The clang of metal against concrete, the distant growl of cars, and the ever-present hum of a busy city were Elias's morning symphony.
He was in his early twenties, a young, hard-working man, currently sipping lukewarm instant coffee from a chipped mug. His other hand held a hammer, the satisfying thwack echoing as he drove another nail deep into the skeletal framework of what would soon be a new commercial building.
Dust motes danced in the streaks of sunlight cutting through the half-finished structure. Another Monday, another rung on the ladder of just getting by.
He adjusted his hard hat, the sweat already beading on his forehead despite the early hour. Construction was honest work, brutal on the body, but honest. It kept his mind mostly empty, which was fine by him.
No grand ambitions. Just rent, food, and maybe enough leftover for a new game on his old phone. He took another gulp of coffee, grimacing at the bitter aftertaste. The usual safety briefings were just background noise, a distant hum of urban caution. He'd done this a thousand times.
"Hard at work, aren't ya, Elias?" A voice boomed from across the site. Elias looked up to see a man approaching, juggling a precarious stack of pizza boxes.
"Here, catch!" He tossed a smaller box, which Elias deftly snagged, revealing two slices inside.
"Boss bought 'em. Not much, but enjoy. Oh, and Dezon mentioned you're looking for some cash for those college fees, is that right?"
Elias gave a sheepish smile, scratching at his hard hat. "Yeah, you got that right. Gotta pay for this semester so I can finally graduate and get a job where my back won't ache by noon." He looked at the man.
"Seriously, I'm amazed how much you take pride in this, Sir Hank. How many years have you been in this job?"
Hank grinned, running a calloused hand through his sparse hair. "Hah! Long enough to know every creak and groan of these steel beams better than my own bones, kid! And trust me, that's a lot longer than it takes to get some sense knocked into you. Don't worry, your time's coming. Soon you'll be trading this hard hat for a desk chair, if that's what you're after. Just remember where you started."
Elias looked at him, his gaze holding a weight of respect that belied his next words. "Why should I? This job's just bleeding my precious youth dry, old man."
Hank laughed, a booming sound that echoed slightly off the metal framework. He reached out and playfully rubbed Elias's hard hat with a smile, then his hand stilled. "Ah right, almost forgot. The boss wanted to give you this." He took a small, folded envelope from his pocket and handed it over.
"What's this?" Elias asked, turning the envelope over in his hand. Hank just smiled, urging him silently to open it.
With a surge of curiosity, Elias inspected the envelope. His name was clearly written on the front. He tore it open, and his eyes widened. Inside, a crisp one hundred-dollar bill peeked out. Elias's jaw dropped, and he immediately looked back at Hank, his face splitting into an almost joyous, disbelieving grin.
"Is this serious?!" Elias practically shouted, clutching the bill.
Hank laughed, a warm, paternal sound. "Serious as a heart attack, kid. Boss always had a soft spot for the hardworking ones, and he heard about your fees."
Elias couldn't stop grinning. "Man, this is a lifesaver! I can finally pay off a portion of that last tuition installment... maybe even grab a decent meal that isn't instant noodles for once." He folded the bill carefully, tucking it into his pocket, already feeling lighter, more hopeful about his future.
"Thanks, Hank.. Really."
"You shouldn't be thanking me. If you have time later, go and visit the boss to thank him properly and since paycheck day is coming just around the corner, expect more money coming your way kid." He clapped Elias on the shoulder, a final, firm gesture.
"Now get back to work before the boss wonders why his star student is slacking off, but before that, you should finish up those two slices of pizza you got there. Don't want good food going to waste, especially when it's free, eh?" Hank winked, already turning to continue his rounds.
Elias grinned, offering a quick, grateful nod as Hank walked off, whistling a jaunty, off-key tune. He glanced down at the pizza box laying beside where he last sat. The cheesy aroma was actually quite appealing now that his initial shock had worn off.
He quickly devoured the slices, the simple meal tasting like a feast after the morning's emotional roller coaster. With a renewed sense of purpose, a full stomach, and the reassuring weight of the hundred-dollar bill in his pocket, Elias crumpled the empty pizza box and tossed it into a nearby bin.
The sun beat down, turning the construction site into a sweltering oven. Hours blurred into a rhythm of sweat and steel. Elias, still riding the high of the unexpected windfall, was focused on fitting a new section of rebar into place on the half-completed third floor, the roar of machinery a familiar backdrop.
And amidst these sounds, a bell rang out across the site, followed by a shout from one of the workers, "DAY IS OVER! Finish things up and prepare to head home!"
The bell's final peal mingled with the happy chatter and replies of other workers, a collective sigh of relief after a tiring day.
Elias, hearing the announcement, quickly finished his last tasks. With a final, satisfying hit of a nail on a wood support, he wiped sweat from his forehead and straightened, taking a deep breath, savoring the good day. He then left the tools he is using on a corner and went down humming a tune to catch up with the others.
As he descended the site, his gaze caught on something unusual atop one of the floor tile piles. It was near the makeshift stairs that connected to the third floor, where he had been working. A faint gleam caught his eye, and he noticed the object seemed to be resting on something other than just tiles.
Curiosity piqued, he paused and moved towards it. With each step, the shape of the shining object, and the item it lay upon, became clearer. Finally, with one last step, he stood before it: it is an expensive-looking necklace draped over a leather-bound book.
He reached out and carefully picked up the necklace. It was forged from gleaming sterling silver, cool and smooth against his fingertips. The delicate chain wasn't simply linked; it was a intricate filigree, dotted at precise intervals with tiny, sparkling gemstones. Each stone caught the ambient light, not with the fiery brilliance of a diamond, but with the subtle, ethereal glow of polished moonstones or frosted quartz, scattering faint, cool light like captured starlight.
At the very center, the silver converged into a beautifully crafted symbol, rendered with exquisite detail. It was the same flowing, organic design he had just glimpsed, its elegant curves and spirals meticulously formed from polished silver.
The symbol itself seemed to shimmer with an inner luminescence, a testament to the skill of its maker and the quality of the metal. The entire piece felt surprisingly light yet undeniably ancient, radiating a quiet, undeniable presence.
Afterwards, he slowly placed the necklace back down on the tile and turned his attention to the leather-bound book. It was in surprisingly good condition, with only a few worn bits suggesting it had been handled often.
As he examined it closely, he noticed a symbol etched at the top of the front cover. It was a perfectly symmetrical design, vertically centered, displaying a striking contrast of colored elements.
At its core, a four-petaled lotus flower unfurled, rendered in varying shades of pink. Its petals were pointed and stylized, giving the impression of a bloom perpetually opening.
Extending outwards from this central lotus, both above and below it, were two distinct figures. Each resembled a stylized phoenix with widespread wings, depicted in a vibrant array of deep reds, oranges, and radiant yellows, creating a dynamic, fiery appearance within their forms. Their wing-like structures were composed of multiple, layered shapes that tapered to sharp points, conveying a sense of upward and outward movement.
And at the very bottom of this intricate symbol, a word was written in unknown letters arranged in a straight line. The characters themselves were like a secret language:
first, a serpent-like form, resembling a jagged bolt of lightning or a winding river's bend, seemed to crackle with hidden energy. Beside it, an arrow, sharp and resolute, pointed ever upward, suggesting purpose or destiny.
Then, a softer, more open shape, like a branching staff or a gentle, sloping "A", seemed to hum with a quiet wisdom.
The lightning-serpent appeared again, a resonant echo of the first, followed by a lone, unyielding pillar, perfectly straight and slender, hinting at steadfastness or frozen stillness. And Finally, the soft, branching staff reappeared, completing the sequence.
Upon examining the two objects, he immediately looked around for their owner, but the entire floor was empty; he was alone. He scratched his head in disbelief at the thought of something so expensive being left behind at a construction site, let alone someone even bringing something like this here.
"I don't remember anyone bringing this today... Is it boss's stuff? I should bring this to him if that's the case, or just leave it on the table at his office. Leaving it here... someone might take it for themselves.", he smiled as he slowly picks up the necklace from the tile,
"The boss, might even given me a bonus for bringing this back to him.. well that is if it's his or not" he chuckled at the thought.
Upon picking up the book and the necklace, He heard a sudden, sharp crackling sound from above. Without any warning, he gazed up in the direction of the noise. There he saw it.
A massive steel beam and a significant section of the concrete it supported were plummeting, mere inches away from him. He had no time to react. It was as if the world itself had stretched, slowed down to a crawl in that horrifying moment. He could hear his own heart hammering, feel his last breath caught in his throat, and watch his future, once so tangible, slowly drift further and further out of reach as the crushing mass grew impossibly closer.
And then world shattered.
Not just the concrete and beam slowly agonizing his fragile body, but everything. Elias felt an impossible pressure, like every atom of his being was being ripped apart and then compressed into nothingness.
There was no pain, not really, just an overwhelming, blinding white light that consumed him, followed by an absolute, terrifying void. He had no body, no thoughts, just a sensation of falling endlessly through pure, unadulterated oblivion.
Time ceased to exist.
His own name, the memory of the construction site, the feel of the $100 bill all of it seemed to dissolve, irrelevant in the face of this utter non-existence. He was a whisper, a flicker, on the edge of fading away forever.
Then, just as suddenly, there was a jolt. A violent, sickening lurch, like being dragged through a narrow, unseen tunnel.
He felt something again – a fleeting, almost forgotten sense of his own form, rapidly reassembling.
Colors, sounds, and sensations crashed back into him with the force of a tidal wave. The pressure returned, but this time it was focused, forcing him back into a consciousness that felt both entirely new and unsettlingly familiar.
His eyelids felt heavy, glued shut, but he fought them, every muscle screaming in protest despite having no memory of exertion. A cacophony of sound assaulted him: the clash of steel, the guttural roar of a man, the high-pitched shriek of terror. The smell of coppery blood and damp earth filled his nostrils.
With a monumental effort, Elias's eyes snapped open.
He wasn't in a hospital. He wasn't back on the construction site.
Instead, his vision was filled with the horrifying sight of a man dressed in armor, drenched head-to-toe in crimson, standing over just a few meters away from him. The man's face was contorted into a monstrous sneer, and he held a glowing, ornate sword that dripped scarlet.
Behind this terrifying figure, huddled against the wall of a intricate looking wall, is a young woman. Her clothes were torn, her black hair disheveled, and her face was a mask of pure, unadulterated fear. Her vibrant, deep violet and amethyst-like eyes, widened and pleading as she whimpered, "No, please! have mercy! I.. don't even know what I did wrong! It was my father's doing right?.... right? so please i beg of you.. spare me!"
"Silence..! you do not deserve such mercy.. die along with your wretched family" those words echoed throughout the room in such menacing fury. The man with the sword raised his weapon, its glow intensifying, clearly preparing for a final, lethal strike.
Elias lay there, sprawled on the damp ground, utterly bewildered, his mind a blank canvas with only the immediate, horrifying tableau burned onto it. He had no context, no memory of how he got here, no idea what to do. He was just there, an uninvited guest, a witness to a brutal scene in a world he didn't recognize with only his bright yellow hard hat and his clothes with him.
Upon being in such a trance, he was suddenly woken up by the desperate scream of the young woman as she screamed in despair towards the man. Elias, regaining his posture, he finally began to process what on earth was going on. He was still confused, but right now, someone was about to be killed. In that moment, his body moved on instinct, in a hurry to try and stop the man.
"STOP!" he shouted, his voice hoarse and unfamiliar in his own ears. He lunged forward, grabbing the man by the arm that held the sword.
The large, blood-soaked man froze. His monstrous sneer faltered, replaced by an expression of pure, bewildered shock. The glowing sword, mid-descent, halted inches from the terrified woman's throat. The woman herself, who had squeezed her eyes shut, slowly opened them, her gaze flicking from the suspended blade to Elias, a flicker of incredulous hope dawning through her fear.
Elias, still gripping the man's surprisingly solid arm, felt a jolt of his own. The man was huge, easily twice Elias's width and radiating an aura of lethal intent. His skin felt like hardened leather, and the grip of his sword arm was like iron. For a split second, a terrifying realization dawned...
What did he just do?-
He had just grabbed a murder-drenched beast with a glowing, deadly sword. His ordinary strength felt pathetic against the sheer, overwhelming power emanating from the man, who now slowly, menacingly, began to turn his head to glare at this unexpected, utterly insignificant interference.