"WAKE UP, DIANA!"
A loud yell echoed through the house, startling the young woman out of her deep sleep.
Diana's eyes snapped open, her heart racing as she sat up, tangled in her blankets. "Wha—what's happening?!" she blurted out, looking around frantically.
Standing in the doorway, arms crossed and eyes narrowed, was her mother. A woman in her late 700s, still as sharp and intimidating as ever.
Diana let out a sigh of relief when she realized it wasn't some kind of emergency. "Ugh, Mom, why are you yelling so early in the morning?" she groaned, rubbing her eyes.
Her mother huffed. "Because I'm tired of watching you sleep all day!" she said, walking into the room. "At this rate, you'll turn into that blue raccoon you keep watching all the time."
Diana blinked. "You mean Doraemon?"
"Yes, that thing!"
"He's not a raccoon, Mom. He's a cat robot," Diana corrected.
Her mother waved her hand dismissively. "Whatever he is, you're getting too lazy. You're already over 100 years old, and you're still lazing around! When are you going to start working?!"
Diana groaned. "Mom, I am looking for a job. You know it takes time!"
"You've been saying that for years," her mother shot back. "I paid for all those animation classes, and yet you're just sitting here, doing nothing with them!"
"I—!" Diana started, but her mother cut her off.
"I'm giving you one month, Diana," she said, her voice firm. "If you don't find a job by then, I'll enroll you in Explorer School. Your father will personally make sure you attend."
Diana froze.
"Mom, no! You know I don't want to do that!" she protested. "I want to be an animator, not fly around space cataloging planets!"
"Then prove it," her mother replied, her voice softer but still firm. She raised her hardlight tablet, tapped a few times, and then sent something to Diana's device.
Diana glanced at her floating screen as a job listing appeared.
Vault Studios – Hiring Animators!
Her eyes widened.
"You're always talking about this studio," her mother said. "Apply. Now."
Diana gasped, suddenly wide awake. "Oh my god, Mom! Thank you! I LOVE YOU!" she shouted, jumping off her bed and hugging her mother.
Her mother sighed, patting Diana's head. "Just don't waste this opportunity," she muttered before walking out of the room.
Diana collapsed back onto her bed, staring at the job listing with pure excitement.
She had been watching Vault Studios closely ever since they released Doraemon: Stand by Me.
The movie had become her favorite, and she had replayed the series episodes multiple times, waiting eagerly for updates. Even though she knew the release schedule, she still checked their page every single day, hoping for a surprise update.
Now, the chance to work there was right in front of her.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she opened her pre-prepared application and uploaded it to the job posting.
She stared at the screen for a moment before finally pressing submit.
Now… she could only wait.
Meanwhile, in Another Part of the Galaxy…
Far from Diana's home, another young man had just finished packing his belongings into his new living space.
His name was Eden, an 85-year-old who had just moved out of his parents' house.
The reason? A huge argument with his father.
His father, a well-respected space explorer, had always expected him to follow in his footsteps. But Eden had no interest in exploring space—his heart had always been in entertainment.
Movies. Animation. Filmmaking.
Ever since he was a child, he had been obsessed with how films were made. While others watched for the story, he was more fascinated by the process—the animations, the directing, the sound design.
His father had never supported this passion.
So, the moment he turned 85, he packed his bags and left.
Now, living in a government-provided apartment, he was actively searching for a job in animation.
That's when a friend messaged him.
[Dude, Vault Studios is hiring. You better apply.]
Eden froze.
Vault Studios… the same studio behind Doraemon?
As an animator himself, he had been blown away by the quality of the show. The art, the fluidity, the expressions—it was all incredibly well-done.
Without hesitation, he opened the job listing and applied.
Now… it was time to wait and hope.
Back at Vault Studios…
While thousands of applicants were eagerly submitting their applications, the person who started it all was doing… absolutely nothing.
Arwin was snoring on his couch, enjoying his well-earned nap, while Leah handled sorting through the flood of applications.
But soon enough, he stirred awake, stretching as he yawned. "Leah… any applicants yet?"
Leah's voice responded immediately. "There are currently 7,482 applicants."
Arwin nearly choked. "WHAT?!"
"After filtering by skills, experience, and relevance, I have narrowed the list down to 38 individuals who meet the requirements," Leah continued. "All of them are newcomers to the industry, meaning their salary expectations will not be too high."
Arwin let out a whistle. "Damn, Leah, you work fast."
"I am designed for efficiency," Leah replied simply.
Arwin scratched his chin. "Alright… do we interview them or…?"
He thought about it for a second before shaking his head.
"Nope. I have no idea how to do an interview."
Instead, he came up with a different plan.
"Leah, what if we give them a test?"
Leah's holographic form blinked. "Define 'test'."
Arwin sat up. "We give them a scenario, ask them to create a five-minute animated clip, and then pick the best ones."
Leah processed the request. "That is a reasonable method for skill evaluation."
"Great," Arwin said, rubbing his hands together. "Let's set it up. I'll come up with seven different scenarios, and we'll randomly assign them to the applicants."
"As you wish," Leah said.
Within a few minutes, Arwin had written down seven unique short-story concepts for them to animate.
"Leah, also send them character files for Doraemon and his friends, plus backgrounds and assets," he added. "But make sure they sign a digital contract stating that these assets cannot be used for anything outside of this test. If they try to steal them, I want to be notified immediately."
"Understood," Leah confirmed. "I will attach a contract file with an automatic security protocol."
"Good. Send it out," Arwin said, stretching again.
"Sent," Leah confirmed a moment later. "They have one week to submit their animations."
Arwin exhaled, leaning back. "Great. Now, while they work on that… I have some scripts to copy down."
He pulled up his cheat system, scrolling through Doraemon's episode list.
He needed to write everything out manually, converting it into a format his future employees could use.
Oh, and there was one more thing.
He had already sent a positive reply to FAMD about joining the new film project.
Now, all he had to do was wait for them to send him the theme.
"Please, anything but space," he muttered.
Fantasy or romance—that's what he wanted. Maybe Harry Potter. Maybe Titanic.
Just… no more space movies.
Sighing, he got back to work.