"It's the end of the world!" yelled the street preacher.
The bustling streets of Manhattan thrive, the fog is dense, and there's tension in the air; passersby either ignore the doomsayers or glance nervously, not because some unhinged men in rugged suits belch from the depths of their souls, but because these days, even scientists agree with the theologians…
"It's the end of the world," yelled the doomsayer.
Shae Alexander zoomed through the crowded streets, pressing toward his destination. Puddles on the concrete floor reflect the inescapable gaze. He glances up at the sky, at the pit of darkness where the Sun used to be. The sky was perpetually clouded with the dim glow of the PeraSol, casting a muted shadow over everything.
"It's the end of the world!" yelled another.
As Shae follows, "We just don't know when..."
***
The smell of coffee lingered in the loft. Mismatched mugs hung above the stove. Light beams through the windows, yet not as bright as the twinkle in Nathaniel Alexander's eye.
"The sky was once freckled with stars, my boy!" yelled Nathaniel.
He stood in the kitchen, waving a spoon like a rapier.
Shae leaned in the doorway in his delivery suit, one boot half-zipped. He yawned.
"Your stories are getting old, Dad."
"You used to love them!"
Nathan handed him a mug, grinning. "Ready for a day's work?"
Shae shook his head, his eyes drifting upward. "Dad… I'm eighteen."
He looked away. "You think I still believe that?"
"Of course you should!"
The microwave beeped.
Nathan scurried to the counter.
"Your dad's right, though," came a voice from the other room.
Shae raised his mug toward the dispatch door. "I know that much. But what about that other crap?" He narrowed his eyes. "Yeah, the stars lit up the sky, sure, everyone knows that, but—"
"Exactly!" yelled Nathan. "One day, the stars vanished! But that will all be fixed!"
"Here we go…" Shae muttered
"What? That's what they told me!"
Elly popped her head in from the dispatch room. "You two done with the alien conspiracies? Some of us are trying to route deliveries."
"Exactly!" said Nathan.
"Exactly what?"
Shae buried his face in his palm. "Now you've done it."
"The Aliens!" Nathan shouted. "The Firebreathers!"
"Dad…listen"
"The Firebreathers will save the world!"
The room fell silent. Elly looked at Shae.
The twinkle in Nathan's eye glowed even brighter. "The day they abducted me —
That's when they told me."
"'DAD!" Shae's voice cracked.
Eyes rolled. He clutched the mug tightly.
"There's no such thing as Firebreathers—Cut it out!"
Elly placed a hand on Shae's shoulder. "Route's already loaded," she whispered, handing him the GPS. "I think it's time to go…"
Shae's eyes blurred, face flushed. "Isn't this why Mom left? How could you forget?"
Elly flinched. Her gaze hardened as it turned to Shae.
Nathan stared at the floor, fist clenched. "I know it's hard for you, for anyone to understand. But one day, you'll all see."
He looks forward, his red eyes juxtaposed with his brimming smile. "When you have unwavering conviction, your world will be against you, but that shouldn't stop you…"
"State your beliefs without hesitation, have faith in a better tomorrow!"
"We can always count on you to be overly optimistic, Dad."
Shae looked away. "But open your eyes… the world's laughing at you."
Shae stepped out the door.
Elly reached out for him.
The twinkle in Nathan's eye went dim.
***
"The Dayheart Engine's output has fluctuated again," said the anchorwoman, "And its luminosity has decreased by sixteen percent…"
"I prefer to call it the PeraSol," said Abdiseus Lopex.
"Sure, but how long do we have before this thing runs out of juice?"
Lopex's smile tightened. "There's no cause for concern," he raised his head high. "The world's top astronomers are tracking every fluctuation, and our engineers are prepped for the forty-sixth expedition to the PeraSol."
***
Moments later, in the private restroom of the Lopex corporation—sleek, modern, lavender-scented—Lopex stared at himself in the mirror.
"Shit, shit shit.."
Perspiration bled down his face.
He glanced at his phone on the counter. Still no answer.
Knock. Knock.
"Sir, is everything okay?"
"Yes, Darlene," he said, rushing to the door. His smile wavered. "Let's continue."
The corridors of Lopex Industries gleamed with brilliance. Glass walls loomed overhead, displaying holograms of engine blueprints, expedition schematics, and ivory pillars etched with corporate crests. Employees in crisp ivory uniforms moved with precision, offering polite nods as he passed by. Their eyes filled with admiration.
The scent of lavender faded, replaced by ozone and sterilized steel. The hum of machines, the subtle thrum of generators beneath the floor, reminded him of everything at stake.
"Turnaround rates have dropped fifty percent since last year," said Darlene.
"Mmhmm," murmured Lopex.
"And profits are at an all-time high."
"Right. Yes."
She glanced at him. "Is everything okay, sir?"
They reached his office. Lopex hung his coat and sank into the chair behind his desk.
"Darlene," Lopex said, straightening his expression. "Have you ever seriously considered the Firebreathers?"
Darlene chuckled, "Is this about Dr. Alexander?"
Static from an intercom interrupts. "Sir, there's a package for you from Galaxy Express."
Lopex froze. His eyes locked on the security monitor beside him. "Darlene. The front desk—look."
"Isn't that Dr. Alexander's boy?" she furrowed her brow.
Lopex jolted forward, slamming the intercom button. "Tell him to come straight to my office!"
***
Shae peeped through the steel doors of Abdiseus's office. The air smelled of lavender and sakura leaves. Tech hummed beneath glass panels. Venetian blinds striped the sunlight across a walnut desk.
Behind it sat a man—pensive, stoic, resolute. His tailored ivory suit reflected the artificial light, and his long ivory hair shimmered in its brilliance. A single katana hung behind him, its edge nearly as sharp as his stare.
"Mister Abdiseus?" Shae asked.
"Please, call me Lopex."
Lopex gestured for him to sit.
Awkward silence. Shae furrowed his brow.
"How's your father?"
Shae's expression turned cold. Lopex raised his brows.
"You know, Nathaniel was one of our best scientists."
"And…you fired him."
"Yes. Right," Lopex said, glancing at the wall behind Shae. "Considering the bad press around your father's downfall—"
"Downfall?" Shae adjusted in his seat. "My mom died in a fire. I wouldn't call that a downfall."
"Yes. My condolences. As always." Lopex raised his chin and straightened.
"With all due respect, Mr. Lopex—"
"Just Lopex,"
"With all due respect, if there's nothing else, I'll—"
"Wait. Please."
Lopex settled deeper into his chair, his voice softened.
"Nathan always was a dreamer. A visionary. And there's more truth to his stories than most people realize."
Shae narrowed his eyes. "Excuse me?"
"Please. Just hear me out."
Lopex leaned forward, lacing his fingers on the desk.
"Do you know the story behind the PeraSol's discovery?"
Shae squinted. "Sure…I guess?"
"Hundreds of years ago, when scientists learned that the Sun was dying out. My great-great-grandfather discovered the DayHeart engine deep underground."
"Yeah? And?"
Lopex's tone tightened as he leaned back in his chair.
"Today, the PeraSol's output is failing—and no one knows why."
"What does that have to do with me?"
"I want your father back on the team."
Lopex exhaled, eyes lifting to the ceiling, steadying himself.
"The PeraSol won't last without his contribution."
Shae shoved back his chair. His voice cracked.
"You fired my dad! You told the press he was unhinged!"
Lopex rose slowly, gaze steady.
"Things are happening in this world—things most people can't, or won't, see."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"Nathan wasn't wrong about everything. He just… made the mistake of being open about it."
"What are you saying?" responded Shae. "You believe that crap about Firebreathers?"
"Belief isn't important. What matters… is awareness."
The hum of tech beneath his desk deepened. The temperature seemed to drop by several degrees.
"When my family discovered the DayHeart engine," Lopex said quietly,
"There was something etched into its shell. In Japanese Kanji, it read: 'A gift from the Firebreathers'"
Shae's breath caught. His heart pounded. His face flushed red.
"...What?"
Lopex stiffened. For a second, his eyes darted past Shae. The steel doors creaked open.
"You didn't mention someone would be joining us," he said.
Shae turned. No one was there.
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"Oh. I see."
"Excuse me?" Shae furrowed his brow. "You waste my time, insult my family—and now you believe the same shit you fired my dad for?"
"Shae—wait."
"Don't fuck with me!" yelled Shae. Storming toward the door.
Lopex glanced over his shoulder. "If you take one thing from this meeting: watch your back, it appears you have eyes on you."
Shae paused by the door. His jaw clenched.
"You sound as crazy as my dad."
He pushed through the doors and left.
Behind him, Lopex remained seated—his eyes fixed on the spot where the unseen presence stood.
"You're an unfamiliar face…"
***
A warm breeze rustled through turning leaves, brushing past Shae's face as he sat at the park's edge.
He hated this place—how it never changed.
Families, friends, laughter along the lakeside trails—none could dull the memory of that day when the breeze smelled like fire.
His eyes lifted to the sky, reimagining that day:
"The sky was once freckled with stars!" yelled Nathaniel.
The leaves spun like golden spirals, the evening sky mute. Not a star in sight.
Young Shae perched on his father's shoulders, his chin resting atop his head.
"Dad, tell me more!"
"The sky was beautiful," said Nathan, lifting his arms toward the sky.
"Groups of stars called constellations guided you through the night!"
"Whoaaa," cried Shae.
Nathan grabbed Shae's knees, bracing him. "But one day, the lights shut off, and the world went dark. Mankind lived underground for years!"
"Dad, not this part."
"Right," said Nathan. "But one day, the Firebreathers abducted me."
"The Aliens?" Shae asked, leaning forward.
"Yes!" Nathan grinned. " They said, 'Our King will return to bring light to mankind!'"
"King Sol will save us?"
"He'll save us all!"
Nathan laughed.
Nathan jogged in circles, Shae bouncing on his shoulders, both of them laughing.
"He'll soar through the sky and plant each star like a seed!"
Their laughter carried into the wind.
A child's laughter echoed across the park.
Shae slowed his pace, cracking a brief smile.
His gaze drifted to the old tree by the lakeside—the same one from that night.
That night came back in pieces.
"Dad, I want to climb the tree," cried a younger Shae.
Nathaniel stopped jogging. His smile faded.
Blaring sirens drowned out Shae's laughter.
"What's that smell?"
The scent hit Nathan first—smoke, faint but rising.
Emergency vehicles tore down the avenue, red lights pulsing across the water—
The day the breeze smelled like fire.
Shae blinked.
The wind passed again, quiet, warm, ordinary.
He clenched his fist. His old home stood in the distance. His eyes welled.
Then came his father's voice again—sharp, alive, as if the flames still burned:
"Where is my wife?" Nathan shouted, trying to push past the responders.
"Sir, we can't let you through," said the firefighter.
Smoke towered into the night, a black pillar swallowing the sky.
Shae's throat tightened. Even now, the smoke lingered behind his eyes.
Voices echoed in his memory—TVs, radios, whispers:
"Renowned astronomer's wife dies in grand arson—suspected suicide."
"Wife burned alive in Central Park Tower fire—Husband claims alien intervention."
"Delusion. Conspiracies. Firebreathers—Widowed husband goes mad."
"Wife commits suicide due to husband's mental decline"
"Lopex Industries sever ties with Nathaniel Alexander."
***
"You always think too loud," said a familiar voice.
Shae didn't turn. "And you always sneak up on me."
The breeze stirred again. Elly slid onto the bench beside him.
"Is this about this morning?"
"I don't want to talk about it."
Silence settled between them. Shae leaned back, lifting his eyes to the sky.
Elly smiled, looking up too.
"They say can't look into the real sun directly…"
She reached out a hand to the sky. The PeraSol hovered distantly above— grand, monumental, framed by clouds as the evening dimmed into dusk.
"Lopex wants my dad to work for him again."
"What?" Elly straightened, "That's great news!"
Shae didn't respond. He kept his gaze on the fading light.
Elly stared at him. The wind pressed stronger.
"Ahhh, you're so boring, Alex!" she yelped.
Shae flinched. "What did you call me?"
Elly smirked.
"I've always liked Alex better."
"Don't call me that," Shae muttered.
"Alex, Alex, Alex," Elly teased, leaning in and flicking his ear. "Who names their son Shae? That's so not manly!"
Shae stood, face flustered.
"What are you trying to say?"
"It's a girl's name!"
"You're dead!" Shae lunged toward her, chasing her around the bench.
"It's not my fault, my dad's a nut!"
"Girly, girly, girly!" Elly laughed. "You can't catch me!"
Shae tackled her into the grass, pinning her in a headlock.
"I've got you now, little boy!"
"Little boy? I'll kill you in your sleep!" Elly shrieked, reversing the grip.
"Now I've got you in a sleeper hold!"
Shae flailed, reaching out dramatically,
"H-help…me…"
Elly released him. Shae gasped for air.
"Y-you almost killed me!"
"I won, punk!" Elly grinned.
They looked at each other—grinning, breathless.
Elly rolled onto the grass, still laughing. Shae brushed himself off and laid back beside her.
"Look," he said. She turned.
He was gazing at the sky, entranced.
"It's amazing, isn't it?"
Silence again.
Shae exhaled slowly.
"You've always been there for me."
Elly smiled. "That's what friends are for."
"No—like, literally."
He sat upright, leaning back on his palms. The grass bent beneath his hands.
"When my mom died…it's like you appeared out of nowhere."
Elly blinked. "Well, yeah. I couldn't let those bullies at school have their way."
"No, Elly. Listen."
Shae met her eyes, catching her before she could look away.
"It's like you're my guardian angel. Always there when I'm down. Always cheering me up."
She laughed nervously. "Okayyy, buddy. That's enough mushy—"
"Elly,"
His voice cut through the breeze.
"I—I love you."
Elly froze.
"Not like—romantically. I mean, maybe."
Shae scratched the back of his head, flustered.
"But I care about you. And I don't think I ever want to live this life without knowing you'll be by my side."
Elly's hands fidgeted. Her eyes welled.
"Shae, I…"
A sudden wail of sirens cut through the park.
Emergency vehicles raced down the avenue, red lights flickering across the water—
Much like that day.
***
The street was dotted with red and blue lights. People gathered staring upward, like ants had found their muse.
The murmuring below grew quiet as he stepped closer to the edge.
The world became incredibly still.
Nathaniel wondered if the wind would embrace his fall. Fourteen stories above the world that mocked him.
He swayed.
He blinked.
He thought of Ava.
He thought of Shae.
His arms opened. His eyes closed.
"Dad!" cried Shae as he slammed open the rooftop doors, legs trembling from the climb.
Nathan didn't turn. "Shae. Leave. I don't want you to see this."
Shae stepped forward. "Dad, please—"
"You were right." Nathan's voice cracked.
"The world's laughing at us. At you…"
He turned slightly—just enough for Shae to see his eyes.
Empty. Broken.
"And it's all because of me."
Nathan continued. "I keep living like nothing ever happened. Smiling. Pretending. Like we never suffered loss."
Shae halted, breath caught. He had never seen his hope shattered. A man filled with charisma despite his shame, always pressing forward—but this time, stepping toward darkness—into an abyss.
Shae's throat tightened. His chest rose with a sharp breath.
"Lopex…wants you back."
Nathan flinched.
"Are you… lying to me?"
"He said he needs you—to learn more from you…"
A beat of stunned silence.
"The firebreathers?" asked Nathan.
Shae nodded. Nathan looked below, past the coping.
"But do you believe it?"
"What?"
Nathan knelt. "Ava—your mother… it didn't ever matter if the world mocked me…She took her life, the woman I loved…because she thought I was crazy…"
"Dad…" muttered Shae.
The whisper of thunder rolled between them. Then the rain fell—
Soft, then suffocating.
Nathan turned his head in tears. "Do you believe me…because all that matters is if the only person I have left, my son, believes I'm not crazy."
"Say it. Tell me I'm not crazy…"
Shae lunged forward. He grabbed his father's wrist and yanked him from the coping—dragging him back onto the rooftop. Shae tumbled toward the ledge and collapsed to his knees, rain streaming down his face. He slumped against the parapet, chest heaving, eyes locked on Nathaniel's.
They lay there in the storm, soaked and silent, staring into each other's sorrow.
"I don't give a damn about firebreathers," Shae said.
He struggled to stand, bracing against the coping to keep from slipping in the rain.
"If I lose you...I lose the only family I have left."
"Shae," Nathan whispered. He fell back, eyes to the sky—letting the rain fall. Letting the shame in.
Then something tore across the rooftop.
A shift in the wind?
Shae's eyes widened.
A force pushed him.
"What—?"
He stumbled—then tumbled—backward over the coping.
"SHAE!" Nathan lunged forward, hand outstretched.
All Shae could see was falling rain… and his father, shrinking, screaming.
**THUMP.**
Silence.
Blackness.
Nathan's hand hovered over the edge—trembling.
***
Amid the street, surrounded by a bewildered crowd, his lifeless body lay upon the cold concrete. His flesh drank in the rainy gloom. Shae Alexander is no more. The police urge the bystanders back—Nathaniel in tears.
Then suddenly, a tear ripped through the fabric of reality. White noise jittered through the air. The rain halted, and time stood still. Out walked a ghastly man from that metaphysical rift.
His body was wrapped in tattered bandages. Neither his eyes, nor his mouth, nor an article of flesh was exposed to the air. Painted on his face covering was the symbol of a black skull.
This mummified man held a quill pen and a black notebook inscribed with the words 'Dead end.'
"Nine thirty-four...prime meridian," he uttered, "April sixteenth, twenty twenty x."
He sauntered forward. Jotting down on his notepad as he spoke.
"Name…Shae Alexander."
"Age…18 years young."
He halted. Looked down at Shae's body.
The somber tears of a woman accompanied the static.
"Cause of death?" He asked.
Her wailing increased, her agony and pain.
"Cause of death?" he asked again with frustration.
There she was. Elly. Hovering above her lifeless friend.
"Gregori—please," she cried.
He sank his face into his palm.
"Cause. Of. Death?"
"I'm sorry," cried Elly.
"I did it again."