Shadows in the neon glow

Eldrin's footsteps echoed through the narrow alleyways of Zenith City, the neon glow of the towering skyscrapers casting an artificial twilight over the streets. It was past midnight, and the city was alive with its usual blend of high-speed aircars zipping through the sky, distant chatter from late-night diners, and the hum of automated vendors. For most, this was the hour when life slowed down, but for Eldrin, it was just the beginning of another long shift.

He adjusted the strap of his delivery pack, feeling the familiar weight pressing against his back. The contents—a package bound for a luxury penthouse in the upper district—were fragile, according to the app. Not that it mattered much; Eldrin never really cared what was inside. His job was simple: pick up, drop off, and disappear.

At twenty-one, Eldrin had already spent most of his life alone. The orphanage in the lower districts where he'd grown up was a distant memory, a place where he had learned early on that relying on others was a fool's game. The city had taught him to be self-sufficient, to trust no one but himself. In a place as sprawling and indifferent as Zenith, that lesson had been drilled into him from day one.

He weaved through the crowded sidewalks, his lean frame slipping easily between groups of late-night revelers and street vendors. The lower districts were a maze of densely packed buildings and endless streams of people, a stark contrast to the pristine, orderly world of the upper levels. Here, the air was thick with the smell of fried street food, engine exhaust, and the occasional waft of incense from a nearby shrine. The streets were alive with color, vibrant murals on every wall, graffiti blending seamlessly with advertisements projected on every surface.

As he reached a public lift that would take him to the upper levels, Eldrin noticed the usual mix of faces waiting—sleep-deprived workers, tourists with wide-eyed wonder, and a few fellow couriers like himself, all dressed in the standard dark uniform that marked them as the city's invisible workforce. He leaned against the wall, pulling the hood of his jacket up to shield himself from the cold breeze that always seemed to linger in these lower corridors.

The lift doors slid open with a soft chime, and the crowd shuffled inside. Eldrin found a corner, away from the others, and stared at his reflection in the polished metal walls. His dark hair was tousled from the wind, his eyes—grey and sharp—betrayed the fatigue he felt but never showed. He had learned long ago to keep his emotions buried deep, hidden behind a mask of indifference. It was easier that way. Safer.

The lift ascended with a smooth hum, and the view outside changed from the cluttered streets of the lower districts to the sleek, towering spires of the upper city. The transition was always jarring, like stepping into a different world. Up here, everything was polished and pristine, the air crisp and clean, filtered through the city's advanced environmental controls. The buildings were works of art, their glass facades reflecting the myriad of colors from the neon signs and the occasional passing aircar.

Eldrin couldn't help but feel a pang of bitterness as he looked out at the world beyond the lift's glass walls. Up here, life was easy, comfortable. The people who lived in these luxury apartments had everything they could ever want, while those below scraped by just to survive. But Eldrin knew better than to dwell on such thoughts. This was the way of the world, and no amount of wishing would change it.

The lift came to a halt, and the doors slid open to reveal a wide, marble-floored hallway lined with ornate lighting and plush carpeting. Eldrin stepped out, glancing at the address on his delivery app. Penthouse 312. He found the door quickly enough and pressed the intercom button.

"Delivery for Mr. Trevallis," he said, his voice flat and professional.

There was a brief pause, then the door slid open with a quiet whoosh. Eldrin stepped inside, instantly struck by the opulence of the apartment. The walls were lined with abstract art, and the furniture was sleek and modern, with clean lines and a minimalist design. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a breathtaking view of the city below, a sea of lights stretching out into the distance.

A man in his late forties, dressed in a tailored suit, approached Eldrin with a warm smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Thank you for coming so late," he said, taking the package from Eldrin's hands. "I've been expecting this."

Eldrin nodded, already half-turned to leave. He had no interest in small talk, especially not with someone from the upper city.

But before he could step away, the man's hand caught his arm. "Wait," he said, his voice suddenly serious. "There's something I need to tell you."

Eldrin frowned, pulling his arm free. "Look, I'm just the delivery guy. If there's an issue with the package, take it up with the sender."

The man shook his head, a strange look in his eyes. "It's not about the package. It's about you."

A chill ran down Eldrin's spine. He had no idea who this man was, but the intensity in his gaze set off alarms in Eldrin's mind. He had always made a point of keeping a low profile, blending into the background. How could someone like this possibly know anything about him?

"You're Eldrin, aren't you?" the man continued, his voice lowering to a near whisper. "I've been looking for you for a long time."

Eldrin's heart pounded in his chest. "You've got the wrong person," he said, his voice tight. "I'm just a courier."

The man smiled again, this time with a hint of sadness. "That's what they made you believe. But you're much more than that, Eldrin. You're… important."

Every instinct screamed at Eldrin to leave, to get out of this place and never look back. But something in the man's tone, the way he said his name, rooted him to the spot. He wanted to run, but he couldn't move.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Eldrin managed to say, though his voice wavered.

The man sighed, running a hand through his neatly combed hair. "I don't expect you to believe me now, but soon, you'll understand. Things are going to change, and when they do, you'll need to be ready."

Eldrin took a step back, his hand hovering near the door panel. "I don't want any trouble," he said, his voice cold. "Just let me go."

The man nodded slowly, releasing a breath as if he had expected this response. "I won't stop you. But remember this, Eldrin: when the time comes, seek out the shadows. There, you'll find the answers you've been searching for, even if you don't know the questions yet."

With that, Eldrin turned and fled, the door sliding shut behind him with a soft hiss. His mind raced as he made his way back to the lift, every nerve on edge. What had just happened? Who was that man, and how did he know his name? And what did he mean by "seek out the shadows"?

As the lift descended, the familiar sights of the lower districts came back into view, but Eldrin no longer saw them. His thoughts were consumed by the man's words, by the strange encounter that had left him with more questions than answers.

And for the first time in years, Eldrin felt something he hadn't in a long time—a sense of unease, a creeping suspicion that his life was about to change in ways he couldn't yet comprehend.