Flora awoke to chaos. The blaring sirens melded with the low hum of choppers—no, birds as they were called now—slicing through the air like knives. The sound vibrated through the walls of her apartment, a cacophony of urgency that dragged her from restless slumber.
Her vision was a haze. Objects floated around her, suspended in an unnatural dance: her favorite vase, still holding the crimson roses she adored, hung midair, spinning slowly. The bookshelf, the lamp, even her coat—all defied gravity. And then there was her—drifting a few inches above her bed, her limbs weightless as if the rules of the universe had loosened their grip.
Her surroundings felt surreal, caught between reality and a waking dream. Everything was there but not there, solid yet translucent. The air buzzed faintly, like the hum of a machine on the brink of overload. Her heart pounded as she tried to focus, but the trance held her firm, an invisible force wrapping itself around her like a shroud.
And then, with a jolt, she snapped back.
The sirens screamed louder, and the vase shattered as it hit the floor. Glass fragments scattered across the tiles, a stark reminder that whatever had just happened wasn't imagined. Flora gasped for breath, her body heavy now, as if the sudden return to gravity had doubled her weight.
She stumbled out of bed, feet searching for stability, and crossed the room to her window. The interface shimmered as her hand brushed against it, the glass dissolving into transparency. Neo City sprawled before her, a labyrinth of towering structures that glimmered with the light of countless screens and neon strips. Even in turmoil, the city held its beauty, though now it felt cold, alien.
The birds roared past, their sleek metallic forms darting like angry wasps through the maze of skyscrapers. Engines hummed with fury, leaving trails of blue light in their wake. But it wasn't the birds that unsettled Flora. It was the way the horizon trembled, as if the city itself had begun to quake under its own weight.
A low rumble beneath her feet confirmed it. Something was wrong. Very wrong.
Flora turned sharply, her movements frantic as she stumbled toward her closet. The doors slid open with a hiss, revealing rows of neatly arranged clothing. She grabbed the first outfit her hands touched, pulling it on as the closet lights dimmed and then extinguished completely—a small but ominous sign.
As she dressed, her mind raced. What had just happened to her? Why had she been floating? Why had the objects in her apartment defied the laws of nature? And what was happening outside?
The rumbling grew stronger, and the sound of distant explosions reverberated through the air. A flicker of fear sparked in Flora's chest, but she pushed it down. Whatever was happening, she couldn't afford to freeze. Not now.
Fully dressed, she stepped back toward the window, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the chaotic cityscape. Neo City had always been a marvel, a beacon of progress built upon the ruins of a world left behind. It was a city of hope, of possibilities. But now, as the trembling earth threatened to tear it apart, Flora couldn't shake the feeling that the city's foundations—both literal and metaphorical—were cracking.
Her thoughts snapped back to the moment she woke up. That trance. That strange feeling of being between worlds. Something had shifted. Something unnatural.
The rumbling grew louder, shaking Flora's apartment violently. She stumbled, gripping the edge of the counter for balance as objects tumbled from their places. Her breaths came quick and shallow as she glanced toward the window, the vast expanse of Neo City stretching below her—a city that floated on dreams but now trembled on the edge of collapse.
Her apartment building was one of the tallest in Neo City, a marvel of engineering that pierced through the ozone layer and reached into the stratosphere. Constructed as a solution to overpopulation, these skyscrapers were coated with a specialized material to block harmful UV rays and shield inhabitants from radiation. Yet, despite this innovation, radiation poisoning remained a grim reality for many residents, manifesting in headaches, chronic pain, and other mysterious symptoms.
Flora knew she needed to escape. The tremors were only growing stronger. She dashed toward her orbital—the private elevator assigned to her apartment for quick descents to the city's surface. The orbitals were among the most advanced technology in Neo City, designed to transport residents from the stratospheric heights to ground level within moments. But when Flora reached hers, the interface flickered with erratic glitches.
"Come on, come on!" she muttered, slamming her palm against the control panel. Nothing. The system was down.
Panic set in as she turned toward the hallway. The corridor was in chaos—tenants from neighboring apartments pushed and shoved their way toward the public orbital. Their faces were masks of fear, voices raised in desperate cries and frantic commands. The public orbital was meant to accommodate larger groups, but the sheer number of people overwhelmed its capacity. The door jammed partway, locking out the throng of panicked residents.
Flora's mind raced. The orbital was useless, and the tremors were intensifying. She needed another way out. Then it hit her: the rail system.
The rails were emergency infrastructure used by construction workers to service faulty orbitals. Long, sturdy poles snaked along the building's exterior, stretching from the uppermost apartments to the surface below. To use the rails, one needed gear—a set of magnetic gloves, boots, and body straps designed to grip the pole and release it with neural commands.
She tore through her closet, frantically searching for gear. Jackets, shoes, and miscellaneous gadgets were thrown aside in a chaotic pile, but no gear surfaced. Her heart sank. She didn't own one. But then she remembered—Jenkins.
Jenkins was a former construction worker who lived a few floors below. Flora sprinted out of her apartment and down the trembling hallway, weaving through the panicked crowd. When she reached Jenkins's door, she raised her fist to knock, but before she could, the door hissed open. Jenkins stood there, fully equipped with his gear.
The man was built like a bear, his broad shoulders filling the doorway. His face was etched with years of hard labor, a thick beard framing his scowling expression. His gear glinted in the dim hallway light, the gloves and boots humming faintly with energy.
"Get out of my way," Jenkins growled, his deep, husky voice cutting through the noise. He stepped past Flora without a second glance, his heavy boots clanking against the floor.
"Wait!" Flora called, chasing after him. "Jenkins, I need your help!"
The man turned briefly, his expression hard. "Help yourself, kid. I'm getting out of here."
Flora grabbed his arm, desperation in her voice. "Please! My orbital is down, and I don't have gear. If you don't help me, I'll be stuck here!"
For a moment, Jenkins seemed ready to shrug her off, but something in her tone gave him pause. He sighed, the weight of the situation settling on him. "Fine," he muttered gruffly. "But don't slow me down."
Relief flooded through Flora, though it was tempered by the realization that this was only the beginning of their escape.