《Fons》 I - The Boy on the Sidewalk He donned a beige overcoat and long black jeans. Sprawled on crusty asphalt and the stiff sidewalk, he could feel the softest pitter-patter of rain on his open palms. The warm glow of a streetlamp watched over him, dangling like ornaments on a Christmas tree. What am I? Something was protruding on his side. A nagging sensation. Bending over to his side revealed a brown satchel, a thin leather handle draped over his left shoulder. The worn gold button gave a clicking sound, as the satchel flap opened wide, like that of a twisting key. In lay a book, weathered with time. Curious. Maybe this would have answers. The boy opened the book, poring over the first page. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. FONS. That is who you are. What lies in this book will guide you through existence, should you follow its suggestions- -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The sky cried down on him. Momentarily pausing, he picked himself up, lumbering over to the framed park bench. Fons. That is who I am. fons...Fons. So many more questions. Fons furrowed his brow. Was it sweat or rain? Rain? Sweat? What was going on? II - Cuckoo "You with the white hair and the sherlock holmes getup, you good? hangover? Here, better take this" Fons flinched. His vision was blurry, the world looking more and more like a fishbowl to him. Rain poured down around him, an orange umbrella held over him by an outstretched arm. A figure stood before him. As for his question... "Hangover? W-w-who are you?" The figure stared at him for a second, looking him up and down. "Name''s Silas. Damn dude, looks like you''re in a fix..." "....Hangover?" The figure- Silas, sighed. Doing a tired cuckoo sign, he put a hand on Fons'' shoulder. "Look dude, can you tell me your address or something? I could give you a lift.". He motioned at Fons'' coat, by then smudged over with rain. "Address?" Another sigh. "Today? Really?", Silas muttered to himself. "Come with me", he said, striding off into the distance "..." "You just going to sit there? Come on!" And Fons stood up. Much to his surprise, walking felt normal. Natural. "Stop staring around, I''ll drag you if you dilly-dally any longer. My apartment shouldn''t be too far away." Silas cut through the rain sleekly. His slinking steps glided. One, two, one, two- his steps were rhythmic, boots splashing on every puddle on the ground. After what seemed like a minute, or maybe ten, they reached big building. It had swooping boards and flying metal carriages. "You got a card for the Trider?" Another foreign word. Fons motioned his mouth, almost forming the beginnings of a "w" before Silas shook his head and waved it off.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. "Forget it" They kept walking. They approached a row of turnstiles, where Silas waved for a ticket lady''s attention. He pointed to Fons, raising his eyebrows and giving her a knowing look. She motioned for him and Fons to go to the counter. "Another one?" "Yeah, he''s pretty badly hungover. That, or he hit his head too hard." Another cuckoo motion. "I think I''ll check him up. Can''t trust him not to walk off the edge of the platform...". The lady exhaled loudly, producing two tickets from the counter and punching them with a chick. "Platform 701 I''m assuming. Two stops" "You got it" This "Trider" whistled along the landscape, sun peeking out form behind a stormy cloud, rays seeping through its mist. Fons'' overcoat slowly drying, the grates wheezed out gusty warm air. *Ahnlo-Poma. Passengers on the outer platform, please wait for commuters on the Trider to exit before boarding* Silas stopped him before Fons could even think of stepping that foot out the sliding doors. "Next one''s us" Sitting back down, Fons took a glance at Silas up and down. The man wore a green turtleneck, his black eyes punctuating a scruffy beard. He wore a tired expression, his faces lined with dissolving black grime. And on his left cheek, an imprinted red sore. Maybe he glanced a bit too close. "Woah woah there now, give me some space. Ask all you like when we get to my place. See, it''s already our stop." *Dolisto. Passengers on the outer platform, please wait for commuters on the Trider to exit before boarding* Fons swallowed his thoughts as they disembarked, Silas feeding the tickets to a machine and making headway towards a counter "We''re home", he announced. "You live here? Near all the tr-tri-" "Triders. Yeah, that''s right. Over here." Tapping in a few digits, Silas unlocked the the door. They walked into a cramped one-bedroom apartment with barely enough room for a bookshelf and an oculus window. "Close the door behind you. Thank you." Silas sat in a large grey cushioned armchair. His legs crossed over one another. Finally releasing, he asked: "I have two questions. Firstly: What was your name again? And secondly: What are you doing?" "I believe my name is Fons." "And the second question?" ... III - In the Satchel ¡°I don¡¯t know what I¡¯m doing¡±, Fons breathed. His pale skin looked almost paperish in the window¡¯s soft afterglow. ¡°Well, have a seat, and perhaps you¡¯ll remember better¡±, Silas gestured to the velvet carpet. ¡°It¡¯s not ideal, but you¡¯ll have to bear with it. Not much space within these walls.¡± Fons sat. The silence that followed had an almost ethereal, airy nature to it. Silas studied the boy- or was it a man, in front of him. His shoulders straightened, almost as if he were a runner preparing for a marathon. Both looked expectantly to the other, the momentary pause turning into an uncomfortable silence. It was only as Fons¡¯ crimson eyes began to glaze over that Silas took matters into his own hands. ¡°Okay, let''s start from the beginning then. If you don¡¯t know what you were doing, what¡¯s the last thing you remembered?¡± This so-called ¡°easy¡± question was really just a lateral movement¡­ ¡°The last thing I remember is waking up near the bench I met you at.¡±. Fons strained as hard as he could,but nothing would come to him. ¡°You don¡¯t remember anything before today?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t remember anything.¡± ¡°Your childhood? Parents? Friends?¡± ¡°...I don¡¯t quite understand¡± Silas gave Fons an incredulous look. ¡°Then how the hell do you know how to speak? How do you recognise anything? Do you have a phone or something?¡± ¡°Fone?¡± ¡°Ph-one.¡± What even was this ¡°phone¡±? Silas was right, this sequence of events makes no sense at all. Why was he even in a stranger¡¯s apartment? Shuffling around, Fons remembered the satchel. The book! While the satchel had seen better days, perhaps the book escaped the rain¡¯s outburst. It had. Apart from a few droplets on its spine, The Manual to Existence (V00), was serviceable. ¡°A book? There¡¯s really nothing else in there, huh?¡±. Fons pointed to the cover page. ¡°When I came to, this was the only thing inside.¡± Silas sized the book up and down. ¡°Tsk. What¡¯s up with this title? The Manual to Existence...you don¡¯t remember this?¡± Fons shook his head. ¡°Well then, maybe you should. I¡¯m not one to intrude into others¡¯ privacy. It could help you remember something, at least. Or possibly give us an explanation on how someone as well kept as you ended up sprawled on a park bench like they were receiving Jesus.¡± Silas pointed to the grandfather clock in the wall. Almost 5pm. The storm clouds were quickly dissipating and giving way to the beginnings of a glowing moon. ¡°You¡¯re lucky I¡¯m a nice guy. I¡¯ll set something to eat while you look through that there. Give me around fifteen minutes or so. I trust you¡¯re not a picky eater- well you wouldn¡¯t know anyways, would you?¡± Silas gave a small smile to himself. Handing the book over the Fons, he left to a small countertop tucked in the corner of the room. So what exactly was in front of Fons? Fons eyes widened at the book before him, hands feeling over its rounded edges, admiring every indent, every defect. Slowly, he opened the first page, picking up where he left off.If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.
FONS. That is who you are. What lies in this book will guide you through existence, should you follow its suggestions. It contains the very foundation of which humanity¡¯s existence is based on. Fons, if you do not understand anything else from this manual, you ought to remember this one point.
  1. THIS MANUAL ANSWERS ALL THE QUESTIONS, EXCEPT THE ONES WITHOUT ANSWERS
Navigate to the ¡°Table of Contents on the next page. It should help you to journey the rest of the manual. You would be advised to read, ¡°About you¡± starting off, before you begin the setup series
Hmph. Table of contents it was. Fons pushed aside a pesky tuft of hair and soldiered onwards.
TABLE OF CONTENTS:
  1. MAKER¡¯S NOTE (!!!)
  2. ABOUT YOU 2.1 - DROIDS 2.2 - DEFAULTS 2.3 - PURPOSE
  3. THE WORLD AROUND YOU 3.1 - EARTH 3.2 - AB OVO 3.3 - PEOPLE & OTHER ANIMALS
  4. SETUP SERIES 4.1 - THE FOUR NECESSITIES, WHAT MAKES THE WORLD TURN 4.2 - THE OTHER ESSENTIAL NON-ESSENTIALS 4.3 - STARTUP PHASE 1: ESTABLISHMENT 4.4 - STARTUP PHASE 2: STABILISING 4.5 - STARTUP PHASE 3: BASIC INTEGRATION PT.1 4.6 - STARTUP PHASE 4: BASIC INTEGRATION PT.2
  5. GRADUATE SERIES 5.1 - EDUCATION AT A GLANCE 5.2 - EDUCATION INSTITUTIONS 5.3 - EDUCATION MECHANISMS 5.4 - SUB TOPIC: CAREERS 5.5 - CONNECTIONS PHASE 1: COMMUNICATE 5.6 - CONNECTIONS PHASE 2: LINK 5.7 - CONNECTIONS PHASE 3: MEANING
  6. COMPLEMENTARY SERIES 6.1 - TRAVEL 6.2 - CULTURE 6.3 - ENTERTAINMENT AND MEDIA
  7. QUESTIONS 7.1 - ANTICIPATED QUESTIONS 7.2 - QUESTIONS WITHOUT ANSWERS 7.3 - THE CURRENT SITUATION
  8. DICTIONARY
Bombarded with an utter sea of information, the table of contents stemmed over a page and a half long. Part one, two three, four¡­ it seemed never-ending. While his eyes were drawn to the highlighted, ¡°Maker¡¯s note¡±section, Fons elected to browse the aforementioned, ¡°About you¡±section instead. He turned to 1.1. Fons felt a painful, pulsating sensation on his right temple. What was a droid anyways? Yet another word he didn¡¯t understand...
1.1 - DROIDS YOU ARE A NELO-572 NAMED FONS. You are not like those around you. You are a droid, not a human. If you want to prove this, draw three small circles around the upper left section of your chest. *Dictionary: ¡°A DROID is typically a robot with human-like features-
¡°I¡¯m not human?¡± Fons gulped. Weren¡¯t all the people around him humans? Were some of them not? His words didn¡¯t fall on deaf ears. ¡°Say what??¡± Silas exclaimed. ¡°This thing says i¡¯m not like those around me¡± ¡°Pffft! What do you mean, ¡°Not like those around me¡±. Get over yourself. Maybe I¡¯ll slice your arm open to check¡± ¡°Maybe I can prove it...¡± ¡°Go for it¡±, Silas¡¯ eyes narrowed. Fons tentatively raised his index finger, placing it over his chest as specified. Three small circles¡­ IV - Droid...
1.1 - DROIDS (CONTINUED) In Science Fiction Frequently showcased in such works, droids are used to assist humans in tasks, varying from mundane day-to-day work to larger mechanical ones. They are not capable of human thought.¡± Now, Fons, this is where you separate from ¡°just another droid¡±. Conscious thought is a blessing. By all the common metrics, you are alive. Use this wisely. In terms of your model specifications: Biological Age: 17 Height: 180 centimeters Physical Disposition: Crimson eyes, Albino features in hair and face Diagnostic Range: 8 Years per diagnostic Proof Mechanism: Draw two small circles (clockwise) over where the human heart would be. After processes, draw two more circles (anticlockwise). (10 second time frame to fully reveal/close chamber). Your model, a NELO-572, is a diagnostic droid. This means you will never ¡°die¡± in the traditional sense of the word. Instead, every 5 years you must have a ¡°diagnostic¡±. This is where your machinery is checked and optimised for use. (Note: As you never die, you never age greater than your biological age) Major Differences between you and a ¡°Normal Human being¡±
  1. You are a Droid
  2. You do not die
  3. You do not need to eat
  4. You do not age
  5. You require diagnostic maintenance
(In reference to the third point, due to being a droid and having diagnostics, you do not need to eat as humans do to survive. While you are capable of temporary food consumption, a diet like that of a human would not be beneficiary to your systems. In fact, you would be advised to drink at least a litre of lubricant per week. This will ensure smooth operations.) So overall, you aren¡¯t very different at all. Only in the places you would expect, being a droid. Important note: Oftentimes, being a droid comes with the stigma that you are inferior. This is largely due to the portrayal of droids in science fiction. When introducing yourself to someone, you would be advised against leading with, ¡°I am a droid¡±. Instead, ¡°I¡¯m Fons (insert detail about your life)¡±, would be a better option (For more information on Greetings, you would be advised to navigate to part 4.5 - basic integration). As you are capable of conscious thought, do not categorise yourself with Droids of the past. You are Fons.
The soft whir of machinery hummed gently. Over the area Fons drew over, skin started to melt away, like ice into water. ¡°Hmm, doesn¡¯t look like anything¡¯s happening.¡±This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. ¡°I¡¯ll take my coat off so we can see the inside¡± Taking his coat off revealed a patch of skin. Well, not exactly skin. Above his chest, the skin had fully disappeared. Inside lay a chamber of sorts, where his heart was meant to be. It was as empty as a desert cavern. ¡°What the-¡±, Silas gave him a startled gaze. ¡°What are you?¡± ¡°I am Fons.¡± ¡°Are you an alien or something? Are you not telling me something? Know that I¡¯m armed and prepared. You should see the people I deal with.¡±. His voice was slowly rising. ¡°I am a droid...¡± Pointing to an excerpt from 2.1, Fons recited, ¡°I am a droid capable of conscious thought (...) By all the common metrics, I am alive.¡± Deep breathes, deep breathes, Silas muttered to himself. ¡°How do I trust you? Because I¡¯m trying really hard right now and it isn¡¯t easy.¡±. Fons could feel Silas¡¯ gaze glued to the gap in his chest. He quickly drew two small circles in the opposite direction, his ¡°skin¡±, starting to reform over it. Pulling his overcoat back on, the gap was covered again. ¡°Because I really know nothing¡±. And that was true. Another long pause. Silas¡¯ sharp scrutiny of Fons was, oddly, every bit as fearful as it was enticed. It was like a father admiring his child¡¯s birth. Fons closed the book shut and let it lay on the velvet carpet. A warm fuchsia wafted in from the window, the sun setting ever so slowly on the two sitting in silence. Di-di-di-di-DING! ¡°That¡¯s the microwave. We continue this at dinner, barring you actually eat food¡±. Silas slowly got up and roamed towards a small metallic box the size of a toaster. Fons elected not to tell Silas that eating food was in fact unnecessary for him. Fons was beginning to realise that, for an apartment this small, clearly an inch hadn¡¯t been wasted. Silas presented two bowls, steaming hot. They both contained some sort of foreign mush. ¡°It¡¯s rolosk. Here in Ab Ovo, it¡¯s basically the only thing I can feasibly afford to eat most days of the week.¡± Fons took a spoon. It was tart and creamy, coating the insides of his mouth. ¡°Now, while I am partially terrified, I still want to understand the being in front of me.¡±, Silas said. ¡°What else did that book tell you?¡± ¡°In terms of my specifications, it says I am a Nelo - 572. Aside from details on my machinery, it has yet to explain what I am doing here. Perhaps it will say in the 2.3 - Purpose.¡±. ¡°I know I said that I didn¡¯t like interfering in others¡¯ affairs, but I think this is warranted, given the circumstances. May I? I¡¯ll just do a very surface level browse¡±. Silas motioned to the manual in Fons¡¯ lap. ¡°...Sure¡± Flipping through the book, Silas¡¯ eyes widened at certain parts. Reading 2.1, he mouthed the word, droid, slowly. Basic integration...Education¡­ ¡°Damn, this book is kinda stacked. It really is a manual¡±. ¡°Does that mean I¡¯m okay?¡± ¡°Well, okay enough that I wouldn¡¯t report this to the police.¡± Fons exhaled a sigh of relief. That sounded good. ¡°So far, from this manual thing I¡¯ve gleaned that the author would like you to learn how to live. How to exist in this world. And based on the state you were in a few hours ago, I think you have a lot of learning to do. If I could, I would be happy to let you crash here for a day or two before stabilising. But as you can see¡­¡±, signalling at the single bed, ¡°...there¡¯s not much space. If you would like to sleep on the carpet, that¡¯s fine by me though. Just make sure you read whatever that manual is. It seems like the author knew a thing or two about life.¡± ¡°Are you sure? You¡¯re trusting me to sleep here?¡± ¡°Dude, the more I think about it, the clearer it is: You¡¯re a blank canvas. It doesn¡¯t seem like you knew you were a droid until you read the manual. I¡¯ll still keep my guard up, of course. If anything, you should question if you can trust me or not¡±. Silas took a spoonful of the rolosk. ¡°Ahhh! Tastes like life¡­¡±. Fons mulled over Silas¡¯ point. How could he trust Silas? Well, who else would there have been to trust? He didn¡¯t really have another option. ¡°If you could let me stay the night, I would be truly grateful.¡± V - Manners
3.2 - AB OVO Ab Ovo is an independent city-state. Located in the south of the globe, it is widely considered to be one of the most technologically developed places in the world. Heralded for its developed infrastructure and towering high rise buildings, one would need sharp street smarts and persistence to live in this sink-or-swim nation. This is a perfectly democratic nation. Led by an AI system, every idea is valued. As a member of Ab Ovo, you have the right to vote on any issue of your choosing (For those 18 and above). Due to the efficiency of operations, Ab Ovo can afford to entertain ideas of any kind. In terms of education systems, Ab Ovo is well-versed with various universities offering a variety of courses. From architecture to advertising, career options are almost endless. A bustling economy encourages entrepreneurs to test themselves in what is perhaps the fastest nation in the world. Population: 10,020,027 Area: 618 km2 Literacy rate: 98.2% (15 years and above) GDP (as per 2535) : 512,354,727 Credits As space is limited, and with a population of over 10 million, policies have been implemented restricting birth rate and immigration. While met with initial backlash, many have accepted its importance. Furthermore, one can often see tall high rise housing apartments called tohmons, sometimes housing up to 1,500 people per block. *For more information regarding common communication with Ab Ovians, refer to 5.5 - Connections phase 1
It was not a forgiving night for Fons. He tossed and turned in bed, unable to escape his racing mind. It seemed as if he were just as confused as Silas was. Lying on the floor, the warmth of the sun had already been replaced by cold winds and a glimmering moon in the night sky. Dinner plates from the evening had been hastily stuffed in the dishwasher that was starting to cause a racket, water swirling and splashing. Not to mention Fons¡¯ sleeping partner. Silas had lumbered into a single bed along the wall which creaked as he breathed in and out. A true orchestra of the night. Fons wasn¡¯t ¡°sleepy¡± at all. He hadn¡¯t even changed into ¡°pyjamas¡± like Silas did. Dressed in the same clothes he wore in the afternoon, It felt as if every fibre of his body was buzzing. The door called to him. One step, two steps. It would just be some time outside. Where he could stretch his legs and be devoid of the confines of the apartment. Chick. Funny. The door hadn¡¯t opened like it did earlier in the afternoon. Fons recalled Silas tapping in some sort of key on a keypad. But there wasn¡¯t a keypad at all on the inside. What to do, what to do¡­ Maybe another try. Chick. Another? Chick. Fons peeked his right eye through a gap in the door. Regardless of the hour, it was buzzing outside. He looked towards the Oculus window. A canvas of stars and illuminated buildings filled his vision. ¡°Back to sleep, dude¡± Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Insides squirming, Fons headed back to the carpet. He would explore another day. Now would be time to, ¡°fall asleep¡±. It hadn¡¯t been listed as a difference between droids and humans, thus this should be entirely possible for him. It may have taken fifteen minutes. It may have taken two hours. But slowly, Fons felt sleep take over him. Sinking into the floor, eyelids collapsing, his eyes rolled to the back of their sockets, his body drifting into a cozy, foreign, sleep.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
Sun shining, birds chirping, Fons awoke the following day. Peeling open his eyes, out the corner of his vision he spotted Silas back near the microwave. ¡°Look at you, awake in the morning. I thought it would just be me here.¡±. Silas ushered Fons to a chair next to the countertop and after explaining to Fons what a Pancake was, sat down himself with a tall mug of brown liquid. ¡°It¡¯s coffee. The elixir of life.¡±, he said, looking at Fons expectantly. ¡°Good morning.¡± ¡°And?¡± What did Silas mean? Perhaps Fons needed to do something with his facial expression? Did he want to read the book? ¡°You sure slept soundly, huh?.¡±, Silas said ¡°It was actually hard to sleep¡± ¡°Well, it wasn¡¯t easy for me to sleep when someone was attempting to escape during the night¡­¡± So that¡¯s what Silas was talking about. Fons¡¯ late night escapade attempt. But for what? ¡°What am I supposed to do?¡± There was a pregnant pause. Silas rubbed his temples. Fons heard him muttering, It¡¯s too early for this. ¡°Does that book not come with a ¡°manners¡± section? Like, how to talk to people. Maybe you should read that. Actually, make that a priority. It¡¯s only 7:20, we have a bit of time.¡± Based on the note from 3.2, Talking to Ab Ovians would be in 5.5 - Connections, Fons assumed. Skimming it, Fons¡¯ eyes picked up a section named Manners.
5.5 - Manners: It is important to ensure that one is not a nuisance to others, or comes across as a burden. Especially in a place like Ab Ovo. When disrupting their privacy or peace, being aware of your actions is of chief importance. Actions recognising one''s impact on others, and general caring would be considered ¡°Manners'''' and is smiled upon in society. Sincerity is key, thus making eye contact and acknowledging others is the backbone of interpersonal relationships. Especially ¡°sorry¡±. Remember, ¡°sorry¡±. It is extremely effective. Ex. Person A is looking to leave the room. They need to use the bathroom. However, they are currently in the middle of a conversation with Person B Person A: ¡°Uhm, I really would like to get back to this, but may I use the bathroom? I¡¯m so sorry.¡± Person B: ¡°Of course.¡¯ While it may seem as if this was unnecessary, it was important for Person A to establish that they were interrupting the flow of conversation, and were not bored of talking to Person B. (Even if Person A were bored, this would still be a necessary step showing good manners)-
Ah. He must have interrupted Silas¡¯ sleep. Fons looked Silas dead in the eyes. ¡°Uhm, I really am sorry, sorry for keeping you up last night. I¡¯m so sorry.¡± Silas gave him a look. His brow had been scrunched until that moment. Then it slowly broke out into a consoling, sympathetic smile. ¡°I guess I could accept that as an apology.¡± ¡°Did I do it right?¡± ¡°Sorta¡±. He gestured towards the plate of Pancakes. ¡°You gonna eat those?¡± Fons admitted it. ¡°I, as a droid, do not require food. I can consume it, but would be advised against it in large quantities. Though I have been suggested weekly consumption of lubricant¡­¡± ¡°Then why the hell did you...nevermind.¡± Silas proceeded to cover his stack with what seemed like the whole canister of whipped cream and chomped a bite larger than his mouth. In between bites, he began to explain the plan. ¡°Since I can¡¯t quite trust you home alone, you should come with me to work with that book of yours. Make sure you take in as much of that as you can. Crossing my fingers it gives you proper instructions.¡± ¡°To work?¡± ¡°Yeah! Breakfast is over, Fons. The morning is where a real man starts his day.¡± Chucking the crockery back in the dishwasher, Silas pulled his boots on, grabbed a backpack, and marched out the front door. ¡°You coming or not?¡± Fons got up as well. VI - Stationed in Action
Excerpt from ¡°A Manual To Existence¡± - 2.2 - Defaults - Base Language Base Words: As you may already know, a NELO Droid like you is intended to be a highly functioning droid. Hence, you will be spared the jump from a baby to understanding standard language. The vocabulary of a standard 17 year old who has lived outside of a city like Ab Ovo has been transcribed to you. Of course, this doesn¡¯t mean you will not need to learn colloquialisms and urban vocabulary during your existence. While this usually takes the average human being a decade or so to fully internalise, many find that living in the environment where they pick up a new way of speaking to be far more effective. In case you are curious to study common colloquialisms in Ab Ovo, do refer to the ¡°Dictionary¡¯ section of this manual. Base words and forming sentences with such words would be largely simple for you, yet the application of new words in foreign contexts may give you a hard time, as you would not have memory of such contexts.
Walking through the building (train station, Silas referred to it as), Fons noticed a similar sight to the afternoon before. Packed with humans carrying an assortment of briefcases, luggage, or satchels, almost everyone walked with purpose. A collective, clink, clank, click or shoe heels marching on marble flooring filled an already intense atmosphere. ¡°Almost no one in Ab Ovo is ready to be friends all of a sudden. You seeing these people?¡± Fons shrunk away from a particularly demeaning glance. ¡°Half of them haven¡¯t had their morning coffee yet, are late for work, or both. Dolisto has a particularly high concentration of the working class...the people who work day jobs which turn into night jobs... so expect a train station to contain even more tired people in the morning.¡± ¡°I see¡­¡±. Fons didn¡¯t notice the deliberate steps the day before, but it was definitely there in the morning. ¡°Anyways, I should explain where we¡¯re going to you.¡± Right, just where was Silas¡¯ job? ¡°We¡¯re actually going to Ahnlo-Poma¡± ¡°Ahnlo-Poma? Wasn¡¯t that one of the...one of the stops on the way to Dolisto?¡±, said Fons, vaguely remembering the journey of the day before. ¡°That¡¯s right. Simply put, I work as a train inspector. While the pay isn¡¯t very good, I think it¡¯s important work.¡± ¡°And what does a train inspector do?¡±Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. ¡°We make sure the Trider system runs smoothly and people behave themselves. You¡¯ll see. My shifts - timings where I work, are every day from seven in the morning to three in the afternoon, weekdays. On weekends I work the second night shift, eleven at night to seven in the morning again. You¡¯re lucky yesterday was thursday, that¡¯s the only reason I was able to be out of the station in the afternoon.¡± They fast approached a ticket station, where Silas instructed Fons on how to buy a Trider card. A sleek card, the thickness of Fons¡¯ middle finger, was given to him. ¡°This thing has two hundred credits in it, so it should last a while. It¡¯s on me.¡± ¡°On you? And what is a credit?¡± ¡°I meant that I¡¯ll pay for it. And credits are Ab Ovo¡¯s currency - the type of money we use in Ab Ovo. One train ride would set you back a credit per stop, so many people use it as their way of transport.¡± ¡°Thank you for paying for my Trider card. I do not want to be an inconvenience.¡± ¡°Well, there¡¯s not much you can do about that now¡±, Silas said as he wore a wry grin, ¡°Now to Ahnlo-Poma¡±
Ahnlo-Poma felt like another extension of Dolisto, if the grandfather who lived next door decided to give it a little re-up. Gone were the marble floorings of Dolisto, replaced with a similar material to the velvety carpet of Silas¡¯ apartment. It still bore the same difficulty to navigate as Dolisto had presented, not so much as a labyrinth as a corn maze. ¡°Here¡¯s my office¡± Leading him to a steel sliding door, Silas tapped in yet another pin code and opened what looked similar to a walk in wardrobe. Inside lay an assortment of clothes and a large monitor. ¡°You see, I have the pleasure of working as a Malwand. In Ab Ovo, sometimes things get hairy on a train. It¡¯s my job to prevent these things from happening, which really does save the Tride - The group who runs the Trider, a substantial amount of credits. Never know when some edgy teenager is going to jump.¡± ¡°Jump?¡± ¡°Yeah, jump. I¡¯ve been working as a Malwand for the better part of three years and you¡¯d be surprised at the things people do on the Trider¡± ¡°Three years only?¡± ¡°Hey, it¡¯s way longer than you¡¯ve been around. And what¡¯s that supposed to mean? I¡¯m twenty two, not thirty eight you know?¡± ¡°Sorry¡± Fons glanced at the wardrobe of clothes. Inside lay a variety of outfits. It seemed like three people¡¯s wardrobe¡¯s in one. ¡°Don¡¯t judge my fashion sense. Besides, who knows what situation would occur where an outfit change is in need? Wear this jacket?¡±. Silas pulled out a noticeably plain bomber jacket. ¡°...No thank you¡± Shrugging to himself, Silas wore the jacket himself.
On the Trider, things seemed oddly tranquil. Why does it seem like every time you wait for something to happen, nothing really occurs? Passengers sat square in their seats. Some tapped words out on laptops. Others murmured conversations. But largely, nothing- Silas snorted. ¡°That lady over there? The one with that weird lump in her jacket? She''s bad news¡± Statement redacted. VII - Malwand
Excerpt from ¡°A Manual to Existence¡± - 3.3 - People and other Animals - Personality PERSONALITY: While sometimes left unconsidered, personality is part of what makes humans unique. Difficult to describe with a simple word or phrase, ¡°personality¡±, may be considered as a person¡¯s flavour. The way they act. How they perceive events around them. How they perceive themselves From ¡°Dictionary¡± component: Personality: A person¡¯s traits and how such traits interact/are perceived by others In existence, personality is not a simple checkbox to a person. Commonly influenced by surrounding environments and close contacts, it is an inherent characteristic many people possess. Common examples of someone¡¯s personality may be: generosity, selflessness, optimism, etc¡­ These traits may change over time due to the person¡¯s surroundings, and as such it is difficult to find two people who act in a perfectly similar fashion. For you, Fons, it may be wise to focus on certain facets of personality more so than others. Positive personality traits like loyalty and resilience are greatly prioritised worldwide, and doubly so in Ab Ovo. Keeping this in mind and emulating traits that resulted in positive interactions with others will help you to reach new heights in existence.
Fons took a closer look. Sitting across he and Silas was a woman that looked like every other Ab Ovian Fons had seen that day. A large black briefcase. Large, rounded sunglasses. Pointed nose and an unreadable expression. ¡°Who is she?¡± ¡°She¡¯s Rinro Fernie. The Malwand Ring recognises her as a known perpetrator. She was convicted for stealing a 40,000 credit diamond ring a week ago and is on the run¡±, Silas whispered. His eyes narrowed, ¡°But in that case, why would she be riding so casually on the Trider?¡±. He shook his head, ¡°Well, no reason to wait around. Stay where you are, Fons¡±. Diamond ring? Perpetrator? Only able to sit and watch the events unfold, Fons resigned to a seat opposite the woman. Calmly walking over, Silas took a seat next to the lady. Tapping Rinro on her shoulder, he flashed a ¡°MALWAND¡± card out of his jacket pocket with a sly grin. Rinro didn¡¯t flinch. ¡°Get your buddy over here. He should hear this too¡± Silas shook his head, reaching into his back pocket. Until the lady pulled out a slender looking box out of her jacket pocket and whispered something else into Silas¡¯ ear. Confusing. Silas slowly walked back over and sat next to Fons, mouthing ¡°shush¡± and putting a finger over his lips. Quietly, using what seemed like a miniature pencil, he scribbled out a note on his left palm. Fons- Danger. Button. Collision. Bad. Death. Careful.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Fons noticed Rinro motioning for him to come over, patting the empty seat next to her. Noticing her, Silas gave Fons a pained expression and gestured her way. ¡°You¡¯re new on the job, aren¡¯t you?¡±, Rinro whispered. ¡°First day in the office?¡±. ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Let me explain the situation to you. Listen, I know you Malwands know who I am. Whoop dee doo. That doesn¡¯t mean you¡¯re going to get me today.¡± Dangling the box and opening it like a pearl, she revealed a small button inside. ¡°One click and the lines switch. The trains between Yondar and Flot station suddenly realise their magnets have been turned off.¡±. She crushed her palm into a fist. ¡°You know what¡¯s gonna happen now? I¡¯m going to leave and you boys aren¡¯t going to say a word about it.¡±. Her face morphed into a crooked smile. ¡°Malwands sure are useless aren¡¯t they? I thought they''d gone extinct by now. It surprised me that some kid like you would join. Besides, what¡¯s so wrong with taking a little from the rich? They don¡¯t need another draedo, do they?¡± Fons looked back at Silas. His expression was impossible to read, lost in thought yet silently burning with anger. So Malwands weren¡¯t all that? He could see the inherent problem with taking something that wasn¡¯t yours, that would be bad manners. It was wrong. But taking something that someone else would already have more than enough of? That didn¡¯t sound too wrong. In fact, that might even be more equal sharing. One should be selfless and generous to progress in existence¡­ He looked back, noticing that he was still within ten centimeters of Rinro. This was clearly a breach of personal space, wasn¡¯t it. ¡°Sorry.¡± ¡°Idiot¡± And Rinro Fernie disappeared
Way too many things happened at once. Fons had failed to notice the Trider announcer giving the call that they had just reached the next station: Crusoe. He failed to realise that while trying to give Rinro some space, she had swiftly gotten up without missing a beat. Tucking the box within her palm, thumb hovering over the push button, she waved goodbye to Silas, patting his head as she strode out the Trider¡¯s open door and into the sea of people. Silas cursed under his breath. That wasn''t all. On the seat she sat in, a sticker had been left behind. Have a great day, Malwand! <3 Silas fumed.
¡°Why you still sitting there like that?¡±. Silas took a look at Fons. ¡°You¡¯ve been sat there staring into space for the last twenty minutes, wake up. We gotta go¡± ¡°Huh?¡± ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s lunch break.¡± ¡°I¡¯m a droid, I do not-¡± ¡°But I do, so we¡¯re going.¡±. Apparently they had already reached Waro station, one stop after Rinro had disembarked. It was basically a carbon copy of Dolisto. Long moving platforms (walkalators) and the thumping of footsteps, the only difference was the flooring. Gone were the marbled tiles of Dolisto and in went a glossy wooden floor. They sat at a vacant bench, Silas producing a flask of what looked like Rolosk from the night before. Eating it in an empty silence , Fons pondered the pieces of information he had received. Pieces that just didn¡¯t fit. Silas didn¡¯t deserve the life of a Malwand. It did not seem like a stable existence at all. More so, did Rinro really have the wrong idea? ¡°....Why are you a Malwand, Silas?¡± Silas¡¯ face darkened. ¡°Because I wouldn¡¯t be sitting here today if it weren¡¯t for one.¡±