"I'm tired.."
My low voice echoed, accompanied by the sound of tapping the keyboard. It echoed in a small office-like room with the only light source visible being the monitor screen.
Tap Tap Tap
[In accordance with the Bureau of Hunters and Awakeners, the government has not accepted the proposal of Hunter Mia to postpone the making of the S-class weapon. Many backed the hunter but due to the absurdity of the claim of the said Hunter, it was nearly impossible to defend th–
With my tired eyes, I continued to eye the article I was asked to write in place of my sick colleague. It is a very important article that is expected to be published tomorrow morning.
Tap Tap Tap
With my tired hands, I continued to persevere as I eyed the clock on my wall.
11: 25
It was almost midnight and I still haven't finished half of it yet.
I sighed my frustration as I rubbed my eyes, hoping to erase the fatigue that was forcing my eyelids to close.
'Maybe..just a little nap would be..'
I yawned as I slowly rested my head on the table.
'fine...'
I closed my eyes as the sleep overtook my consciousness.
Ambrose Campbell
My name was the only thing my parents gave me before they died. They died by a car accident that happened after they left the hospital with me being just a newborn.
It was a miracle I survived along with my sister who was only nine years old at the time. Even though she was just a child, she protected me. She got out of the destroyed car and endured the pain in her leg; she took me out and walked towards the nearest city to get help.
I don't know if it was exaggerated or not but my aunt had said that my sister, a toddler, carried me to the city for help with a broken leg and fractured wrist. She had said that the crash site was in the middle of a deserted road.
The moment I heard that story, I idolized my sister. I didn't care if the story sounded so unbelievable. Without her, I would have been dead. Without her, I would have died crying in that car along with the bodies of my deceased parents.
As time went on, my love for my sister grew, but so did my passion for writing destruction. Writing calamities, trials, the system of good and evil, and so on.
Now, believe me, when I say this, it is almost unlikely for me to like these kinds of stuff. Gore and all, but for some odd fate, I saw a particular book at the library one day when my sister took me there; after I read it, I developed a liking for it at first.
My sister noticed I like the genre of action and dystopia and supported my passion. The said passion turned into obsession within 2 years. By the time I was thirteen, my whole room was already covered with characters and towers. By the age of fifteen, my walls became the sacrifice for my imagination.
Towers.
Awakeners.
Hunters.
Heroes.
Unlike my familial love for my sister, towards my creations, I became obsessed.
I created different types of towers and trials. Different heroes with the typical sad backstory. For five years, since I was 11, I focused most of my attention on creating the perfect calamity for humanity.
I was lonely at school but I didn't care. As long as I have my sister and creations, I thought I would be fine.
I was right; I was fine, so what if my room looked like a cult member's dorm room?
It was until the real calamity struck. I lost everything. Seven years ago, now a faint memory, but it still has the biggest place in my mind. Constantly haunting me with no rest. Reminding me that my past can never be abandoned or forgotten.
After all, I was the cause of it all.
"–y wa–"
Is someone calling me?
"–ey wake up! Can you hear me?"
I jumped up as I awoke. I whipped my head behind me and there I saw my colleague who was said to be sick yesterday. The one who was supposed to be writing the article.
Wait.
"Ah, shit. The article–"
"Ah, I already finished it; I felt guilty seeing you here sleeping, trying to finish my work. I'm sorry by the way."
My coworker spoke in a soft voice, and I flinched. I slowly looked at my monitor as the finished article was on the screen.
I looked back and there I saw a short woman in her formal attire. Her brunette hair was held neatly by a hair tie.
' Sofia Anderson '
She was from another department before but she was transferred here for some unknown reason. Rumors say that she had found someone she fancied in this lowly department. That sounded like a lie even a kid could discern because the woman in front of him right now looks rather dignified like a noble. Moving on.
Sofia was said to be a B-rank mage. A very valuable personnel of this organization.
"Uh.. I apologize again for the extra work I accidentally gave you. Ambrose? I hope you don't mind me calling you that, you can call me Sophia or Sophie if you like as well."
I snapped out of my thoughts as she spoke. I stammered a reply, hoping she wouldn't see through my embarrassment.
"Ah.. yes. Yes, it's fine. Uh Sophia, I'm just glad that the article was finished, do- don't worry, I accept your apology."
I nailed that.
Sophia looked at me and smiled, the same smile she would give to everyone in this department.
"I'm glad, why don't you go home for now? Don't worry, I'll handle your work; consider this an apology gift from me."
"Ah no, no need, I think I can manage–"
"Don't tell me you're planning on working when you didn't have dinner last night? Breakfast as well. It's already nine, and you're so thin, you really need to eat more."
I flinched at her mom-like tone, I definitely felt like a child being scolded. Although she was right, I hadn't had dinner last night and breakfast this morning. I could already feel my stomach looking for food to digest.
But even though, for me to just leave like that, leaving all my work–
"Whatever you are thinking now, stop that; I think I can handle a few worksheets from yours to fill for today; plus, I can also just ask for other coworkers."
"I–"
"Come on now, don't worry, I'll personally talk to the manager myself if you're so worried about the consequences of being absent. I'll just say you have a fever. Just trust me."
"But still–"
Sophia shushed me she patted my shoulder.
"No buts. You're practically skin and bones, overworking and starving yourself is something you should do less. If possible, don't even think of doing it."
She smiled softly and of how she puts it, I didn't have any reason to refuse. Fatigued and already starving, I simply nodded.
"Good." She said as she helped me clean up my desk. After that, I went home.
Oh, how I wished I refuted her back then if I had known that going to my small apartment was a very, very bad idea.