Before tomorrow starts but after today ends.

As the noises of the afternoon began to unfold, a diverse collection of humanity converged upon this urban canvas. A multitude of souls that could never be counted for their worth. Several scents wafted through the air: the tantalizing aroma of freshly brewed coffee and delicate fragrance being sold of roadside flowers mingled with underlying bitterness that every city seemed to have. Perhaps it's because of the quiet cafes tucked away in cobblestone where patrons find solace amongst moments of reflection, accompanied by the wisp of smoke curling lazily from their lips. Or maybe it’s the vibrant food markets, alive with exotic spices that could never outweigh horrid smell of dead things especially the pungent scent of rotten seafood.

The city, was bathed in waning light of day, played its role ever so well, a testament to human endeavour. For the selected few who dwelled today, within its grasp. It embraces the role as the pulsating centre of the heart. The traffic lights both obedient and capricious, danced just slightly with will of its own, casting faint tones upon the shimmering reflections of the luminous.

In distances not so far, soft susurrus of conversations between unknown individuals take place, temporarily, teasingly out of reach for anyone else. But they played its role briefly like phantom whispers which admits the concrete arteries that encircled the city’s beating heart. The roaring engines with hints of untamed fervour and the sporadic sounds of brakes screeching in protest played as a backdrop, a symphony to the melodious opening and closing of shops whose names were shrouded slight mystery to those who aren't bothered to look, like Racheal who will forever remain aware, yet completely unaware to the enigmatic charm of the city due to the truths of her experience.

With sense of purpose that seemed almost mechanical, Racheal’s legs carried her away from cacophony of the city. To a quaint place not so far from the heart it all. A place you might fall upon once, walk it once, everyone walks it once but never again. A labyrinth of forgotten warehouse where there uses have now been transformed into yesteryears secrets. All undoubtedly surrounded by skeletal tress that served as a haven for the weary. Yet Racheal has undertaken this journey before, a thousand times before, in past thousand days, each day at the exact same time. Where each step is taken with the precision of a ritual performed without hesitation.

Approaching the warehouse, with a familiarity born of repetition, Racheal reached out the door, with the same motion as yesterday, with a slight jolt, the door slid open, revealing the dimly lit interior beyond. A soft bang, the sound of its impact against the adjacent wall reverberated within the slithery stillness of this domain.

She walks into the interior, her presence seemed to swallow the sound. Not a footstep be heard and her breathes were silent. Despite the enveloping the space in a hushed stillness her figure commanded attention. Tall and dignified, enough to be praised about it, but not enough to stare. Cloaked in winter uniform, but it’s not winter right now. She is the pinnacle of understated elegance. Her wool-blend dress, painted in the deep shades of red, peeked out from beneath a meticulously tailored coat that wrapped around her like a protective shield. At first glance it seems black, but the cloak reveals subtle undertones of dark grey, which adds a bit of depth to its seemingly monochromatic facade.

Her hands, pale and seemingly almost fragile, were encased in navy gloves adorned with assorted floral patterns. Some parts of the glove were translucent, offering fleeting glimpse of her skin beneath. As she moved, her ankle boots-adorned with a slight unamusing heel, which cleverly made to have no sound against the surface of the warehouse floor. Whether tis it's a design of the leather-clad boots or whether it was on purpose by her. She will never know.

 As Rachel made her way through the deserted warehouse, she often encounters a man who seemed to be occupied in a realm of his own. Sometimes engrossed in repairs for his electrical component on the left side of the warehouse, his hands deftly manipulating tools with precisions. The other times found gazing elsewhere pensively into the horizons as if lost in contemplation. Admits the din of machinery and the hum of other conversations, they would have brief yet profound encounters. Each time they crossed paths, he would pause his work, shift his attention to her as if drawn by an invisible force. Those brief moments they would exchange words, meaningless words, that were like pieces of one whole. Shared. Narrative. Woven into their daily lives. But since two years ago, when he first appeared out the blue, the memory of each encounter with him remained etched into her heart, leaving an inedible mark on her soul as a faint memory of the lost.

“Hey Racheal, inspecting the electricity power again?” the man says animatedly, the tone itself carried the undercurrent of affection which was fortified by the small soft smile that graced his lips. But it was the same animated expression as yesterdays and yesterdays before, only a few adjusted facial features, maybe a smile from right side of the lip , or a slight eyebrow raise from the left eye, a hand awkwardly placed in the right pocket or a quiet wave, if only Racheal paid more attention to it like she did with everything else, she might realise it looks almost too good.

He donned the quintessential attire of someone working at a warehouse, weathered blue cargo pants worn out by the dust accumulated from the warehouse’s forgotten nooks where light never treads. A fluorescent yellow safety vest that seemed to almost emit a luminance in the gloom that set him apart from the rest. Steel-toed boots along with safety glasses perched atop his head, which was a mere accessory that he never utilized. Yet despite his outward resemblance of the normalcy, his captivating eyes, set against his sun-kissed blonde hair and the slight reminiscent of light tone cameral coloured skin he had seemed to mirror her own brown eyes that whispered a little grey, framed by a countenance of alabaster skin and cascading golden-brown strands that made her hair. Yet the harder she stared into them, the hollower they seemed.

“Yeah, your boss seemingly always wants me to check on it,” she chimed in swiftly with a smile that showed just slightest glimmer of pearly white teeth.

“Haha must be a hassle, you’ve been doing it even before I've arrived,” he said returning the smile, that failed to fully reach the corners of his lips, yet his eyes gleamed brightly enough, just enough to compensate.

Today he is a lot more directed to me, perhaps it's just the occasion she reasoned.

 Its only then she realised he flickered his eyes to her clenched fist, but flicked right back up when she caught him on the act and that instant she released her grip, mustering some confidence within her as she spoke, sounding like someone who seemed to know what they were doing. “Not really, it just becomes part of life, just like how that electrical component has become a part of yours.” she remarks with a small gesture towards the equipment, and just before he turned that way, he caught her face twitch ever so slightly, prompting her to adjust.

“In a way that our conversations have become a part of our lives, although meaningless, somehow seems to lift the mood ever so slightly,” he said out of the blue, expression unfazed as always.

He seemed to have a knack to read her soul, almost like reciting a poem but he always chose the wrong lines at the wrong times, it frightened her on the surfaces but calmed her truthfully.

“Yes, you couldn’t be more right, what happens is just meant to be,” she chuckled, her mouth curves wide enough to see that bright smile, she occasionally graced him with.  He smiles back, genuine, but his eyes betraying him unwillingly, making it an involuntarily smile that questioned her intentions.

 Noticing the slight silence between them, she hastily interjects to fill in the gap.

“I don't really mind coming here in, it's just a touch more to everything just like our...”

“You're wearing the necklaces I gave to you on your birthday, you’ve never worn that” he cuts in bluntly, yet charmingly.

As if she lost control, she stammered, her cheeks flushing with a hint of red at the edges.

“Oh I. um just wanted to I guess, I don't get a lot of gifts I guess,” she hurriedly explained, her voice softer than before, carrying a certain vulnerability, that could captivate a man’s heart to adorn a women’s beauty, but not this man.

“Special occasion? In... That case I will buy you something every year.” He says innocently but it would have seemed unconvincing in its purity to Racheal any other day.

She offered a light smile, her right shoulder dipping ever so slightly, momentarily at a loss for words, somehow that was all that was needed to fill the silence in that moment. Unconsciously, she brushed the right side of her hair away, the hair that habitually obscured a portion of her face, with a tender touch, lifted the necklace slightly, fingers tracing its familiar contours before gently letting it settle back into place.

“That would be nice Sebastian, "she says turning away from him and back to him with a smile.

That seemed to be enough for them and at the call of his name, Sebastion's eyes opened wider than usual, and if there were any flowers in the cold avalanche of the warehouse, they would have bloomed too.

Acquainted to the silence that fell upon them, Racheal shifted her feet slowly from the mess she made and quickly towards the power storage room, right before making the usual right turn, a voice that trembled slightly but was lifted from the previous melancholy spoke.

“Do you want to have dinner with me after work today” Sebestian says, in peculiar voice yet pleasing to her, “I finish at...”

“At two...,” she stutters.

“How do you know that” He mumbles with the weariness slightly returning to his eyes

“I was informed of the staff timetables,” she replies, a rehearsed response, without the colour from before.

“Right”

She hesitated; her hand then hovers momentarily in the space between them. But as quickly as the impulse came, she withdrew it before it went anywhere. In response his hand twitches ever so slightly, but not enough, left hanging motionlessly.

The awkwardness envelopes them, casting back to the familiar rhythm they shared, Racheal’s heart fluttered, heartbeats more disoriented, her mind racing at an unease as she pondered the significance of her unintended slip. However, admits the discomfort, she knows there's to many big things to admire such minutiae moments. It's all futile. So just before her shadow disappeared, she uttered something heartfelt, that she knew she would regret.

“There won't be that time for that.”

She paused just for moment too long as if she wanted to tell him something, but she changed her mind halfway like always. With that she sinks into the darkness, the thing that sparked drops obediently into the chasm and Sebastion's left in. One: adore. Two: suspicion.

Hurried footsteps from Racheal echoed as she enters the power storage the room is even more dull, the signs on the tubes attached to the walls are barely visible, as always. Quickly removing several heavy objects that, have been carefully placed since the day she arrived. Working with a sense of urgency. A Single footstep was sounded behind her, too quiet to halt her movements but loud enough for her to resistor its presence. Ignoring the interruption, she opens a door leading to a underground chamber.

 Sliding swiftly down the ladder, she lands silently on the concert floor, and her eyes twitch left and right scanning the monstrosity she made. Wires crisscrossed across the chamber, their red and blue rubber casing covering the walls, and stretching far into the heart of the city like veins pulsating with life. The network of wires connected the chamber to the sewage systems throughout the city, each somewhere tied to explosives disguised as innocuous boxes of tools.

With a sense of desperation, she made her way slowly towards the detonator carefully hidden behind a large tank of water, a relic from a time before her arrival. But just as she was approaching the tank, a sharp yet soft crack pierced the silence, a bullet grazed the sides of her hip, tore through her flesh, sending waves of searing pain through her body.

Reacting on instinct, she dashes behinds the metal steel boxes that she strategically placed. Another bullet found its mark striking her heavily on the lower left leg. But no sound emerged from her throat, the pain etching a grimace of agony across her face, but no longer than a moment.

The assailant dropped down from the ladder with a thud, heavy work boots signalling their approach. With a silent resolve, she reaches for her silencer concealed in the left pocket, the cold metal in her hands offered some reassurance. She realised both her and the assassin had equipped themselves with silencers, ensuring that their exchanged would remain unnoticed.

Peeking out from the barricade, she spots a flash of yellow, quickly ducking back as two bullets followed her retreat. The vest worn by Sebastian. Her first clench tightly, a bittersweet smile tugged at the corners of her lips but was bit down instantly. She tightens her fingers around the trigger, peaking out again firing three precise shots in response, ringing out with a sense of anger, betrayal, and sadness.

But her sudden adrenaline of vengeance clouded her aim, the fatal shot missed, only grazing the top of the assailant's arm where he held the gun. Hearing the metallic clatter of his fallen weapon she swings out to fire, but Sebastian had other plans, with lightning speed, he hurled a pocketknife straight for her right hand, the bullet misfires only to hit his right leg and she staggers ever so slightly as the blade embedded itself deeply into her flesh.

Although it found it mark, Sebastian showed no signs of retreat, as her gun drops to the ground, he closed the distance between them in the blink of an eye. His eyes ablaze with a primal fury, with her right hand rendered useless to the wound, she awkwardly tries to block his jab with her left. But his overwhelming strength sends her backwards, her balance lost precarious, falls heavily to the floor.

Sebastian draws another knife, its blade poised to deliver the final blow. With a surge of adrenaline, she uses her last strength to dodge its fatal ending, nonetheless the knife still plunged deep into her stomach with a sickening squelch. Grasping for air, she clenched her teeth against the agonizing pain, holds the knife in with her right hand refusing to let go of the blade protruding from her abdomen. At same time she mustered the strength to deliver a fierce headbutt to Sebastian, electing a pained groan from him.

But he recovered almost instantly, wrenching the knife from her grasp with a cruel twist, causing her to scream out in agony as the crimson tide of the blood emerged, painting the floor and her tattered cloak. Everything blurred into a nightmarish haze, as Sebastian lunged forward in a deadly silence, his eyes colder than ever, a chilling reminder of his merciless intent. She could feel the icy tendrils of dread creeping up to her paralyzing her with primal terror. His knife positioned to deliver the fatal blow to her heart.

But before the knife was even pulled from her, Racheal had already reached for the sharp hairpin nestled in her hair, in a split-second reaction, plunged it deeply into his neck just as he lunged for her heart. His body crumpled, to the ground. In the eerie stillness that followed only the velvet blood that flowed out showed that there was anything there at all.

With pure desire, she slowly crawled her way towards the detonator, each shuffle leaving a trail of blood behind her, but her face she seemed to have a sense of euphoria, a real smile that seemed so distant from the facade she wore in this world.

“All the years the world has felt so wrong, we spend our days chasing dreams that we’ve contorted to societal moulds. Ensnared by the shackles of time, with some unquenchable thirst for fulfilment. Enslaved to the unknown.

Are we really going anywhere or we always here, I want something that's mine. So, I forever will know where I stand. We really don't have any time to think about anything, maybe that's why I'm here right now. Here because of an afterthought, here because the world told me. I hope what I choose next truly is something that I control. After today ends, I want to have today again, before tomorrow starts…

As the detonator was pressed the city succumbed to a fiery apocalypse. Everything erupted into flames. The flames tore down every corner, the buildings and people devoured instantly with insatiable hunger. Everything crumbles like ancient monuments that succumb to their inevitable fate. The chaos swallowing it all with its voracious appetite.

The cracking inferno painted the sky with a hellish red glow, casting sinister reflections which mocked the world with a malevolent glee. Acrid stench of burning fragments filled the air whilst the flames grew louder, choking the sense and heralding the arrival of the merciless doom.

But against it all her lifeless form whispered into the abyss.

“Now.”

She whispers, in a way that she won’t quiet remember what she says, but over there, across the final mountains her eyes could have reached, over there she might just remember.

“We have all the time in the world.”