Chapter 1: The Whispers of a God's Dream
The sun was sinking low and taking its time over the sprawling cityscape of Meridian Heights, patting the skies in fiery orange and soft pink. Amid the chorus of honking horns, the screams of frantic street vendors, and hurried footsteps, there was an apartment that stood apart-it probably had to do with its unusually lethargic aura. Inside did lie Lance Drayton, docked in a threadbare couch, surrounded by books and gadgets strewn across the floor. He turned the pages of his phone in a lazy manner, and a faint, almost imperceptible smirk pulled at his lips.
"Another up-top day," he murmured, his satisfaction tinged with the contentment lacing his voice.
The door to his apartment slammed open, and there walked a young man with disheveled hair, breathless face running on the flushed side. Nate, this was the name of the boy and Lance's childhood friend, self-appointed conscience.
"Lance! This can't go on," Nate huffed, leaning against the doorframe. "Overdue rent, Ms Cavanaugh is all set to kick you out. Do you even care?"
Lance's brow raised and his smirk widened. "Care? That's a pretty strong word for me, Nate. I think of it more as... select prioritization."
"Selective--" Groaning, Nate threw up his hands. "You're impossible. You've got the brains to fix this mess, but you'd rather waste away here. You're-"
"A genius," Lance interrupted as he sat up, eyes glinting impish light. "Why trouble yourself with mundane problems when there exists a vast world of possibilities beyond? For instance..." He leaned forward and whispered hush-hush. "Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be God?"
Nate blinked. "A God? Lance, you're crazy!"
"You'd envy rather," Lance said, stretching lazily across his length. "Consider it. Ultimate freedom-the limitless power for making a world your own. That's the fullest escape from this misshapen life."
"You're insane," Nate muttered to him. "And delusional," he called, casting an admiring glance in his best friend's direction.
The smirk faded, the replacement intensity not seen much by Nate. "Insanity and genius often walk hand-in-hand. Remember that."
There was a knock at the door before their conversation could go any further. Not expecting anyone, Lance frowned slightly. Nate opened the door angrily, revealing a woman dressed in a sleek black suit whose sharp gaze swept over the disheveled apartment before landing on Lance. "Mr. Drayton," she said, her voice cool and businesslike. "My name is Celeste Varn, and I'm with the organization who believes you have... unique potential."
Lance raised an eyebrow. "Unique potential? Sounds like a scam."
Slight smirk by Celeste: "Not at all." "Just means that we have been eyeing you, and we have been impressed with your... unconventional approach to life."
Crossed his arms, glaring back at her. "What kind of organization are you dealing with, by the way?"
"One that doesn't involve itself in the public eye," she replied cryptically. "We handle matters of awesome importance—technology, power, and the future itself of humanity."
Lance smiled mildly, leaning back. "Cool offer. But why me?"
Celeste narrowed her eyes a little. "Because you are not constrained by conventional thinking and your last name. You see the wider picture. We believe you could play a pivotal role in shaping the future of the world."
Nate shot a warning supercilious glance towards Lance, but Lance's interest had already been tickled. "And what do I get out of it?"
"Opportunities you have yet to attach to your imaginations," Celeste said. "Access to resources, to knowledge, and to power. Think of them as stepping stones towards that godhood you were saying of."
Lance chuckled, a low, almost dangerous sound. "You've done your homework. Alright, Ms. Varn, let's hear more."
Celeste's "pitch" was nothing short of extraordinary, for she spoke of a world underground, a place where ancient families exercised the most unimaginable powers and where technology blurred definitions between man and machine, and where a secret feud was brewing over the right to godhood.
"Power is what families are after," Celeste stated evenly. "Some use technology for it; some have resorted to archaic practices and superhuman methods to achieve it. It's a strategy game, ruthless, and stakes can't be higher."
"You're dicing me into this game then?" Lance inquired, his tone having that tang of mistrust.
"Not just join," Celeste said with gaze sticking to the latter. "Win."
Lance let out a low whistle. "Ambitious. But why should I trust you?"
Celeste's expression did not change. "You shouldn't. There is no room for luxury of trust in this game. Just think that the other option is to remain here, rotting on that couch, passing time as the world outside it keeps on moving without you."
Nate stepped in rather angrily. "Lance, this sounds dangerous. You have no idea what you're getting yourself into."
Lance's smirk returned, sharper than before. "Dangerous? Sure. But isn't that what makes life interesting?"
Celeste handed him a sleek black card. "If you're interested, come to this address tomorrow night. We'll be waiting."
As she left, Nate turned to Lance, frustration evidencing itself on his face. "You're not actually considering this, are you?"
He flipped the card between his fingers, hyperventilating with lots of thoughts in his head. "Why not? It is better than doing nothing all day long,- Nate, don't you think it's time we start playing much bigger?"
Lance Montgomery had just decided to wake up, although the world was yet to know.