The morning sun streamed through the blinds, bathing Elias’s apartment in golden light. He sat at his kitchen table, staring blankly at the steaming mug of coffee in front of him. The remnants of the dream still lingered in his mind—the glowing expanse, the crystalline ground, and Charlie, or at least, the thing that looked like Charlie.

“You’re more capable than you realize,” the being had said.

Elias let out a shaky breath, rubbing his temples. The dream had felt so real, too vivid to dismiss as a product of his overworked mind. And yet, here he was, sitting in his familiar kitchen, with no sign of the crystalline chaos that had become his new reality. His hand was smooth and unmarked. The bag of cash on the counter was the only tangible evidence that his life had taken a turn for the bizarre.

This is normal. I can do normal, he thought, trying to ground himself. He picked up the mug and took a sip, the bitter warmth anchoring him for a moment.

But as much as he wanted to pretend otherwise, nothing about his life was normal anymore.

The day dragged on in a haze of half-hearted attempts to distract himself. He opened his laptop and tried to work on a new architectural mockup, but the lines and shapes on the screen refused to make sense. Every time he looked at the clean, precise designs, his mind flashed back to the chaotic beauty of the crystalline patterns in his dream.

Frustrated, Elias closed the laptop and leaned back in his chair. His apartment felt too small, the walls pressing in on him. He needed to get out, to breathe, to think.

Grabbing his jacket, he headed out the door, not entirely sure where he was going but needing to move.

The streets were bustling with late-afternoon energy, people hurrying to and fro with purpose. Elias walked aimlessly, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his mind replaying fragments of the dream.

The artifact has chosen you… creation or destruction… the choice is yours.

What did that even mean? He didn’t feel chosen. If anything, he felt trapped—an unwilling participant in something far bigger than himself. The memory of the rift, the Axiom agents, and the crystalline being haunted him, each piece of the puzzle more bewildering than the last.

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He found himself near the park again, the familiar sight of the fountain drawing him in. He sat on a bench, watching the water cascade in rhythmic patterns. For a moment, the sound was soothing, the motion hypnotic.

But the questions wouldn’t stop.

Why him? Why now? And what was he supposed to do with this… thing inside him?

Elias wandered into a small cafe he hadn’t been to before, the warm scent of coffee and pastries enveloping him as he stepped inside. He ordered a drink and found a seat near the window, pulling out his laptop again in a half-hearted attempt to work.

The soft clinking of cups and the quiet hum of conversation around him provided a comforting background noise. For the first time all day, he felt a faint sense of calm.

That was when the door opened, and a man walked in, his briefcase clutched tightly as if it were a lifeline. Elias barely noticed him at first, until the man glanced around nervously and took a seat near the counter. He ordered a coffee, his voice low and hurried, and Elias’s instincts prickled. The man didn’t look dangerous, but there was something about the way he carried himself—furtive, anxious, like he was being watched.

Elias tried to shake the feeling, focusing back on his screen, but his gaze kept drifting to the man. He seemed out of place, his suit slightly rumpled, his fingers drumming erratically on the counter.

And then, as if sensing Elias’s attention, the man turned. Their eyes met for a brief moment, and Elias felt a strange chill run through him. The man’s gaze was sharp, probing, but not hostile. It was almost as if he was sizing Elias up, deciding something.

Before Elias could react, the man broke the eye contact, grabbed his coffee, and hurried out the door without another word. Elias frowned, his mind buzzing with questions. Who was that? And why did it feel like their brief interaction meant something?

He shook his head, forcing himself back to his laptop. Don’t overthink it. Just some guy.

But the feeling lingered, gnawing at the edges of his thoughts.

By the time Elias returned to his apartment, the sun was dipping below the horizon, casting the city in hues of orange and pink. He tossed his jacket onto the couch and slumped into a chair, staring at the bag of cash still sitting on the counter.

Fifty thousand dollars. It was enough to pay off debts, get a decent start on something new, maybe even disappear if he wanted to. But it came with a price he hadn’t yet fully understood.

The dream flickered in his mind again, the crystalline being’s words resonating in the quiet of his apartment. Creation or destruction. The choice is yours.

“What choice?” Elias muttered aloud, his voice echoing faintly. “I didn’t ask for this.”

But as he stared at his empty palm, smooth and unblemished, he couldn’t shake the feeling that the artifact wasn’t finished with him. The quiet peace he’d felt earlier was gone, replaced by a restless unease.

He sighed, leaning back in the chair and closing his eyes. For now, all he could do was wait. But deep down, he knew that whatever the artifact had started, it was far from over.