The Extra-dimensional Pioneer Of Fiction [Draft]

[Ataraxis Highway lane]

The hovercar hummed quietly as it glided through the air toward the residential district, the city lights stretching endlessly below like a vast, glowing circuit board. Arlo leaned back against the seat, his head resting against the cool window.

The events at Aerith Tower played on repeat in his mind, like a bad highlight reel he couldn't turn off.

His Danger Intuition's blaring warning about Damon, coupled with Aria's overwhelming Killing Intent, had shaken him more than he wanted to admit. Strength. That's what it takes to stand up to people like Damon. If you don't have it, you're just a target.

He glanced at Aria, her face turned toward the cityscape outside. The calm she radiated now was a stark contrast to the deadly presence she had exuded earlier. She didn't even hesitate, Arlo thought. One look, one moment, and she had that guy backing off like a whipped dog.

Arlo exhaled slowly, his fingers tightening into fists.

Strength. That's what it took to survive here. Not just quick thinking or luck, but raw, undeniable power.

His thoughts drifted to Mr. Seaworth's warnings about the guilds.

"They're tyrants most of them," Seaworth had said. "You either play by their rules or get crushed under their boots."

The encounter with Damon seemed to echo that sentiment perfectly.

Arlo clenched his jaw, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. If I'm going to keep surviving in this place, I need to get stronger—fast, I need to digest my potion to advance in the next sequence.

The hovercar slowed, approaching the Quantum Cube Apartment Complex, a sleek, futuristic structure that stood out even among the HUB's cutting-edge architecture.

The vehicle came to a gentle stop, and Arlo shook off his thoughts, sitting up straighter.

"Well, this is my stop," Arlo said, glancing at Aria. He hesitated, unsure of what else to say. "Thanks… for everything."

Aria turned to him, her expression softening. "Get some rest, Arlo. You've earned it. I'll call you tomorrow to discuss the next steps in your training."

He nodded, stepping out of the hovercar. As it lifted off and disappeared into the night, Arlo entered the Quantum Cube. 

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[Quantum Complex – Lobby]

The familiar hum of the building's automated systems greeted him, along with the ever-cheerful Mr. Franky at the front desk.

"Arlo! Back already?" Franky beamed. "How did it go? Were you successful?"

Arlo managed a tired but genuine smile. "Yeah. Quest is successful."

Franky clapped his hands together. "Congratulations! I knew you'd pull through. You've got that pioneer spirit."

"Thanks, Franky," Arlo replied, his voice soft with exhaustion. "But if you don't mind, I'm calling it a night. I'm running on fumes here."

"Of course, of course," Franky said, waving him off. "Go get some rest, kid.You've earned it."

Arlo didn't need to be told twice.

Arlo nodded and made his way to his quarters. As the door slid shut behind him, the weight of the day's events finally settled on his shoulders. His bed beckoned like a sanctuary, and he didn't bother changing out of his clothes before collapsing onto the mattress.

His last conscious thought before sleep claimed him was a quiet resolve. Strength. I need it—not just for me, but to face whatever's coming next.

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The morning light filtered through his apartment's automated blinds, casting warm golden streaks across the sleek interior.

Arlo stirred, groaning as the BrainLink's incessant ringing yanked him from sleep. With a sluggish motion, he swiped at the interface. Aria's face appeared, her usual composed expression intact—but there was something sharper in her tone.

"Good morning, Arlo," she said briskly. "I'll be at your apartment in an hour. Get dressed and be ready to leave."

"An hour?" Arlo yawned, blinking blearily. "What's the rush?"

"You'll find out soon enough," Aria replied, ignoring his complaint. "Just be ready."

The call ended. No explanations. No room for argument.

Arlo stared at the blank screen. "Guess I'm not getting any lazy mornings."

With a resigned sigh, he dragged himself to the shower, letting the warm water wash away the last remnants of exhaustion.

After drying off, Arlo opted for a Korean-style gray turtleneck sweatshirt, black pants, and boots, pairing it with a navy-blue coat. The outfit was simple yet practical, fitting for whatever Aria had in store.

Satisfied, he grabbed a cup of instant noodles from his cupboard, slurping them down while scrolling through his BrainLink. 

A ping interrupted his browsing. Aria's message flashed across his screen

[Message]

Aria Hartman - I'm outside.

Arlo exhaled through his nose, grabbed his coat, and stepped out.

............

[Quantum Cube: Outside]

The Quantum Complex's corridors were quiet, the early morning stillness giving the place an eerie calm. As he exited the building, he spotted Aria waiting near a sleek hovercar parked by the curb

"Morning," he said, nodding as he approached.

"Get in," Aria said, gesturing to the passenger seat.

Arlo complied, the hovercar's door sliding shut behind him as the vehicle hummed to life.

Once they were airborne, he turned to her. "Alright, what's on the agenda today?"

Aria didn't waste time. "We're starting your training in information gathering."

Arlo raised an eyebrow. "Information gathering? What, like detective work?"

"Exactly," Aria replied.

She navigated smoothly through the sky lanes, turning toward the towering Commercial District.

"As a Pioneer, knowing how to fight isn't enough," she continued. "Quests aren't just about brawn. Some require strategy. Research. Being able to gather, analyze, and use intel is just as important as combat skills."

Arlo leaned back, arms crossed. "Makes sense. Can't just go in guns blazing every time. But where are we going for this… crash course?"

Aria turned toward the Commercial District, the towering spires of the HUB's bustling marketplace coming into view. "We're meeting a private information broker I know. A friend."

Arlo gave a low whistle. "An information broker, huh? Sounds like a shady type."

"Not shady," Aria corrected, her tone firm. "Resourceful. You'll understand once you meet her."

As the hovercar descended into the heart of the Commercial District, Arlo's curiosity grew. If today's training was about learning how to gather intel, he had a feeling it would be anything but dull.

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[Commercial District – Broker's Office]

The building was a futuristic marvel—asymmetrical, sleek, and seemingly defying gravity. Its metallic surface shimmered like liquid metal, refracting the morning light in hypnotic patterns.

Arlo squinted. "Does this thing… move,or is that just my eyes playing tricks?"

"It's static," Aria replied. "Designed to look dynamic. Over-the-top, but effective."

"Effective?" Arlo snorted. "This place screams, 'We have too much money.'"

Inside, the lobby was a dazzling display of floating holograms, glowing data streams, and translucent floors revealing mesmerizing shifting patterns beneath. Above them, sleek drones zipped silently, performing unseen tasks.

"Let me guess," Arlo said, eyeing the surroundings. "This is one of those places where you pay extra for coffee that tastes like disappointment but comes in a really cool cup."

Aria smirked faintly. "Focus, Arlo."

She led him to a private elevator tucked away in a quieter corner of the lobby. With a swipe of her access card, the doors slid open, and they stepped inside. The smooth hum of the elevator was accompanied by a faint, soothing melody.

Arlo leaned against the wall. "So, what's the deal with this broker? Am I going to meet some mysterious cloak-and-dagger type who talks in riddles?"

"You'll see," Aria replied cryptically, her expression unreadable.

When the elevator stopped on the 30th floor, Arlo was ready for a high-tech office with pristine desks and sleek furniture. Instead, they stepped into a narrow hallway, the walls lined with digital panels displaying a swirling array of colors and codes.

Aria walked purposefully toward a door with a nameplate that read [Amelia Bloom].

"This is it?" Arlo asked, raising an eyebrow.

Aria ignored him and opened the door.

Inside was chaos. Papers, data chips, empty snack wrappers. A trash bin overflowing with energy drink cans. The faint smell of burnt circuits and instant coffee lingered in the air.

And in the middle of it all, a purple-haired woman lay slumped over a desk, snoring softly.

Arlo stared. "Are we sure this isn't a storage closet?"

She shot him a warning look, the kind that immediately shut him up. "Don't."

In the corner of the room, a woman was slumped over her desk, fast asleep. Her long, bushy purple hair partially covered her face, and her glasses hung precariously off one ear. Aria walked over and tapped her shoulder.

...........

Aria strode across the cluttered office with practiced ease, weaving past stacks of data chips, loose schematics, and what appeared to be a half-eaten protein bar balancing precariously on a pile of unopened messages. The faint scent of burnt circuits and stale coffee lingered in the air, mixing with the soft hum of flickering holo-screens displaying fragmented code.

In the middle of the organized chaos, a woman lay slumped over her desk, her purple hair spilling across the surface like an unkempt halo. A faint snore escaped her, rhythmic and undisturbed, as if she hadn't a care in the world.

Arlo hesitated near the doorway, his brain struggling to reconcile the messy, chaotic reality before him with the sleek, high-tech image he had envisioned. This was supposed to be an elite information broker? He had expected something out of a spy thriller—a cold, calculating figure shrouded in mystery. Not… whatever this was.

Aria didn't hesitate. She reached out and gave the woman a firm tap on the shoulder. "Amelia. Wake up."

The response was immediate. Amelia jolted upright like a crash-landed drone, her glasses askew, eyes blinking blearily behind the smudged lenses. A strand of wild purple hair clung stubbornly to her cheek as she scanned the room in mild confusion.

"Huh? Wha—"Her eyes settled on Aria, and recognition clicked into place. "Oh! Right. You're here."

She grabbed a nearby comb and began furiously untangling her long, bushy purple hair. Her hands smoothed out her wrinkled office blouse as she mumbled something about needing more warning next time, while simultaneously shoving an empty energy drink can off the edge of the desk. The can hit the floor with a dull clank, rolling into a pile of crumpled notes and half-buried datapads.

Within seconds, she went from disheveled mess to passably presentable—or at least as presentable as someone who had clearly pulled an all-nighter could get.

Arlo, still watching from the side, felt his skepticism grow by the second. He cleared his throat. "Uh… is this your information broker, Aria?"

"This is Amelia Bloom," Aria said, gesturing toward the woman. "The private information broker I mentioned." 

Arlo blinked. Then blinked again. He gave Amelia a once-over, eyes flicking between the chaotic room, her haphazard appearance, and Aria's deadpan expression.

"Her?" He didn't even try to mask his doubt. "Are you sure?"

Amelia froze, one hand still mid-swipe through her hair. Then, slowly, dramatically, she adjusted her glasses with an exaggerated flourish.

"Hey!" she huffed, whipping around to face him. "I'm standing right here, you know!"

Arlo raised his hands in mock surrender, taken slightly off guard by the sharpness in her voice. "Sorry! It's just… I wasn't expecting—" He gestured vaguely at the cluttered disaster zone around them. "This."

Amelia scoffed, clearly unimpressed. "Tsk, tsk. Judging a book by its cover, are we?"

Aria cut in before the exchange could escalate. "Amelia may not look the part," she said evenly, "but she's the best in the business. Trust me on this."

The confidence in her voice made Arlo hesitate. Aria wasn't the type to exaggerate.

Amelia, meanwhile, straightened her back, flipping her hair over her shoulder with an almost theatrical air of importance.

"That's right!" she declared, flashing a grin full of mischief. "Bow before my brilliance, lowly peasant!"

Arlo pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling sharply. "This is going to be a long day."

Amelia's grin widened, clearly enjoying his frustration. "Relax, newbie. You'll learn a lot under my guidance." She crossed her arms, nodding sagely. "I'm practically a genius, after all."

"If you say so," Arlo muttered, casting a sidelong glance at Aria. "You're really sure she's the best?"

"She is," Aria said without hesitation. "You'd be hard-pressed to find anyone better. Amelia has connections, skills, and knowledge that make her invaluable as a broker."

Arlo studied Amelia for a moment longer, then sighed in resignation. "Alright, fine. If she's the best, I'll give it a shot."

Amelia's grin turned smug. "Good! Because you're about to get a crash course in the fine art of information gathering. Try to keep up, rookie."

Arlo braced himself. This was going to be interesting.