When reality fractures, do you still trust what you see ?
Sophie exited the classroom briskly, convinced she'd find Jazz, as always, right behind the door. But this time… nothing. No little robotic paw tap, no bark, not even a blinking light.
Seriously? You decided to live your best life without me, Jazz? You're just like Numa and his fangirls…
In the hallway leading to the classrooms, she leaned against a window, her gaze lost in the void. It wasn't worry just yet, more like a faint unease, a diffuse imbalance.
Did Aria really disappear?
Her first instinct was crystal clear: find her. She turned her phone back on. The screen reflected her face — dark circles, pale, marked by a restless night.
Aria… You're not even checking your messages? That's so not like you. What's going on?
Her fingers slid nervously over the cold surface.
Who do I contact? Her grandma? She can't hear anything anymore. Or Evin… her weird roommate who talks like a caffeine-fueled AI? Seriously, why did she pick that chick again?
Still nothing. The screen remained frozen. No notifications. Just her own reflection, as anxious as it was exhausted, in the black mirror of her phone.
Great. I look like I haven't slept in a week. Do I even have Evin's number?
Sophie sighed. Something wasn't right.
Earlier that same morning…
The sun hadn't yet pierced the fog when Aria grabbed her keys with a precise motion.
In the entryway, an old clock read 05:37. On the shelf, framed, her advanced tech diploma still sat proudly — a relic of her talent.
"You said you wouldn't go anymore," called Evin, her roommate, from the kitchen.
"Me? I never said that. You're dreaming, Evin."
She threw on an oversized black hoodie, then slid into her bag several screwdrivers, a multi-tool, and a few other carefully selected instruments. Every move was fast, precise.
"You think I'm gonna abandon their gear? My friends count on me."
Evin approached, arms crossed, a serious look on her face. She tilted her head slightly, her gaze heavy on Aria.
"You're going back to rummage in his factory? You know he's dangerous."
"He's never there at this hour. Jim confirmed it. And seriously… who wastes time digging through trash?"
"Aria, I'm not your grandma. I'm telling you this because I care. You're taking too many risks. And for what? You don't even have a real paycheck, even though you're fixing half the neighborhood's stuff."
Aria gave a smile — the kind you wear when you're about to do exactly what you shouldn't.
"I'm careful. And with my gear, you know… I'm basically invisible."
She opened the door. A warm breeze swept in, lifting a flap of her hoodie. The outside world swallowed her noiselessly, as if it had been waiting.
Her muffled steps barely echoed on the asphalt warmed by yesterday's sun.
"TAP… TAP… TAP…"
She passed along crumbling buildings, gliding like a shadow through the cracks of a still-sleeping city. Her body blended into the corners, invisible, almost unreal.
The streets were quiet — too quiet. The curfew hadn't officially been lifted. But soon, they would teem with the kind of parallel life no one dared to name: black markets, whispered trades, murmured deals.
Aria pulled a small immersive headset from her bag and slipped it onto her nose. A faint buzz vibrated in her ear — activation confirmed.
No signal. No drones, no cops. I'm clean. My superpower is stealth. Thanks, tech.
She smirked. Police and drones barely dared to venture into these lower neighborhoods anymore. They stayed safe and warm on the other side, guarding their own.
She quickened her pace. The factory wasn't far now.
A rusted building, battered by wind, heat, and time, stood between two half-collapsed blocks. Its facade was slashed with multicolored tags, its windows shattered. And yet, this was where you found what no one else was looking for — a real goldmine.
Aria pushed the door open. The familiar metallic scent wrapped around her instantly.
She walked down a narrow corridor. The walls were streaked with runoff. Half-open doors revealed rooms filled with all kinds of containers, lit by flickering, dying neon lights.
At the end, the main hall. Two men hunched over heaps of cables, hands deep in machine guts, sorting old electronic parts. The silence was only broken by the scraping of components and the distant hum of transformers.
"Hey Jim," she whispered. "Don't want to bother. Can I go to the other room?"
Jim looked up. Despite barely being 35, his hair was already streaked with gray. He gave a tired but genuine smile.
"You again? You've been coming by a lot lately…"
"My uni friends have nothing left. Too expensive, too risky, illegal. So I fix stuff for them."
"You're good… Aren't you a bit young to be hacking computers?"
She shrugged.
"It's not just computers, Jim. It's advanced tech. It's in my veins. My parents passed it on, before they…"
She stopped. No need to say more.
He nodded slowly, understanding.
"Be quick. There's talk… Blade's been hanging around more often. That guy doesn't mess around. And you're too cute to vanish."
She replied with a slight wink, then called out as she walked away:
"No worries. I know how to stay small. I go invisible when I need to."
She slipped through a narrow, dark side corridor leading to a half-loosened door. Behind it, another world: stacks of components piled like forgotten treasures, motherboards eaten by time, scorched and dented circuits still humming with electricity.
Aria settled in front of an old rusted container, her hands already in motion. She sifted, assessed, untangled the hidden gems beneath layers of hardware.
"I need a part for Numa… his phone is lagging like crazy. And a thermal sensor for Jazz… Sophie is going to freak out. And most importantly, a few old components to fix my mother's external drives."
She scanned, sorted, collected like a squirrel on a mission. For her, the components slid through her fingers like tech gemstones.
Come on, Aria… you're not here to dawdle. This is a minefield, not your local market.
Suddenly, a soft click. A box opened under her palm. She smiled.
"Aria's repair service, always at your service."
But suddenly, her ears twitched. A sound, light, but loaded with menace.
"TAP… TAP… TAP…"
Heavy footsteps from the end of the hallway, approaching. She froze, slowly turned. Then a deep, raspy voice, sharp as a blade:
"Someone here?! I don't want ANYONE here!"
Blade.
He appeared in the doorway. His domineering frame filled the space. His black eyes burned into her with laser-like intensity.
"WHO ARE YOU?! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?!"
It was as if a polar wind bit into her spine. Her brain went blank. Her limbs froze, her thoughts stalled.
"I-I'm a friend of Jim… I was just grabbing a part… one part…"
"Jim's gonna pay. And so are you. ONLY my crew comes in here. No exceptions."
She clutched her bag like a useless shield.
"I'm leaving… I won't say anything. You won't see me again, I swear."
But he laughed — a dry, cracked laugh that echoed off the walls.
"You think so? NO ONE leaves here alive. GET IT?!"
She stepped back, breath short.
"I… I can pay. I'll give you whatever you want. Really."
"Shut up."
A violent shiver passed through her. She saw his fists clench, his shoulders tense. And his eyes… slowly turned a burning red.
He roared, then, without warning, his arm snapped. And before she could dodge…
BAM!
His fist slammed into the center of her chest. The impact struck like lightning. The air was knocked clean from her lungs. She barely had time to gasp before her body was hurled backward.
She flew across the room like a rag doll, crashing into a pile of old surveillance monitors. The crash shattered several, glass shards exploding around her.
She hit the floor, arms gashed in multiple places. Blood streamed down her now-pale skin. Her chest screamed. Every breath was torture, as if the air refused to return.
And yet… she was still conscious, dazed, wounded. Short of breath but lucid, just enough to hear Blade growling as his phone buzzed in his pocket.
"I'm taking this call… but when I'm back, you're done."
He turned, walked out slowly, leaving the room thick with suspended tension.
Then, a movement at the edge of the light. A silhouette slid from the shadows, silent, almost ethereal. Someone… or something, moved closer, quick and fluid, skimming the floor like a breeze.
Lying down, Aria fought to keep her eyes open. Her vision blurred. The shape drew near.
Then suddenly, a face above her. A snout. Deep, dark eyes.
An animal…? A head of…? I… I must be hallucinating… A stag…?
The creature stared at her. It seemed real, almost tangible. And yet unreal, both man and beast.
Her mouth opened to speak, but no sound came. Her voice was gone, her warmth too. Cold seeped into her limbs.
The being crouched gently beside her. A breath, a hand, fingers brushing her skin, checking her pulse.
Then suddenly, a young, calm, almost tender voice broke the silence:
"Yikes… She's in bad shape."
Everything went black.
"She's lost consciousness," the voice murmured.
"I need to take her. Fast, really fast…"
Guardian Angel: The stag embodies the forces of kingship and the Father authority, which is why all forest dwellers recognize him as their king.
To be continued…
Thank you for reading. What do you think? What theory do you have?
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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.
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Elea 🤩