The slum sprawled like a scar at the edge of Nexus, the illustrious capital city of the kingdom. Despite the towering skyscrapers and dazzling lights visible in the distance, this place felt like an entirely different world—a world forgotten by progress. The air buzzed with the low hum of a thousand tiny drones repairing infrastructure that would inevitably collapse again. Between the drones flew swarms of mosquitoes, the only species in the kingdom thriving equally in both luxury and poverty.
Ned's house—or what could generously be called a house—was a patched-together structure of rusted steel sheets, solar panels, and broken glass. Wires hung loosely, crackling occasionally, adding a dangerous glow to the dim environment. Inside, the floor was uneven and stained, the furniture mismatched and barely holding together. A single fan spun above the bed, its creaking blade doing little to battle the oppressive heat.
Ned lay on the bed, his black hair messy, his lean and athletic physique half-covered by a worn blanket. His face, sharp yet somehow gentle, had always been described as regal—a cruel irony, considering his current circumstances. As he stirred, mosquitoes feasted on his arms, their bites raising angry red welts across his dark skin.
"Damn bugs," he muttered, slapping at them groggily before yawning. He glanced at the cracked holo-display beside him. It glowed faintly, the digits indicating it was still an hour before he needed to leave for school.
"Not even time yet. Nice, at least I'm not a cliché who wakes up late," he thought, stretching. That's when he felt it—the familiar, crushing weight on his torso. He already knew what it was, but out of habit, he looked anyway.
"Angel," he sighed.
His ten-year-old sister, Angel Investor, was sprawled across him, her tiny body clinging to him like a koala. Her dark hair was tangled, her face peaceful, but even in her sleep, there was a mischievous curl to her lips.
"Banished from royalty, but this little devil seems to think she got a new toy," he muttered. Over the past two years, his family had grown closer. Angel, in particular, had embraced their fall from grace with a disturbing amount of enthusiasm. Ned, on the other hand, still struggled with the transition.
Gently, he lifted her off his chest and tucked her under their torn blanket. "Sleep well, you little gremlin," he whispered, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
Ned stepped outside, greeted by the humid air and the cacophony of the slum. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting an orange glow over the skyline. Despite the harshness of his environment, this was the moment of the day he cherished most.
He dropped to the ground and began his routine: push-ups, sit-ups, planks, and shadowboxing. Every movement was precise and deliberate, a testament to the training he'd received in the palace. Back then, the kingdom had high hopes for him, believing his prowess in combat and strategy was proof of his royal lineage. He smirked bitterly at the thought.
"Guess they didn't realize they were grooming a palace guard's son," he muttered between reps.
By the time he was done, sweat glistened on his skin. He washed up quickly using water collected from a communal purifier and went inside.
Anna Investor, his mother, was already up, her delicate hands busy preparing breakfast. She was a beautiful woman, her features weathered yet graceful. Her love for her children was evident in every gesture, from the way she hummed softly to the careful way she plated their modest meal.
"Morning, Mom," Ned said, sitting at the table.
"Good morning, Ned," she replied, her voice warm but tinged with concern. "You've been pushing yourself too hard. Eat properly today."
Ned nodded, grateful for her presence. She had been his rock through everything, making him feel loved in a world that had all but abandoned him.
His eyes flicked to his father, Venture Investor, passed out in the corner, an empty bottle in his hand. Despite his flaws, Ned couldn't bring himself to hate the man. When sober, Venture was kind and protective, though his inability to express emotions often made him seem distant.
"You're like a tsundere dad," Ned thought, smirking to himself as he scarfed down breakfast.
Ned grabbed his hoverboard—a beaten-up relic he'd repaired himself—and stepped onto the crowded street. The city of Nexus loomed in the distance, its spires glinting like jewels in the morning light. Between the slum and the capital was a stark contrast, one that Ned had grown painfully accustomed to.
As he surfed along the crumbling pathways, he couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of the capital. Streams of skycars wove between the skyscrapers, while holographic billboards projected advertisements for the latest advancements in talent-enhancing gear. The streets below bustled with activity, a blend of nobles flaunting their wealth and commoners scrambling to survive.
"Someday," Ned thought, "I'll make it back there. On my own terms."
Ned reached the school gates and parked his hoverboard. The campus was an eclectic mix of ancient architecture and futuristic technology, a reflection of the kingdom's efforts to balance tradition and progress.
He slid into his seat at the back of the classroom, pulling out his battered Kindle to read. The room filled with the chatter of students, most of whom ignored him. Once a prince, now a nobody—his fall from grace ensured he didn't fit in anywhere.
Lost in his novel, Ned didn't notice the figure approaching until a sharp slap landed on the back of his head.
"Reena," he groaned, rubbing the spot. "I've told you a hundred times, stop hitting me when I'm reading important stuff!"
"Important stuff, my foot," Reena Dennis shot back, her crimson eyes sparkling with mischief. "Don't think I don't know what you're actually reading, you pervert."
Ned turned red, quickly closing the Kindle. "I-it's research!" he stammered.
Reena snatched his notebook and waved it in his face. "Whatever helps you sleep at night. Now, did you finish yesterday's homework? Hand it over."
Grumbling, Ned handed her the notebook. She smiled sweetly—too sweetly—and ruffled his hair. "Good boy."
Ned slumped in his seat, blushing furiously. "Why is this my life?" he muttered, sneaking a glance at Reena.
She was undeniably beautiful, with long black hair and a face that exuded innocence. But Ned knew better. As his childhood friend, she reserved her most mischievous side exclusively for him.
Reena was the daughter of Duke Dennis, one of the kingdom's greatest warriors. Renowned for his mastery of the bow and water magic, his legendary skill, Stream Sniping, had earned him fame across the land. But like all nobles, the Duke had turned cold toward Ned after his banishment.
"Guess I'm just invisible to them now," Ned thought bitterly.
Reena, however, had stuck by him. Whether out of loyalty or sheer enjoyment of tormenting him, he wasn't sure.
As the teacher entered the classroom, Ned sighed and tried to focus. His mind wandered, though, to the watch on his arm—a mysterious device that seemed to be his only chance at changing his fate.