Anderson awoke in his living room. Barely batting an eye at the fact that his bed had grown legs, he extended his arm to grab what looked like nicotine patches with broken hearts on them. He slapped one on the bedframe and, with difficulty, it returned to its legless form.
He got up and made his way to the kitchen. "Chip, heat up some tea while I get ready, OK?" He said, his gaze turned to a kettle that strangely had four stout legs and closed glass eyes. The kettle remained silent momentarily before opening its eyes and letting out a sharp whistle. Anderson smiled. "I'll take that whistle as a yes, Chip. Thanks."
It had been a few weeks now since the Anamanon phenomenon had hit his house and he was taking it pretty well even forming a habit of talking to his now sentient furniture. Of course, Anderson still took the precaution of stocking up on half-life badges as not all the sentient furniture was as helpful as Chip, prime example being his walking bed.
Feeling refreshed despite his bed's nighty antics, he took a short warm shower and put on a clean dress shirt coupled with his best pair of pants. Chip who had finished preparing the tea poured it for Anderson in a small white cup. Anderson drank his tea, stroking Chip absentmindedly. Living with sentient furniture had its quirks, but it taught him one thing: you roll with the weird. That same mindset might help with the coming interview—if he could survive a walking bed, he could handle a few tough questions.
Anderson steeled his nerves one last time and headed for the doorAnderson steeled his nerves one last time and headed for the door. He noticed Chip's gaze linger on him, the kettle's glass eyes almost glinting with worry, but he chose to brush it off. He stepped onto the sidewalk, watching a neighbor tugging on a leash attached to a squirming couch. Across the street, a child chased a tiny table scampering on stubby legs. It was just another day in the age of Anamanons.Â
The quiet commute to work allowed him to ruminate on the interview. A company going by A.R.S. had been the one to contact him. If his memory served him right, they claimed to be at the head of Anamanon research and that had been what drew him in. As the bus rolled through the city, Anderson's eyes wandered to a park bench chasing off a pair of pigeons. He couldn't help but wonder if this A.R.S. had answers about where Anamanons came from—or why some furniture seemed more stubborn than others.
The bus dropped him a few minutes walk from the building, he could see its glass roof just barely peaking over the other buildings. The walk there was filled with thoughts and ruminations, "What kind of questions would they ask?", "What would he have to do?" He couldn't stop wondering. His thoughts were caught short by the sight of his soon-to-be workplace.
What stood before him was a building ripped straight out of the future, its glass exterior separated by lines of marble, "Floors" Anderson guessed. The thing that caught his attention the most upon his entry was the sheer amount of Anamanons around him. Two bullet trains seemed to be having a heated debate as a pair of fridges played chess beside them. Anderson couldn't quite figure out how they moved the pieces but he chose not to think about it too hard, Anamanons were weird. The second thing that caught his attention was the distinct smell of greenery, it gave the entire complex a soothing vibe. It reminded him of a high-tech animal sanctuary, just with chairs and sock goblins instead of lions.
An orange-haired girl quickly caught his sight, she was the one who had recommended this job to him. Feeling his gaze, she turned and smiled upon seeing Anderson. "You came!" Dr. Vega said as she approached, an air of calm confidence around her as if she already knew he would accept her offer.
"Yep, what exactly is this?" he asked as he gestured toward the whole room. She was eager to answer "This is the Anamanon Research Society—or A.R.S. for short. With growing opposition to Half-life badges being labeled 'inhumane,' the government has given us some funding to try and figure out as much as we can behind the magic of these beauties." It didn't take much thought for him to understand why they were being labeled as such. He hadn't thought about it much but the half-life badges were basically "killing" the Anamanon on the off chance they might be trouble. It made him feel a pinch of guilt for how he had treated his bed earlier.
He pushed his thoughts away and focused on the present, "About this interview, who do I need to talk to?" Vega's response was instant "I'm actually the one in charge of that, follow me." She then turned around and walked away. Anderson followed her into a small room. "Coffee?" she asked. Anderson shook his head and awaited the first question. She took a large sit of her own cup before asking "How much do you know about Anamanons?"
The truth was, Anderson didn't know much more than anyone else did on the matter but he couldn't tell her that, it would make him look incompetent. He thought for a little and tried to formulate what he did know into something that sounded more presentable, "I know that Anamanons appeared ~20 years ago but we still haven't figured out why. Some theories insist on their appearance being divine intervention while others claim it to be something more scientific, both seem to be equally likely seeing as we know so little on the phenomenon. Though we don't know where they came from, we do know that they derive their sentience from a small ball of light in their body known as a Life Core. "
She nodded, "That's correct, so far those are the only real developments we've made when it comes to Anamanons, no amount of research seems to get us past that. That's why we've decided on a different approach. Instead of trying to investigate the Anamanons themselves, we'll investigate areas that seem to be distorted or altered by their presence. That's where you come in. " It wasn't hard to guess what she would say next, "You want me to investigate these… let's call them areas of interest?" He completed. "Exactly. The pay will float around 1.5-2k a week, you'll be sent on field missions with two other officers and are to report back everything you saw." Anderson hesitated, the pay was good but something that paid that much for just looking at things and reporting back had to have some twist. "Is it dangerous?" He asked.
"No," she said quickly. Too quickly. But her voice was steady, and Anderson didn't catch the way her fingers tightened on her cup.
Anderson nodded, satisfied with her answer, completely missing the flicker of unease in her eyes. "When can I start?" He asks. The unease faded from her eyes but Anderson didn't notice, "You'll have to undergo a short trial—" Vega sipped her coffee, watching his reaction—"just some small training to prepare you in case things don't go as planned."This worried Anderson slightly "What could go wrong?" Dr. Vega's face dropped slightly "It's not common but Anamanons can sometimes become quite…" She hesitated as if looking for a word that wouldn't scare him away "Violent" she chose.
"As long as it's not common," Anderson thought as he got up. Dr. Vega did the same and they shook hands, sealing the deal. "Last room to the right," she said.
Just as she was about to leave she bent so her mouth would be even with his ear. "You're being followed" she whispered before leaving without another word.