A Glimmer of Normalcy

The kitchen was warm, filled with the scent of spices and simmering broth. The faint hiss of boiling water and the rhythmic chopping of vegetables created a familiar, almost soothing atmosphere.

Maya wiped her hands on a towel, glancing toward the protein cubes neatly stacked on the counter. A year ago, these had been a lifeline—compressed, synthetic meals designed to keep people alive when real food was scarce. But now, there was something better.

Something real.

The world was recovering.

The first batch of whole grains and pulses had been released just two days ago. A small victory, but a victory nonetheless. It was why she had made dal yesterday, savoring the taste of real lentils for the first time in months.

Today's meal would still be simple, but not artificial. No more just surviving.

As she stirred the pot, the door creaked open.

Rajiv entered, his steps heavy from the long day's work. He barely spoke as he lowered himself into the chair, stretching out the stiffness in his shoulders.

Maya set down the ladle and poured him a glass of water, placing it in front of him.

"Long day?" she asked.

Rajiv let out a tired breath, taking a sip. "You could say that."

The silence between them was comfortable, broken only by the occasional bubbling of the pot.

And then, as expected, Rajiv's gaze drifted toward the small, cluttered table near the wall.

Arin's workstation.

Scattered notes, an old stylus, a few hastily scribbled equations—all signs of his recent obsession.

Rajiv sighed, setting down the glass. "He's been working too hard."

Maya leaned against the counter, arms crossed. "You've noticed too?"

"Hard not to. That damn pad's got him trapped."

Maya hesitated before speaking, choosing her words carefully. "It's different this time, though."

Rajiv raised an eyebrow. "Different how?"

She turned back to the stove, stirring slowly.

"It's been so long since I've seen that look in his eyes."

Rajiv didn't respond immediately. He knew what she meant.

For the past year, Arin had been adrift.

Detached. Disinterested.

Not in a way that was obvious—not in a way most people would notice. But they had.

They had watched as the weight of the new world settled onto him, dulling the sharpness he once had.

But now...

Now there was something different.

A flicker of the old Arin.

"Did he tell you what he's working on?" Rajiv finally asked.

Maya shook her head. "Not exactly. But whatever it is, it matters to him."

Rajiv exhaled, rubbing his face. "I just hope it doesn't get him into trouble."

Maya smiled faintly, though there was a shadow of concern in her eyes.

"It probably will."

They both knew Arin too well.

Maya sat down across from Rajiv, her fingers idly tracing circles along the rim of her glass. The warmth of the kitchen wrapped around them, yet her mind wandered somewhere else—somewhere far away in time.

She let out a small chuckle, shaking her head. "You know... the first time I ever spoke to Arin, it wasn't even meant for him."

Rajiv raised an eyebrow, curious.

"Oh?"

Maya smiled, the memory unfolding in her mind like an old photograph. "I had meant to text a friend. Something about meeting up for a group project. But somehow, I sent it to the wrong number."

Rajiv smirked. "And that number was Arin's?"

She nodded. "Yeah. And instead of just ignoring it, he replied. Asked if I was talking about some secret mission or something. I was confused at first, but then we just... kept talking."

Rajiv chuckled. "Sounds like him."

Maya sighed, leaning back in her chair. "He was always so curious. It didn't matter what the topic was—science, history, conspiracy theories... he just wanted to know everything. And if he didn't know something, he'd find a way to learn it. That's what I admired about him."

She glanced at the old work tablet still sitting on the side table, its screen dark but filled with the mysteries Arin was trying to unravel.

"And, of course, when he cared about someone, he would go to any lengths for them."

Rajiv tilted his head slightly. "How long did you talk before you actually met him?"

Maya hesitated before answering, a nostalgic smile on her lips. "We didn't meet in person before we got together."

Rajiv blinked. "Wait, what?"

Maya laughed softly. "Yeah. He just... asked me out one day. Over text. And I remember thinking, 'Wow, this guy's impatient.' But..." She paused, voice turning softer. "...but the way he spoke to me, the way he cared—I felt it. Even from a distance."

She shook her head, laughing lightly. "It was ridiculous. It didn't make sense. But somehow, it worked. And after we finally met, the rest was history."

Rajiv nodded slowly, a thoughtful look on his face. "You guys really went through a lot, didn't you?"

Maya's expression shifted slightly, a shadow passing through her eyes. "Yeah... we did."

A particular memory surfaced, one she had tried to push away many times before.

The fight.

Her smile faded. "There was one time, though... something I never liked talking about."

Rajiv studied her, waiting.

Maya exhaled, pressing her hands together. "You know how Arin was into combat sports, right? He had been training for years—he was even looking forward to an amateur boxing career."

Rajiv nodded. He had heard something about that before. The boy head over heels over the boxing matches on TV.

"Then one night... everything changed."

Her grip on the glass tightened slightly. "Some guy—a real lowlife—tried something with me. I don't even want to remember what. But Arin saw it."

Her voice dropped lower. "And he lost it."

Rajiv sat up a little straighter. "What do you mean?"

Maya swallowed hard. "He nearly killed that man."

The kitchen felt quieter now. The warmth from the stove didn't reach as far.

"Turns out, that guy was the son of his coach. And after that night, Arin was blacklisted. He lost his place in the sport. Just like that."

Rajiv let out a slow breath. "Damn... that brat didn't even tell me about that."

Maya nodded. "I hated seeing him like that. I hated seeing him throw everything away for me. But you know what he said?"

She looked up at Rajiv, her voice tinged with guilt.

"He just smiled and said, 'You're more important to me than any of that.'"

Rajiv remained silent, letting her words settle in.

Maya exhaled, shaking her head. "And then he laughed, like it was nothing. He said, 'Besides, I've always liked tech more anyway.'"

She rubbed her arms, her voice barely above a whisper. "I still blame myself for that. If I hadn't been there that night, if I had just walked away... he wouldn't have lost something he loved."

Rajiv leaned forward, his voice firm yet gentle. "You know Arin. You know he never regretted it. He made his choice."

Maya bit her lip, nodding. She knew that. But sometimes, it still hurt.

She glanced toward Arin's workstation again, her expression softening.

"Maybe... this is his way of finding something just as important again."

WITH ARIN

"you just had to say that name" Petrov said.

The pressure on Arin's throat was unbearable. Petrov's grip was vice-like, crushing the air from his windpipe as he slammed him against the metal shelf.

Arin gasped, his vision blurring, a sharp ringing filling his ears. Petrov's face was twisted, his eyes wild with something Arin couldn't quite place—rage, fear, desperation?

He's actually trying to kill me.

Panic surged through him. With the last bit of air left in his lungs, he threw a wild right hook, aiming blindly. His fist connected with the side of Petrov's temple—hard. The force sent a jolt through his arm, and for a second, Petrov's grip loosened.

Arin didn't waste a second. He yanked himself free, coughing, sucking in air. His chest burned.

Then, without hesitation, he launched a straight punch to Petrov's nose. A sickening crack followed, and Petrov staggered back, clutching his face.

"What the hell is wrong with you!?" Arin spat, his voice hoarse. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Are you insane!? You just tried to kill me!"

Petrov didn't answer. He lowered his hands slowly, his nose bleeding, but his eyes locked onto Arin's with a dangerous intensity.

"Where did you hear that name?" Petrov's voice was low, like a growl from a wounded animal. "Nevada."

Arin froze. His mind raced.

So that's what set him off.

His muscles tensed, his breathing heavy. "...I don't know what you're talking about."

Petrov took a slow, measured step forward. "Don't play dumb with me, boy." His Russian accent grew thicker, his voice barely containing the storm beneath it. "That name is not something you just 'find' lying around."

Arin clenched his fists, trying not to let his nerves show. He could feel the tension crackling in the air, like a storm seconds before breaking loose.

Petrov was dangerous. A war veteran. A man who had likely seen and done things Arin couldn't even imagine. He knew—knew—that in a straight fight, he wouldn't stand a chance.

He needed to get out of here.

Petrov took another step forward. Arin instinctively mirrored it, staying just out of reach.

"Where did you get the pad?" Petrov demanded.

Arin swallowed hard. "Gaurav found it. In one of the collapsed government buildings."

Petrov's expression flickered.

"Bullshit."

"It's the truth." Arin kept his voice even, careful. "After the Shift, entire cities got thrown into different locations. Government bunkers, military sites—half of them ended up in places they were never meant to be. A lot of things were left buried, forgotten."

Petrov's hands curled into fists. "And you just happened to find this?"

Arin shrugged. "Like I said, Gaurav found it. I was just decrypting it."

Petrov's jaw tightened. He was on the edge. Too much tension. Too many unknowns.

Arin's eyes flicked to the pad, still sitting on the table. If he could just grab it—

The door creaked open.

Both of them snapped their heads toward the entrance.

Carter.

Shit.

The ex-CEO blinked, looking between them. "Am I interrupting something?"

That split-second distraction was all Arin needed.

With a burst of movement, he lunged.

Petrov barely had time to react before Arin's fist crashed into his cheek. The Russian grunted, stumbling back.

Arin didn't stop to see if he recovered. He snatched the pad, turned on his heels, and bolted.

"Arin, wait—!"

Carter's voice barely registered.

His feet pounded against the ground, heart hammering in his chest. He didn't know where he was running to—just away.

Away from Petrov. Away from whatever secrets had been buried in that pad.

And away from the name that had nearly cost him his life.

Nevada.

"JUST WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?, happened with him" Arin thought to himself out loud.

Arin sprinted through the dimly lit streets, his breath ragged, his heartbeat hammering against his ribs. His legs burned with exhaustion, but he couldn't stop—not now. Not with Petrov on his trail. Every shadow felt like a threat, every sound a warning. He needed somewhere safe, and only two names anchored him: Maya and Rajiv.

His home was still a few blocks away, a distant sanctuary. The events in Nevada flashed through his mind—whatever had happened there was far bigger than he had initially believed. His thoughts drifted to Rohan, to his wild theories that had once seemed like nothing more than conspiracies. Now, Arin wasn't so sure.

A memory surfaced.

Year 2027 :

They were sitting on the rooftop of their apartment complex, the city lights flickering beneath them. Rohan, ever the storyteller, leaned back with a smirk.

"I'm telling you, Arin, the incident wasn't just some freak accident. The data anomalies alone—"

Arin waved a hand, cutting him off with a chuckle. "You and your theories. Next, you'll tell me it was aliens."

Rohan grinned. "I'm just saying, if people started disappearing or weird stuff started happening, don't say I didn't warn you."

Arin rolled his eyes but smiled. The conversation had shifted after that, drifting into lighter topics. The 2028 Olympics were around the corner, and Arin had lamented his inability to afford a ticket to see the boxing matches in person.

"Guess I'll just catch the highlights later," he had sighed.

Rohan had nudged him playfully. "There's always a next time."

Present 

The memory dissolved, and reality crashed back in. There wasn't always a next time.

His chest tightened as his mind snapped to Maya. He needed to get to her.

Arin's house came into view. His sanctuary. His final burst of adrenaline kicked in, and he made a desperate dash for the door, ignoring the burning in his muscles. Safety was just a few steps away—if he could reach it in time.

Arin barged into the apartment, huffing and puffing, his body trembling from exhaustion. Rajiv and Maya were wiping down the dining table, their movements halting as they took in his rough state and the sheer terror in his eyes.

Arin collapsed onto his knees, gasping for air. Maya rushed to his side, pulling him up and sitting him down before handing him a glass of water.

"Arin, what happened?" Maya asked, concern lacing her voice.

Rajiv stepped closer, his brows furrowed in worry. "Son. What's going on?"

Arin took a long gulp of water before staggering to his feet. He walked over to the sink, splashing cold water onto his face, the chill grounding him. He gripped the edges of the counter before turning to face them.

"Petrov... he tried to kill me," he finally said, his voice still breathless.

Maya's eyes widened in shock. Rajiv's jaw tightened, his fists clenching. "What the hell? That maniac tried to kill you?" Rajiv's voice was a mix of anger and disbelief.

Arin began explaining what went down in the workshop how he had just got through the encryption and the attack on him because of some 'First contact' file

 "And what the fuck is going on with this Nevada incident?"

Arin shook his head. "I don't know. I don't understand any of this."

Maya's worry deepened, her hands gripping the edge of the table. The air in the room was thick with tension, their minds racing with unanswered questions.

Then—a sudden knock on the door.

All three of them froze.

Arin hesitated before reaching for the door handle, his fingers trembling slightly. His heart pounded in his chest as he took a slow, cautious breath. The paranoia still lingered from his encounter with Petrov, and every nerve in his body screamed at him to stay alert.

With a slow, deliberate motion, he twisted the handle and cracked the door open.

A familiar face greeted him.

"Hey, Arin," Mr. Edgar Smith, their neighbor, smiled warmly. "Sorry to bother you so late, but could I borrow some veggies? I know it's troubling, but I'll pay you back. I really need them."

Arin exhaled in relief, his muscles finally loosening. He turned his head and signaled Maya to grab some vegetables from the kitchen. "No problem, Mr. Smith. Come on in."

Mr. Smith stepped inside, rubbing his hands together as he took in the cozy apartment. "The market's brutal these days," he muttered.

Arin nodded, sitting down across from him. "Yeah, at least we're finally getting real food again. Those makeshift protein cubes were hell."

They shared a small laugh before the conversation drifted to the latest developments in space exploration. The world had changed drastically after the Shift, and space agencies were still trying to make sense of their new reality.

"You hear about that new anomaly?" Mr. Smith asked, leaning forward slightly.

Arin "I don't but I heard it is pretty bad"

 "Yeah. Scientists are saying it's unlike anything they've ever seen. A massive gravitational disturbance out near the edge of the system. No clear origin, no signs of celestial bodies nearby—just... there."

Mr. Smith scoffed. "Typical. Every time we think we've got a handle on space, something comes along to remind us how little we actually know."

"They're calling it 'The Abyssal Point,' right?" Arin said, recalling the news reports.

"Yeah. Some believe it might be a remnant of the cosmic shift—like a scar left behind from when we got pulled across the galaxy," Smith mused, rubbing his chin. "But then you've got the others. The ones who think it's something else entirely."

Arin raised an eyebrow. "The 'Gate Theory'?"

Mr. Smith nodded. "The idea that it isn't just a void, but an actual rift in space-time. Maybe something opened up during the Shift—something that was never meant to be opened."

Arin exhaled, glancing at the datapad still resting on the table. "People love making things sound more ominous than they are."

Mr. Smith chuckled. "Maybe. Or maybe some things really are as terrifying as they seem."

The conversation lingered for a moment in silence. The Abyssal Point. A vast, unexplainable phenomenon lurking at the edge of their new home. Whatever it was, it wasn't going away anytime soon.

Mr. Smith eventually took his leave, but as he reached the door, his eyes landed on something. "Hey, what's that?" He motioned toward a sleek-looking datapad on the table.

Arin quickly grabbed it and gave a nonchalant shrug. "Just some old junk I need to sort through. Nothing important."

Mr. Smith raised an eyebrow but didn't press further. "Alright, take care, kid." With that, he stepped out into the hallway.

Arin locked the door and let out another deep breath. His mind quickly shifted back to the real problem—Petrov. He needed to do something before things spiraled even further out of control.

Without wasting time, Arin grabbed his communicator and dialed Gaurav. His fingers were tense around the device, his breath still uneven from the lingering adrenaline. The line connected with a faint click, and before Gaurav could even greet him, Arin spoke.

"Listen, I need you to know something. Petrov came after me today—tried to kill me."

There was silence on the other end, followed by a sharp intake of breath. Then, a string of curses. "What the hell? Are you okay?"

Arin exhaled, forcing his voice to stay steady. "I'm fine. But this is serious. Carter was there—he saw it happen. Take him as a witness if you need confirmation, but keep this quiet for now. I don't want this spiraling out of control."

A brief pause. Gaurav was processing, thinking. When he spoke again, his voice was firm. "Alright, I'll handle it. But Arin... be careful. If Petrov's willing to go this far, he won't stop just because you got away."

"I know," Arin muttered. "That's what worries me."

"Stay safe," Gaurav said before the line went dead.

Arin lowered the communicator, staring at the dim screen for a moment before setting it down. When he turned, Maya was standing by the doorway, watching him. Her expression was unreadable at first, but the concern in her eyes was unmistakable.

"You're not telling me everything, are you?" she finally asked.

Arin sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I just... I don't want you to worry."

Maya shook her head, stepping closer. "Too late for that." Her voice was soft but firm, carrying an edge of frustration. She reached out, wrapping her arms around him, resting her forehead against his chest.

For a moment, Arin let himself relax into the warmth of her embrace, the weight of the night pressing down on him. He placed a hand on her back, his fingers gripping the fabric of her shirt as if grounding himself.

"Just promise me you'll be careful," she murmured against him.

Arin closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. "I promise."

But even as he said it, a part of him knew that staying safe wasn't an option anymore.

"I promise."

Sometime later, Maya and Rajiv went to bed. Rajiv settled in his own room while Maya curled up next to Arin, hugging him tightly. Her warmth was comforting, but his mind refused to rest.

As her breathing steadied in sleep, Arin stared at the ceiling, his thoughts drifting back to the workshop incident. The unease in his gut wouldn't go away.

Slowly, he reached for the datapad.

If he was going to get any answers, he had to start somewhere.