The alarm clock went off. Jaxen tossed around in bed. He grabbed his pillow and covered his head with it, in a futile attempt to block out the noise. He let it ring, for just another minute, before finally flinging his pillow and bedsheets aside and sitting up to turn the alarm clock off.

He rubbed his eyes and peered at the hologram projection of the time right before him.

"8.30pm" it read.

Jaxen stood up, did some stretches before proceeding to the bathroom to do his washing up. In went a lethargic and unkept men, but out came a handsome, fine young gentlemen. His hair was set in place by gel and combed to the right. He donned a white shirt with a black blazer and wore black pants to match. In his hand held his suitcase. The treasure box in which his ingeniousness and cunning as a businessman lay hidden.

He stepped out of his apartment, closing the door behind him before heading to the nearby Teleport Transport Station. The streets at this time of day are always exceptionally crowded with people rushing off to work. In the distance he could hear a sizzle. A common sound. The bubbling and evaporating of water on the ground, superheated by the morning sun. Charred black street lamps lined the walkway, casting a soft glow on the pathway and creating shadows that stretched until it merges with the darkness. Overhead was the Dome. The almost invisible barrier that had been erected to protect the people from the Sun. At night, it was of no particuular use, but come daytime it would be their only hope of survival.

Behind the Dome was the infinite darkness of space. The empty void which is not so empty. Stars, glowing in an icy blue hue, pierced through the darkness, making themselves seen as the jewels of the sky.