What if, this time, it wasn't the earth shaking… but the bond of friendship holding you together ?
Nearly twenty years ago, the world trembled. A deafening roar split the sky — the sound of apocalypse. Shockwaves, screaming, desperate cries for help.
"Haaaaaaaaaaaaa! Help! My God! Nooooooo!"
Concrete crumbled. Buildings folded like paper towers. The ground rippled like a stormy sea. Some ran. Others froze. Skyscrapers collapsed one after the other.
After years of disasters, one massive earthquake shattered the continent, redrawing the world's map. Biel, once a thriving city, became a patchwork of ruins and future fragments. A moist heat now hung in the air, as tropical jungle slowly crept in around the edges of the city.
Eighteen years later, society limped forward, balanced on fragile and unequal foundations. Biel operated at two speeds: on one side, abundance; on the other, survival as an art. A harsh reality for some — and privilege for others.
In a cracked old building deep in "Groundside," a foggy window caught the golden fingertips of morning. Light filtered through the slats of a battered blind, sliding into a modest room where faint snores betrayed a sleeping presence.
"FRFF… FRFF…"
Suddenly, soft, slightly synthetic barks echoed through the room.
"WOOF! WOOF! WOOF!"
Sophie jolted upright. Sweat clung to her temples. Her throat was dry. She'd just escaped a nightmare... and the voices, still hazy, lingered like ghosts.
"Was that… just a dream?"
She lay still, panting on her crumpled sheets. Jazz, her little robot dog, stared at her with glowing LED eyes.
"WOOF… WOOF…"
"I'm losing it… Am I turning into her?" she whispered, voice shaky.
Jazz tilted his head, triggering his adorable synth-voice.
"Warning! Stress level detected! Should I activate Emergency Cuddle Mode?"
She cracked a smile, sat up, knees pulled tight to her chest, T-shirt damp and clinging to her skin.
"Thanks… Good thing you're here. It felt so real, Jazz. The spirits were talking… like they did with her…"
Jazz curled up beside her.
"No worries. Even if they're creepy, I'm here to turn 'em into breezes! Who could resist a dog this awesome? Ha-ha-ha!"
"Ha… ha… Jazz. But my dreams… they tend to come true. I need to be ready."
"No stress! Aria's probably inventing some anti-spirit gadget while you're panicking!"
"You're right… I need to talk to her. She always knows what to do."
"She can upgrade me too! Ghost-hunting mode: loading!"
Sophie stood and surveyed the mess. Her room was chaos — clothes, wires, dog-eared books everywhere.
"Where the hell is that phone?! This is practically a stealth mission..."
"If finding your stuff was an app, it'd be permanently under maintenance," Jazz quipped.
She dug under blankets, through piles of clothes, and spotted it between a sneaker and a pair of shorts. Snatched it up. Her hands trembled as the screen blinked on.
She typed:
Where are you? Urgent. Call me.
She waited. Nothing. No "seen." No reply.
"This isn't right… she always answers fast…"
Jazz perked up, mischievous:
"Maybe she's rewriting the world… or debugging my kibble sensor!"
Then, mock-serious:
"Meanwhile, you've still got that thing called… 'class.' Shall we?"
Sophie got dressed fast — white dress, lightning-speed toothbrush, tossed two books, old laptop, low heels into a worn-out bag, and laced up her red sneakers.
A few minutes later, she and Jazz tore down the creaky stairwell. Walls layered with resistance posters half-ripped over Kaïssa's punishment decrees. The air stank — sour and metallic from the trash room.
Outside, the sun already scorched. Beads of condensation streamed down cracked walls. In places, the sidewalk seemed to melt.
"The air's gross…" Sophie muttered.
Under an ivy-covered arch, kids played digital hopscotch, neon squares flashing beneath their feet. A vendor hollered prices for ionized water. Teens darted by on modded scooters, engines buzzing around every bend.
"If we run fast enough, can we reverse time and not be late?" Jazz joked.
She smiled despite herself, but stress still coiled in her gut as they sprinted through the broken streets of "Groundside."
The university — a repurposed admin building — looked ready to fall apart. Glass façade cracked, solar panels crooked, wires hanging like webs.
Inside, the light blasted off the floors. Each reflection sharper than the last. Students were slouched, zoned into music, games, or feeds.
Sophie walked fast. Jazz trotted behind.
"Hey, Sophie! Wait up!"
Numa darted through the crowd, messenger bag bouncing.
"You okay? You look… tense."
"Bad dream. And Aria's not answering. It feels… wrong."
They slipped into class. Jazz stopped at the door.
"You'll wait here?" Sophie whispered.
"You're walking in with a local legend. Relax — cool is contagious," Jazz said.
The classroom was cold, sterile. Giant screen. Numbered chairs. Metal desks.
The teacher arrived.
"Today's BYOD. Devices out — phones, tablets, implants…"
Numa stood.
"You know Groundside kids don't have insert-phones. Why pretend otherwise?"
Murmurs exploded.
"Why don't we get the same gear as Uptown?"
"I wanna transfer to Vers le Ciel!"
"You think we can score some on the black market?"
Sophie tapped her screen again. Still nothing.
She leaned to Numa.
"This isn't her. Something's wrong."
"You heard the rumors? Implants mess with you — your brain, memory, even focus."
"Maybe things aren't so perfect up there either."
"You think they've got as many people cracking up as we do?"
Sophie dropped her gaze.
"My mom… she's slipping. Talking to spirits more and more. Like she's fading…"
He rested a hand on hers.
"You think she's infected too?"
She nodded.
"She works for Kaïssa. Not dumped behind the Wall like the others yet… but it's close."
"We won't let that happen. Not to her. Not to you."
She thanked him with a look.
Then someone shouted:
"Anyone here know about the Circle of the Alliance?"
Buzz ignited.
"Urban legend!"
"No — people post about them all the time!"
"They live beyond the Wall — with the nature spirits! They're not insane!"
The teacher slammed his desk.
"Enough! That's garbage! Get to work!"
He pulled up his terminal.
"You have thirty minutes. Write a short essay: 'The benefits of citizen implants in stabilizing post-crisis society.' Use the official files. No conspiracy nonsense — facts only."
Tension thickened the air. Some sighed. Others tapped away, screens flaring on.
Thirty minutes later, the bell rang.
Sophie grabbed her bag. One last glance at her phone. Still no reply.
Something's off. Aria…
"Caf' time!" Numa called, eyes scanning the crowd.
A few girls giggled.
"We're coming, Numa!"
But he wasn't looking at them.
"Sophie… you coming?"
She clutched her bag.
"No. I'm finding Aria. Something's wrong."
Guardian Angel: Numa is one of those people you notice — without quite knowing why.
Sure, he's good-looking. But it's mostly that quiet confidence, that subtle magnetism.
He wears the mystery of his origins with an effortless elegance.
That blend of detachment and privilege draws people in…
without him ever needing to try.
To be continued…
Thank you for reading. What do you think? What theory do you have?
Your time and presence in this story truly matter.
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Worlds Reconciled is a slow-burn fantasy about perception, transformation, and the hidden worlds that exist beyond the one we think we know.
Further echoes of this universe can be found here:
https://linktr.ee/worldsreconciled
Elea 🤩