Fog clouded my view from the gym window. Below, the city sprawled out like a tapestry of burning lights.

  The gym was quiet, filled with the beating sound of my weighty steps and uneven breath. I focused on the view and couldn't help but let my eyes drift to my reflection. My dirt blonde curls clung to my forehead like a wet mop, my green eyes were sharp and focused. Spending some time in the sun would do me good. At least I didn't look sickly. Rings of sweat colored my grey tee a shade darker; it stuck to my athletic build like a second skin. I was fit—but miserable.

  My grating breath was lead in my throat. I ached with each step on the treadmill. The machine helped soften the impact, but after running for more than an hour, I was hurting like hell, all because he signed us up for a marathon.

  I glanced to the side, earning me a blinding smile. Brad bounced up and down on his treadmill, always keeping an even rhythm. He loved this.

  I, on the other hand, hated running with a passion, but I made a habit of never skipping a cardio session, and a few months ago he'd seen me running in the gym and just assumed I was a runner like him.

  His excitement had been so splendid that I couldn't find it in myself to tell him the truth: that I did my cardio so that the geezers back home wouldn't run circles around me during our yearly sparring sessions.

  At least the misunderstanding got us talking, and ultimately earned me my first friend since moving to the big city, and his hellish training regime turned out to be a good supplement to the kickboxing and grappling I still practiced in the safety of my own apartment.

  Everyone fought back home; it had become religion in the small village. It was one of many things that I missed since moving to the place where everything felt wrong—Chicago.

  Life in the big city flashed before my eyes. People didn't even say hello when I passed on the street, and everyone was always in a hurry. At first it had been discombobulating, but after a while I eased into the lull of it, and ultimately learned what I hated most about the big city: predictability. Once you could see the patterns, people appeared more like mindless drones than people, and I tried desperately not to be part of it.

  Brad's presence had been a welcome change that brought an element of unpredictability. I only wished his company came without the torturous fate of endless cardio.

  "Come on, bro!" he urged from my side. "Just a little more and we'll be done for the day."

  His form was perfectly impeccable, back straight, steps light as a feather, all the while keeping a set rhythm of breathing in through the nose and out through the mouth.

  Not even speaking made a dent in his breathing pattern. We were perfect opposites.

  I glared at him and his eyes widened with excitement. Shit.I knew that look. He misinterpreted my glance as a need for motivation.

  "You got this!" he exclaimed, doubling down on the encouragement and further solidifying how much better his conditioning was than mine.

  I wanted to complain but had to save my breath. I couldn't let him down when he became like this. If there was one thing I disliked more than running, it had to be losing.

  I whipped my eyes back to the window. The sun colored the fog with a shade of fire, reminding me of the early hour. Running is not something you want to do before work, and yet we'd been running for more than an hour already.

  What a dreadful day.

  My only consolation was that the day would only get better from here.

  "Come on, Jackie, last stretch!" Only he and my family called me that. I much preferred Jax.

  I hardened my resolve, glancing down at the shiny red numbers on the treadmill's display.

  72 minutes, 14.9km. Far from good enough, but much better than my previous record. A pace of less than 5 minutes per kilometer.

  If I had the energy I'd smirk at the achievement. Improvement warrants pride, and I definitely earned the right to feel some.

  The machine beeped, signaling that we finally crossed the 15km mark. I used the armrests to lift myself above the rubber band and placed my feet on the solid parts of the machine. My chest heaved and I felt sweat pour in places I didn't know could sweat.

  "Never. Again," I managed between greedy gasps for breath.

  Brad laughed and skipped off the treadmill. His forehead was barely even glossy. "Oh come on, the race is next week. Can't have you giving up now. You're so close!"

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  He slicked his black hair back with a hand and smiled. Handsome even now. No wonder all the girls at the office pined for him. Beside him, I looked about as ragged as a twenty-five year old man could without having a heart attack.

  "I'm never gonna make it," I moaned.

  "Oh grow up, dude. You're ready. You don't even need to keep this pace at the race, most people barely even jog."

  "Then why push me?" I glared with accusation and he faked a gasp.

  He smirked. "I just want what's best for you, darling."

  "I almost died."

  The treadmill slowed gradually until it ground to a complete halt. I turned around with a moan and stepped off. My knees almost buckled. The gym was empty except for us. It always was. No one in their right mind would work out at the office before the sun rose.

  Except for him.

  And apparently me too.

  Before meeting Brad I would do my utmost to sleep as long as humanly possible before work. Just like the cardio, my job was just a means to an end: a way to pay the bills while living a decent enough life.

  He plopped down on his treadmill and opened his bag. As usual, he dug up two water bottles and tossed me one before having a sip of his own. "You're so dramatic! But, seeing as this," he said and eyed me up and down, "is my responsibility, I fear I have to be blunt. You're a mess."

  I grunted.

  He figured out that I wasn't a runner long ago. He wasn't stupid, no analyst of his caliber was. No matter how I tried to hide things, he could read me like an open book. He'd made no effort to ask me about it though. I figured he enjoyed my company in the early hours of the day.

  "Same time tomorrow?" he asked.

  I grunted again, this time in affirmation, and gulped down the water.

  He leaned forward with his elbows pressed against his knees. He glanced down at his watch and jumped back to his feet. "Shit!" he exclaimed. "I've got breakfast with Sakura in ten, I gotta run. Don't forget to finish the report or she's gonna kill you."

  I rolled my eyes at the threat. It wasn't completely empty. Sakura—our boss, and Brad's girlfriend—did not like me. It didn't take a genius to understand why. She hated that Brad spent more time with me than he did with her. In retaliation, she smiled at meetings and buried me in reports afterward, the kind that stretched into overtime. Brad called it a misunderstanding, I called it motivation to retire early.

  He waved his goodbye and hurried out the door. I smiled back until I couldn't see his back any longer. When I was safely out of sight I plopped down on a bench with a moan.

  "Sakura, huh?" I mouthed and scoffed. I shook my thighs with my hands and muttered, "Get it together Jackie."

  My legs quivered as I walked to the changing room. Fire-red lockers towered all the way to the ceiling. I plopped down in front of the one I'd claimed as my own.

  I had to peel my T-shirt off my body. With it off I leaned back against the cold of the metal. Unsanitary, but nice.

  Luckily I'd had the foresight to know today was going to suck in advance. My daily tasks had been planned around it. The only thing on my daily agenda was computer work, and my body yearned for the ergonomic chair right about now.

  I wrenched off my shoes and just as my bare feet touched the floor, the world shook like a waking beast. My pulse sped up. An earthquake?

  The lockers rattled against their hinges, filling the room with a metallic rumbling. The shaking stopped, and the world went quiet. I breathed a sigh of relief.

  A drip of water struck me on the head. I brushed it off my hair and looked up at a snaking crack in the roof. Moisture formed small droplets that barely clung to the white paint.

  I shifted in my seat. The floor vibrated under my feet, my sense of balance felt off. A faint scent of burning electronics drifted through the room. Discomfort coiled around my throat like a noose. I swallowed.

  It's probably nothing. Just an old building.

  My phone buzzed in my pocket. Brad.

  Holy shit did you feel that?!

  I tapped away a response. Scared the shit out of me. Are you on the ground?

  Again, my phone buzzed. Yeah just got to the café. Sakura ordered before I got here, isn't she cute?

  The message came with a picture of her smug grin and two fingers stretched into a victory sign as she stubbornly huddled both cups and plates from falling off with the other arm.

  I didn't know what to respond. Just as I was about to give up and send a thumbs up, the world shook for a second time.

  "What the..." I muttered.

  This time the shaking didn't stop. My heart raced. I scrambled to my feet and into the door vault leading to the showers. Earthquakes were a common enough occurrence that I knew what to do. I huddled up, making myself small by pressing my knees into my chest. And I waited.

  The lockers screamed as the bolts securing them to the wall were pulled loose. I recoiled away from them and prayed that they didn't fall before I could grab my shoes and a shirt.

  Wrong. My priorities were wrong.

  As if on cue, the lockers lurched forward and spilled my stuff all over the floor before striking the ground like metallic dominoes. Shit. This time, the quaking didn't stop. The floor vibrated and groaned miserably.

  I clenched the phone with both hands, waiting for an emergency message or something to start buzzing.

  I tapped the screen with shaky fingers, no connection it said.

  The paint in the ceiling cracked and peeled off and fell to the ground like tacky neon blue snow flakes. The cracks grew and spread across the walls and roof like a spider's web, growing deeper with each second. The building was crumbling. I could just tell.

  My instincts screamed at me to move. I buried them with logic. If the roof caved in then the safest place would be under bearing beams. Not out in the open.

  Just wait, Jackie.

  I shielded my head with my arms and curled into a ball. This couldn't be it. I couldn't die here, not like this. I still had so much to do, so much to see and experience. I never even got to retire early, enjoy my life and all that.

  Hope was abandoning me when shiny blue letters scribbled themselves into my sight.

  Threshold reached. System integration complete.

  I blinked. Once. Twice. Still I didn't understand what I was seeing.

  Altering reality.

  Warning! Building collapse due in: 4 minutes 59 seconds.

  Objective acquired: Escape before the collapse.

  Reward: N/A