ENTRY_log.15 – Quiet Roofside Coffee

For once, Nox had slept well. It wasn't every day he got to relax, his dreams filled with the rush of the rides, the wind in his fur, his friends' chatter and laughter in the background. But regardless of all the joy, something was ... off. A shadow lingering in the crowd, watching him. The Protogen – he whispered in its robotic voice, "I am 2739." Nox's ears twitched as he spotted the figure, its glowing details unmistakable even in the sea of people. But just as he recognized it. It was gone. Vanished in the blink of an eye.

The next morning, he woke up late.

"Uaghh… wha—what time is it?"

Mumbling groggily, still half-asleep, he cracked open one eye to glance at his wristwatch.

"12:30?! Damn it, I gotta get up!"

Despite the rush, he inhaled deeply, savoring the lingering comfort of his bed before finally dragging himself out.

The city was already alive and in motion. Through the thin walls and open window, the usual urban symphony played,

chatter from the streets, the hum of trains and buses, the relentless pulse of Coreline's daily grind.

Still rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Nox stumbled toward the kitchen. His barely functioning coffee machine stood there, like a battle-worn soldier, its final days written all over a stained and rusted exterior.

"Okay, buddy, don't leave me today. One final time as always!"

With the delicate precision of a bomb technician, he carefully filled up the machine, treating it as if one wrong move could make it explode.

It hissed in exhaustion. Not much coffee came out, but it was enough.

"Alright, done. Now I just need a mug, please don't tell me I have to do dishes..."

Standing on his toes, he reached for the kitchen cabinet, feeling around blindly. To his relief, there were two mugs left:

One was cheap white and featured a clown with a big red nose, sarcastically clutching his face beneath the words: "Monday Again?"

The other was a black one, featuring the word "Coreline" printed across a skyline. Though, honestly, Nox wasn't sure if this city even had an end from which to view a skyline.

With a smirk, he instinctively grabbed the clown mug.

"Every day is Monday for me, but at least I've got my coffee."

As he waited for the machine to finish, he pulled out his phone, quickly swiping away the barrage of ads flooding his screen.

Some of them read:

"OUT! AD-BLOCKER BLOCKS ADS LIKE THESE FOR ONLY 14.99 C PER MONTH!"

or

"Are you lonely? Find animals like you all around Coreline! They're just waiting for you!"

In Coreline, you could rent a phone for half the price - if you agreed to enhanced advertisement.

one of them read

"Unidentified male found deceased in Crossway Sector R3. Cause of death: gunshot to the head. No witnesses. Surveillance corrupted and key evidence lost during a late night active Flush sequence. Investigation suspended pending further leads."

He grumbled under his breath, aggressively X-ing the ads away, until he accidentally clicked on one.

"Drugged squirrel causes malfunction in CoreCoaster Teacup attraction. 4 injured. 1 young fox dead."

A cold breeze ran down his back.

"They said no dead people… I—I couldn't help that poor guy..." His voice cracked as he clenched the bridge of his muzzle.

"One good thing´s gotta count for something, right....?" He shook his head, as if trying to shake the thought off.

Once the invasive corporate harassment was cleared, he finally checked his messages.

Zee 00:15: "Are you home yet?"

Chet 11:15: "Meet at the junkyard at 13:45?"

Nox quickly typed back:

Nox 12:35: "Sounds good to me! While we're there, maybe we can find another coffee machine for me.

The one I got last time's been on the edge for weeks, every day could be its last. And with that, my life is in its hands."

He hit send, letting out a chuckle as he turned toward the mess that was his apartment floor. He pulled on his wine-red T-shirt and looked around for the rest of his fit.

"I actually kinda liked that outfit. Where did that damn hat go? Ah, there it is."

Plopping the hat back on his head, he turned toward the coffee maker just as it let out a strained, final hiss. The coffee was done. Mug in hand, he took a sip, staring out the window. It was still slightly wet, due to a flush yesterday night.

"Why not enjoy this outside?"

Slowly, he climbed through the window, coffee still steady in his paws.

"Careful now… don't wanna spill anything."

The misty air of Coreline greeted him with its usual stench of morning. Not that it was much different from the stuffy air inside his apartment. It was fresher, slightly cleaner. Since it just flushed, the air smelled wet.

He settled onto the shaky sheet-metal roof, his legs dangling back and forth as he scanned the street below.

The usual morning rush was in full swing.

Suits and briefcases, corporate workers, lawyers, or as Nox liked to call them, slaves to the system. Heavyset figures in thick work uniforms, construction workers, waste disposal teams, laborers

trudging off for another long shift.

Nox took a slow sip of his coffee. The steam was weak. It was a small rare moment of silence ,for once, it was nice.

His ears twitched as he heard Heavy boots against the wet floor. Regulated breathing. The quiet hiss of reinforced suits steaming. A group of Enforcers passed below on the sheet metal walkway, their visors glowing dull red. Just a patrol that pretended to care for the safety of its people. No one said a word.

Just the sound of steel steps and authority moving like it owned the city. Nox stayed perfectly still, mug halfway to his mouth. They didn't look up.

They never did. Perhaps they didn't bother to. He watched them vanish around a corner, always the same corner.

"Good," he muttered. "Keep walking that way, makes you more predictable."

The hiss of a bus arriving, passengers shuffling in and out like clockwork. Down below, Luten's tea shop was already open, the old salamander serving customers with his usual patience. Business wasn't exactly booming, but it was enough. Nox took another sip of his coffee, exhaling.

"Lucky me."

He wasn't part of the system. He didn't have a boss breathing down his neck, no rigid schedule dictating his every move. Although that wasn't completely the truth.

But as he stared down at the people below, he couldn't shake the thought:

Would it really have been so bad to fit in somewhere? To belong?

The last drop of coffee vanished from his mug.

Checking his watch again, 12:55.

"Alright… time to get going."

His mind briefly drifted back to last night. CoreCoaster.

Laughter, chaos, and unexpected kindness.

Shaking off the thoughts, he crawled back inside, dressed up in his coat and scarf, pulled on his boots, and placed the mug somewhere he'd probably regret later.

With a final stretch, he stepped outside. Time to meet Chet.