Another Day as a Corporate Slave

  I sat hunched over my desk, the monotonous hum of fluorescent lights overhead mirroring the dull ache in in my temples. The rhythmic clatter of keyboards and the occasional murmur of colleagues formed a symphony of tedium that had become the soundtrack of my life. Each day blended seamlessly into the next, a grayscale loop of reports, emails, and meetings that seemed to lead nowhere.

  I glanced at the small calendar pinned to the cubicle wall, each crossed-out date a testament to time slipping away. It hadn't always been like this. There was a time when the world had been alight with possibility, when the very fabric of reality had shifted, introducing the enigmatic force known as mana.

  The emergence of mana had been nothing short of a global renaissance. Individuals who could harness this mystical energy rose to prominence, their abilities reshaping industries, entertainment, and even politics. They became the new celebrities, their names etched into the annals of history as pioneers of a new age. I had watched from the sidelines with a mixture of awe and envy.

  I had never been among the fortunate few to naturally wield mana. But rather than succumb to bitterness, I decided to channel my intrigue into academia. I pursued a degree in chemistry, driven by a desire to understand the molecular mysteries that mana introduced to the world. I envisioned a future where I could bridge the gap between the arcane and the scientific, uncovering the secrets of mana-induced substances and perhaps even leveling the playing field for those without innate abilities.

  Yet, as with many dreams, reality had other plans. A series of unforeseen events—a downturn in research funding, the closure of key laboratories, personal setbacks—had derailed these aspirations. Opportunities in my chosen field became scarce, and practicality demanded I find employment elsewhere. That's how I ended up here, ensnared in the corporate machinery, my talents squandered on tasks that neither challenged nor fulfilled me.

  I sighed, rubbing my eyes before they could drift toward the window, where a sliver of blue sky teased a world beyond the office confines. I couldn't help but feel a pang of regret, a lingering question of 'what if?' But buried beneath the layers of resignation was a flicker of hope, a quiet rebellion against the mundane. Perhaps, it wasn't too late to redirect my path, to rekindle the passion that once burned so brightly.

  For now, though, I turned back to my computer monitor, the cursor blinking impatiently—a silent reminder that time waits for no one.

  As the day wore on, I found myself lost in thought, reminiscing about the days when mana had first emerged.

  I remember the late nights in the university laboratory, poring over a deluge of incoming research papers, trying to decipher the secrets of mana. My professors had been supportive, encouraging my curiosity and drive. They had seen potential in me, a spark that could ignite groundbreaking discoveries.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  But as time went on, the reality of the situation became apparent. The world was focused on results that increased combat power. Skepticism on the practicality of the project grew, leading to budget cuts and the eventual shutdown of my research. My dreams shattered as funding and trust dwindled.

  With no other options, I turned to the corporate world, hoping to find some semblance of purpose. But the monotonous routine had quickly drained me, leaving me feeling like a cog in a machine. The passion I once had for discovery had been replaced by a dull resignation.

  “Hey! Frax”, a slender hand in front of my face. "You've been zoning out a lot lately. Planning your escape from this prison?"?

  I forced a chuckle, she always had a way of telling what I was thinking. "Oh, hey Anna, just thinking about some old projects," I replied, hoping to deflect further inquiry.?

  Anna had always been a beacon of energy in the otherwise monotonous office environment. Around the same age as me, she possessed a vivacious spirit that contrasted sharply with the drab surroundings of their workplace. Her laughter often echoed through the corridors, bringing a semblance of life to the sterile cubicles.?

  Anna had joined the company shortly after me, and we had quickly formed a camaraderie based on shared responsibilities and mutual respect (work and games). While I often found myself lost in thought, Anna had a knack for grounding me, pulling me back into the present with her sharp wit and perceptive observations.

  But Anna's comment struck a chord. "Escape," I pondered. The word echoed in my mind, a tantalizing prospect that seemed both impossible and essential. I had considered various avenues—applying for research grants, collaborating with former professors—but each path seemed fraught with obstacles.?

  In my darker moments, I even contemplated more drastic measures. "What if I sold various substances like in Making Good?" With the money I’d make from that I could..."

  A hand appeared in front of my face once again this time, doing finger snaps.

  “Hey! Your eyes are glazing over again. Are you having an internal monologue… again? Never mind. did you see the email from management?" she asked, leaning against the partition that separated their workspaces.?

  I glanced up, adjusting my glasses. "No, what now?"?

  "Another project with an 'urgent' deadline," she replied, using air quotes. "They want it done by Friday."?

  I raised an eyebrow. "It's Wednesday afternoon. Do they think we have a time-stop ability or something?"?

  Anna chuckled. "I was just thinking the same thing. Maybe we should add 'chronomancer' to our job titles."?

  "Or 'miracle worker,'" I added with a smirk. "What's this project about, anyway?"

  She sighed, rolling her eyes. "Some last-minute client request. They need a full report on the latest mana integration trends."

  "Of course they do," I muttered. "Because who needs proper planning when you have us?"?

  Anna nodded in agreement. "I swear, they must think we have nothing better to do."?

  "Well," I said, leaning back in my chair, "looks like we're in for another couple of late nights."?

  "Guess so," she replied, "but hey, at least we can suffer together."?

  I chuckled. "Misery loves company, right?"?

  "Who is misery and why do they love company," Anna said with a smirk while I cringed.

  Anna had a weird quirk where she enjoyed seeing people’s reactions after poorly timed dad jokes. She liked reading complex expressions and deciphering them.

  "Has anyone told you that your cringe face could become a really popular emoji? In the ugly funny sense."?

  What did she just say to me?

  "Okay I'm heading back to my cube! Gotta start on that task pronto." Anna turned around seemingly happy with the look on my face.

  With me wondering if I should be flattered or appalled and Anna happily skipping to her cubicle, we both went back to work, ready to tackle the latest challenge thrown our way.

  We completed the task right before the deadline.

  But Anna called in sick for a week afterwards.