Jackson stared blankly out the coffee shop window, watching the city blur into streaks of neon. The glow of the hover-trains, the endless digital billboards, the faceless people moving past—all of it felt distant, indifferent. His coffee sat untouched, long gone cold.

  The truth was simple: He was stuck.

  Every hopeful leap he’d made had ended in failure. College had promised a future, but years later, he was no closer to one. The last rejection still burned.

  "You lack direction, purpose—conviction."

  He had believed them.

  A muted newsfeed flickered in the café, headlines scrolling like a never-ending obituary for society:

  > UNEMPLOYMENT SURGES.

  TRUST IN INSTITUTIONS COLLAPSES.

  VIOLENCE ERUPTS AMID HOPELESSNESS.

  He clenched his jaw. The world mirrored him—directionless, drifting, crumbling.

  Then she walked in.

  Aiko.

  She entered with the same undeniable presence as before, as if the very air shifted around her. Heads turned—not obviously, but inevitably. There was something about her that demanded attention without ever asking for it.

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  And then, she was standing in front of him.

  “Jackson, right?”

  He blinked, startled that she remembered him. “Yeah… Hey.”

  Aiko slid into the seat across from him, graceful yet deliberate. “You look lost.”

  He let out a dry laugh. “Is it that obvious?”

  “Only if you’re really paying attention,” she replied, studying him. “Why did you stop believing in yourself?”

  Jackson froze.

  A sudden flashback: The final rejection. The interviewer’s flat, emotionless voice: “We just don’t see you fitting in anywhere.”

  That sentence had shattered something inside him.

  “I guess I stopped thinking I could actually change things,” he admitted. “Everything I do leads nowhere. Maybe the world just isn’t made for people like me.”

  She studied him carefully. “That’s exactly why you’re stuck. You’ve accepted a story someone else handed you. But the world isn’t fixed, Jackson. It’s waiting for people who dare to rewrite the rules.”

  His skepticism flickered. “You sound like you've cracked some secret code.”

  “No secret,” Aiko said. “Just principles.”

  She leaned forward, voice quiet but unshakable. “Have you ever heard of Nova Ethos?”

  He shook his head.

  “It’s a system,” she explained. “Adaptation instead of stagnation. Structure instead of chaos. Understanding probabilities rather than fearing uncertainty. It’s how you shape your life instead of just reacting to it.”

  Jackson scoffed, shifting in his seat. “Sounds idealistic. I’m barely holding on to reality as it is.”

  Aiko didn’t flinch. “That’s because you’ve only known how to react. You’re letting someone else’s vision define your worth.”

  His gaze flickered to the TV. The news now showed protests spilling into riots, flames rising, people screaming. The real-world consequences of a generation without direction.

  Aiko reached into her pocket and placed something on the table.

  A small emblem.

  An infinity loop enclosed in a circle. It pulsed softly, almost hypnotically.

  Jackson stared, feeling… something. The symbol was simple, but as he looked at it, it felt like it was peering into him, reflecting back everything he feared—and everything he could be.

  “Nova Ethos is this,” Aiko said, tapping the symbol gently. “Continuous adaptation. Structured growth. Moral clarity. Self-sovereignty. Probabilistic mastery. Reality engineering.” Her voice lowered. “It’s not theory, Jackson—it’s lived truth. A truth anyone can create.”

  Jackson’s stomach twisted. The spark of longing inside him flared—but not for Nova Ethos.

  For her.

  He wasn’t sure he believed in any of this. But Aiko believed in it, and for some reason, she believed in him.

  That was enough.

  “Okay,” he said, forcing down the doubt. “I’ll hear you out.”

  A small, knowing smile crossed her lips. “Good.”

  Then, outside—the street erupted into chaos.

  A fight broke out. Two men, fists flying, rage twisting their faces. Screams. Sirens. The glass walls of the café reflected the world outside—a world spiraling further into disorder.

  Aiko watched for a moment, sadness and conviction intertwining. “This is what happens when no one dares to shape the future.”

  She turned back to Jackson. “Meet me tomorrow at NovaCorp.”

  He hesitated, then looked at the emblem again—the infinite loop pulsing softly between them.

  Aiko stood, moving toward the door. The café felt… brighter in her presence. As she stepped into the neon-lit streets, Jackson realized something strange.

  The world dimmed behind her.

  Like shadows shrinking before the sun.