Aren straightened his tie for the third time, his fingers fidgeting nervously with the fabric. Seated across from him was Mr. De Vries, the stern-faced manager of the tech firm he'd been striving to join. Sunlight filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the Brussels skyscraper, casting elongated shadows across the minimalist office, amplifying the tension between them.
"So, Mr. Aren," Mr. De Vries began, glancing briefly at the résumé in his hands, "You graduated last year with a bachelor's degree in computer science. Tell me, what have you been doing since then?"
Aren swallowed hard, feeling his throat tighten. "I've been working on several personal projects while searching for opportunities that align with my career goals," he said, attempting to project confidence despite his growing anxiety.
"Personal projects?" The manager raised an eyebrow, his tone skeptical. "In this competitive market, practical experience is key. Companies want candidates who can contribute from day one."
Aren forced a smile. "Absolutely, sir. I've also been freelancing to build my portfolio and enhance my skills in software development."
Mr. De Vries leaned back in his chair, his gaze cold and evaluative. "Freelancing is admirable, but we're seeking someone with more substantial industry experience. Someone who has proven themselves in high-pressure environments."
Aren felt his stomach drop. The words hung in the air, heavy and unyielding. "I understand, sir. However, I am a quick learner and highly adaptable. I believe I could bring a fresh perspective to your team."
The manager offered a tight-lipped smile. "We appreciate your interest, but at this time, we need someone who requires less training. Best of luck in your job search."
Aren managed a weak "Thank you for your time" as he stood up. He extended his hand, which the manager shook briefly before returning his attention to his computer, a clear dismissal.
As Aren exited the office, his shoulders slumped. The hallway felt endless on the way out, each step echoing his fading hopes. The bustling lobby of the building, filled with bright-eyed professionals and the clatter of heels on polished floors, only made him feel smaller. Stepping outside into the streets of Brussels, he felt the city pulse around him, moving on, indifferent to his personal struggles.
The sky was overcast, mirroring his mood as a light drizzle began to fall. Pulling up the hood of his jacket, he walked toward the train station. His footsteps blended into the rhythm of the city—tourists snapping pictures of historic landmarks, street vendors hawking roasted chestnuts, cyclists weaving expertly through traffic. It all blurred together, a vibrant scene that seemed to mock the emptiness he felt. It was like he was floating through it all, disconnected and fading, a spectator to the lives of others.
When he finally reached the station, he bought his ticket and boarded the train back to his small hometown on the outskirts of the city. He found a window seat and sank into it, watching as raindrops traced random paths down the glass. The train lurched forward, and the urban landscape slowly gave way to rolling hills and dense forests.
He took out his phone, scrolling aimlessly through his social media feeds. It was filled with former classmates celebrating new jobs, engagements, trips abroad. Each smiling picture, each glowing caption, felt like a jab, a reminder of where he thought he should be by now. With a sigh, he put his phone away and rested his head against the window, eyes half-closed, his thoughts drifting. What was the point of all of this effort, if it all led to nothing?
The rhythmic clacking of the train tracks was almost hypnotic, pulling him towards sleep. Just as he was about to drift off, a flash of light in the sky caught his eye. Aren blinked and sat up, squinting through the rain-streaked window. High above, through a break in the clouds, something shimmered—something like a chain, massive and glowing with an eerie, otherworldly light. He wasn't the only one who noticed. A murmur spread through the carriage as more passengers looked up, their faces painted with confusion and awe.
"What is that?" someone whispered.
Aren pressed his face closer to the glass. The chain seemed to stretch endlessly across the horizon, its links glowing like molten metal, pulsating as if alive. He could almost feel the hum of energy vibrating through the air. The sight was both mesmerizing and deeply unsettling. Without warning, the chain began to tremble. Cracks of brilliant light spiderwebbed along its length, and before anyone could react, the chain shattered, exploding into a cascade of shimmering particles that rained down on the earth.
An intense wave of energy surged through Aren. He felt it in his bones—an electric shiver that made every nerve in his body tingle. His heart pounded in his chest, a frantic rhythm that matched the panicked shouts now filling the train. He tried to stand, but the world spun around him. His vision blurred, sounds grew muffled and distant, like he was suddenly underwater.
Aren fell back into his seat, his fingers gripping the armrest as darkness closed in. Just before he lost consciousness, he caught a final glimpse of the countryside beyond the window, bathed in an eerie, glowing light. The quiet fields and trees were transformed, as if caught between reality and a dream—or perhaps, a nightmare.
And then everything went black.