Chapter Text
"Ya'ne."
The world is swallowed in black fog and your eyes are useless. You let your arms reach out ahead of you, hoping to grab something, anything. Feet shuffle anxiously forwards, unsure where a wall or drop will be in front of them. You feel so useless.
"Ya'ne."
Bony hands covered in cold, necrotic skin grasp at your ankles as the floor dissolves to dust. They climb their way up your thighs, grabbing at your naked body. You're being dragged down. There is nothing you can do.
"Ya'ne. Look at me, Ya'ne. Come to me."
Something pierces the darkness. It's a figure shining eerily like an eclipsed sun: light seems to come from behind it rather than from the figure itself. A hand outstretches. You can already feel the life radiating from it.
"It's not far. I know it's hard, Ya'ne, but it's possible. I believe in your abilities."
It's too hard. Too far. The dead hands are already past your waist, and the sea of fingers and palms is quickly approaching eye level. It's already over. Your own limbs can't move for shit. You are shit. Everything is shit. You melt into the evening.
This is where you should be.
"Ya'ne. This is your morning alarm."
Theres so much crust in your eyes that needs rubbing out before you can properly open them. The plastic computer box on your nightstand was what houses your Personal Assistance Artificial Intelligence. You'd lazily named it PAAI, turning its description into an acronym.
"PAAI, turn off alarm. What's the time?" You turn over in your bed, hesitantly letting bare feet touch the ground. The carpet floor is still chilly from last night.
"Current time is 7:04. Your shift starts at 7:45, with an estimated 20 minute transit time via subway."
You thank him before throwing the sheets off your body. Chill sweeps over you, spreading unpleasant goosebumps over your skin, but it's time to get out of bed.
Pajamas are replaced with your collared shirt and dress pants. The tie is the company's signature blue-green, and your hands twist it into a Windsor knot around your collar almost instinctually, just like they've been doing it for the past seven years. An electronic kettle boils water for some tea and oatmeal.
"PAAI, weather and news please."
"Current temperature is 65 degrees Fahrenheit, with mild winds from the south. Partly cloudy. Wildfires continue in the west, but have slowed down growth by 10%. The election for West Ebott's city mayor continues to escalate between the two candidates, and political analysts believe that tonight's debate will discuss what should be done regarding the newfound monster population..." PAAI's robotic voice rattles off as you move around your apartment, packing up your folders and computer into your backpack and eating your breakfast in between.
"There is a notification I should let you know of before you go," PAAI says, just as you move to open the door. "An email in your work inbox."
"Dictate it to me."
"To Financial Advisor Y. Reader:
Please expect to be called into my office around 3:00 for a private meeting regarding a sensitive topic. While I'd rather not disclose any of said information over an email, be advised that this is not a surprise performance review.
Regards,
A. Ignam."
Odd. You're not sure what else it could possibly be, then.
But there's not much time to ponder. You finish off your instant oatmeal and grab your mug of tea as you head out the door. You've got a train to catch.
The place you work at is a bank renowned for its financial assistance services. In your opinion, plenty of your company's competitors are underhanded assholes, calculating just how polite enough they need to be to keep their customer base and fucking them over for the rest of the way. Hillside Savings actually goes out of their way to inform people on smart financial decisions, far enough to have an open call line for customers needing financial planning advice. Your job was being on the other end of the line.
"Hillside Savings advisement line, Ya'ne speaking. How may I help you today?"
An old lady is your first caller. She's having trouble with her online account profile, and you slowly lead her through the steps needed.
"One of my accounts is missing. I should have a third one there, and I only see two. The third one isn't there, not there at all."
"Alright. I have your account information on my screen now, and I see three accounts. Two savings and one checking."
"Thats right, but I only see the two savings ones. I don't know where the other ones went."
"One moment, please."
You log in to a mock account on your computer and try to replicate what could have caused the problem. It takes about half a minute for you to find it.
"There should be three tabs near the top of the screen, just next to our logo. Do you see them?"
"Yes."
"Is one of them a darker green than the other two?"
"Uh-huh."
"Please tell me what the text in the tab says."
There's shifting noises on the other end of the line. She's probably leaning in closer to the screen.
"It says 'Saving Accounts'. "
"Do one of the tabs next to it say 'All Accounts'?"
"Yeah. It's a light green though, not a dark green."
"Please click on it for me."
Theres a gasp of surprise. "There it is! I can see all three of them now! Thank you so much, dear."
"Of course." You grin a little. "Is there anything else I can assist you with?"
"Nope, that was all I needed. Thanks so much!"
You end the call. Easy peasy. The next one comes not five minutes later though.
"Hillside Savings advisement line, Ya'ne speaking. How may I help you today?"
"Hi there... I need some help managing a food budget." The guy sounds nervous right off the bat.
"Alright. How many people do you need to feed?"
"Four, including myself. I've got three kids, and one of them is a toddler."
Single parent. That can't be a fun time. You do have a document made up for helping people with food problems. Recipes, techniques, shopping methods, couponing, everything you could think of. This is one of the more common problems you get called about.
It takes over half an hour, but you get him sorted out. For now, at least.
"And a crock pot can just sit there and cook it for you?"
"Yes. It can be overnight, it can be while you're away at work and while the kids are away at school, just put the ingredients in and set the timer. Getting a rice cooker will help too, it works kind of the same way."
He gives a sigh of relief. "Okay. Thank you so much for this. I kind of, panicked once I realized I had to take on more hours at work, you know? I usually take an hour after coming back from work to cook."
"I'm glad I was able to find you a workaround for your situation, sir. Would you like me to email you similar advice to the the adress we have on file for you?"
"That would be fantastic. Thank you."
You talk a bit more before closing the call. You make sure to point him to some forums that'd be of help, as well as give him a way to contact you at work. People rarely get back to you when you do this, but the jesture is appreciated, or so you were told during training.
The rest of the day goes by similarly. Several people need help making sense of tax codes. Some college student asks you if she should take a job or focus on her studies. You answer the questions the best you can, and redirect them to resources to help them further.
By the time your lunch break hits, you head straight to your favorite burger spot: Patty Palace. It's not fancy, but it tastes good, isn't that expensive, and isn't one of those big chains that probably pumps additives into everything.
"Hey Ya'ne," says the cashier. "Same thing as usual?"
You nod, and she punches your order into the register. You take quick look around while she does so, and notice that a monster is one of the small handful of patrons sitting at the tables. They've got scaly skin that reminds you of a fish, and long blueish hair that's just past shoulder length. You're pretty sure that there's a biolumenecent thing hanging out of the top of her head, like some of the deep sea fish you've seen on the Discovery Channel.
The cashier calls out your order, and you become aware that you've been staring at the monster the entire time your food has been getting prepared. You take your bagged meal with you and awkwardly leave the restaurant, hoping you weren't too obvious with looking the monster up and down.
Maybe in another life when you were you went to medical school, you'd be able to live out a xenobiologist's wet dream and inspect them further and up close, but alas, your job is behind a desk. It's not like you're a stranger to them though; you've gotten calls from plenty of monsters about trying to figure out the human financial system. One has even discussed about how to go about opening a bakery topside with you.
You eat back at your office. The meeting later on that afternoon stays in your mind as you finish off your fries, and you can't help but be nervous even though you don't have a clear reason to be.
As your lunch break ends and you start taking in calls again, time seems to slip by like water. Before you know it, it's 2:56 and you've just wrapped up one last call. There's an odd feeling of anticipation in your chest. Your gut tells you that even though you don't know the content of the meeting, it might just be impactful enough to be career defining. It's definitely feels that way as you walk to the meeting room.
You open the door and see your boss, Austin, at one end of the table. He's wearing the company colored tie, just like you, but also has the blazer he was given when promoted to manager. And sitting across from him-
Pink and metal. Lots of pink. The humanoid robot leans back in his chair and faces you, eyes dancing up and down your figure. He grins almost devilishly, nodding like he's pleased with something.
"Ya'ne." You turn back to face Austin, trying to straighten your posture. "Please close the door and take a seat. Like my email said, this is quite a sensitive topic."
Only when you sit down at the table do you realize your face has heated up a little.