The morning had begun with a flurry of excited chatter. Jackson, a whirlwind of teenage energy at fifteen, was pacing the small living room, his hands gesturing emphatically as he spoke.

“Mom, you won’t believe this! I’ve almost cracked the algorithm. Almost! Just a few more tweaks, and I can stabilize the energy flow.”

Angella, perched on the edge of the sofa, watched him with a fond smile. His passion was infectious, even if his explanations often veered into the realm of hyperdimensional physics, a subject she only vaguely understood.

“That’s wonderful, sweetie,” she said, though her mind was only half on his words. She was reviewing her shopping list on her wrist-comp, a sleek device with a vintage, art-deco design. “Just promise me you won’t blow up the apartment before I get back.”

Jackson rolled his eyes, a playful grin on his face. “Mom, please. I’m a scientist, not a pyromaniac.” He paused, his expression softening. “Seriously though, this could be big. Imagine, clean energy, unlimited power…”

“I know, Jackson, you’ll change the world,” Angella said, her smile widening. She stood up, smoothing down her neatly patched jacket. “Okay, I’m off. Anything else you need from the market?”

Jackson glanced at the cluttered table, overflowing with wires, circuits, and half-disassembled gadgets. “Just the usual synth-cables, and maybe some more of those energy capacitors, the blue-tipped ones.”

“The blue-tipped ones. Got it.” Angella kissed him on the cheek, her hand lingering for a moment. There was a comfortable rhythm to their mornings, a familiar dance of affection and playful banter. It was a cherished ritual, a constant in their small, self-contained world.

 

 

The hum of the automated vendor stalls was a familiar comfort to Angella as she navigated the bustling marketplace. Even with its retro-futuristic design – the sleek, chrome kiosks juxtaposed against the aged cobblestone streets – the city always felt like home. Today, the air was thick with the scent of synth-spices and the chatter of a thousand voices, a vibrant tapestry of life under the watchful gaze of the Holian temple that dominated the skyline.

Angella, 29, moved with a practiced ease through the crowd, her slim figure a familiar sight to the stall vendors. Her style, a blend of practicality and a touch of vintage flair, was on full display: a neatly patched jacket over simple trousers, her light brown hair pulled back with a metallic, art-deco clip. She wasn't one for high fashion, but she always made an effort to present herself with a certain understated elegance.

The first stop on Angella's shopping trip was "Pages of Yore," a quaint bookstore tucked away on a side street. The shop was a haven of retro charm, with towering shelves of antique-looking data-slates and the scent of aged paper (or its synthetic equivalent).

"Ah, Angella! Good morning," greeted Elias, the shopkeeper, a wizened man with a kind smile and spectacles perched precariously on his nose. "The usual order, I presume?"

"The usual, Elias," Angella confirmed, returning his smile. "And Jackson tells me there's a new arrival on hyperdimensional physics? Something about cracked algorithms?"

Elias chuckled, his eyes twinkling. "Indeed. A rather... enthusiastic young man was in here just yesterday, raving about it. I set aside a copy for him, knowing his mother wouldn't let him miss out." He gestured to a beautifully bound data-slate on the counter, its cover adorned with intricate, glowing glyphs.

"You know us too well," Angella said, a warmth spreading through her chest. Their shared love of learning, hers and Jackson's, was a bond as strong as any blood tie.

With the data-slate tucked safely in her bag, Angella continued her shopping trip. She browsed the synth-cable stalls, carefully selecting the right gauge and length for Jackson's experiments. At a nearby kiosk, she picked up a set of energy capacitors, their blue tips gleaming with contained power. The marketplace was a familiar sensory experience, a comforting routine that grounded her in the vibrant heart of the city.

 

Today's haul was a testament to Jackson's insatiable mind: a new volume on hyperdimensional physics, a collection of classic retro-future literature, and a complex logic puzzle that she suspected would keep him occupied for hours. A small smile played on her lips as she imagined his excitement.

The hover-bus ride home was swift and smooth, the city lights blurring into streaks of neon and gold. As she stepped off at her stop, the familiar sense of contentment settled over her. Soon, she'd be sharing tea with Jackson, discussing the mysteries of the universe and the latest happenings in their little corner of the world.

 

The smile faltered as she unlocked the apartment door.

"Jackson?" The apartment was silent, the air still and undisturbed. "I'm home!"

No response.

Angella set the shopping bags on the kitchen counter, a knot of unease tightening in her stomach. "Jackson?" she called again, her voice slightly louder this time.

She checked his room first, a space filled with half-finished projects, stacks of books, and the faint scent of ozone from his tinkering. Empty. The small living room, usually cluttered with his experiments and diagrams, was equally deserted.

A flicker of worry turned into a spark of alarm. Jackson was always here. Always waiting for her return with a new discovery or a challenging question. He rarely went out, and he always told her when he did.

Angella checked the time on her wrist-comp. It was later than she'd thought. Where could he be?

The initial assumption that he was simply "out" began to crumble, replaced by a chilling premonition. Something was wrong. This wasn't like him.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she moved through the apartment again, her calls becoming more frantic, more desperate. Every shadow seemed to lengthen, every silence to deepen. The vibrant energy of the city outside suddenly felt distant, a world away from the growing dread that consumed her.

Finally, the realization hit her with the force of a physical blow: he was gone.

Not just out for a while. Gone.

And in that moment, the world tilted on its axis. The comfortable rhythm of her life, the familiar cadence of her days with Jackson, shattered into a million pieces, leaving her alone in the sudden, deafening silence.