Awakening from his deep slumber, Solaris's eyes were slightly blurry, and his body was still stiff from the long night's rest. He slowly began to stretch his lower body, pushing his arms upward with a long, satisfying yawn that seemed to echo through the quiet stillness of the morning. The lingering warmth of sleep clung to his limbs as if reluctant to leave. After blinking a couple of times, his vision gradually sharpened, and the details of his small room began resolving into focus.
Sitting up on the thin, unsupported mattress, Solaris cautiously surveyed his surroundings, his senses on high alert. The dim morning light filtered through the grimy windowpane, casting long, dancing shadows across the sparsely furnished space. Dust floated lazily through the faint beam of light, drifting through the air as if time itself had slowed. He subtly shifted his gaze around the room, just in case any unusual occurrences or signs of disturbance had taken place during the hours of his unconsciousness. His street was locally known for not being a safe area, with break-ins happening at an increasing rate and the occasional shout or siren echoing through the night. Yet this was no cause for concern today, as nothing in the small room was out of place or appeared different.
Upon confirming his immediate safety, Solaris rose from the mattress and stepped onto the floor once more, stretching his limbs to their fullest. He stretched in such a way that his body rose slightly above his normal height, causing the joints in his legs and feet to pop before he slowly lowered himself back down again. The faint cracking of bone and muscle felt oddly satisfying after hours of stillness. Linking his fingers together, he pushed his hands toward the ceiling of the small room, his fingertips lightly grazing the sheetrock that formed its upper limit.
Having officially woken up, Solaris began his morning routine—using the restroom and brushing his teeth. The room possessed a very small bathroom with only a toilet and a sink, both worn from years of use. It lacked a shower, which was located down the hall and to the left. There were two rather large communal rooms for showers—one for the men and one for the women—used by everyone on the floor. Because of this, Solaris often chose to use it early in the morning when fewer people were awake and the halls were still mostly quiet.
After finishing those short tasks, he opened a small closet that extended from the bathroom and fished out some clean clothes before closing the door. The hinges creaked softly as it shut. He grabbed a bar of soap and a small bag for the clothes he was currently wearing. Sliding on a pair of worn shower shoes, Solaris opened the door to his room and stepped into the hallway. Walking down the hall for about three or four minutes, the faint hum of flickering overhead lights accompanied his footsteps as he eventually reached the shower quarters.
He walked to the right side of the small corridor where a sign reading "MEN" hung above the door, its paint slightly chipped from age. Pushing it open, Solaris stepped inside and took a rather quick shower to fully start his day. The water was slightly colder than he would have preferred, but it did its job. When he finished, his black hair was still quite wet, mostly because he didn't own a hair dryer. Still, that hardly mattered—as long as he was clean and awake.
While making the trek back to his room, Solaris began thinking about how lucky he was to have a place like this while barely even having to pay three-fourths of the rent. Of course, there was a reason for that.
The apartment building was thirty-four stories tall, and Solaris lived on the thirty-third floor. Within all thirty-four stories, each one had its own collection of problems—from leaky faucets and broken elevators to rumors of an entire meth lab operating somewhere in the building. Yet the main problem with the thirty-third floor quickly made itself known.
A man wearing very tattered clothes, a bottle clutched loosely in his hand, stood banging loudly on one of the doors about three rooms down from Solaris's. The sound echoed harshly down the otherwise quiet hallway. The man was known throughout the building as Daniel the Drunk. No one truly knew where he lived, and no one particularly wanted to find out. Daniel would spend nearly every day getting disgustingly drunk before wandering the halls and banging on random doors until he eventually passed out somewhere along the floor.
If someone just so happened to open the door when he was knocking, the problems that followed could be immeasurable.
Driven by a small sense of self-preservation, Solaris decided to turn the other way and go for a morning walk instead, laundry bag still in hand. Dropping down the countless flights of stairs, the dull echo of his footsteps followed him all the way to the ground floor until he eventually reached the exit and stepped outside the building.
Typically, whenever Solaris didn't have school, he went for a walk. Over time, he had formed a strange little habit: whenever he left his building and wasn't heading to school, he always turned left. It had become such a routine that he rarely even thought about it anymore.
But for some reason—something he couldn't quite explain—on this particular morning, he turned right.
Taking that first step, Solaris felt as if his body was doing something wrong, like breaking through an invisible wall that had always guided his movements. The strange sensation lingered for the first few minutes of his walk, sending a faint unease through his chest before gradually fading away as if it had never been there in the first place. Continuing down the road, his hair had now dried, and his morning routine was thoroughly disrupted the moment he spotted his school ahead in the distance.
With a strange feeling he couldn't quite explain, Solaris decided to go through the large gates. They were much less of a deterrent and more like a large arch welcoming anyone inside, as the metal portion of the gate was almost never slid closed. Seeing this, he stepped through and decided to walk through the small courtyard that had kept him so captivated the previous day.
Passing through the gates, goosebumps rose across Solaris's entire body as he walked through the opening that led into the courtyard and its greenery.
The sight greeted him with a warm glow from the sun piercing through the leaves of the large tree just in front of him. Reaching the end of the small tunnel-like passageway, the full scene revealed itself as if completing a beautiful painting that had been hidden from view. The sight was spectacular, to say the very least. The heat from the sun rested gently against his skin with a warm, comforting feeling that seemed to wash away the chill of the morning air. The grass danced softly in the wind along with the massive oak tree that sat proudly in the middle of the courtyard, its branches stretching wide across the open space. Smaller trees stood just in front of and slightly to the side of the colossal tree, almost as if they were paying silent respect to the towering giant. The scene was perfect, and for a brief moment, all his troubles faded away as he simply stood there taking it all in.
Of course, however, all good things must come crashing down.
Yet the way this collapsed was something Solaris would have never expected in a million years.
Around twenty feet to his left, an odd collection of sounds began to arise—a metal scrape, a gushing sound, a swooshing noise cutting through the air, and the faint crackle of something burning.
These sounds did not register in Solaris's mind for longer than they normally should have; his attention was utterly locked onto the peaceful sight that lay before his eyes.
Slice.
"AHHH!"
The moment shattered like glass. Spinning his head quickly to the left, Solaris finally came face-to-face with the source of the strange sounds.
The image before him was far stranger than anything he had ever seen.