coal miner in the organization was just three years.
No coal miner ever lived to the age of 70!
The work was grueling, and the chemical effects of the job were life-sucking.
He was 25 years old and had 40 more years to work before he could retire.
That meant he would be working until he was 65, and he suffered the effects of coal mining three times more than the best coal miner.
It would be a miracle if he survived until the age of 40!
So what's the mention of 75 years?
Nolan already knew he would forever be a corporate slave until his death.
He had accepted that fate years ago, which was why it made no sense to him whether he lost or gained five more years.
He had simply signed the contract.
If he didn't, he would have antagonized the higher-ups, and who knew how they would make his already difficult life even harder?
The thoughts of running away had crossed his mind often, but he knew it was a futile endeavor. They would eventually find him and make him work even harder.
As for the thought of simply ending his life since his fate was bleak anyway, he wasn't bold enough to put his neck in the noose, no matter how hard he tried.
And so, he had been stuck in this loop, probably eternally.
CRACKLE.
The loud sound of thunder crackling resounded, followed by the heavens pouring down their tears.
Everyone quickly brought out their umbrellas, and some got into cabs to protect themselves from the rain.
But Nolan simply shrugged it off and continued his walk, ignoring the pitiful stares from others.
Soon, he was thoroughly drenched in rain, which poured even harder, but he continued on his way.
After about an hour and thirty minutes of walking, night had fallen, and there was no moon in the sky, making things slightly darker.
Finally, a bit of a smile showed up on Nolan's face as he crossed the street and walked toward an alleyway where a figure sat.
An old man, sitting on an animal skin, with a bowl in front of him.
One glance revealed he was a beggar, and the small extended ceiling of the house he sat under protected him from the rain.
From three meters away, the man turned his eyes straight toward Nolan, a small smile like Nolan's appearing on his face.
Finally, Nolan stood before him, dipping his hand into his pocket and bringing out the notes.
It was his daily pay, his 10% wage. He bent to the empty plate and placed the money inside it, just like he always did, before rising up.
But something unusual happened as his hand was suddenly caught by the old beggar, and he couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at that.
It hadn't happened in close to seven years now.
It had always been a simple thank you exchange before Nolan continued on his path.
"I...I...want...to give you...a...gift..." the old man struggled to say. It seemed he had a speech disorder.
"Oh," Nolan mused as he watched the old man release his hand before dipping it into his pocket and pulling out a folded letter.
With shaking hands and a bowed head, he handed Nolan the letter, and without much thought, Nolan took it and stood up, continuing on his path.
Ten minutes passed, and Nolan's mind settled as he felt closer to home.
While the company seized everything from his father, they surprisingly left him his home and even filled it with food for him.
It was surprising to him why the company did that, but there was also chance of them simply being scared he might die of malnourishment, which would impede his work.
That was most likely the reason why they had done so for him.
It was also the reason why Nolan had never needed the wages given to him, choosing to always pass it to the old beggar instead.
That finally reminded him of the gift he received from the old beggar.
Dipping his hand into his pocket, Nolan brought the letter out, quickly unfolding it.
Suddenly, he felt the hair rise at the back of his head as he turned his gaze to the far side.
It was pitch black, but he could swear he heard the sound of screeching tires on the asphalt ground. As he narrowed his eyes, his face massively changed.
Quickly turning back and trying to move away, he was simply too slow. A bright light flashed in his eyes at the last second, and then...
BANG!
A force hit Nolan with so much power, he was rapidly sent flying to the side amidst the sound of truck glass shattering and then...
RIP!
Something hot tore through Nolan's chest, as iron found its way toward his throat followed by...
BLEURG!
Blood poured out of his lips as he looked down at himself in horror.
Right now, sticking out from his chest was a sharp spike that impaled him through, tearing exactly through his heart.
The blood wouldn't stop flowing out of his lips and he wound in his chest.
Just to the side, he could see the one who caused it.
A truck had crashed into a house, on its side, with flames quickly appearing over it, brightening up the area.
"Guess everything finally ends here. Should I even be happy or sad..."
Nolan whispered amidst the blood raining down, and in the last second of his life, he turned his attention to his right hand, where he could still feel the tight grasp of the letter.
With the light from the burning truck, he read its content as life slowly slipped off his body.
Quickly, the expression of mockery on his face disappeared, followed by a dazed look, and then he smiled brightly—the brightest smile he had ever had since he was born.
The letter slowly drifted from his hands as his head slowly dropped.
"I guess it was all worth it in the end..." he mused silently to himself, his eyes relaying the content of what had been written in the letter...