Tick-tock.
The sound of the pendulum echoed through the room, counting off the morning moments. Outside the window, the first rays of sunlight pierced through the dense clouds, bathing the streets in a soft golden glow.
Renvel slowly opened his eyes, still feeling the weight of sleep upon him. The cold air touched his skin, making him shiver.
«Is it morning already?..» — he wondered, just before he heard the boy's voice:
— Renvel, are you getting up? It's already eight o'clock! You'll be late for work!
He turned his head sharply and saw his younger brother — Santi — holding a battered book in his hands.
— I'm coming... No need to shout. — he muttered, reluctantly sitting up on the bed.
His feet touched the cold wooden floor, and he froze for a moment, listening to the sounds of the house. Something clattered in the next room — probably their father setting the kettle on the stove.
Muffled voices and the hum of cars drifted in from outside — the city was waking up.
Stretching, Renvel headed to the washbasin in the next room.
Cold water gushed from the tap and quickly chased away the last traces of sleep from his face.
In the reflection of the metal mirror mounted just above, he saw his familiar face: fair skin, light blond hair, and blue eyes. His face looked young and lean.
While brushing his teeth, he heard Santi's irritated voice:
— If you don't hurry up, you'll definitely be late! — he huffed, leaning against the doorframe.
— I'm not late... — Renvel shot him an annoyed look. — Why are you all dressed up?
— Going to the library. — Santi replied emotionlessly.
Renvel nodded.
Santi had always been a bookworm. Sometimes it seemed books were closer to him than people — even his own brother.
Finishing his morning routine, the two of them headed to the dining room for breakfast.
Their father was already seated at the table, reading the morning newspaper. Donald, as always, looked impeccable: dark suit, perfectly combed hair, and a stern, cold gaze.
— You're up? — he asked without looking up.
— Yes. — Renvel answered shortly and sat down at the table.
Breakfast was simple: bread, butter, and strong tea. The house smelled of wood and a faint smokiness from the stove.
— Today we have a test launch of the new engine. — Renvel said, trying to make conversation.
Donald nodded. He rarely asked about his son's work but always listened carefully.
— Be careful. — he said, eyes still on the paper.
Renvel smiled faintly.
===
The city air was thick with the scents of oil, steam, and metal. Tall buildings with copper pipes towered over the streets, and lazy airships drifted across the sky, casting long shadows on the ground.
He walked to the workshop, enjoying the morning hustle.
People bustled about, mechanics tinkered with steam machines, and merchants called out to passersby.
Working with airships wasn't easy, but Renvel liked it. He had graduated from the University of Steam Engineering three years ago and had worked at Air Technical Maintenance — Seon ever since. Today was an important day — the test of a new engine.
Climbing the metal stairs, he stepped inside.
— Renvel! Late again. Move it — we've waited six months for this day! — came a hoarse voice.
He turned around. Gredorik, his boss, stood at the workbench, arms crossed.
— Two minutes isn't a crime. — Renvel smirked.
— Crime or not, it's still a fact—you're late. Go change, quick!
Renvel nodded and hurried to change.
===
Inside, the usual chaos reigned: mechanics scurried about, the air filled with the clatter of tools and the sharp smell of oil.
At the center of the workshop stood a massive engine, its surface covered in a complex web of pipes and wires.
— Ready? — one of his colleagues asked, securing the last components.
Renvel nodded and stepped up to the control panel.
Launching machines like this was always risky — but that was part of the thrill.
Under his fingers, the mechanism came to life. Gears began to turn, steam hissed from the valves, and the engine started to build momentum.
And then everything went wrong.
A sudden screech of metal, a sharp crack — like glass shattering. The air filled with the acrid stench of burning.
— Shut it down! Hurry! — someone shouted.
But it was already too late.
A flash of white light engulfed everything.
Pain.
Darkness.