THE EPOCH CHRONICLES | ✔

one

Grayling, Michigan
2039
(Twenty years later)

━━━━

FEAR PARALYZED Amelia as she contemplated on her next move, her eyes skittering around the battlefield that would be quick to claim her if she wasn't careful. Her enemy taunted her, moving forward without a care for her own defenses. Regretting her decision a second after she made it, Amelia darted to the left, her fingers flexing just as she appeared in another's line of sight. Her breath caught in her throat as Daryl chuckled malevolently.

"Checkmate." His king effectively trapped her own, her remaining pawns and horse unable to help her escape as she sighed through her fringe and sank down in the slightly scratchy seat that smelt of spilt coffee, sweat and destroyed hopes. The entirety of Dana's Exclusive smelt of it, mingled with the oily crispness of the rare burger and even rarer lettuce. Daryl sat back in his chair, blonde hair greasy and flopping over his eyes as he smirked. "Why do you still try, Mel? Isn't it obvious enough to you that I'm the lucky one at chess?"

"Chess is a game of logic," she corrected him, examining the chess board. "Not luck."

He grinned and leant forward on his elbows, his blue eyes twinkling. "Want a rematch?"

"Nah," Amelia tapped on her wristwatch, and the holographic blue screen popped up, causing her to scramble to her feet and wrestle her backpack onto her shoulders. "Dank! I've got to get to the university!"

She gave Daryl a quick kiss on the cheek, before striding out of the diner, the door locking in its place behind her as the momentary cold of the building vanished, replaced by heat and dust. Amelia tugged on her backpack's straps again, her black eyes darting up and down the street as she searched in vain for a cab, or, even better, a hover-rail. When neither modes of transport came into sight, she sighed and quickly took off down the old highway, its tar and cement hard beneath her scuffed boots as she settled into a jog, the heat too intense for an all-out sprint.

Swiping her brown curls from her face, she turned down another unused street, slowing as dust got caught in her throat. Amelia coughed and swiftly took out a bottle of water from the side of her pack to drink, before looking around again.

Grayling wasn't exactly a bustling metropolis, but she knew it was busier and more fruitful than other places. Now that Lake Michigan had dried up, people from all over the United States were trying to make a business out of the iron and copper beneath the dusty lakebed, scavenging for resources that were too few. As a paleontologist, she too, could benefit from the drought as new coral fossils are discovered, but she was genuinely disappointed that the iconic landmark had given in. And it didn't look like it would get any better soon.

After a few more minutes of alternating between speed-walking and jogging, she finally reached the campus of Michigan History University, a controversial building that caused an uproar among the public as money better spent on trying to survive on a daily basis was spent on building an education system that wouldn't be used — money didn't grow on trees, especially as there weren't many trees left. People were better off stealing than learning the formula of pi. She squinted again and glanced up at the marble and brick building. The architecture was irregular, different styles in different components of the building, and the white limestone walls were now constantly a rusted brown from the sand and grit.

Amelia raced up the stairs, straight for the university entrance. A plaque hung on the wall beside the door, and her eyes skimmed over a few words before she pressed a buzzer. A voice replied on the intercom over the door. "Name and business here?"