Hestia housing facility
Outer Heliodor
Gregoria
September 18th
2060
A boy could be seen lying down on the roof of a house. Presumably his, as he gazed at the moonlit sky. He seemed to be lost in thought.
The roof was cold beneath his back, and the night stretched wide and open above him. He lay still, eyes fixed on the moon as it hung quietly in the sky, pouring silver light over the city. It never rushed, never demanded anything; just watched, steady and patient.
He liked the way the moonlight felt, the way it softened everything it touched. Sometimes, without really thinking about it, he would press his lips together and kiss the air, aiming for the moon itself. He didn't know why he did it. There was no reason, no memory tied to it. It just felt right, like a small, private habit meant only for the night.
Under its glow, the world felt distant and honest, stripped of noise and urgency. And as he lay there, gazing upward, the moon remained—silent, luminous, and strangely receptive. Like a mother's embrace.
"How long has it been since I ran away from that annoying prison". He muttered. Sighing as he ran a hand through his glossy black hair. "Two years?, three?, Who cares. I made it. The old man can shove it. He said dryly. Two middle fingers in the air.
He was a very good-looking teenager. With long unruly black hair that covered most of his face, save for his sharp jaw line, giving him a rebellious look, and apathetic grey eyes that looked silver in some light.
He wore a black t-shirt, a grey zip-up hoodie, and grey sweat pants of the same shade. He had on flip flops on his feet. One could mistake him for a doll if he weren't well; alive.
As he reminisced and pondered on the future his phone rang, bringing him back to reality.
He dipped his hands into his hoodie's pocket and brought out his phone. Unknown Caller ID flashed across the screen but seeing the familiar number he groaned.
He contemplated getting rid of the phone and just getting a new one but he didn't. Knowing fully well that would just motivate the caller to find his latest hideout.
Finally picking up the phone he echoed a dry "Sup?". As he pinched his brow. Already preparing for a lecture.
" What do you mean 'Sup' Mael, Where the hell have you been? I've been trying to reach you for months now ". A feminine voice echoed through the phone. Practically screaming at him.
"Better question, how did you get this number…..sis?". He asked with a tired sigh.
Yes sister, the woman on the phone was his eldest sister Aurelia. The second child of his 'oh so well beloved' father.
"What do you mean by that? I've been trying to get to you for quite a while now and this is what you say to me? How rude". She replied. He could almost see her pouting like a rebellious teenager. How ironic, given that he was the rebellious teenager.
"What do you want Lia?". He intoned, already finding the conversation draining.
"Fine. It's high time you came home don't you think? It's been how long and I miss you. We've all missed you". She said almost pleadingly.
"Haaa…Even if I believed you for a second. I'm not coming back to that prison Lia. At least not willingly".
" Ishmael it's important, father said...". She started but got cut off by the teenager.
" He said or he ordered?, I suspected he would do something about my running away and he did. He sent you didn't he? ". He asked calmly. But Leah knowing him could tell he was angry.
"It's not what you think Mael….Something big….Something huge is coming….He's just trying to protect us". She replied. Already panicking.
" Protect us huh? Well, I've not needed his protection for quite some time now sis. Let's keep it that way. I'm fully capable of protecting myself. " He retorted. Not a speck of emotion on his face.
" Wait Mael, listen to me….
" Goodbye Aurelia ". Zorah concluded. Casually ending the call. He got up from his spot on the roof, dusted off his pants, and climbed down using his trusty ladder.
As he slowly made his way into his apartment he couldn't help but think about his conversation with Lia.
She was always the type to worry about family and whatnot but she sounded desperate. A little too desperate.
" Should I just listen to her and go home? " Ishmael pondered aloud.
He entered his house, before he could settle into his comfy sofa the power went out plunging the whole city into darkness.
The hum of refrigerators died. Streetlamps winked out in unison, leaving the city draped in unnatural darkness. Phones froze mid-scroll; TVs sputtered and went black. A single, low buzz lingered in the silence, like the world itself was holding its breath.
Outside, the usual night sounds—the distant rumble of traffic, the faint whine of a passing train—stopped. Even the wind seemed to hesitate. In the apartment above, a clock ticked its last few seconds before the hands froze, stuck at 8:17 PM.
And then came the first scream.
People stumbled into hallways, knocking over chairs and toys, mouths opening to call out but finding only echoes. The city smelled different—whole, charged, like ozone after a storm that never arrived.
Somewhere in the distance, a siren wailed, but it wasn't the emergency broadcast. It was something… else. A warning, or perhaps the world announcing its collapse.
No one knew yet what had gone wrong. But in the absence of light, the first instinct was fear—and in the absence of power, civilization had already started to forget itself.
And in the midst of this people all over the world felt something unlock in them. Something that had always been but was dormant. And with that a wave of energy that rewrote and redesigned the human physiology.
A wave of energy that promised Evolution if only you could survive its touch.
The process was far from painless as Ishmael found himself on the floor squirming. A floating panel appeared in front of his eyes. He could barely make out a few words before he lost consciousness.
[ Welcome back to the Interstellar stage and congratulations on your Ascension, Humans of Gregoria. ]