Isaiah found himself on a fractured stone path, his sneakers grinding against glass and bone. His chest tightened as his gaze fell upon ruins: a human city reduced to rubble, its skyscrapers—eerily reminiscent of his campus skyline—gutted and glowing with a sickly aetheric light. To his left, an alien landscape sprawled, strange in shape, its crystalline spires shattered, their fragments hovering in defiance of gravity.To his right a holographic sphere floated on air. It seemed to be a portal, and from it, wailing voices emanated."You let this happen," he heard a voice say, and his eyes immediately fell to searching for the source through a fog of mist, dust, and aether. The air pressed against his chest, and he almost lost his breath when he saw through the fog chains—massive, aether-forged shackles etched with glowing sigils—binding countless captives along the path in a line of misery.He saw them, humans in tattered clothing, alien-like beings, and many kinds of creatures he co

In his mind, Isaiah had largely discarded any thought about how the dream could be real. As the elevator hummed a soothing hum, he could only think that at best the dream could showcase deep fears about how he would not be strong enough to overcome the challenges that come with inheriting a large empire like what he was inheriting from his father. His psychology professor at BZU had said that emotions, fears, and desires that were repressed and stopped from expressing themselves in their fullness, for whatever reason, whether it was for the ultimate good, were going to sprout up later in life, sometimes as dreams, other times as unconscious behaviors."I see." He placed his hand on the wall of the moving elevator. "That must be what it is. Who would have known psychology would ever become handy like this?" But then, a thought occurred to him.'What if I become irredeemably evil?' A number of historical villains flashed across his mind. Mao Zedong, Adolph Hitler, Joseph Stalin. "I don

"I don't believe this," James snarled. "I don't believe it at all. You must have had everyone fooled, Isaiah. But you can't deceive me. I know what you are, and what you are is broke. I can swear right now that you're impersonating."It was clear to Isaiah that James was merely pretending. He was the one who had been impersonating being a rich kid but was actually not.At this time, Bri had had enough of it. She took out her phone, a resolve showing in her eyes. "Look, James. Look. This is the email the manager, Madame Kristine, sent me yesterday. Look there. That's his face right there."James looked at it, eyes still seeking not to see what was actually before him. But he saw on the phone an email with a document, right from the manager. Kristine. The air in James’ throat seemed to seize moving. He looked at Isaiah. Perhaps he really was the boss, he thought. James stumbled back, almost taking with him to the floor his cousin's phone."What's going on?" He said, voice shaking as he

Walter and his sister entered the hallway of FrontView Talent Agency building. One of the workers was just about walking past them, tending to their own business, when Walter, in his typical brusque manner, said, "Hey you, where is your boss?" The worker froze in her steps, shaken by the brazenness of the guy in front of her."Umm, are you deaf or something?" Monica snapped. "Where is the new boss? We want to see him. We have important business with him. Don't you recognize me?""He just came in and he is busy," a voice from the corner said. The receptionist. She had a dull, lazy face.The siblings marched towards her. "We need to have a chat with him!" Monica said, placing her nails like a demon-possessed cat over the counter. "I want to renew my contract now."The receptionist was calm, looking at the siblings as though she was seeing through them. "I just told you he is busy. Do well to find a seat. You can stay there and wait for him while he comes down. And there is also someone

Isaiah could not breathe for more than two seconds. The world, it seemed to him, was about to collapse on his head. He did not even have the words to say to the so-called kidnapper who had Jenny. Everything happened as though he were watching a movie on television."Hey, isn't that Fetch-boy?" He heard a student whisper to another student as they passed by him. "Why is he standing like that?""Shh..." The other student, almost in an admonishing sense, said, "We don't call him that anymore, don't you know? Do you want to be punished?"He looked at the students and they turned their eyes away, as if they had not been saying anything about him."What the hell is going on?" Isaiah finally said when he found his words. "What just happened?"He asked as if he was expecting answers to be said to him as he asked them. When he got no answers, he began feeling heavily guilty for everything that had happened.Images from the dream appeared right in his mind's eye again. He held his head and ruff