Chapter 1 - The End.

Death is overrated.

That’s what Dominic would tell anyone that asked him what his thoughts were on the inevitable end all humans shared. Well, not only humans, of course – everything died after all – but cats and trees were not cursed with the dread of knowing their time on this Earth is limited. Oh no, that’s a burden only humans share.

And yet, it didn’t phase him as much as it should. Or, at least, that’s what Dominic always thought when comparing himself to his friends.

The fear on their part had been gradually getting worse during the past couple of decades. When your social circle ends up with only people in their late sixties, death becomes an unfortunate everyday topic.

The best funerary plan. The most comfortable cemetery. The writing of wills. Have you considered cremation over burial? What kind of coffin do you want to rot in?

It was awful. And, worst of all, it was secretive.

Sons and daughters, if someone were to have them, quite disliked the notion of their parents discussing their eventual demise in the open. So it’s a concern that only bubbles up when they’re with friends that can understand the plight. Sympathize.

It became tiresome to deal with. And he wasn’t even scared of it. Not anymore, at least.

Apathetic was the word. All these concerns people had? Dominic faced it and overcame it more than thirty years ago.

So, indeed, people wasted too much energy worrying about death.

And by that, he meant: what was there to worry about? Better yet, what will worry about death change in one's life?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. So, every time the topic was brought up during the long sessions of wine and gossiping that Dominic and his friends had been doing for years, the elder just ignored it.

Easy peasy. Or at least, it had always been like that.

Squeezing his eyes shut, the memories were forced to fade into the background once again. The spoon with which Dominic had been stirring his coffee froze for a second at the sudden discomfort of the topic, and he could but sigh at the emotional turmoil all this thinking had brought.

And yet… it passed, after a few moments, as all things do.

Focusing back on his job, Dominic fiddled with the pen for a second, the click of the button on top grounding him enough to continue filling the notepad he had placed at his side.

“Everything alright, Mister Jones?”

The waiter beside him asked, hugging the aluminum tray against his torso. With a glance, the way the sweat gathered on his face and the white-knuckled and trembling fingers with which he held the tray jumped in Dominic’s eyes. Apprehension and anxiety were clear for all to see, including the other customers who looked at the scene with curiosity.

The waiter was young – probably early twenties or late teens – but that was also the age of all the employees Dominic had met. Straightening up his back – and feeling the pang of pain the uncomfortable chair had caused – he looked around at one of the new cafés in town; a larger-than-usual shop designed to impress the clients with a more futuristic ambiance.

The place was white and gun-metal gray for most of the part, housing circular tables and chairs shaped like eggshells with the promise of more comfort – though the curvature had been doing a number on his back these past few minutes.

In the lower, central area, one could watch the cooks and bartenders work non-stop. They had built a kind of kiosk in the middle of the floor, serving as what one of the employees had called the “central station of their spaceship”.

It had been hard to take the poor girl seriously with all that silver makeup covering her face – and the chrome jumpsuit she had been wearing – but Dominic tried to withhold judgment. It would be rude to disregard the creativity behind the place only due to his personal preferences.

Nevertheless, while the central area was the lowest part of the store, the place for clients to sit and consume was around all of that. It rose like grandstands – three levels or more of those white tiles connected by short stairs – allowing the clients to see the workers at their jobs like a child would stare at a colony of ants.

Or an emperor watching gladiators.

That’s the comparison Dominic had been making all the while, at least. And it worked better than this whole spaceship idea they had tried to implement. Alien gladiators were much, much more original than this Star Trek bastard son they had tried to make.

He sipped the coffee, tasting the slight bitterness of high-quality beans. Brazilian coffee beans.

Now that was a pleasant surprise. At least the quality of their ingredients followed the high prices on their menu; a characteristic that had become rarer and rarer within these newly opening restaurants and their young owners.

Unfortunately, vibes alone don't turn your products into good ones.

“All fine,” Dominic said, staring at the young man while writing his thoughts on the coffee. “Is the parfait ready?”

“Ah, yes sir. One Gamma Ray Parfait coming right up!”

The waiter made a shaking hand sign that went over the elder’s head and walked down the stairs, talking to one of the staff working at the open kitchen – a girl wearing a gold-colored jumpsuit and a… reimagining of a chef’s hat, also dreadfully golden.

Sighing, Dominic took to the coffee with gusto – noting down the lack of proactiveness from the staff, of course – and turned back to trying to find what had been making this place a new hotspot for the younger generation.

The decoration was scarce – lots of LED lights affixed to the floor and the walls, coupled with metallic panels shaped like a spaceship's interior at places – and there was no art to be found; the food hadn’t been anything spectacular, though they did try hard with the presentation by serving it all in what – if he was being entirely honest – seemed like a stylized-version of a dog bowl, and coloring it in artificial and vibrant neon colors.

Dominic took another sip of the dark liquid and decided to grant it to them – the coffee was good – although the mug was absolutely dreadful, with its larger size and a thicker edge that made it hard to do anything but sip. It was nicely styled though, probably the most artistic thing to be found here, with an outer layer that made it seem to be made from metal scraps.

All in all, he would grant the place a solid 5/10. Nothing spectacular and nothing new; just a futuristic façade over the same mediocre coffee shop experience one could have in any of the other dozen ones on this street.

And it wouldn’t last. With the way it had been designed, Dominic’d grant it a year or two before it closed its doors. Unless it changed, of course, but… that so rarely happened it was better to assume another enterprise would take its place when he returned to San Francisco.

The old man stopped. Suddenly. The fatalist rationalization annoyed him greatly and he could tell it came from all that thinking about death. And his discussion about Martha.

So he remedied it in the best way he could. No time for dark clouds over his sky, oh no.

The line of thought was caged for a moment, as Dominic analyzed it. Yes, it was fatalist. It was borderline nihilistic. And those ideas could not be allowed to fester for too long. Hopelessness was a dangerous poison, and one he did not allow to spread within him.

So he reverted the thought, ripped it to shreds, and sewed it back up again with fake hope as the thread, a series of mental processes that had been used for years already. Distracted, his hands moved to the side and opened the file Dominic had asked for on the owner of Elysium.

Her picture was attached to the file with a paperclip, a profile photo that showed a smiling woman dressed in a suit and with her hair braids in a tall bun. Her amber eyes made for a stark contrast against her dark skin, even if they could only be seen through behind the thick circular glasses she wore.

In the boxes beside it, was all the information he had been given: Imani Soarez. 25 years old. Majored in Business Administration at the University of San Francisco.

She wasn’t first in her class, she developed no great projects during graduation, and she had no big investors even – most of the money to build this café came from loans and her own savings, alongside a generous help from one of her professors.

Dominic drummed his fingers over the length of his wooden cane and thought back on his friend. Armstrong had seen potential in the girl. So where was it? What does she have to convince that old man to invest in her idea?

The elder closed his eyes for a second, moved one of his hands to cover Imani's face, and… changed the picture. Turned it upside down. The sudden change made him look closer than he did before.

So Dominic Jones asked himself again: Where was the potential?

The seam closed with a last stitch, and hope blossomed. Dominic had a story now, and he could see it as clear as day.

A child, blessed with caring parents who were clever enough to dream of sending her to college.

A young woman, working part-time jobs to complement the sacrifice her parents had done for her future.

A professor, watching a struggling student and stopping to listen to her ideas once. Just once. And seeing there was genius behind them all.

Then, a project. A dive into a dreamy future where humanity traveled among the stars. Where we connected with other races and shared our food and our culture and our coffee.

And the execution, never as perfect as she had imagined, never enough to the insatiable mind of an entrepreneur who could see what it should be.

There was a smile on his face now. Dominic could stare at her picture and see the tired laughter of a woman working hard to make a dream come true. And there it was.

Potential.

It mattered not if the story was real. It mattered not if his hope was as unfounded as any delusion.

It. Mattered. Not.

Dominic’s job was to make this wave her business had been blessed with last longer. Make this coffee shop into a place worthy of competing with the larger opponents there were all over the place, and turning it into a stable and long-lasting business.

He just had to ensure this place was worth the effort.

And with his new perspective, Dominic looked again – down into the central area and the kitchen – and watched as previously ignored details now flared with light. Small things became larger, the hidden aspects shining under the blueish LED lights.

First, the employees. All young, bright-eyed, and satisfied. Joking and chatting as they prepared different meals and delivered them to their tables. Snacks with distinct colors and beverages of various sizes came and went with the ever-present smile of the waiters and waitresses.

They shone… figuratively and literally with all the iridescent chrome and silver they wore. And there was more. Each and every one of the jumpsuits had different details.

Personalized. Badges of different colors and designs, different places for pockets, or buttons instead of zippers. Even those working in the kitchen, wearing gold and brass colors, had different hats over their heads, alongside the badges on their jumpsuits.

Someone had taken care to make their employees look unique even in their uniforms.

And there was more. Something Dominic had overlooked with his busy mind and clouded sight – being only able to confirm it due to the high ground he sat at. They were all black and latino.

Some even more than that, if the small and colorful flags in their jumpsuits were any indication. Rainbows of different colors.

Imani had built a haven for her employees. And the clientele she attracted could feel it, even if they couldn’t see it all the time. That’s why young people came, and that’s why it wouldn’t last.

Because she had made it a perfect place to work at, but not that great of a place to go to. Imani needed to transform Elysium into a place worthy of its name. And if she was going to value differences, then she had to go all in.

By the time the parfait came to the table, Dominic had a plan

***

In the end, his meeting with Miss Imani had become a necessity. One that her employees, clever enough as they seemed to sometimes be, had already acted upon. It was almost enough to make him take the ‘lack of proficiency’ out of his notes.

The parfait had been at its end when she arrived, bursting through the front doors and following a quick indication from one of her employees. After she thanked them, the young entrepreneur adjusted her blazer and walked the steps toward Dominic’s table, heels clicking against the tiled floor.

Before she spoke, an amusing thought came to his mind.

“I expected you to walk in character as well, Miss Soarez. A spaceship captain should always be ready for an emergency trip after all.”

The woman’s eyes opened wide for a moment, and he moved to finish the green cream inside the container without a worry about her response, but Imani was quicker. With a slight grin, she bowed to the table and gave a military salute as she rose.

“Apologies Major. Duty calls on other fronts, and diplomacy should not be engaged with our military uniforms.”

Eyebrow raising, Dominic gave her a small laugh and gestured for the opposite seat in front of him.

“Please, Miss Soarez. I appreciate the sense of humor, but I do hope you didn’t cancel something important to greet this old man.”

“Not at all, sir. The person I was with actually canceled our meeting after I said your name. There are few opportunities to meet The Angel after all.”

The title made him smile. Young people could really call you anything nowadays.

Setting the spoon down, he pushed the rest of the parfait forward, watching Imani’s reaction as she saw the unfinished dessert. The woman gulped but said nothing, only calling one of the waiters with a gesture to take it away.

“Coffee, Mister Jones? Unless you have tasted ours already.”

“Only your espresso. And it was impressive, Miss Soarez – but I remember seeing a cappuccino on your menu?”

Imani nodded and asked for a cappuccino for him and a bottle of sparkling water for her. As the waiter left, that same young man that had attended me, silence descended on the table.

To give credit where credit was due, Imani managed an entire minute of quiet, watching Dominic scribble down on his angled notepad – a silly drawing of a smiling sun.

Though she never saw it.

“And what brings you aboard the Elysium, sir?”

His head didn’t rise from the drawing, even though Dominic’s lips curled for a moment as his pen started to make even more nonsensical lines.

“Should I not be here, Miss Soarez? I’m led to believe your business has become something of a… hot-spot these past few months. Apparently, Tik-Tok adores the vibe…”

She puffed her chest at that, smiling from ear to ear. The pen stopped suddenly, with a click, and Dominic’s smile was nothing but a raise of the corners of his mouth as he gave the first blow.

“... Not that I found anything special about it.”

Shock spread through Imani’s body as the words settled in – her smile paralyzing before she shook her head in confusion. It was, Dominic considered, a very interesting display of human emotions before she settled in apprehensive disbelief.

“W-what do you mean, sir?”

“Hm? Your business lacks… a spark, Miss Soarez. Something that makes this place worth visiting more than once.”

The disbelief was replaced by a small degree of incredulity, though not of the rude kind. Imani, it seems, would not disregard his opinions over her pride.

The young woman had been proving herself better than most already.

“Is the futuristic theme not enough, sir? Or the food? We put a lot of effort into designing the menu.”

It was Dominic’s turn to stop. He tried to lean back on the seat, but the distance from the edge of the table to the back of the egg-shaped chair almost made him lose balance. Coming back up suddenly as vertigo settled in, he coughed a little.

“We, Miss Imani? May I call you Imani?”

“Hum, Yes, sir. And we as in me and the crew, of course.”

A smile of delighted surprise spread on his face, and Dominic began to understand what Armstrong had seen in his student.

“Of course, Imani. Now, do you mind answering a question before we proceed?” The woman nodded in response, her braids moving alongside her head. “Do you happen to know what a Small Tyrant is?”

“A… Small Tyrant?”

“Yes. Has Armstrong never taught you that?”

Imani’s eyes widened, and he could see the way she calculated something behind them. An almost conclusion.

“You… know Professor Armstrong, sir?”

“Yes, but that’s for later. Try to answer the question first.”

She shook her head in denial and Dominic sighed in response. Honestly, what have they been teaching the kids in university nowadays? He’d blame Armstrong for it later.

“A Small Tyrant is a term we used when I was about your age. Me and my friends, you see. It was used for a very specific type of entrepreneur. One that believes their… vision should be followed at all costs, even at the harm of their employees.”

Dominic omitted the fact Melissa had been talking about him when she came up with the nickname. It would be better for everyone not to remember those days – especially him.

The young entrepreneur nodded, a frown on her brow. Imani rested her hands on the table, and the elderly man proceeded to do the same – almost as if they were exchanging secrets.

He had to admit. The easy familiarity made Dominic more than happy.

“So a bad boss, then.”

“Ah, but there’s the catch. Indeed, they can be terrible to their employees – but, Small Tyrants also have the awful characteristic of being charming. Their displays of power and control have, many times, hypnotized young men and women like you. Which makes them… a kind of epidemic in the industry.”

Imani nodded, before suddenly connecting unseen dots and retracting in disbelief. It was impressive how easy it was to read her face – and what was clear in her expression made Dominic want to laugh.

“You don’t think I’m one of them, do you?”

The elder couldn’t help himself. A laugh escaped his throat and Dominic waved a hand in dismissal.

“No, Miss Imani. You can rest assured. The fact you are not a Small Tyrant, however, makes this all the more fascinating.”

“Oh. Uh… why is that?”

Stopping for a moment, he thought over the proper way of explaining it. Details on his job were somewhat well-known, but people tended to have some misconceptions still.

“They’re… usually the people I work with. Not only in the food industry, of course. Every place could very well produce their office dictator.”

“And your job is to remove them. I know that’s why you’re called The Angel. You save the workers.”

The waiter returned before Dominic could respond, setting down his cappuccino while opening Imani’s bottle of sparkling water. After both of them thanked the young man, he took a sip of the liquid, tasting the chocolate mixed with the coffee and loving the way it warmed his throat and stomach.

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“Bah. Another misconception. Few are the times I actually have to do such a thing. In most cases I pick they’re still redeemable. So, imagine my surprise when Armstrong told me to come take a look at this place and I found nothing but a budding dream.”

“A… dream? Apologies, sir, but this is just a café.”

Dominic froze with the beverage on his lips, thinner due to age, and the next sip of cappuccino tasted bitter. All sweetness was gone as Dominic looked at Imani and she retracted herself at the disapproval in his eyes.

Internally, Dominic wondered if he had made a wrong assumption. Where was the joking confidence he had seen? Where was the pride to claim you were doing a good job? Perhaps…

… Perhaps his interference would have to be a little more personal. He made a mental note to double the number of wine bottles Armstrong had promised him as recompense.

“You do yourself a disservice, Imani. Or do you not see how comfortable your employees are around you? The way they respect you and care for your business? They share your dream, so spare this old man of any cowardice. Lift your chin, young lady. You’re doing good.”

Imani did so, and her dark cheeks were aflame. The embarrassed woman stayed silent, however, and he took the opportunity to continue the lecture.

“You’re doing good… but you’re not perfect yet. As it is, the Elysium will probably close within a couple of years and your employees will have to suffer under a boss that doesn’t care for them as closely as you do. And we don’t want that, do we?”

The woman bit her lower lip, a strike of defiance in her eyes. Imani hesitated, but Dominic gestured for her to process like a teacher in class.

“You… say that sir, but we’ve been doing pretty well. Our market team received a major boon with the sudden social media popularity. Why would we close so soon?”

And to that, Dominic stood up. Suddenly. And his spine cracked with the effort. Being in his sixties had its disadvantages, but besides using a cane to help him walk around, there was little to complain about.

He even managed to enjoy pilates and swimming twice a week.

Fixing his suit and placing the notepad inside the inner pocket, it was slowly that Dominic turned to the still-seated Imani, a single eyebrow raising in a question.

“Well? What are you waiting for?”

The sound of fluttering feet and Imani failing to get up from the chair made laughter bubble in his chest.

***

“I will fire you.”

The words came so suddenly that the poor clerk froze on his steps. The same boy that had brought Dominic his coffee now was paralyzed in front of the kitchen. Imani froze, exasperated, behind the elder.

“... sir? I don’t – I don’t think I understand.”

“There’s nothing to understand, boy. I will fire you. That’s all.”

“I’m – I’m sorry, but did I do something wrong? Miss Imani?”

His cane struck the floor with a loud crack, making both of them jump. Dominic’s face contorted with wrath and he shoved a finger into the boy’s chest. He was shorter than the man, but confidence made him a titan.

“Don’t look at her. Look at me. Look at me. The girl can do nothing to help you. Unfortunately to you, I answer to her investor – and I want to fire you. Unless… well, unless you answer some things.”

The boy blinked so much Dominic thought he was having a stroke, but after gulping some air he nodded sheepishly. The elder’s smile was all teeth as he used his cane to strike the clerk’s chest, lightly, and stared deeply into his pupils.

“Good, good. Now, your name, boy?”

“Um, Lucas, sir.”

Never breaking eye contact, Dominic raised an eyebrow. The boy was beginning to sweat with nerves.

“Your full name, Lucas. Who gives only their first name?”

“S-sorry, sir. It’s Pedro Lucas Fernandes Medeiros.”

Nodding, the softer way the “r” rolled, and the lack of the hissing “z” made it clear he wasn’t of Spanish-speaking descent. Although… the name was certainly close. Maybe Brazilian?

“Well, Mr. Pedro Lucas. Tell me, do you like working here?” His eyes darted to Imani and Dominic actually hissed in distaste. “No, don’t look at her. Keep looking at me. Good man, good man. Answer the question, Lucas.”

“Hm… yes, sir. I do.”

The boy found certainty after a moment, nodding in affirmation. The elder’s brown eyes narrowed behind the tiny glasses he wore and he could feel his jaw locking. Tense. Perceptible.

“Tsc. Complete answers, Lucas. Why do you enjoy working here?”

His fingers shook, and Dominic could hear Imani’s foot tapping against the tiles. But still, Lucas did not break eye contact.

“Hm, the pay is good, sir. More than the usual salary. We don’t work too much and the schedule is pretty well kept, so no one feels too tired. We… uh, we even get to take some food home from time to time. Miss Imani takes good care of us.”

“Oh? Is that so, Lucas? What if I told you I had a job for you? The investors might want to fire you, but I can employ you in a better place. With better pay and better food – however, you’ll have to resign yourself. Could you do it?”

The young man bit his lower lip, thinking for a second as the offer whispered sweetly into his ears. He was tempted, Dominic could see it clearly, but in the end, he shook his head.

“No, sir. I’ll… I’ll wait to see if Miss Imani can fix it.”

“Oh? You will lose your job, Lucas. And I can give you a better one. And I. Won’t. Ask. Again.”

Lucas stared into the elder’s eyes, and Dominic put all he could into cowering the young man. Years of working in the service industry made one able to face storms and hurricanes without batting an eye, so he half-expected him to at least make Lucas fold for a second. The young man didn’t.

For a moment, Dominic even wondered if age had dulled his stare somewhat.

“Still no, sir. I trust Miss Imani. She’ll either fix things or… or find me somewhere else. She’ll help me, you’ll see.”

Dominic sighed, sagging, before turning back to Imani. The smile he showed her after a moment was large and honest, making his eyes almost disappear completely with the rise of his cheeks.

“Told you he wouldn’t leave. They share the dream, Imani.”

The entrepreneur could barely contain herself. Her eyes were shiny with unshed tears and she grasped her chest as if having a heart attack.

“Oh, c’mon, don’t cry, Imani. It’s fine. Come here, Lucas, hug her for a second.”

The boy did so, awkwardly, while she mumbled choked thanks against his chest.

A serene smile adorned Dominic’s face as he looked around. Another worker, the woman with silver makeup and the chrome jumpsuit stared at the scene with confusion and he answered her with a wink and a giggle.

Truly, there wasn’t a better job to make him feel so young.

“So… I’m not getting fired?”

“Hm? Ah, no. You’re not. In fact, I’ll even ask Imani to raise your pay grade. Loyalty should be rewarded after all.”

“Oh sir, there’s no…”

Dominic stepped on his foot, lightly. The elder’s smile was wide, but he kept on looking into Lucas’s eyes with that… intensity.

“Take the win, yes? No need to be humble.”

The silent nod was all the confirmation Dominic needed.

“Good, good. Now, Imani, please let the boy go. And clean your makeup. We have more to see.”

***

There was a certain value to being inconspicuous that few can comprehend, and even less admire. For example, now that Dominic and Imani were waiting outside the coffee shop, no one would believe the two of them were richer than the common passerby.

Imani, with her tall frame and clicking heels, was a growing entrepreneur who had been riding on an influx of sudden capital that would make most restaurant owners green with envy.

Dominic? Well, he had developed enough businesses to know that there was a thing as being too rich. The only thing that kept him in this line of work at the end was, as the poets said, passion.

And yet, as they sat in the teashop located on the other side of the street, no one recognized them. It came with the job at times, to be much more known by your name than your face, and Dominic never complained about it. Especially in situations such as this, when it was a boon to be anonymous.

Half an hour had passed already since his sudden threat against Lucas’s employment. Imani had found enough time to retouch her smudged makeup, and now she sat in thoughtful silence while the elder sipped on some pomegranate tea.

“So, you know Professor Armstrong?”

“Hm? Indeed. We were… roommates back in college and have been friends ever since.

“Was… Was he the one that asked you to visit Elysium?”

He settled the teacup down and nodded, picking one of the sweat biscuits they had ordered. Imani refused to eat, but Dominic quite enjoyed the light snack.

“Correct. He told me ‘I have this student I want you to check on, maybe help a little.’ And I agreed – mostly because I was in town and bored.”

“You were… bored?”

The sound of the biscuit being cracked in half was loud as he tried to give part of it to Imani. She refused, so he ate it while looking out the window and into the glass doors adorning the Elysium’s facade.

“Dreadfully so. Oh – I see it now – don’t be offended, Imani. Just… try to see it from my point of view. I’ve been doing this for the past twenty years. I’ve eaten good food, bad food, bland food, and even poisoned food once – though that one came from an ex-lover.”

Dominic shivered at the memory. Poisoning someone with cyanide was not a nice thing to do.

“What I mean by that is that I’ve visited a lot of restaurants. And not only them.” Showing her his hands, the old businessman lowered a finger every time he listed a place. “There were coffee shops, bakeries, hotels, bars, cruise ships, bistrós, kiosks, and even a couple of thematic movie theaters. Hmm… there were bars and sushi bars as well. Lovely seafood, by the way.”

“So, yes.” Dominic shrugged, munching on another biscuit, this one shaped like a flower and tasting of pistachio. “After a while, things tend to become more of the same. Oh, we get a new promising chef from time to time, but they usually fail to succeed for long.”

Imani’s eyes gleamed for a second as she absorbed the explanation, making Dominic grin at the speed with which she captured things.

“Is that why you help other businesses? To make sure they are not… wasted.”

With a glimpse outside he knew it was time. Dominic’s grin stretched into a jester’s smile.

“Perhaps. Perhaps not. But let’s continue with your sudden lesson for now. There’s something more you should see.”

So the duo left the candid coffee shop, leaving a generous tip for the clerk in charge of our table. The walk across the street was quiet, but Imani noticed the older man’s gait was a lot slower this time. Limping, almost. Even the curvature of his spine was much more accentuated than before.

Through the glass doors of the Elysium, a paying couple began to push the doors open, and Dominic advanced.

“Oh, excuse me, friends.” He smiled, open and frail. The owner of the Elysium listened attentively beside him, only nodding in greeting. “I and my granddaughter were looking for a place to have a snack and, well, I saw you two leaving this… coffee shop and thought ‘why not ask?’. Apologies if this old man is being too intrusive with such a lovely couple.”

The man, a tall figure with a white shirt and jeans, nodded in response. He held his companion’s hand carefully, a woman shorter than him and sporting a long flow of blonde hair and a kind smile.

“It’s fine, sir. And… the place is alright. Nice people.”

Dominic waited for an uncomfortable beat before noticing they wouldn’t say more about it.

“That’s… all? I heard it got quite famous recently.”

The blonde woman squeezed the hand she held and answered with a polite smile.

“Yeah, that’s why we came too. Saw it on TikTok and just… couldn’t wait. It’s pretty nice and, well, we both like the sci-fi theme…”

The woman paused, and Dominic almost thought they were at a play with how perfectly well she followed the script he had in mind. Maybe Imani was lucky to have such a clear lesson in the end.

“Sorry to ask, but, was there something wrong?”

The woman bit her lower lip in consternation, looking at the man beside her. The tall figure sighed but explained in the best way he could.

“Uh… not really? How can I put it? It’s just… not that great? I mean, the place was nice, I guess – and the coffee was good. But everything else was, well, bland.”

“Oh, I’m – sorry to hear that. I think… I think we’ll try to find somewhere else then.”

The man nodded.

“Yeah, that might be nice. Or you can visit it once and see for yourself. But you do you, sir.”

The conversation ended and the elder waved the couple goodbye, smiling as they did the same. Polite young people were always nice to meet. Regardless, Dominic knew they had done their job to a T, not that it was hard to properly select who to show to Imani.

You got the gist of reading people after so much time in the industry. One of its many boons if he dared to say so.

Turning around and straightening his spine, Imani’s hurt look emanated defeat. Her shoulders slumped under the criticism and – worst of it all – the bad impression the Elysium had left on her clients. As Dominic had told her, it wasn’t enough. So he rubbed her arm in sympathy and gestured towards the door with his cane.

“Shall we have one last chat, Imani?”

***

“So, tell me. What did you learn today?”

“My clients won’t return.”

Imani muttered the words like a death sentence, eyes distant as she stared at the table. Even with all the sympathy in his heart, Dominic could not find it in himself to coddle her.

“Indeed. They won’t. But that’s only focusing on the bad side of things. Change the picture, Imani. See more.”

She took a shaky breath, eyes closing tightly as the sad atmosphere around her began to shrink. Not disappear, not yet, but it would be enough. There was value in a little bit of suffering after all.

From the corner of his eyes, Dominic could see a few of the workers chatting down at the central part of the Elysium. More than once the elder answered a stray look from them with a wave of his hand.

“The… My crew. I won’t be able to maintain them. They work so hard and I won’t be able to maintain them.”

“You’re correct. An unfortunate outcome, I dare say. Many will return to worse jobs or find another, more stifling and unhappy carrier. But such is life… at times.”

“No… there – there must be something I can do, right? To help them.”

He smiled and nodded with absolute certainty. For a moment, the notepad on his jacket felt heavier than usual, but it wasn’t the right time yet. Just a little more. A last test.

“Of course there is. Only, well, death can not be solved. For your conundrum, however, many things can be done. But are you willing to do it, Imani? It won’t be easy or cheap – but again, few things worthy of our time usually are.”

“I will do it. I just… need to have an idea. Yeah. They trust me.”

“That they do, my dear, that they do. But can you repay that trust? I mean, if I wasn’t here to show you all of that, would you even notice your mistakes?”

And that made her stop. For a moment, Dominic worried she’d break under the weight of what could have happened, but Imani proved herself flexible like a spring once more.

“I… don’t know. Maybe? Just not so soon.”

“Indeed. It could have been too late by the time you noticed there was no clientele to keep the Elysium… afloat, so to speak.”

“But that didn’t happen.”

Imani’s certainty made Dominic raise an eyebrow, and he mulled over her words carefully.

“It did not. But today was a small blessing – one that came at the right time. You must not count on such things when making your plans, Imani. So… before you change something about the business, what can you do to improve yourself?”

And the woman thought and thought, but he could see the lingering despair stopping her from reaching a conclusion and bringing only anxiety in its wake. A wound too sore and new for Imani to stitch together by herself.

“C’mon. From the top. Tell me, what was the first mistake?”

“I… I doubted the crew would stay behind. That this place was worth their work.”

Taking a deep breath, Dominic shook his head in denial. Imani’s brows furrowed with confusion, but she remained silent.

“No. That was your second mistake, my dear. The first was when you said there was no dream here. You are their boss, Imani. The head of the snake, so to speak. You must always believe in what you’re doing – or at least never admit you have doubts about any but your closest and most secretive relations. Do you know why? Because when push comes to shove, and the bad days arrive – and they will come – you’ll be the one responsible for grounding your crew. For remembering them they were fighting for a dream they shared.”

“Oh…”

He scoffed. All this effort and all Dominic got was an “Oh” in response. Lord above, young people nowadays…

“Hmph. Such an eloquent response. Now, you’ve already explained mistake number two. But that was only half of it.”

“Half of the mistake? I thought…”

A roll of his eyes later and Imani got the message. She had to notice these things herself, even if she wouldn’t come up with a solution today.

“I – okay, alright. I doubted the others. I thought they would leave Elysium at the first opportunity they had. I – I don’t think I even considered the possibility of them wanting to stay.”

“Correct. But again, that’s half the doubt. There’s more to it. Say it.”

“I… Did I doubt… myself? Uh, I never thought I was good enough to make them want to stay. I always imagined them leaving after a while.”

Finally. Head bobbing up and down in affirmation, Dominic nestled into the curvature of the egg-shaped chair. He was, most definitely, not going to force his back to try and stay upright anymore. The pain was already getting difficult to handle.

“Being proud of your accomplishments is a slippery slope that only the brave dare to face. Be too proud, and arrogance will cloud your sight. Be too humble, and others will walk over you.”

His fingers tightened around the polished, dark wood of his cane and he used it to point straight toward Imani’s heart. There was a point to all these reflections, and she should absorb it all to proceed without faltering.

“You, Imani, are a humble person by nature. I’ve met more people like you than I can count. That doesn’t make you lesser in any way, but you should always moderate it. If you were a boss half as bad as you think of yourself, the others would have left. That they stayed is proof enough.”

The woman nodded in understanding, and Dominic felt satisfied. To meet someone willing to hear him was always a balm.

“There’s more though, isn’t there? A last mistake.”

Now look at her, not even needing his prodding anymore. Moving around in the chair, Dominic spoke through a gasp as he found the perfect position.

“Yes. The one you made with your clients.”

“The Elysium, as it is, isn’t enough to make them want to return. You said we lacked a… spark, but I thought it was going well.”

“Ah. The arrogance of youth... Imani, it’s not because a plan looks nice on paper, that it will work for as long as we want them to. You designed this place to be an experience but fell into the one-attraction-circus territory. There’s nothing to see here after that.”

“Well… there is the coffee, though. You said it yourself that it was good.”

Dominic froze in place, and changed his expression to look at her with an annoyed rise of an eyebrow.

“And? Have you built yourself a spaceship or a coffee machine, Imani? Mediocrity doesn’t look good on you, my dear, and you should strive for more than just… selling coffee. Or do you think you can pay all your employees with only the profit your drinks bring?”

Imani curled inwards at the chastisement, thinking harder than he had ever seen her do until now. She would have to choose her true path, in time. All people do.

Dominic’s work, however – or at least part of it – is to ensure she knows her options. Youth does cloud one's sight with its anxiety.

“So – have you thought of what to do? Time is ticking, and you must come to a decision.”

“I... I have to improve myself. Become more proactive. I should have been able to see that the Elysium wasn’t going as well as the ledgers said…”

Imani bit her lower lip and pushed some of her braids aside. The constant movement had begun to unmake the bun she sported.

“... But I don’t know how to do it. Do you know what I have to do?”

And that was it. Healthy doubt and the search for help in other people. It was time. With a sharp sound, the notepad slammed against the table, jerking Imani away from her spiraling state.

Dominic’s grin was proud.

“Not at all. What? Did you really think I expected you to come up with a life-altering plan in five minutes? Please, my dear, I’m not so cruel of a teacher. Finding how to change is only half of improving yourself – a half that I trust you to keep fighting for – the other half, however, is finding out why you want to change. And that’s enough for today. So, here…”

Pushing the notepad across the table, Imani grabbed it after he gave her a confirming nod. The young woman opened the first pages and read them with more and more speed as it dawned on her what they were.

“These… these are…”

“Business plans, yes. A few ideas on how to ensure Elysium continues to be a success. Of course, you can change or adapt or even not enact them if you so wish, though I would advise against that.”

Imani looked agog at the pages, her eyes scanning The Angel’s ideas with the voraciousness of an eager student.

“There are even costs…”

“Hm? On some things, yes. I’m not, unfortunately, savvy enough to know the market price of your coffee from the top of my head, but…” And Dominic rubbed a thumb and index finger together, clicking his tongue like coins in a pouch. “I do know how much you should pay some of the new workers I advised you to hire.”

She stopped on the seventh page and read the list of new workers he had recommended. If Imani were to launch this spaceship, then she might as well hire a complete crew.

“An exclusive chef, a decorator, a… writer? I don’t think I understand, sir.”

“Ah, allow me to elucidate then. The exclusive chef is to both improve your recipes – which are… not as good as your other products – and to create new ones. I recommend you hire at least two of them or get into a contract with a few to commission new recipes. Does your University have a gastronomy course?” Imani nodded positively in response. “Great. Go for the students, recent graduates, and whatnot. You’re young, it should be easy to convince them to have a look at your ideas.”

“And what are those? I mean, we could change other recipes into the whole sci-fi theme but… that’s not what you’re talking about is it?”

“Indeed. That’s why you will want a decorator and a writer next. Also, add a stylist as well, you will need one. Or a costume designer. This is California, you can find them easily.” Dominic lent her his pen to write the new ideas down.

“You see, Imani, you want the Elysium to be a place people will return to – and that’s great, don’t get me wrong – but I would make it an attraction. So… a writer and a decorator because, my dear, you are going to invest in a mythology.”

She stopped, stared at his smile, and proceeded to try and clean her ears with one finger.

“Sorry? A mythology?”

“Of course. What kind of spaceship travels infinitely through space? Without ever landing? No, no, no. You want the Elysium to land somewhere. And on those days, you’ll make it an event. Hire a decorator to change the atmosphere of the shop into an alien one – this place is already so bare we might as well call it a blank canvas.”

“And the writer is to create a theme? Like, make a coherent story?”

Oh, how she got things fast. Armstrong really hit a potluck with her.

“Indeed. I recommend appealing to either children or those nostalgic for the 80s and 90s sci-fi. Find some entertainers and actors, or even members of your crew, willing to perform an act on special nights. Once per month is enough. The week after that, you’ll change the menu to dishes related to this new alien planet.”

“That’s… That’s a lot of money you’re talking about, Mr. Jones.”

“And? My dear, I’d invest in you myself to see this all workout. Now, go to the next page. We must talk about fidelity plans.”

***

It took far longer than an hour to turn all of Dominic’s notes into a proper, coherent plan. Imani, patient as she was, sat for as long as she could before asking Lucas for her laptop and properly set things up.

Thank God for that, really. Dominic was beginning to worry she’d forget some of the details, especially considering many of them came abruptly as they threw the plans back and forth between each other.

Nevertheless, his work in the Elysium had come to its end – and it was time for Dominic to leave this bulging dream to develop on its own.

“Once again, thank you so much, sir. This project… it might really help the crew.”

A cane rose to tap her on the shoulder as he smiled at her words, hopeful for her success.

“It will work, Imani. Have some faith. You’re a capable young woman. Now, do contact me for a proper investment in your business. I’m most definitely not staying out of this.”

“Of course, sir.”

She nodded and got up from her chair at the same time Dominic did, shaking his hand in a firm grip. So he gave her one last gift.

“And please, my dear. Call me Dominic.”

So it ended. A new business venture taking flight over the wings of a tiny prodigy. And as Dominic turned his back to Imani, ready to walk down the stairs toward the central area and the open kitchen – the world ended.

System Initializing…

Welcome Earthlings, to the Universal System.

Please, prepare for the new configuration of your planet.

The Tutorial will begin in instants.

The blue prompt shone suddenly on Dominic’s sight, a flash of color foreign enough to make his eyes dart towards it. And cause his cane to slip on the steps. And his aching back to lock.

And Dominic’s balance vanished as he fell…

and fell…

and fell…

Into oblivion with a broken neck.