Nine
Kip Halvern sat slumped on a rickety stool in his cramped workshop, the buzz of neon lights mixing with the clutter of gadgets around him. His hands, usually busy and confident, idly turned a worn screwdriver, his thoughts drifting simpler, better times.
Jax had been different lately, talking about the Ascendants. Kip didn't quite get all that stuff about the universe and enlightenment. He just noticed the way Jax's eyes didn't quite seem to see him anymore, like they were looking at something far away. “Just meetings, Kip, they got this way of seeing things,” Jax had said with a strange kind of excitement in his voice last time they spoke. He just longed for the days when it was all about the next hustle, the next laugh over cheap drinks at their spot.
With a sigh, Kip dropped the screwdriver onto his workbench, the noise louder than he expected in the quiet room. The workshop felt lonely without Jax, his usual chair by the dusty window now just sitting there, empty. He shook his head a bit, trying to get rid of the heavy feeling that seemed to sit on his chest these days. He exhaled slowly, his eyes wandering over the scattered projects, remnants of shared dreams. It felt like more than his friend was slipping away. His little corner of the world, their world, seemed to be fading, and he didn't know how to hold on to it. He knew there was something not right about the Ascendants. He’d heard whispers, people calling them a cult, traitors, all kinds of bad stuff.
He got up and left his workshop, his destination a small dwelling on the outskirts of the market district, where he had a job fixing a malfunctioning home energy converter. The streets of Eclipsis were alive with chatter, the whirr of drones and cars, and the ever-present glow of neon advertisements.
Kip made his way through the busy streets, offering nods to people he recognized. He liked the smells here, the spicy scents from food stalls mixing with that sharp, zingy smell that always hung in the air. It was just how Eclipsis smelled, a bit like those old batteries he used to tinker with.
At the client's dwelling, Kip set to work. His client, a chatty shadow-dweller named Mara, hovered nearby, making erratic small talk like the shadow-dwellers do.Their conversation was disjointed, and Kip found it hard to follow, only responding with grunts and nods, his mind still preoccupied with thoughts of Jax.
Finishing up, he accepted a modest payment and made his way back through the neon-lit streets to his workshop.
Upon returning to his workshop, Kip found the door slightly ajar. Pushing it open, he was surprised to see Jax sitting there, his figure barely visible in the dim light. Jax looked up, his eyes distant and unfocused.
"Jax?!" Kip asked, a mix of relief and concern in his voice. It had been at least five cycles since he’d seen his friend.
Jax stood up slowly, his movements deliberate. "I needed to see you, Kip. Before I fulfill my new purpose."
Kip frowned, a sense of unease growing inside him. "What do you mean? Where you goin?"
Jax's gaze was distant, as if he was looking at something far beyond the walls of the workshop. "I've found my path, Kip. It's something... beyond all this," he gestured vaguely at the cluttered room. "I wish you could see it, Kip."
Before Kip could respond, Jax turned and walked out of the workshop, leaving him standing alone again. He reached out, as if to call him back, but the words caught in his throat. He watched the door swing shut, a hollow feeling settling in his chest. That night, he didn't sleep. He just sat there, staring at the closed door, wondering if he'd ever see his friend again.
