Arkan. A city that has undergone relatively few changes since the Great Consolidation. When the city began to be updated to government standards, some citizens refused to undergo reconstruction and decided to preserve the past in one way or another. Therefore, it is still possible to find old brick buildings, parks, and streets within it.
The center was modernized. The buildings became composed of glass and metal, like in other cities, but much of it retained elements of the old times. One of the attractions drawing tourists from other cities and regions was the Arkan Ring a ten-meter stone structure located in the heart of the city. It is unknown who built it and when, but it has become a beloved tourist spot in the seventh district, though it cannot compare to the Clear Lakes. The city attracted with its old-world atmosphere that still reigned in its streets. Moreover, life on the street of bars never quieted down, day or night.
One of those bars "The Infinite Shot" had become a favorite spot for students living in the Fracture Compound. Any evening of any day, several students would spend their stipends there. Unlike the alcohol at this bar, their funds were not so ample, but that did not stop them from enjoying the soft music and each other's company.
That evening, another group of residents from the majestic Compound, located just thirty minutes from the city, arrived at this bar. The brick two-story building was situated on one of the streets by the park, where, for the past few years, the "Reservoir" had been rising to the heavens.
The Reservoir represented a rectangular structure with cutouts in several places. These cutouts were used by the cooling system, but once activated, they would begin to glow. A larger version, known as the Father, was installed above the Fracture Machine.
In less than an hour, the Archon would give the order to activate this Reservoir, and then the countdown would begin for when John and the other Wanderers would set out on their journey.
Alexa opened the bar door and stepped inside first. A few tables were already occupied by tourists, but most places remained free. The bartender greeted her with a raised hand. The Wanderers nodded back and took a table by the window, from which the Reservoir was visible.
The guys and girls ordered several glasses of champagne, to avoid mixing, and discussed their future plans, sharing visions of the worlds to come. Samantha, as before, was silent, only occasionally lifting her glass and taking a few sips. James and Alexa, in turn, ordered one after another filled-to-the-brim glasses of standard, unrefined champagne.
Half an hour had passed since the Wanderers entered "The Infinite Shot." James and Alexa had each drunk four glasses. Samantha only one. John had not yet finished. Due to the alcohol consumed, most of the Wanderers were already tipsy and wanted to go to bed sooner rather than later. James and Alexa had passed the stage where alcohol provided a cheerful effect. The gates to the realm of Morpheus began to open.
"Soon the Reservoirs will be activated. Just a little longer," Alexa said, gazing at the Reservoir. It awaited the Archon's command. "Do you think we'll hear a hum when it's activated?"
"There will definitely be no hum," Samantha replied, "but the lights will probably go out. Energy recalibration and load on the energy grid."
"In the dark of night..." James began, but forgot what he wanted to say.
"It will look beautiful," Alexa clarified, "the darkness. And the Reservoir lighting up the dark streets."
"That won't last long. A couple of minutes," Samantha said.
Time went by, and with just a little left until activation, Samantha suggested everyone head to their rooms. Two Wanderers agreed, but the next morning they would hardly remember their agreement. John, however, decided to stay in "The Infinite Shot" a little longer.
When James, Alexa, and Samantha left the establishment, along with the other tourists, John found himself the only guest in the bar. Only a girl in a blue hoodie periodically approached the bartender, ordering one glass of the cheapest beer after another.
"Another one," the girl's red hair fluttered slightly from the airflow of the air conditioner.
"Are you sure?" the bartender looked at her. "You can barely stand."
"But I'm still standing," the visitor leaned on the bar. "I have money, you have beer... do you feel the connection?"
"Last one," the bartender handed the girl a full glass of the alcohol she craved.
The girl slowly made her way to a table, trying not to spill her drink, and collapsed onto the couch. For some reason, John did not feel much like leaving this place. A small television from the old world hung in the corner of the bar. It looked like a black box with glass in front. Amazing that it was still working. No one remembered when parts for these TVs stopped being produced. Even just before the Consolidation, the first holographic systems were created, which are now used everywhere.
Due to the music, he could not hear what the girl was saying, but John knew it was Ioanna, and right now she was showing the world the moment when the countdown would begin, and the clock would tick down the minutes and seconds to a breakthrough in science.
John left his table and approached the bartender. The bearded man saw the Wanderer approaching and raised both hands. This seemed strange to John, but he was not surprised. Many strange things can happen in a place like this.
"What will you have?" the bartender was cheerful despite the end of his workday. John did not know how many hours he had worked, but it was certainly not eight or nine. Strangely enough, the bar was open during the day. And still, there were visitors.
"Hmm," the Wanderer pondered. He did not know what he would drink "whiskey?"
"Oh, no-no," the bartender shook his head, "I wouldn't recommend it. Yesterday, a girl celebrated her appointment to the capital and drank too much. She ended up in the hospital. I can't say she went there because of the large amount of alcohol. Maybe due to the quality of the whiskey. So I don't recommend taking that risk."
"What then?" John asked, pondering the quality of the alcohol in the bar.
The bartender frowned.
I can give you vodka."
"Vodka?"
"I can add blueberry syrup to soften the taste."
"I've never had vodka," that was true.
"Well, then, it's your first time." The man took a glass and set a vodka bottle next to it.
"By the way, what's your name?"
"I'm Patrick."
"John. John Brooks," they shook hands.
"Have I seen you somewhere before?" Patrick tried to remember.
"I come here often," Jonathan replied.
"No," the bartender slowly drawled. "Ah!" he slapped the bar. "The Wanderer!"
"Oh," John sighed. "You're talking about that."
"And what's it like being a Wanderer, John?" Patrick poured vodka into the glass and took out a small jar of blueberry syrup.
"I can't describe it," at that moment, Ioanna Averino appeared on the screen again, saying something. "Do you see her?"
"Very cute," Patrick turned to look at the screen.
"My sister..." the friendly smile vanished from John's face, a small shard of pain from the separation pierced somewhere deep in his soul, causing him pain.
"Oh," Patrick exhaled. "It must be tough to part like that?"
"Insanely so," John glanced at the bartender.
"Then why a Wanderer?" Patrick asked, mixing the blueberry syrup with vodka in the glass. "You could have become a seeker here. Expeditions are constantly sent to the far corners of the country."
"I can't say for sure. I just felt it was mine," John dropped his hands, and the bartender squinted.
"You know," Patrick continued, "I'm reading a book written before the Consolidation..."
"Wow, do such books still exist?" John interrupted, astonished. He had seen a paper book written in the old world only once during a school trip to a museum. Yes, paper notebooks are still used by classic fans like Samantha, but most of the data has long been transferred to digital space.
"Yes, that very one," the bartender nodded, opening the ice refrigerator. "And in it, the main character is running."
"Where to?" the Wanderer asked.
"From where?" the bartender corrected. "He's running from himself and his life. He doesn't care where he ends up; the main thing is to get away from where he was."
"Heh," John smirked, realizing where Patrick was going with this.
"And was he able to do it?"
"I don't know; I just started," the bartender replied, tossing in some ice cubes. "You never know how a book will end until you read the last sentence. But the question is interesting. What do you think, John, can the main character escape from himself?"
"I believe in that," the guest replied, taking his drink. "Perhaps during the escape, he will change, and then he really can run away from himself, because..."
The lights in the bar suddenly went out, and John turned to the window to look at the other houses, but it was dark there too. He didn't like the dark. He hated the night. Only at night, in the dark, memories would rise from the silent depths. They would rise to the surface, grab Jonathan, and try to pull him down to where there was no way back. Every night, John would either hide from them or fight. This happened so often and for so long that it became part of his bedtime ritual. Only by overcoming his own thoughts could John enter the dream world, where Morpheus awaited him.
And then the past began to stretch its rotting hand toward John again. Something was approaching him from behind, and it felt like something was reaching out to him, trying to touch him. He felt the cold behind him. The cold of the past began to envelop him, trying to consume the Wanderer. John turned sharply, peering into the darkness, waiting for a bony hand to crawl out and crack its fingers. His hands felt so cold that it seemed they were covered in an icy shell. Sensitivity in the tips of his fingers began to fade. John understood he needed to confront this fear. Although it was no longer fear. It was anxiety. Anxiety that the old walls would collapse, and John would return to that night. The night when death touched him, when death grabbed him by the shoulder, the night he saw her face. The tremor in his hands became more pronounced, and his breathing grew heavy.
The light came on again, and the music started playing once more. John breathed heavily as the television turned back on, and everyone on the screen was celebrating. The Archon gave the order, and the Reservoirs were activated. The countdown began.
"Are you okay?" Patrick asked.
"Yeah," John said quietly. "Just thought I saw something."
"Are you sure about that?" the bartender asked again.
Yeah, absolutely," John forced a smile. "Thanks," and headed to his table. The Wanderer's steps were slow, as if he were walking on fragile ice that might crack at any moment, and the young man would fall into darkness along with the floor.
"Hey, John," the bartender called out to him. He turned around.
"Good luck; find what you're looking for."
The Wanderer nodded in response, but his heart continued to beat so hard it could break his ribs from the inside at any moment. John took his seat, drank the vodka almost in one gulp, and looked out the window. In the park, the Reservoir was already activated. A soft blue glow filled it from within. Energy was accumulating.
John got up; his head was starting to spin a little. He walked to the door and turned around Patrick was gone. "Probably went to the stockroom," John thought. He left the bar and headed to the tram station that ran between Arkan and the Fracture Compound. After waiting for more than forty minutes, he finally got on. The tram doors slammed shut, and it began to move. It took about forty minutes to ride from Arkan to the Compound, but the alcohol was taking effect, and John could barely blink a few times before the tram arrived at its destination.
The guy stood up; his legs began to give out on him as he stepped off at the station. The tram quietly began its circuit again. John looked up and saw the stars. Bright stars, their clusters illuminating the lands of the Consolidated Nation that night. Jonathan slowly walked toward the main entrance of the Fracture Tower, where his room was located on the upper floors. He entered the elevator just as slowly and exited on his floor. He touched the door of his room with his palm and was finally home. After taking off his clothes and shoes, as well as his underwear, he fell onto his bed. He knew thoughts of the past would not let him sleep, so he used a method a psychologist had taught him when he was a child.
"Ten," John said aloud. "Nine," he said to himself. "Eight..."
And so he counted down to zero, then said aloud the last thing he had said that night while conscious: "Sleep." He fell through the thickness of the walls, thoughts, through his own mind, and dropped into the endless ocean of himself. He knew that falling into the ocean was still not enough. He began to swim down, deeper and deeper into the darkness. He knew that at the very bottom were the gates to Morpheus's realm and that Morpheus awaited Jonathan, for he appeared in his realm very rarely. Finally, he saw light at the very bottom of the ocean of madness. This was the exit a way to leave reality. He touched the sand with his palm and resurfaced, finding himself in his dreams. That night passed peacefully and calmly. John enjoyed the images that Morpheus showed him. Dreams. The dreams were beautiful. It was the last peaceful night.