The Legendary Life of Arctha (Seriously)

Hi! The name's Arctha—yeah, I know, people always mess it up, but it's important, alright? It's not Argatha or Aracatha, it's Aaaarctha—and yes, you've gotta say it with all the flair! And the full name, Arctha Vana Quindiesel? Kinda sounds familiar, huh? Maybe someone you might know, like—"Hey there, puddin'! Miss me?" And then... she kept going.

Today, like every other day, I'm off to my thrilling job as a crime-fighter—otherwise known as the only security guard at your local mall. Everyone here absolutely adores me. They appreciate and value me.

My life? Oh, it's absolutely amazing… if you overlook the awful pay, my ungrateful mother, and the total lack of love. But hey, I'm doing just fine—so fine that you wouldn't even begin to understand. See, you run on love and the need for validation, but I'm different. I'm a machine, fueled by diesel. If that doesn't make sense to you, well, that's because you're not on my level. After all, how could you understand me when you're standing beneath me?

Anyway, I strolled in, clocked in, and jotted down my start time, leaving the break and end sections blank. With those thrilling tasks out of the way, I assumed my usual post—standing by the door like a statue for the next five hours. Then, finally, break time! A glorious moment where I could sit and chill like a statue instead of just standing like one. But, as always, it ended in the blink of an eye.

As I filled in the break section on the log, something unthinkable happened—Arthur waved at me. Arthur. Waved. At. Me. Oh my god, he waved! For real! It was euphoric… until reality set back in, and I had to return to my soul-crushing shift.

And that's when things got weird.

While casually scanning the crowd, my attention snagged on a peculiar boy. No—not because I have nothing better to do. There was something off about him. He had striking raven-black hair, deep purple eyes, and a presence that unsettled the air around him. But it wasn't just his looks—something about him felt… wrong.

He was small, childlike in frame, yet he carried himself with an unsettling maturity—like a man trapped in a child's body. He wore a hat, had what looked like a rich cigar in his mouth, and strode around with a cane as if he owned the place. The energy in the mall shifted. Other people noticed him, too.

And then… he looked at me.

Walking straight up to me, he said, "Arctha."

I hesitated. Uh… what?

"…Hi?" I managed.

His response was even stranger. "It's good to see you."

I frowned. "Uh… do we know each other?"

"Oh yes," he replied with eerie certainty. "We have."

Now, that was odd. I was sure I had never seen this kid—or man, or whatever—in my life.

Mentally filing him under Crazy People to Avoid, I forced a polite smile. "Oh. Okay."

This guy was not right. I needed an escape.

"Ohhh," I said, snapping my fingers like I'd just remembered something urgent. "I need to use the restroom!"

The weirdest part? He let me go without protest. Like he knew exactly what I was doing.

I hurried off and made my way to my sanctuary—the mall restroom, a sacred haven of peace and isolation.

Or so I thought.

The second I pushed the door open, a stench hit me like a freight train. Oh my god.

It clung to the back of my throat, rotten and sour. I was convinced someone had a dead animal inside them and decided now was the time to let it loose.

So much for peace.

Still, it was better than dealing with that guy. I lingered for a while, hoping he'd be gone by the time I came out.

When the bathroom finally aired out, I relaxed, pulling out my phone. I opened Energram—zero followers. My latest post? No reposts. Just one like. From my stepfather.

I clicked my tongue in irritation. Now I didn't even feel like scrolling anymore.

But just as I was about to leave, I heard it.

"Arctha."

I froze.

No way. He's still here?

I turned, and there he was, standing outside the restroom like some kind of cryptic messenger.

"Your destiny awaits you," he declared. "I come from a land beyond this one—a faraway land."

Ohhh, right. So that's what this was.

Feigning excitement, I clapped my hands together. "Oh, wow! That sounds amazing!" I nodded enthusiastically while subtly signaling for the manager. "I'll be right with you!"

As soon as the manager arrived, I bolted. The boy—man—whatever tried to follow, but the manager stepped in.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you deal with crazy customers.

Clapping my hands together like I had just solved world hunger, I made my way back to my post, muttering, "What is this, an isekai? That guy needs a shrink."

…But some small, annoying part of me wondered if he was telling the truth.

As I returned to my spot, I peered through the glass doors.

He was still there. Sitting. Watching.

I scowled.

Is he seriously going to wait until I get off work?