The wooden door to the young man's apartment creaked as he stepped inside. Sunlight streamed in behind him, illuminating the small, simple hallway. A black backpack sat against the opposite wall, the largest pocket slightly open, revealing sage green cloth and a black clipboard.

  He slid off his shoes and walked into the bedroom. In the corner sat a twin-sized bed covered in a dark green throw blanket with three white pillows. A framed picture by the window depicted the young man with a black tuxedo shorthair cat that had a white-tipped tail perched on his shoulders.

  Beneath the picture was a bookshelf. The top row contained Space Wars novels, while the bottom contained translated Japanese light novels and manga. In a pile atop the bookshelf was a trio of study guides for Physics, Calculus, and the Air Force Officer Qualifying Test. The silver hilt of a beam saber displayed on a clear plastic stand sat beside them.

  The young man yanked down on the pull cord, flooding the room with sunlight. The shadow of the large tree outside danced on the windowsill. A squirrel skittered up the tree and disappeared into the leaves just past the roof's edge.

  He wandered into the living room, passing a simple kitchen with no door connected to the living room via a passthrough above the sink.

  Trinkets lined the passthrough: a figurine of a blue-and-orange-clad martial artist in a power-up stance, a fighter craft with X-shaped wings that had five red markings on the trailing edge, action figures of a man in a white military uniform with blue skin and a man in silver armor with a T-shaped visor, a model of the battleship USS Missouri, and finally a model of the Saturn Five rocket.

  A small table with two chairs rested beneath the passthrough, and an L-shaped desk with a gaming chair sat in the corner beside the window. On top of this desk was a dual-monitor setup with a rounded gaming pc, joystick and throttle, and a VR headset.

  Opening the blinds on the sliding door to the young man's undecorated wooden patio and the window, he saw a grassy square with a playground and a small pavilion lined with park benches. A pair of elementary-age boys chased each other around the square, holding toy beamsabers. The young man chuckled as he watched for a moment.

  He sat in his gaming chair and pressed the power button on his PC, then leaned back into the soft cushions and raised his arms above his head in a long yawn.

  The blanket the young man had wrapped around himself slid off his right shoulder as he lowered his arms. He tucked it around his body with his other hand, allowing the warm, plush fabric to pleasantly consume him.

  “Tired, Alex?” A friendly voice asked.

  The young man turned to look at him, his eyes half open. “I told you we shouldn’t play this late Flynn.”

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “I know, I know,” his friend replied from behind a DM screen featuring the image of a twenty-sided dice with a sword on one side and a shield on the other. He was around Alex's height and build but had brilliant emerald eyes and dirty blond hair combed neatly to the side. He wore a white button-down shirt with a vibrant green tie loosely hung around his neck. A black suit jacket was slung over the back of his chair while a golden watch sparked on his wrist.

  “I’m about done, too.” A second man said across the table from Alex with a map of a wintery forest laid across it, upon which sat several miniature figures. He was a few inches shorter than Alex but had shoulder-length dark brown hair tied into a ponytail that accented his deep brown eyes. A basic grey pullover hoodie hid his wiry build, making his head appear somewhat small.

  “Okay, how about you, Patrick?” Flynn gestured across the table from himself to a third man.

  “Same as Matt,” The man explained as he started to pick up the collection of dice strewn about the table and place them into a pouch. He had short, well-kept hair with a streak of white that made him seem older and a scraggly but well-kept beard. A pair of aviator glasses were clipped to the collar of the unzipped black leather jacket with red highlights he wore over a white V-neck T-shirt.

  Flynn sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Alright... we’ll pick this up next week.” His notebook shut with a sharp slap as he stood.

  “Have a good night, guys,” Alex said with a tired smile as he slung his blanket over the back of the chair. A mix of goodbyes followed him as he opened the door and stepped into the night.

  Long shadows cast over him as Alex walked up a small flight of stairs to the landing on the first floor of a small grey building. As he walked through the door, he removed the blue flight cap from his head and placed it back in his right calf pocket. He walked up the main stairwell to the second floor.

  At the top of the stairs was a mirror with marker-written text that read: Check yourself before you wreck yourself. Alex paused and looked himself over. His coyote brown boots were smudged with grease, and his green flight suit bore four patches: his nameplate on the left side of his chest, the Air Combat Command shield on the right, his squadron’s emblem on his right shoulder, and an American flag patch opposite it.

  His slightly above-average height and toned build gave him a gentle presence. Chesnut brown hair accented vibrant aquamarine eyes giving him a youthful air. He reached up a hand and rubbed his chin, his hand sliding across a clean-shaven face.

  With a nod, he turned and entered a long hallway with hardwood floors and a purple stripe running along the wall at roughly waist height. He ducked into a door on the right and entered a large room divided into sections by cubical dividers. A printed paper sign labeled Current Operations was tacked to one of the walls, with an arrow pointing to the left.

  He followed it into one of the sections. A large table sat in the center while desks lined the walls. Three individuals, dressed in the same way as Alex, were scattered around the room. On the left wall was a large flat-screen TV displaying a movie featuring a pair of fighter jets in a dogfight.

  “Morning, Stevens.” A man said as Alex walked into the office. “How was your tabletop game yesterday?”

  “Oh, it was great,” Alex smiled as he grabbed a water bottle similar to the one in his bedroom sitting on his desk. He began to turn around to lean against his chair. “We just started a fight against a frost…”

  A brilliant blue glowing circle formed above Alex’s head in less than a moment, falling towards the ground faster than a blink. His body disappeared as it fell past him with the sound of crashing thunder. It hit the ground with a burst of light, burning a circle onto the carpet before it vanished as quickly as it formed.