The streets of Algoria buzz with life—promoters calling out deals, food stand owners flipping meals, and crowds weaving through the organized chaos.
Amidst it all, two boys walk side by side, lost in their own world.
"You know," Apollo suddenly says, breaking the silence, "I want to be the guardian of this city one day. No matter the status or race, rich or poor—I want to be the one people rely on when they need a savior."
"Like a knight?" Amari asks, raising an eyebrow. He then gives Apollo a playful look. "You're nothing like a knight."
"Didn't ask for your opinion, jerk."
Amari smirks. "You're more like a superhero."
"Isn't that the same thing?" Apollo scoffs.
"Not really. I've always thought knights fight for the king and queen more than for the people, while superheroes fight for everyone, no matter their status."
"Idiot, they're basically the same thing. They both look badass while taking down bad guys," Apollo retorts, striking a dramatic superhero pose.
Amari chuckles.
Apollo then motions toward a different street, signaling that he's heading in another direction. The boys exchange their usual handshake—a routine farewell.
"See you later?" Apollo asks.
Amari nods, turning toward his own path.
As Amari walks through the bustling business district, he marvels at the vibrance around him. It's peak trading hours, with negotiations between merchants and customers happening left and right.
He admires how the city feels alive—children laughing as they play, couples enjoying elegant dinners, drunkards celebrating life with song and dance. Gamblers yell at each other with unmatched intensity, while business professionals converse with practiced composure.
The glow of storefronts illuminates the streets, not just advertising their wares, but breathing life into Algoria's atmosphere.
This never fails to captivate Amari.
He grins. "This city… it's just beautiful," he murmurs to himself.
But his stroll soon leads him toward a small bridge, marking the boundary between two vastly different worlds.
Hillside Valley.
This part of town contradicts everything he just admired.
Crossing the bridge, the city lights fade behind him, swallowed by the gloom of the valley. The air carries a stench of rot, the sidewalks littered with dead rats and addicts slumped against buildings, reeking of drainage and regret.
As he walks, he passes two men locked in a violent brawl over a dose of Virgo—an energy-enhancing drug notorious for its addictive properties. Their punches land hard, yet neither seems to register the pain.
Further down the road, a young woman lies motionless in the middle of the street. Whether she's asleep, unconscious, or worse, Amari doesn't know.
Finally, he reaches his destination—a secluded spot, hidden behind large trees near a slow river stream. This peaceful area offers a rare escape from the harsh reality of Hillside Valley. The soothing sound of the flowing water and the crisp scent of the trees give him a moment to imagine he belongs to the other side of the city—the good side.
He stops at a massive tree trunk marked with the carved initials: C.A.A.—Conrad, Apollo, and Amari.
With ease, he climbs up, entering his treehouse.
Kicking off his shoes, he flicks on the lights using one of his artifacts, then pushes open the rooftop hatch. He lies back, staring up at the endless stretch of stars.
Moments later, a familiar whistle reaches his ears.
Stretching his neck out the window, he sees Apollo below, arms outstretched, food containers clutched in both hands.
Amari throws down the rope.
Apollo, hands occupied, clamps the rope between his legs, awkwardly hoisting himself up. He struggles, but eventually makes it into the treehouse.
Amari barely notices, busy tidying up the small space.
Apollo sighs dramatically, tossing the food onto the table. "Would've appreciated some help, you know."
"Sorry, I was cleaning up."
Without warning, Apollo smacks him on the head.
"Ow!"
Before Amari can retaliate, a voice interrupts them.
"YO!"
The two turn their heads—Conrad hovers in mid-air on some kind of flying device.
They blink, utterly baffled.
"Oh, this?" Conrad grins. "It's an Artificial Artifact still in development. Stole it to try it out."
Amari and Apollo exchange a look before shrugging it off.
"The weather's nice," Conrad says. "Let's eat by the riverbank."
The boys agree, gathering their food and heading toward the water's edge.
Settling on a blanket Conrad brought, they dig into their meals in quiet satisfaction—murmurs of approval and exaggerated chewing filling the space.
Then, out of nowhere—
"Guys, I think I like Miss Laurant."
Apollo and Amari freeze mid-bite.
Slowly, they turn to Conrad.
"...Okay?" they say in unison.
"I've been holding it in for way too long. I love her, okay!" Conrad declares dramatically.
Apollo squints. "You do realize you're twelve, right?"
"You don't have to remind me!"
"So, what exactly are you gonna do about it?" Amari asks casually.
"What the—what do you mean 'do about it'?!"
"I dunno, confess?" Amari shrugs.
"Are you insane?! No! I just wanted to tell you guys so we can take it to the grave." Conrad huffs, then eyes Apollo. "Which teacher do you have a crush on?"
Apollo freezes.
"C'mon, don't act like you've never had a crush on a teacher or someone older."
"No. Nope. Never. Weirdo."
"I always thought Aunt Dahlila was kinda cool," Amari chimes in.
"Who now?" Conrad asks, confused.
"The granny who cleans at school."
Conrad stares. "...Okay, wasn't expecting that."
"Yeah, her."
"You like her?!" Conrad blinks. "Well… okay! Didn't think you'd go for someone that old, but hey, a man has his tastes."
Apollo sighs heavily. "Amari. You need help."
"Why? She's nice. She teaches me stuff about the country, treats me well... she's like my real aunt, you know?"
"Oh? It's like that?" Conrad grins.
The boys burst into laughter, shaking their heads as they return to their food.
Amari gazes at them—his best friends, his family.
This moment? This is everything to him.