(General POV)
RING! RING!
The sharp tone of the alarm broke the peaceful silence of a neatly arranged medium-sized bedroom. It wasn't particularly fancy or rich in aesthetics—but it was clean, functional, and smelled faintly of pine-scented wood polish. The digital clock blinked 5:00 A.M., its crimson glow faint in the dimly lit room.
"Good morning to the world," Zayne muttered in a soft tone, his voice slightly raspy from just waking up.
His face looked dazed, like someone who had just emerged from a dream they couldn't remember. But his eyes were still sharp, a silent reflection of someone who never truly let his guard down.
He swung his legs off the bed, stood up with a quiet stretch, and moved with fluid discipline.
Into the bathroom he went.
Water splashed.
Toothbrush worked.
Teeth—gleamed.
He stared at the mirror and let out a soft chuckle.
"Yup. I'm handsome."
It wasn't vanity. It was just…fact. High cheekbones, sharp jawline, symmetrical face, skin that always seemed to glow faintly no matter the time of day. He looked like the main character of a sci-fi k-drama—but still grounded in reality. He had the face of someone who'd lived through things.
Once he was done, he came out, made his bed with surgical precision, tucked the corners perfectly, and rolled the blanket with the formality of a military man. Then he pulled out a small handheld vacuum cleaner and began the daily routine.
The humming filled the room. No music. No distractions. Just the constant, soft purr of the vacuum. The air was still. Peaceful.
This morning silence was a kind of therapy to Zayne. A ritual. One of the few things he could control in a life that was otherwise full of chaos and cosmic-level headaches.
By the time he was done, the time read 6:30 A.M.
He changed into his gym clothes—black joggers, sleeveless compression shirt, lightweight runners. He packed his post-workout protein blend in a bottle, locked his door tight, and stepped outside.
The air was cool and damp. The kind of air that tasted clean on your tongue. The sun had just started to rise, casting faint orange streaks across the horizon. The streets were almost deserted—except for a few newspaper vendors and old men sweeping their porches.
Zayne inhaled deeply, letting the oxygen fill his lungs.
"Silent mornings like this… make this chaotic universe quite normal," he thought with a relaxed smile.
He cracked his neck. Rolled his shoulders.
Then—motion.
His feet struck the pavement. Each step was precise. Each motion, smooth and powerful. He wasn't just jogging—he was flowing. His legs moved like pistons, calves contracting rhythmically, spine upright, pace consistent.
He didn't hold back. After all, he had superhuman strength now. No point babying it.
Besides, he had someone to honor.
David Goggins.
Who else was going to carry the boat of this universe?
Zayne smirked. "Me. Obviously."
But as he passed a familiar park bend—he saw a blur of motion to his left.
Someone else was jogging.
Slim frame, blonde ponytail, graceful form despite the sweat that lined her temple.
It was Kira.
She noticed him too—and visibly blinked in surprise.
"Zayne?" she said between short breaths. "Didn't expect to see you out here."
He gave a casual nod. "Morning."
Kira smiled faintly, slowing her pace to match his. "I always see you running around this time. First time you've actually said hi, though."
That last sentence wasn't said aloud—but it echoed in her head, clear as crystal. She'd seen him countless times, day after day, running with military discipline. Always focused. Always quiet. Like a machine made of flesh and drive.
Yet this time…he spoke.
"Early runs keep the mind sharp," Zayne said with a half-shrug. "And the world feels less stupid before 7 A.M."
Kira let out a soft chuckle. "Yeah. The world does get more stupid after 7."
They jogged side by side in silence for a bit. A comfortable rhythm.
Then Zayne asked, "You heading to the gym after this?"
She nodded. "Yeah. Gonna do some lifting and maybe hit the treadmill after."
"Wanna go together then?" he offered casually.
Kira blinked again, surprised by the offer. "Sure."
--- ✦ ---
(Later, at the Gym – 7:15 AM to 10:00 AM)
They trained hard.
Zayne kept his weight sessions efficient—bench, squat, deadlift, pull-ups, clean reps. Meanwhile, Kira focused more on her balance, form, and bodyweight training. Occasionally, they exchanged tips. Zayne corrected her squat posture once. Kira teased him for not stretching enough.
Time flew fast. By 10:00 AM, both of them were drenched in sweat and laughing about Dustin's awful gym playlist choices the other day.
They stepped outside the gym and found a shaded bench under a tree. Cool breeze, warm sun. The world felt just right.
Kira sipped her bottled water, letting out a long breath. Then she spoke softly.
"You know, sometimes I wish I was more like you."
Zayne looked at her, brow slightly raised.
"You've got everything," she continued. "Smart. Handsome. Charismatic. And… you look like someone who's completely free. Like… you don't have to answer to anyone's expectations."
Zayne listened in silence.
But inside?
"Hahaha. Expectation-free? I've got the entire multiverse waiting for me to save it from imploding. If only you knew…"
Still, he didn't say that.
Instead, he just watched her as she opened up—talking about herself, her struggles, how people sometimes expect her to be the "cool one", the "chill girl", the "rockstar rebel." But she wasn't always that. Sometimes she just wanted to scream. Sometimes she wanted to disappear. And sometimes, she just wanted to… feel normal.
When she finally stopped talking, she looked at him, eyes uncertain.
"…So…what should I do?"
Zayne leaned forward a bit.
"Don't lose yourself trying to meet everyone else's expectations," he said calmly. "If you wear too many masks, one day you'll forget what your real face looks like."
Kira blinked.
He continued, "Do what makes you feel real. If music helps, use it. If silence helps, embrace it. Whatever keeps you whole…chase that. Not approval."
Kira stared at him.
And then—before either of them could process it—she hugged him.
A tight, reflexive gesture. Natural. Raw.
Her arms wrapped around his torso. She buried her face for half a second.
Then…
"…!!"
Both froze.
Kira pulled back, eyes wide, cheeks red.
Zayne coughed twice and looked away, scratching the back of his neck.
"…Ahem."
Kira stood up too quickly. "I—I should go! Thanks for… y'know…everything."
Zayne gave a subtle nod. "No problem."
They walked off in separate directions.
No words.
Just silence—and a lot of thoughts.
--- ✦ ---
(Later, at Zayne's Home)
The door closed with a gentle click behind him. He stepped in and sighed, towel slung over his shoulder.
His body was hardly strained from the intense workout at the gym. And his mind? Clear.
"Would I need to create some kind of gravity chamber for real strength building?" He thought to himself
"Meh, I'll worry about that later." He affirmed
He walked into the bathroom, took a long, refreshing bath. The steam, the water, the scent of his sandalwood body wash—it all made him feel grounded.
After the bath, he stepped out with a towel around his waist. Changed into freshly washed, crisp clothes—black jeans, plain fitted tee, clean white sneakers.
He stood in front of the mirror once more and said…
"It's time for the base operations."
--- ✦ ---
Yes, this chapter was a therapeutic and calming experience to write. A slice of life. The next chapter will focus on the Base construction.
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