Year 2274, The Floating City of Ventara.
The sky was a riddle—serene, vast, unreachable, and cruel. It once whispered of freedom and wonder, only to return with cold indifference.
Amir's gaze drifted upward, tracking a quiet shuttle coasting through the gloom, its lights dim against the brooding sky.
He lowered his eyes to his friend's dingy apartment. Cracks spidered across the concrete walls, and the crooked doorway looked like it might collapse with a strong breeze.
Amir tapped the band on his wrist. A soft blue interface appeared in the air, showing his vitals—all healthy—and the time: 19:42. They were supposed to leave twelve minutes ago. Now, they only had eighteen minutes until closing.
Amir knocked again, sharper this time, though still careful not to splinter the brittle door.
A muffled call of "Coming!" resounded from inside, followed by a series of rushed thumps and clatters. A moment later, the door creaked open, and Jayden tiptoed through, hoping to slip by without getting scolded.
Amir crossed his arms. "You're late."
Jayden froze like a deer in headlights, then offered a sheepish grin. "Hey, it's not every day we set up capsules. Only a week or two left, right?"
The gaming pods the duo installed in their apartments had the worst synchronization rates on the current market. Amir and Jayden wouldn't complain, though. They got them for free.
Jayden's demeanor bubbled with excitement, but he visibly contained it, turning to the skies instead. "Let's move. Looks like it's about to rain."
Amir glanced up. The clouds had darkened to a dull gray. Rain wasn't rare, but he still hated it—especially on his only day off.
"Yeah, let's go."
The two men turned a corner, passing flickering holograms advertising everything from forever-flavored gum to neural sleep enhancers. The ads were bright, and their vibrant hues created a particularly enchanting sight in the growing puddles. It was a surreal scene, too beautiful for the almost empty streets.
Out of all of the advertisements, one stood apart—not just in sheer scale but in tone as well. It was darker. Hungrier. It drew the eye like a drug.
The towering hologram showed a man clad in almost pitch-black full-plated armor, lugging a sword large enough to scrape the ground even while slung across his back. The figure itself was broad and grizzly, his shoulder-length dark hair ragged around scarred skin—proof of many harsh battles fought.
Behind the figure stretched a void that seemed to swallow even the brightest of lights. Beneath, silver text read simply: Where the Worthy Rise.
It was the game society founded itself on. Sky Horizon.
Amir ignored the ads with practiced ease, his eyes steady, while Jayden's head swiveled back and forth, trying to drink in every little detail of the exotic scene.
Their footsteps clicked against the wet concrete, rain hissing softly around them. The street of entertainment was slowly abandoned.
Jayden elbowed him. "You think the capsule will boot early if I lay in it tonight?"
Amir smirked. It was a dumb question. "No shot. Government's too strict about age limits to fall for something like that. Are you really that impatient?"
According to the manual, the capsules would only activate at the exact moment of legal adulthood. Until then, it was just a sleek, high-tech pod gathering dust.
His friend shrugged, vaguely motioning to the enormous ad still faintly visible over the buildings, but Amir understood.
"Don't tell me you believe that nonsense?"
Jayden didn't answer right away. The silence stretched—not awkward, but weighted. When he finally spoke, his voice had lost its usual joking edge.
"I'm tired of scraping by, man. It's like I'm just going through the motions, waiting for something that never comes.." His gaze turned serious, locking onto Amir's. "I wanna do more than just survive. I want to thrive…"
Amir blinked. The words landed heavier than expected. Jayden was the type to laugh through anything, to deflect with sarcasm and smirks. But now, that mask had slipped—just for a second—and something real bled through.
The moment shattered when Jayden slouched over and groaned, "How much longer 'til we reach this stupid place?"
Although caught off guard by the sudden shift, Amir chose to spare him any embarrassment. "I don't know, maybe if we left at the right time, we'd be there already…"
The duo trudged through the street with increasing speed as the time crept closer to 20:00.
After ducking through cracked and dirty alleyways to cut time, Amir and Jayden arrived before a small but well-kept government building: a nutrient center. Inside were two people—a cashier and a messy haired man in an impeccable navy blue suit.
The air smelled of disinfectant and vitamins, a combination so common it had almost become invisible, but there was something else there, too. It was a scent Amir couldn't recognize, clean but unnatural, like the air after lightning. It made the hairs on his neck rise.
The cashier spotted them and raised a single finger—the universal "one moment" gesture— before disappearing into the back. Moments later, she returned carrying a box filled with vials of liquid.
"Here you go, sir. Do you need a bag?"
"No, I have one. Thank you," the man replied, sliding the vials into a sleek, reinforced leather briefcase with practiced ease.
Amir caught a glimpse of the vials before they vanished—they contained green nutrient solution. That was three grades higher than what he and Jayden were about to receive. This guy was somebody important, someone with both money and status.
Someone out of their league.
The man pivoted on his heel and nearly collided with Amir, who stood just behind him in line. He was clearly startled to see anyone else inside the building, but his body, which must've been well-trained, stopped instantly—a sign of great body control.
The man was above average in height; he stood around 190 centimeters, matching Jayden in stature.
He barely reached Amir's shoulder.
A moment passed, and the man stayed in his position, slowly peering up.
Jayden cleared his throat to get his attention. "Sorry for scaring you, man, but can you move?"
The man quickly composed himself, offering a polite nod. "My apologies. I didn't realize anyone else had entered." He ran the hand not carrying the bag through his greying hair, then reached for a handshake.
Blue eyes pierced into the duo as they shook his hand, one after another, Jayden first. The man's grip surprised Amir. "I am Marcus Vance, head security guard at Soteria Labs. Might I ask—what classes would you two happen to be?"
Jayden waved the question off. "We haven't started playing Sky Horizon yet. We picked up our capsules earlier, but they still haven't activated."
Marcus raised an eyebrow, studying Amir a moment longer than necessary. "Is that so? Well, best of luck, then."
He turned to leave—then hesitated. His voice dropped, growing earnest. "Here's a bit of advice from a… well, veteran: don't pick the team tutorial. Oh, and don't rush through the early stages. It's where you establish your foundations."
Marcus patted Amir's shoulder, which slightly shook him, and gazed at Jayden. "I'm looking forward to seeing how far you two go."
Without waiting for a response, Marcus opened the door and left. A low chuckle slipped through the closing door. "What are they feeding kids these days?"
Amir and Jayden stared at each other, bewildered. Only the former, who had seen the color of the man's nutrient serum, caught the irony in Marcus's words.
Still, there was no time to dwell. The clock inched closer and closer to 20:00.
The cashier beckoned the duo forward and pulled out a small scanner.
Jayden pressed his band against the scanner; the device flashed red. Amir followed, and the scanner flashed the same color.
Because of their orphan status, they were at the bottom of society, without even last names to anchor them down. In Ventara, names meant influence, and influence meant resources, protection, and power—things Amir and Jayden had none of.
After verifying their records on an interface, the lady disappeared into the back again, returning quickly with two boxes. Inside flashed a glint of crimson.
The boxes contained the red nutrient solution the duo needed to survive on for the next two weeks. It was slick and cold in Amir's hands, condensation bleeding through the plastic packaging and numbing his fingertips.
The lowest level of nutrient serum was red-colored, and the following grades increased in quality according to the spectrum of the rainbow, with blue as the highest grade possible. There were whispers of purple grade nutrient solution existing, but there had never been confirmation.
Amir clenched his fist. He wouldn't stay at the bottom. Not anymore.
Jayden, unaware of the storm brewing inside him, called out and motioned to leave.
They slipped out of the nutrient center and into the rain-soaked streets, darkness seeping into the last scraps of daylight. The air reeked of rust and wet concrete.
"I dunno what that Marcus guy was talkin' about," Jayden said, kicking a loose pebble across the road. "The team tutorial is supposed to be easier than the solo one, right?"
Amir kept his gaze ahead, eyes narrowed against the wet wind. "I don't know," he replied. "But I trust the guy; he's gotta know something we don't. He works at Soteria Labs, after all."
"Oh, right. They did create some parts of the Sky Horizon, didn't they? That was like a century ago, though, dude. You still think they're important?"
Amir remembered the color of Marcus' nutrients clearly. "Yes, I do. Marcus wouldn't have had green nutrient serum if they weren't."
Jayden paused mid-step, incredulous. "He had green nutrient solution? Holy shit, dude, we just talked to a VIP!"
He scrunched his forehead, as if trying to recreate the encounter in his head, then abruptly held his head in pained anguish. "Wait, I should've gotten his contact number! Why didn't you tell me that earlier?!"
Jayden battered Amir with playful punches and wept tears. They were fake. "I could've been swimming with the big fishes by now! C'mon, bro, why you gotta do me like that!"
Amir didn't budge from the flurry of attacks, merely looking up into the purpling sky. 'If only it were that easy.'
Sky Horizon wasn't just a game to them.
As orphans raised under the government's welfare system, Amir and Jayden had no choice but to participate. A full year of mandatory gameplay—five hours daily—was their ticket to wiping away government debts. Failure meant falling deeper into the hole.
They'd have to support themselves completely during that year.
To prepare, they spent years working—part-time jobs after school, weekends swallowed by warehouse shifts. While other kids wasted time, they built a foundation for their future. The government gave them shelter and daily nutrient rations until eighteen. After that, survival was on them.
Amir had even pushed to graduate early, trading school time for the chance to work and save more. He'd scraped together maybe eight months of living expenses—ten, if he lived like a ghost.
It wasn't much, but it was a start—and it would have to be enough.
In eight days, Jayden would turn 18. Five days later, Amir would follow. Only then could the real journey begin.
When they finally reached Jayden's apartment, his friend peeled away from him and waved back lazily. "Later, bro. Try not to overthink it, alright? Everything's gonna be fine."
Jayden waited for a second, then turned and disappeared into the creaking stairwell of his building. The door squeaked, then clicked shut.
Amir stood alone.
Above him, a curtain of darkness had fallen when he wasn't looking. The streetlights buzzed overhead, the wind tugged at his jacket. The rain had thinned to a mist, cold but no longer harsh.
He tilted his head back, staring past the decay, past the chains that tried to tether him to the bottom.
Resolve surged through him, hot and blinding.
'I'll break free. I'll rise, higher than anyone ever dreamed.'
Nothing would stop him. Not anymore.
Amir walked on, slow and steady, his gaze fixed upward. Whatever waited in the sky, it would meet him soon—because he was coming for it.