Kill the Sun Chapter 2 - 2 – The Sign

A youth wandered through the bustling but filthy streets of the city.

Although it was two in the morning, the sun remained high in the sky, radiating its light.

The sunshine was eternal.

There was never a single second when it ceased its glow.

For millennia, this had been the reality, and it was expected to remain so for thousands of years to come.

The sun hung perfectly centered in the heavens, appearing to be positioned directly above the walking young man.

Strangely, despite being at its zenith, the light was not blinding or intense; instead, it was muted, casting a hue of orange and yellow over the world.

To the inhabitants of Crimson Fungus City, it was currently the middle of the night. However, "night" was merely a term used to describe the period between 10 pm and 6 am. It had no connection to the sun's position or state, as the celestial body remained entirely static.

Most citizens utilized the nighttime for sleep. While the origins of this habit were unknown, the social convention was followed by almost everyone because it was what their ancestors had always done.

A few eccentric individuals claimed that the reason people slept at night was that, in the ancient past, the sun used to perform an action called "setting."

Naturally, such ideas were dismissed as foolish.

How could the sun possibly move fast enough to orbit the Earth?

By what mechanism would it move at all?

The concept defied logic.

Continuing his journey, the young man observed several grimy, rusted pipes emerging from the earth and snaking up the dilapidated, stained walls of the buildings.

The city's ground was jagged and uneven, comprised of rough stone on one side and rusted metal grates on the other, which looked down into the deep subterranean levels.

A thick stench of oil and gas hung over these "streets," though the locals had long since become desensitized to the smell.

CRACK!

Suddenly, a grate gave way beneath the young man’s feet, and he began to plummet downward.

Reacting purely on instinct, he threw out his arms and gripped the surrounding grates, halting his descent.

He inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly before hauling himself back up to the surface.

Once he regained his footing, he scanned the street for something specific.

He spotted a small group of gaunt individuals seated by the roadside, engaged in conversation. The area was quiet, as few people ventured out during the night.

“Hey, do you know where I could find a large sheet of metal?” the young man, whose name was Nick, questioned the group.

Two years had passed since Nick's encounter with the "scholar," and he was now sixteen years old.

The scholar had explained the nature of his power and spent several days teaching him various things.

Nick now stood approximately 180cm tall, a height that was considered massive for a resident of the Dregs. The poor quality of available food usually stunted the growth of most people.

His frame was also quite muscular, which gave him a formidable presence.

The group frowned as they looked him over, clearly unnerved by his large build. “What are you looking for?” an older woman in the group asked, her voice laced with suspicion.

“I just told you,” Nick replied, scratching the side of his head. “I’m just looking for a metal sheet.”

“What for?” the woman demanded, sounding irritated.

Nick simply gestured toward the broken grate with his thumb.

The members of the group traded glances.

“You’re planning to fix the hole?” the older woman asked, her tone skeptical.

Nick nodded. “I’m strong enough to catch myself and climb out. Others might not be,” he explained.

The woman’s skepticism deepened. “And you actually care about that?”

Nick scratched the back of his head. “Well, I’m the one who broke it. So, I should be the one to fix it,” he said with a shrug.

The group looked at each other once more.

Eventually, the older woman pointed toward a house located at the edge of the street.

The structure was little more than a ruin. A third of the building had collapsed, and every piece of metal was covered in thick rust.

Metal was abundant in the city; whatever the wealthy districts discarded eventually trickled down to the Dregs.

This was the reason why almost every dwelling in this area was constructed from salvaged, rusted metal.

“The person living there said it two days ago,” the woman remarked, her voice devoid of emotion.

Nick nodded. He understood what "saying it" implied.

It was a euphemism for someone taking their own life through a specific ritual.

“Thanks,” Nick said, heading toward the abandoned house.

After searching for a moment, he found a metal plate roughly two meters wide and long and began to tug on it.

Unfortunately, the person who built the house seemed terrified of it falling down, as every part had been welded together firmly.

Nick struggled for a bit, but the plate only vibrated and emitted sharp creaks.

Sighing, Nick glanced around to ensure no one was watching.

He stepped inside the ruin, hidden from public view.

BANG!

A massive dent formed in the metal sheet.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

After four powerful strikes, the plate was torn from the structure and tumbled onto the ground outside as Nick stepped through the newly made opening.

The eyes of the group watching from the street widened in disbelief.

They had guessed he was strong because of his size, but this was far beyond their expectations.

Just how much strength was required to dent a metal plate of that size?

It wasn't incredibly thick, but it was still solid metal!

Nick began dragging the heavy plate across the street with visible effort, which only served to further confuse the onlookers.

The man had just punched through the wall, yet he seemed to be struggling to carry the piece?!

It made no sense to them.

A few moments later, Nick positioned the plate over the broken grate and wiped the perspiration from his brow.

He stepped onto the metal and hopped a few times. It groaned under his weight, but it didn't budge.

If it could support Nick jumping on it, any ordinary person could walk over it safely.

Satisfied, Nick nodded and continued down the street.

He gave a small wave to the group as he walked away.

“Oh! I remember who he is now!” one of the younger men in the group exclaimed a few seconds later.

The others turned to him. “You recognize him?”

The young man nodded. “He’s that strange guy from the marketplace.”

“The strange guy?” another person asked uncertainly. “Oh, you mean the one who sits with a sign all day?”

“That’s the one,” the man confirmed with a nod. “I didn’t realize it was him because he looks so much smaller when he’s sitting down.”

The others raised their eyebrows as realization dawned on them.

They looked back at the ruined house, finally understanding the situation.

That explained how he possessed the strength to tear through metal.

“So that means he has an attuned Zephyx Synchronizer, right?”

The others nodded in agreement. “According to his sign, he does.”

The older woman in the group stared at the new metal sheet in the middle of the road.

“You know, if more people followed his lead and repaired what they broke, the Dregs wouldn’t be such a hellhole,” she remarked.

Nick continued his trek and reached a large plaza several minutes later.

Unlike the narrow streets, the plaza was paved mostly with stone, and the surrounding walls were relatively clean.

Nick spotted several merchants standing by wagons loaded with goods.

Because it was nighttime, only the most desperate or the most affluent merchants were active.

The poorest sold at night to avoid competition, while the wealthiest could afford to pay staff to keep their businesses running twenty-four hours a day.

The remaining 80% of shops operated only during the standard hours of 6 am to 10 pm.

Nick crossed the plaza until he reached the widest thoroughfare in the Dregs.

This road served as one of the main paths to an exit of Crimson Fungus City.

At the intersection of the plaza and the road, Nick stopped and moved to the side.

He sat down, pulled out a rolled-up piece of cardboard, and unfurled it before attaching it to a metal rod he had brought along.

Finally, Nick raised his sign and settled in to wait.

“Zephyx Extractor looking for work!”

Then, he waited.