The rare swim in the waves cooled Michael's Monday jitters before work. Salty water dripped down his legs as he breathed in deeply, his sinuses clearer than usual. The brisk ocean air felt invigorating, and even his usual morning grogginess seemed to fade.
Wrapping a towel around himself, Michael dried off his chubby frame—a body shaped by long hours of binge-watching, too many takeout meals, and one-too-many late-night beers. His parents always teased him about his "dad bod," but as he changed into the formal uniform required for his job, something caught his eye.
He glanced at his reflection in the mirror. His stomach, his shoulders—something looked... different. Leaner, maybe? He shook his head, dismissing the thought. Just the morning swim working its magic, he thought with a small smile.
This passage does a decent job of grounding Michael in a relatable reality, but the phrasing can be streamlined to improve flow and avoid redundancy. Here is a polished version:
Michael's parents had retired to the countryside after successful careers—his dad, once a CEO, now tinkered on the farm, while his mum embraced the quiet life. He visited them every month, enduring their nagging about promotions or girlfriends with a polite smile. They meant well, but it was not like he was not trying.
The drive to work was mostly uneventful, aside from the occasional ping of notifications from coworkers interrupting his classic guitar playlist on Bluetooth. Most of the messages were the same—questions, requests for help, or complaints he was not in the mood to deal with.
Michael mouth twitched forming a frown, he felt different today and not in the bad way more like his body was a bit more loose and less sore, the grogginess of last night's activities is gone…Weird. Before the ping of the GPS notified that he had arrived outside the customer's house. It was a quaint place, it was in a more suburban area, but it didn't fit that stereotype of laid back out back look, it did have some high technology cameras zooming back and forth, as well as tall black fences with bushes surrounding it, the houses itself was beautifully made, it was a nice white tall wooden house with a second story and a pool out back. Knocking on the door, he waits as even the wooden door was niche and expensive with dense wood and electric hinges moving the door automatically as the customer came into view.
The customer was a tall young man, barely making the legal cut of being over 18, clearly a second-generation spoiled brat, calling Michael over with a single outstretched finger like he's not worth his time, before quickly explaining what was wrong, and vacating the area like he didn't want the stink of someone poorer then him on him, which was fine with Michael as he preferred the quiet.
As soon as the boy left, Michael got a proper look at the problem. No matter how much the kid claimed to know about his own house, Michael was not about to take his word over an expert's—especially when that expert was him.
The day was hotter than normal a good thirty-eight Celsius, causing Michael to talk to the boy a couple times about getting water, no matter how annoying that kids smug smile was, he needed to drink. But as the day got hotter and hotter Michael made fewer and fewer breaks for water and worked much harder than normal completing a 6-hour job normally on a cool day in 4 hours, 'God, I need those morning swims more often, I feel amazing after them' Michael noted quietly to himself.
Despite the warm relief this sweltering day was providing, Michael could not wait for the boy to sign off on today, as he watched the boy move at possibly slower than a snail's pace as he signed over the agreement that he was ok with all work done today.
"Thank you, hope you have a great day to you sir" as Michael tried to leave as quickly as possible, his body shuffling towards the door, only to receive as smug smile in return and a "Well, finally. I thought professionals were supposed to be quicker." Michael could not believe the balls on the boy, "You are saying I am lazy? Come here… you…little," Michael swallowed any other words he was going to say as dark black writing filled his eyes.
Michael stumbled back; his heart pounding as dark black writing burned itself into his vision. He blinked rapidly, rubbing his eyes, but the glowing text remained, as if etched into the air—or his mind.
"What... what is this?" he whispered, his voice trembling.
Beside him, the spoiled customer yelped in surprise, his unfocused eyes darting wildly. He was clearly seeing something too, but his gaze did not align with Michael's.
'It's not just me,' Michael thought, his pulse quickening. He refocused on the text, which seemed to writhe and shift as it finally became readable:
S#ST#M #NITI#ALIS#TI-ION *E#ROR
SYST#M INT##LIZATION *INSUFFICENT SPIRITUAL ENERGY
*ERROR* FILLLING WORLD KNOWN AS EARTH-27 WITH SPIRITUAL ENERGY
INSUFFICENT WORLD MASS
USING SURROUNDING PLANETS TO FACILITATE GROWTH
SENTIENT-SPECIES KNOWN AS HOMO-SAMPIENS FOUND**
TURURIAL WILL NOW BEGIN
"SURVIVE. NO MATTER THE COST"