A tall, broad-shouldered young man stood behind an expansive mahogany desk, his figure outlined against the skyline. His olive-bronze hands were clasped neatly behind his back, his expression calm and confident a testament of collected authority. The floor-to-ceiling tempered glass before him framed a sprawling cityscape, letting sunlight kiss his face, warm like the comfort of a fireplace. Below him were wispy white clouds curling around structures made of steel and glass. The skyscrapers, sleek and towering, evidence of humanity's potential touched the sky. Their reflective surfaces caught the light of the late afternoon sun, casting brilliant streaks of gold across the skyline. The buildings swayed ever so slightly, as if in silent defiance of nature, giants dancing to the melody of the wind.
The man stood so high that the people below, tiny dots of motion, were less human, more machine. Not him though, he stood above it all, a pioneer of change and a leader of the people. It was his rightful place in the world, a pillar of excellence.
The walls of his office bore the remnants to his past, a life filled with promise. A diploma from a prestigious university hung on one wall, its ornate frame catching the light. Nearby, medals earned from his rowing days gleamed faintly, one in particular–five intertwined rings–whispering of glory. A pristine vision board, neatly decorated with notes and photographs hung in the corner, representing his future ambition. Dominating the final wall was a framed patent, the culmination of years of effort, a piece of paper that promised to change the world. .
A voice shattered the tranquil silence. With some effort the man tore his eyes from the sight in front of him. The voice called out to him again.
“Kael…Kael!”
The city dissolved into nothingness as Kael jolted awake, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the dim, cluttered confines of his office. For a fleeting moment, he allowed himself to imagine that he belonged there–that high, that powerful, above it all. But even as the thought passed through his mind, it turned bitter. That city wasn’t his, it never had been. It was a silent reminder to a dream he had long since given up on.
Catherine tapped her foot impatiently, catching his attention as she cleared her throat. She stood in the doorway, her silhouette framed by the faint glow of hallway lights. Her blonde hair was pulled into a loose bun, and dark circles underlined her eyes, evidence of her own exhaustion. In her arms, was a stack of papers, thick enough to make Kael’s stomach churn.
“You’re still here?” he said, his voice rasping with sleepiness. Rubbing his bleary eyes he glanced at the clock on the wall. 11:49 PM. “I thought everyone left hours ago. You realize sleep isn’t optional, right?”
“You’re one to talk,” Catherine snorted, shifting the papers to her hip. “Aren’t you the guy who pulled three all-nighters before our first investor pitch?”
Kael chuckled, but the sound was hollow. “I hardly remember that, it feels like a lifetime ago. It doesn’t hardly matters though, we are done now.”
He gestured vaguely at the office. Papers were strewn across his desk, their edges curling around empty coffee mugs and an overturned whiskey bottle. The sharp aroma of stale alcohol lingered in the air. In the corner, cardboard boxes overflowed with old business files and dusty office supplies. The only furniture still present in the room were the chair he sat on, his desk, and a leather couch he used to take naps on.
His own reflection in the window barely resembled the man he had been. His blazer lay discarded in the corner of the office. His once-crisp suit was now wrinkled and stained with coffee. His tie hung loose and crooked around his neck, frayed at the ends. His bloodshot eyes were shadowed with exhaustion, his usually sleek hair disheveled. He smelled of stale coffee and regret. He was a man on the edge of collapse.
“You know it doesn’t have to be the end,” Catherine pointed out hopefully. “I know the company didn’t turn out how we wanted, but that’s common. Most companies fail within the first five years. If we stuck together, we could start over.”
Kael shook his decisively. “No it won’t work. The cost of financing a new company would be too high. No investor would even give us the time of day. It was a dumb idea.”
Stolen story; please report.
Catherine sighed, her gaze drifting over the office. “Okay, I get it.” She stepped forward to place the stack of papers on his desk with a resounding thud. “Everything’s finalized. The assets are liquidated, the debts accounted for, and severance paid out. Investors will get what’s left once you sign off.” She stepped back to level her gaze with his.
“Thank you, Catherine,” Kael’s voice cracked, and cleared his throat. “For everything. I…I don’t think I could have done it without you. I don’t know what I did to deserve such loyal employees.”
“It’s not loyalty, we believe in you. In your vision, Kael. You inspired us.” Catherine retorted.
“You’re wasting your faith.” He looked down and stared at his trembling fingers. “I'm nobody. I have nothing, I have nothing left to give.”
Catherine slammed her palm on the desk, startling him. “You always do this!”
He blinked at her with confusion. “Do what?”
“Put the entire weight of the world on your shoulders. You think we followed you because of some pitch deck or product idea?”
“Didn’t you?”
“No, Kael,” she exhaled sharply, throwing her hands in the air. “We followed you because you’re the guy who dared to try. Even after losing yourself, you confronted the unknown and decided to try again. That’s why we stayed with you.”
“But I failed you,” Kael muttered, sinking deeper into his chair. His thoughts drifted to the man above the clouds. “You all deserved better.”
Catherine sighed. Her tone softened. “That’s the problem, Kael,” She pointed a finger at Kael. “You keep saying ‘I failed’, as if it was all on you. We all made choices, we all took risks. You're not responsible for that.”
Kael opened his mouth to argue, but the words caught in his throat. He looked down at his hands, holding his hands to stop the trembling. He closed his eyes and nodded faintly.
“Whether you still believe it or not, people are watching. They still care about what you do, so don’t give up.”
“I’m no hero, Catherine,” whispered Kael. He broke her gaze, turning his head towards the window.
“No one is asking you to be a hero, Kael. They’re asking you to try.”
Catherine moved towards the door, pausing before she left the room. She opened her mouth to say one last thing, but she hesitated. Then she continued walking, disappearing into the darkness.
The silence that followed was suffocating. Kael leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. He contemplated the meaning of Catherine’s words, eventually, he rose from his desk with a heavy sigh. Then he shuffled to the couch in the corner. He collapsed into its leather, exhaustion finally taking hold. As he lay there, he recalled the memories of a simpler time, when success had been second nature.
Kael was destined for greatness. At least, that’s what everyone had told him. From the moment he could walk, his parents nurtured his talents and demanded success. And for a while, he delivered. He excelled in anything he did whether it was academics or athletics. He was the golden boy, he was loved by everyone, the one meant to change the world.
But life disagreed with the young man’s expectations.
As he grew older, the field around him began to change. School became harder, the classes more specialized, competition fiercer, life demanded more effort–effort he wasn’t prepared to give. In school, his grades slipped. On the rowing team, his efforts were not enough compared to his peers. When he was cut from the team, it felt like the first crack in an otherwise perfect facade.
His fall from grace was subtle. The cracks widened with time. By the time he graduated, Kael’s name had lost its luster. As time continued and years passed by, he faded into obscurity.
When the opportunity to start his own company arose, Kael seized it like a drowning man clutching at driftwood. To his credit, his idea was sound, his team ambitious and for a while, it seemed he may have found a path to redemption. But then came the mistakes. A miscalculated risk here, a poorly timed decision there. Investors began to call his leadership into question. He underestimated the ruthless nature of the business world. Eventually, investors pulled out, debts mounted and the company collapsed. Yet, this didn’t just mean that a business had failed–it meant that Kael had failed himself.
He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the curly strands. His hands dropped, and he whispered to the darkness.
“Give me something,” he whispered. “Anything. A sign.”
As Kael leaned back down on the couch, his gaze drifted to the patent on the wall. The framed document, once a source of pride, now felt like a cruel reminder of unmet expectations. He remembered the day it arrived in the mail, the weight of it in his hands as he envisioned the impact it would have. “A world-changer,” the investors had called it.
But the world didn’t change. Not in the way he hoped.
The office was quiet, save for the occasional creak of the building settling and the distant hum of the city below. He sighed and closed his eyes, willing himself to sleep.
Then the clock struck midnight.
The lights flickered.
Kael froze. The air in the room grew heavy, electric. A low rumble rolled through the room, shaking the floor beneath him. The hum built steadily, low and resonant, coming from everywhere and nowhere. It grew louder with each passing second. Until, a voice, deep and otherworldly, reverberated in his skull:
Welcome to the Tenfold Crucible. Your world has been chosen. Compete or perish. Ascend, and your people may reign supreme.
Strange symbols hung in the air but he understood them, alien yet ultimately clear. The symbols were glowing white, they weren’t any language that he recognized. The flickering lights steadied, bathing the room in an eerie glow. Kael’s breath hitched as he looked around, his pulse pounding in his ears.
And then they were gone.
Kael staggered to his feet, his heart racing. The voice echoed in his head repeating the words:
“Compete or perish.”
The Crucible had begun.