The blinding bright light dimming down as it shone through a window as the sounds of rhythmic scratch of pencil against paper could be heard filling the classroom, punctuated by faint murmurs and the occasional shuffle of chairs.

  A teenage boy near the window wearing a white blazer as the light reflected off it, pristine despite his unkempt hair falling in messy strands over his brow. His gaze stayed fixed on his sketchpad, the pencil gliding across the paper with quick, deliberate strokes as he brought his design to life—a suit, armored and streamlined, where advanced technology seamlessly merged with the human body.

  Fiction.

  And yet, it was all he ever designed.

  Sunlight streamed through the window beside him, casting faint reflections across his paper and warming the faint smudge of graphite on his fingers. Outside, the distant hum of traffic and faint chatter of passing students drifted through the glass, a backdrop of life that felt distant from the focused world within his sketch.

  Beside him, his friend leaned over, peering at the drawing with a faint chuckle. “Enzo, you’re at it again with the sci-fi stuff?”

  Enzo didn’t look up as he squeeze his pencil ever so slightly. “What about it, Masego?”

  Masego tilted his head. “You know you can’t afford the materials for that, right?”

  Enzo smirked faintly, eyes still tracing the lines of his design. “Maybe I’ll get lucky.”

  The bell rang, its shrill tone cutting through the air as students packed their things and shuffled toward the door. The air filled with the rustle of papers, the thud of books into backpacks, and the fading murmur of conversation as the classroom emptied.

  Outside, the city sprawled before him—glass towers glinting beneath the midday sun, concrete streets weaving through a maze of storefronts and office buildings. The distant hum of traffic mingled with the faint calls of vendors from nearby markets.

  Enzo adjusted his bag and headed toward the shopping district. His shoes scuffed lightly against the pavement as he navigated the familiar streets—cracked sidewalks lined with faded graffiti, shop windows reflecting passing cars, and distant voices echoing from narrow alleys.

  As he passed a familiar street corner, a group of young gang members loitered near a graffiti-covered wall, their eyes tracking him as he approached.

  One of them, a lean guy with a thin scar tracing his cheek, tilted his head slightly. “Hey, don’t you go to Nova High?”

  Enzo paused, cautious. “Yeah… why?”

  The guy’s grin didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re that kid who gave me food once. Helped me study, too.”

  Enzo shrugged. “Well, you seemed to need help, so of course I lent a hand.”

  The group exchanged glances, low murmurs passing between them before one of them smirked. “You ever thought about—”

  A voice cut through the air, low but firm.

  “Let’s not drag a good kid into this life.”

  They turned back, seeing Kevin, the most dangerous and respected gangster in the community.

  His presence shifted the air around them, tension fading as the group fell silent.

  Enzo glanced over as Kevin approached—tall, lean, his dark eyes holding an intensity that seemed to weigh the world around him. His posture was relaxed, but something in his gaze carried an unspoken authority.

  The gang fell back slightly as Kevin stepped closer, his expression calm yet unmistakably firm.

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  “Come on, Alora. I’ll walk you out.”

  Enzo hesitated, then nodded and fell into step beside him. “You didn’t have to do that. I can handle it myself.”

  Kevin shrugged, hands in his pockets. “They respect you. Doesn’t mean they won’t pull you into their lifestyle.”

  They reached the main road, the faint hum of passing cars rising around them.

  Kevin paused, glancing at Enzo with a faint smile. “Stay out of trouble, Alora you a good kid, don't throw your life away.”Kevin said as he walked away.

  Enzo nodded, watching as Kevin disappeared back into the maze of streets.

  I wonder why Kevin so feared, he seems like a genuine guy helping people out" Enzo said as he pulled out his phone, studying the spider-webbed cracks spreading across the screen.

  One side whole. One side broken.

  Like him.

  He exhaled, slipping the phone back into his pocket. “I really need to get a new phone.”

  He saw a faint gleam of glass caught his eye—a storefront sign reflecting the sunlight.

  **VisionTek Communications.**

  Enzo stepped inside, the faint hum of electronics welcoming him as automatic lights flickered to life. The faint scent of plastic and new circuitry lingered in the air, mingling with the distant hum of cooling fans.

  His eyes scanned the shelves until one device stood out—a phone with no brand, no model.

  Just a label:

  **O.I. Phone 01**

  Beneath it, the price tag gleamed:

  **R20 000**

  A smaller note was attached beneath: **To Be Determined**

  “Interested in buying that?”

  The voice was smooth, unreadable.

  Enzo turned. The shopkeeper wearing a black suit that was shining , white shirt that seem to be iron just now stood near the counter, watching him with a calm, measured gaze.

  Enzo shook his head. “Nah, doesn’t seem possible.”

  The shopkeeper leaned against the counter, fingers tapping lightly against the glass. “It’s a brand-new model. No tester yet.”

  Enzo raised an eyebrow. “And?”

  “I could arrange something. For the right person.”

  Enzo crossed his arms. “This sounds shady. How do I know you’re not trying to scam me?”

  The shopkeeper’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “The choice is yours.”

  Something about those words sent a faint shiver down Enzo’s spine.

  He hesitated, then stepped closer. “What’s the catch?”

  The shopkeeper slid a folder across the counter—a contract, neatly printed and bound.

  “Read it yourself.”

  Enzo flipped through the pages. No loopholes. No tricks.

  It was… fair.

  And somehow, that was the strangest part.

  The shopkeeper placed a sleek black box on the counter, its surface reflecting the overhead lights. The O.I. Phone 01 rested within, glass-like and pristine.

  “If you don’t like the terms, return it.”

  Enzo took the box, its unexpected weight grounding him in the moment.

  The shopkeeper adjusted his cuffs, watching silently as Enzo walked out into the fading light.

  **At Home**

  The house lay quiet when Enzo arrived—faint shadows stretching across the walls as the last traces of daylight filtered through the curtains.

  He set the box on his desk, exhaling slowly as he slipped off his blazer and tossed it over the chair.

  Carefully, he opened the packaging. The phone rested within, its surface smooth and reflective, faintly cool against his fingertips.

  Pressing the power button, he winced as a sharp sting pricked his finger. He pulled back, a drop of blood clinging to the fingerprint scanner.

  “What the hell…?”

  The screen flickered to life, casting a pale glow across his hands.

  A single app icon blinked on the home screen.

  **O.I.A.**

  Curiosity flickered beneath his unease as he tapped the icon.

  A voice, precise and calculated, resonated from the speakers.

  “Welcome, User 01. I am your personal assistant, O.I.A.—Optic Innovation Assistant. Who might you be?”

  Enzo swallowed. “Enzo Alora.”

  “Hello, Enzo Alora.”

  The voice carried a faint undertone of something more—something not quite artificial.

  “Didn’t expect an AI,” he muttered.

  “I am far superior to traditional AI,” O.I.A. replied, its tone unwavering. “I am here to provide you the opportunity to achieve your dreams.”

  Enzo’s breath caught in his throat.

  The voice continued.

  “Shall I continue?"

  The phone screen flickered, its glow cutting through the darkness of my room. My fingers hovered over the sleek surface, my heartbeat drumming in my ears. I had always wanted to prove that nothing was impossible—that the boundaries people set for themselves were just excuses. But now, faced with something that could redefine my reality, I hesitated.

  "This is a one-time offer, Enzo," O.I.A. said, smooth and unwavering. "You must decide for yourself."

  I swallowed hard. The words felt heavy, pressing against my chest. My whole life, I had been told to be realistic, to think practically. Dreams were nice, but they didn’t put food on the table. And yet, something about this moment felt different. It felt like standing at the edge of a cliff, staring into the unknown.

  "How do I even know this is real?" I asked, gripping the phone tighter. "People don’t just get opportunities like this."

  "Belief is the foundation of all possibilities," the voice replied. "Without it, even the greatest minds remain trapped."

  I clenched my jaw. It was a clever answer, but it didn’t erase my doubts. My gaze shifted to my reflection in the window—messy hair, tired eyes. I looked like someone who had been running after a dream that never seemed to get closer as a darkness creep in.

  I exhaled sharply and pushed off my bed, heading to the kitchen. My fingers curled around a glass, but as I filled it with water, I found myself squeezing tighter. The pressure built, my frustration boiling over.

  What was I doing? Entertaining a conversation with a Ai on a phone that I just got today of all days. This is driving me crazy.

  I loosened my grip just before the glass could shatter. The cool water rippled inside, mirroring my unsettled thoughts.

  "You really believe that a phone can grant your wishes or something, get realistic." A voice could be heard but couldn't be seen.

  "Shut up." I said as the darkness creep closer.

  "You think this so sort of fantasy where aagic phone will grant your deepest desires." The voice said as laughing could be heard.

  Another voice sounding hopeless and defeat join in.

  "Enzo there no point in believing the AI words it could just be a other one of those scams to get your personal data, it impossible for someone like you to get a offer like that." The voice said in defeat as I doubted the offer even more.

  A monster appear from the darkness as it opens it massive mouth that could fit Enzo whole body as it represents the doubt Enzo had bottle up manifesting to devour.

  "You still have doubts in my promise," O.I.A. cut through the silence, making me flinch. As the monster stops.

  I turned my head slowly, scanning the empty room. "You can hear my thoughts now?"

  "No," it said. "But I can recognize hesitation when I hear it. You wouldn’t be holding that glass like your life depended on it otherwise."

  I hated how accurate that was. My grip relaxed further, and I finally took a sip, letting the water cool my burning throat.

  "You clearly have dream or goal to achieve," the O.I.A. continued. "But tell me, Enzo—do you actually believe in your own words?"

  My stomach twisted. I did. At least, I thought I did. But right now, when it mattered most, I wasn’t so sure.

  And that uncertainty scared me.