Chapter 2: Averie Quinn Auclair
In the middle of the night, on the bed of a dimly lit room, a man in his mid-20s woke up.
"Sweet Lucifer, thank you," he murmured smilingly.
Gene looked around, running his hand across the wall towards the closest window. He stretched a little to reach for it and—after a while of fumbling in the dark—opened it.
The cold wind that tugged at his hair sparked in him the most profound realization: he was alive. He pressed his hand against his chest. After half a century of Hell, his heart was beating again.
It was a beautiful night outside. The moon was partially hidden behind the passing clouds, and the city—what little he could make of it—was silent.
"Neither poor nor rich," he whispered, his gaze darting across the scenery. "This place must be for the middle class."
After a minute of silence, Gene turned around.
On the desk nearby, there was an odd thing emitting light. It had a flat screen and a keyboard attached to it.
’Is this what they call a laptop?’ he thought. ’Lucifer did say these things were invented after my death. What an odd thing.’
For about half an hour, he played around with the old laptop, muttering ’what an odd thing’ all the while. He couldn’t immediately utilize it. He was quick to adapt, so he wasn’t worried about it.
Gene searched the desk. There was an old wallet, a mobile phone, apartment keys, headphones, and some fiction books written in English. The wallet contained a few wrinkly notes, coins, a debit card, and a driver’s license.