The warmth of soft cotton sheets wrapped around me. My fingers twitched. The lingering sensation of dirt and stone slowly faded from my limbs. No pain. No tension. Just... stillness. My eyes fluttered open to the pale morning light leaking through the window blinds. A familiar ceiling met my gaze, plain white, with the tiny cracks I always meant to paint over. A slow breath left my chest. No mandibles. No exoskeleton. The air replaced the murkiness with the fresh, countryside air. "Ah, so it was a dream after all." I sat up.
The weight of my blanket shifted with me as I glanced around. My desk was right where it had always been, cluttered with notes, game sketches, energy drink cans long emptied. The table still littered, my half-eaten sandwich left undevoured. My monitor still hummed quietly. A low blue glow pulsed across the screen from my development environment. The game.
I blinked, standing up slowly. The wooden floor creaked beneath my bare feet. I padded over to the desk and leaned forward. The code was still running. My prototype AI, the mana system interface, colony mechanics... everything was there. "Yep, it really was just a dream..." I muttered to no one.
I reached for the power switch and pressed it. The screen dimmed into blackness. A silence followed, pierced only by the distant chirping of birds outside my window. With a half-smile and heavy limbs, I walked into the bathroom. Light spilled across the tiles, warm and soft. I faced the mirror and stared.
A fair face with defined cheekbones, pale but clear skin. Eyes that bore a sharpness not quite youthful anymore, but still bright, even though dark circles surrounded them. My sleek black hair, a little tousled from sleep, shimmered faintly in the sunlight. It was me. Just the plain old me. I splashed water on my face, cold and jarring. My reflection blurred. I took up my toothbrush, applied a stripe of minty paste, and began scrubbing. Familiar motions. Normalcy in every swipe.
The taste of mint coated my mouth as the foam built, and I spit it out into the sink, watching it swirl down the drain like something distant. I washed my face again, drying it with the soft white towel that hung next to the mirror. I walked to my closet and slipped on a clean white t-shirt. Soft cotton hugged my torso. I paired it with black jeans, fitted and slightly faded. Comfortable. I glanced at myself one last time. I tried to say something.... but words couldn't fathom my feelings.
I moved into the kitchen. A subtle breeze came through the half-open window, carrying with it the scent of morning dew, damp soil, and a few distant flowers. Birds chirped in rhythmic melody, some closer, some farther away. A lone dove cooed from the rooftop across the street. I opened the fridge. The cool wave hit me as I reached in and grabbed a pack of eggs, shredded cheese, a stick of butter, and a chilled carton of mango juice. I poured the juice into a tall glass, its sweet, tropical aroma rising instantly and making my mouth water.
I cracked the eggs into a bowl, three of them. Their yolks glistened like golden suns. I whisked them briskly, adding a pinch of salt and black pepper. I turned on the stove. The gentle click-click-FOOMPH of the gas igniting sounded like a heartbeat. I placed a pan on it and let the butter melt, spreading with a rich, golden sizzle.
The aroma of melted butter filled the space. I poured the eggs in. A soft hiss followed, the surface bubbling gently. I added a sprinkle of cheese, watching it melt into the soft folds as I flipped the omelet skillfully. The kitchen filled with the scent of cooked eggs and creamy cheddar. My stomach rumbled softly. I plated the omelet, golden and fluffy, cheese seeping from the seams. Beside it, I added grilled slices of bread, still steaming slightly. The mango juice stood like a jewel next to it. I sat at the table and glanced up at the clock.
7:30 a.m.
The silence was comfortable, wrapped in the sound of birdsong and the distant hum of the world beyond the window. I took a bite.
Warm, rich, savory. The egg practically melted in my mouth, balanced by the tangy sweetness of the mango juice. Every bite grounded me further. Each chew was like clinging to something I thought I had lost. I made sure to savor every bite down my throat. Then I stood, slipping on a pair of white sneakers. My footsteps echoed softly on the apartment tiles as I walked out the door. The fresh air greeted me like an old friend. A breeze swept across my face, brushing my hair back gently. The sky stretched wide and blue. The world smelled like cut grass and pollen, life and motion. I walked to the park.
The trees stood tall like guardians. Leaves rustled overhead. The gravel path crunched beneath my feet. The air was crisp and clean. I climbed a gentle slope and reached a grassy hilltop. The wind picked up here. It tugged at my shirt, fluttered my jeans. My eyes closed as I let it carry me. Peace.
Then something moved in the distance. A little girl, wearing a white summer dress and a sunflower hat. She was facing away from me, but something in the curve of her shoulders, in the tilt of her head... familiar. She turned.
Her face was radiant. A smile. Her small hand lifted into the air. "Brother!"
She waved.
Then the wind changed.
The soft chirping of birds was drowned out by the roar of an engine. A truck.
A flash of metal.
Screams.
CRASH.
My eyes snapped open, my heart pounding.
Reality returned with a malicious smile once more.