Lights flickered overhead as Jake Morrison stared at his computer screen. Twenty-nine years old, receding hair-line, and a dead-end job in a dying company. This was his life.
"Morrison. My office. Now."
Jake's stomach dropped at Mr. Hendricks' tone. His manager never sounded like that unless someone was getting fired. He glanced around, but his coworkers suddenly found their monitors fascinating. That was when he knew.
The walk to Hendricks' office felt like a death march.
"Close the door," Hendricks said, not looking up.
"I'll cut to the chase. We're letting you go."
"What? Why? I've never missed a deadline—"
"Company's downsizing. Nothing personal."
Hendricks finally looked at him with all the warmth of a brick wall. "We need exceptional people and you? You're just... adequate."
Adequate. The word hit harder than it should have. Because it was true. Jake had never been exceptional at anything. Average grades. Average looks. Average life. He was a background character in his own story.
"You'll get two weeks severance pay, Clean out your desk by end of day."
Jake stumbled back to his cubicle in a daze. Four years of his life fit into one cardboard box. A coffee mug. A dying plant. Some pens. Was this really all he had?
His phone buzzed. Finally, a message from Lisa. His heart jumped, maybe she'd been busy, maybe she wanted dinner tonight—
We need to talk. I don't think this is working out. You're nice, Jake, but I need someone with more ambition. Someone going places. I'm sorry.
Dumped. Via text. On the same day he got fired.
Jake wanted to scream. Instead, he just stood there, holding his box of meaningless possessions, trying not to cry in front of everyone.
"Tough break, man," Kevin from the next cubicle muttered, not even looking up.
Jake didn't respond. He just walked out into the Seattle rain, because of course it was raining.
.
.
.
His mother called as he waited for the bus, his cardboard box disintegrating in his arms.
"Jacob, sweetie, I was wondering if you'd thought about going back to school—"
"Mom, I just got fired."
Silence....."Oh, honey. Maybe this is a sign. You could move back home—"
"I'm not moving back home. I'll figure it out."
"You always say that, but Jake, you're not getting any younger. I'd like grandchildren before—"
He hung up. He'd feel guilty later, but right now he couldn't handle her disappointed concern on top of everything else.
By the time he reached his tiny studio apartment, Jake was soaked, defeated, and wondering when his life had become such a disaster. He dropped the soggy box on his couch and just stood there, dripping on the cheap carpet floor.
He should update his resume. Start job hunting. Call Lisa back and... what? Beg?
Instead, Jake found himself walking out of his room. No destination, just moving to escape that depressing apartment. The rain had slowed to a drizzle, and the Seattle streets gleamed under the streetlights.
He wandered through Pike Place Market, past closed shops and restaurants he couldn't afford. His feet carried him down a narrow side street that he didn't recognize.
That's when he saw it.
A shop wedged between a closed bookstore and what looked like a condemned building. The sign read "Curios & Antiquities" in faded gold letters. Warm light spilled from the window, and something about
it drew him in.
A bell rang as he entered. The shop smelled like dust and incense, crammed with random objects; old books, strange statues, jewelry,things he couldn't identify. A fake crow watched him from atop a bookshelf.
"Welcome, welcome," said a voice from somewhere in the back. "Everything chooses its owner, not the other way around."
Jake couldn't see the shopkeeper. He almost left, but something caught his eye, a soft blue-white glow pulsing from near the back.
He pushed aside some books and found a pendant. A Silver chain, crystal centerpiece that seemed to contain a swirling light within It. It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, and looking at it made his chest feel
warm.
He reached out without thinking.
And The world exploded in light.
Jake gasped, stumbling backward, but the pendant was somehow in his hand now. The glow intensified, becoming almost blinding, and Jake felt something surge through him...
Then it stopped. The light faded and The pendant looked ordinary now.
"What the hell was that?" he whispered.
The shop was silent. Empty. Jake looked around, but he seemed to be alone. Where was the shopkeeper?
He walked to the counter. No one there. Just a small card: "Take what chooses you. Payment will be rendered in time."
"Weird"
Jake pocketed the pendant and walked out. When he looked back, the shop was dark, the sign barely visible. Had it been open at all?
He shook his head. Long day. Terrible day. He was probably hallucinating from stress.
As he walked home, the pendant warm against his chest where he'd hung it, Jake had no idea his worst day was about to become the first day of something extraordinary