The gentle hum of the refrigerator units was the only sound keeping Kaidren company now. He remained slouched in the familiar pale green chair, body half-draped across it with a lazy elegance, thumbing idly through an endless stream of short videos on Zbook. The screen lit up his face in a soft, flickering blue, catching the muted, near-unblinking expression he always wore. Yet even in his detached state, his focus subtly shifted when his eyes drifted to the top right of the screen.
He stared at it a second longer than needed.
"Shift’s done," he muttered flatly, thumb pausing mid-scroll.
A quiet breath escaped his lips. With sluggish movements, he let the blue phone drop to the counter, its screen flicking off with a crisp click. The room fell a little quieter without the muffled audio from the reels. He stretched—first his arms above his head, joints cracking softly in the still air, then his legs pushing forward against the tiled floor as the chair creaked in protest. His expression never shifted.
He stood up, movements fluid but lazy, grabbing the back of the chair with one hand and dragging it behind him toward the lounging area in the back of the store. The silence felt heavier now, pressed in by the late hour and the cold fluorescent lighting.
He passed the counter once more, eyes briefly flicking toward it. "Only two customers tonight," he murmured aloud in thought. "That girl with the invisibility field... and that guy."
His brows lowered slightly.
Wearing a dark gig hoodie, face half-covered with a black mask and cap pulled low, the man had approached the counter around midnight. No introduction. Just a gravelly voice asking:
"You sell dog food? Sleeping pills? Balloons?" (Author’s Note: I saw some Manga scene on facebook and thought that it would be nice to have it in my book)
Kaidren’s response had been instinctive and brief: "No."
The man had left without a word.
Now, Kaidren returned from the lounging area a minute later, this time carrying a bucket filled with soapy water in one hand, and a long-handled mop in the other. The chair was left behind. He maneuvered wordlessly past the counter and toward the nearest aisle, scanning the white-tiled floor. He chose the one that felt the stickiest.
The mop slapped gently against the tile with a wet sound as he began to clean.
The peace of the moment settled in. The scent of synthetic citrus from the cleaning solution began to mix with the subtle coldness of the AC. The fluorescent lights overhead cast a soft glow down the aisles, highlighting rows of neatly stacked cup noodles, drinks, and snack boxes like museum artifacts.
To some, this place might have felt eerie at this hour—dead quiet, alone in a convenience store in the middle of the night. But for Kaidren, it was peaceful. The solitude was a kind of balm. The echo of his mop against the tiles. The quiet buzz of the lights. The faint scent of sweet bread and chips in the air.
He didn’t smile. But a part of him—deep, buried beneath layers of indifference—rested.
He moved methodically, mop sweeping side to side, rinsing it occasionally in the bucket, replacing cloudy water with fresh. One aisle, then the next. The floors, once dull and gritty, began to catch the light. Not mirror-clean, no, but clean enough to faintly reflect a shadow of someone’s face.
Satisfied, Kaidren rolled the bucket back toward the lounging area, leaving only the soft thud echoing behind him. The mop handle rested against his shoulder.
A few moments later, he emerged again—this time donning a pair of black rubber gloves that clung tight around his fingers. He headed toward the small bin beside the counter, knelt slightly, and pulled out the tied-off trash bag with ease. A soft plastic rustle filled the silence.
He turned next to the larger trash bin near the beverage cooler. Another bag. He hoisted both without effort and made his way toward the front entrance.
The automatic glass doors parted with a quiet hiss.
Stepping outside, Kaidren was met with a cool, stagnant wind that whispered through the empty street. He tossed the bags into the store’s external dumpster, its lid creaking faintly before falling shut. Then, clapping his gloved hands together lightly, he brushed away some invisible dust.
The street was still.
A few streetlights flickered lazily in the distance, casting thin yellow pools on the sidewalk. The houses nearby were dark, windows lifeless. No cars passed. No voices echoed. It was as though the world had fallen asleep and forgotten to wake up.
Kaidren stood silently in front of the convenience store. The automatic door behind him cast a faint rectangle of light outward, stretching across the sidewalk and onto the nearby lamppost. His face remained expressionless, bathed in a dull glow that drew out the angles of his jaw, the stillness in his eyes.
He formed an "O" shape with his mouth as he exhaled slowly, white vapor barely visible in the cool air.
No thoughts disturbed the quiet.
No worry about tomorrow, or about the past.
No fear of monsters, of factions, of broken plotlines.
Then, without a word, Kaidren turned, stepping back through the convenience store’s automatic doors. The lights welcomed him back with an artificial hum, as if the place had been waiting for him to return.
The doors hissed shut behind him.
And the night carried on.
The soft click of the lounge door echoed faintly across the empty convenience store as Kaidren stepped out, freshly changed. Gone was the pale blue work uniform, replaced by a comfortable, mismatched outfit: worn brown cotton pants with deep side pockets, a simple white t-shirt beneath a loose, oversized pink hoodie that hung lazily over his shoulders. The hoodie’s sleeves slightly covered his hands, and the fabric swayed gently with each step as he emerged from the back of the store.
Kaidren stood quietly for a moment, letting his gaze drift across the silent aisles one final time. Rows of goods slept under the soft hum of ceiling vents. His tired eyes wandered from the still ramen shelf to the untouched energy drinks in the far cooler. The fluorescent lights above still buzzed faintly overhead, an artificial noise clinging to the silence of a night nearly over.
"Guess that’s it," Kaidren muttered to himself with his usual unbothered tone, reaching for the wall-mounted light switch near the staff counter.
His hand flicked the switch with a soft click. Instantly, the store was plunged into darkness. Not a single aisle light remained. But Kaidren didn’t hesitate. Enhanced vision—just one of many gifts from being an esper—allowed him to move effortlessly through pitch-black spaces. The store might’ve been a stumbling maze to any regular person, but to him, it was familiar ground.
His steps were confident, silent. With every move, he instinctively patted the left pocket of his pants, where the cold, familiar shape of his blue phone rested. A gentle tap confirmed it was still there. Secure.
He approached the automatic sliding doors, now dormant without the interior lights powering their motion sensors. Kaidren slipped a hand into the right pocket of his hoodie, retrieving a small silver key—the physical override. With a practiced twist, the doors clamped shut, sealing the store with a low thunk.
Slipping the key back into his pocket, Kaidren muttered, "Now then... ingredients."
He pulled out his phone, the screen’s soft blue glow illuminating his face in the darkness outside the storefront. The city around him lay in slumber. Streetlights cast dim halos over cracked sidewalks and empty intersections. Neon signs blinked lazily in the distance, their colors bleeding into the misty air.
Kaidren opened the Pergle app, a familiar mosaic of icons and tabs spreading across his screen. With a few deft taps, he searched: "Aegis Bank near District 3."
Several results popped up.
He skimmed through them until his eyes settled on one not far from his apartment. Close. Convenient. A familiar part of the city.
"Perfect," he mumbled, closing the app and pocketing the phone.
The night air was cold, brushing against his cheeks like dry silk. Kaidren adjusted his hoodie and turned left, the soles of his shoes brushing the pavement in rhythmic silence. The streets ahead curved slightly, guiding him toward the small bridge that connected Block B of District 2 to District 3.
His steps were slow, but steady.
As he walked, he glanced down briefly at his empty hands. No AUR, no wallet. Not even a single coin jingled in his pockets.
Back at the apartment, he’d already searched—behind drawers, inside the fridge, even under the couch cushions. Nothing. Not a trace of physical currency. The system, despite its generous digital support, hadn’t left behind even a few spare bills.
Which meant he’d have to withdraw straight from his Aegis account.
Not ideal, but manageable.
Kaidren let out a soft exhale. No one else roamed the sidewalks. The only sounds came from his footsteps and the occasional whisper of wind weaving through power lines.
"Need the money to buy the ingredients," he reminded himself, tugging the hoodie closer to his face. "The sooner I get it, the sooner I can start."
The potion. His collateral. His gamble.
The whole idea still felt half-cooked in his mind, like an egg cracked into lukewarm water. But it was the best he had. And it had to work.
He walked onward, the bridge now coming into view—short and empty, lined with steel rails and lit by two flickering lamps at either end. Beyond it, District 3 waited, quiet and asleep. His home.
And maybe, just maybe... his first step off the rails of the old story.