The speakers buzz as the doors slide shut and the train smoothly departs the transit station. Crossroad City was the land of never ending winter, making daylight hours incredibly short. But the scanty number of passengers onboard tells me that we are well past peak hour. Weaving my way past the other travelers, I take a seat near one of the train's windows and pull out my phone to check the time.

One AM. My internal clock is still messed up from staying in the Rift for a week. There's almost a twelve hour difference between both sides of that portal. I stifle a yawn as the train cruises along the elevated track, piercing through the night. Taking a nap would be nice, but I'm always paranoid about missing my stop. As I'm debating the merits of shutting my eyes for awhile, a mechanical whine fills the compartment as reinforced lead lined shutters seal the windows tight.

"ATTENTION ALL PASSENGERS," the speaker drones, "WE ARE ENTERING AN IRRADIATED ZONE. DO NOT ATTEMPT TO EXIT THE COMPARTMENT."

Suppressing another yawn, I flick through the newsfeed being displayed on my phone. I ignore all the sports stuff with a pang of regret. When I first arrived at Crossroad City, I quickly became a big fan of Xtreme Fistball. Had a favorite team and even bought their merchandise. Then a few years later a scandal broke where it turned out all the Fistball teams were controlled by a criminal syndicate that rigged the matches. The whole league was as genuine as pro wrestling. The game was cleaned up after that, supposedly. But its like knowing a magician's trick. It destroys the magic itself.

I could never get back into the sport after that.

"WE ARE CLEAR OF THE IRRADIATED ZONE." the speaker barks again as the mechanized shutters roll up, "HAVE A PLEASANT RIDE WITH US."

Idly staring out of the window at irradiated zone, I once again marvel at how incredibly leafy and filled with vegetation it is. Seriously, that patch of land looks healthier than most places I've been. Most people even. So whatever radiation polluting that area can't be dangerous to life. Though the rumor floating about Phoenix Guild is that stepping into the zone causes your sperm to die and your balls to shrivel away. Sounds like exaggerated bullshit, but the train and buses that ply this route had been shielded for a reason. And I'm not really enthusiastic about putting my balls on the line to check out some random rumor.

Settling back into my seat, I start going through the headlines on the newsfeed.

Alternate Dimensions - The True Legacy of Starfall?

... scientists speculate that each Rift is an alternate dimension, a lower realm that has been connected to our world by the Starfall fragments ...

"Stupid." I comment while reading, "If the rifts were lower realms compared to ours, why are we in so much danger whenever we enter one of them?"

... all starting from the Starfall event, when an asteroid broke apart in the planet's atmosphere with the resulting fragments bombarding the surface ... each fragment being the "root" of a Rift ...

"Wouldn't that just mean the asteroid was containing the other realms in the first place?" I shake my head in disagreement. None of my experiences point to the Rifts being alternate or lower dimensions, however you want to call them. But the article is right about the asteroid fragments though. The Guilds scout out potential rift locations by scanning for the unique energy signatures the fragments emit. And if there are lower realms, then a higher realm must also exist, right? And this world we live in? Its way too garbage to be considered a higher realm.

Dismissing the article, I move on to the next headline.

Man sexually abused by cat! Shocking photos of bite marks! Animal lust unleashed!

I stifle a laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of the headline. Some guy had the shit scratched and bitten out of him by his cat, who then ran away. Good job with the clickbait title though. Full marks.

The train takes a hard turn as the track wends its way around the perimeter of the city. That means my stop is coming up soon. Looking out of the window again, I take in the blocks of low rise buildings clustered around an automated port. Another ship must have been unloaded, no other reason for the AI driven cranes to be piling up the containers like skyscrapers. Most of the neighborhood is plunged into darkness, everyone already at home and ready for bed at this ungodly hour. A few cars drive through the streets, like blood moving through an artery.

Shoreside. Home sweet home.

The train glides into the station and I disembark. I nod in acknowledgement at one of the maintenance workers getting ready to close the place up for the night and walk down the deactivated escalator to street level. No cabs or buses available at this hour, but that's fine. My apartment is like a ten minute walk away from the station. Tasting the salty tang of the sea air, I set a brisk pace.

Look at this neighborhood. How many people live here? Thousands? Tens of thousands? And then there's the rest of the city itself. In this ocean of people, you would think there wouldn't be a lack of human contact. Yet I don't know any of my neighbors. I barely know any of my colleagues. There's a reason why I call my supervisor the Supervisor. Its because I can't remember his name. We interact, but none of it is really meaningful at a personal level. The more people there are around us, the more lonely we feel.

Though I'm not sure whether this is an indictment on the human condition or on my own unspectacular career.

Reaching a modestly sized double story building built by the side of the beach, I walk toward one of the ground floor units with the door keys jangling in my hand. Yes, my place has a sea view. No, its still shit. There isn't a place to park your car, because anyone staying here isn't expected to be able to afford a car in the first place. The apartments are small but the sea view is awesome, as long as you like looking at the docks or the refueling berths. Unlocking my door, I note that the neighbors upstairs are quarreling again.

"Just get a divorce." I snort. Day in day out, those two keep doing the same thing. The very definition of insanity.

Throwing my jacket onto the sofa, I don't bother with turning on the lights. Instead I reach down and begin to pry open the floorboards near the TV. Feeling about inside the cavity, I grasp and pull out the case hidden inside.

"Its all here." I mutter, looking at the bag of tools and Love's original gun frame, its exotic metal glinting under the moonlight. But there's a new addition to the contents of the case. Several bundles of cash, the balance from selling the matriarch's ruby after I had set myself up in Crossroad City.

The ruby was worth more than you expected.

"Sure looks that way." I bite my lip, playing with one of the bundles.

Like the fraudulent memory showed me, I came to Crossroad City to lie low and make a fortune. Unfortunately, Robert has showed up at Phoenix Guild. Meaning lying low is a bust, I would cross paths with Robert sooner or later. The fortune may be out of reach, but I'm comfortably well off, despite appearances. I can afford to quickly resign from the Guild and disappear, decamping to another city. I play with my beard, tugging at it, torn at whether I should take such a drastic step.

Then my phone rings. The screen shows an unfamiliar number.

"Who is this?" I rasp, accepting the call.

"Uh, Adam?" the voice on the line hesitates, "Its James. From the Guild? Remember?"

"Oh." I grunt.

"Is this a bad time?" James hazards a guess.

"Just wondering how you got my number." I remark mildly.

"From the Employee Directory." James explains, "I memorized your employee number when I picked up your new uniform for you."

"Right. Thanks for that." I sigh, accepting the explanation, "What's up?"

"Mark asked me to call you." James continues.

"Who?" I ask, feeling confused again.

"Mark. Your supervisor." James replies, "Is this really a good time for you, Adam? You sound rather distracted."

"Right. The Supervisor." I crack my neck, savoring the pop, "Sorry, I've got plenty on my mind at the moment."

"There's a get together tomorrow evening." James picks up the thread again, "Something to raise morale. Everyone who went into the Rift is invited. You know Boggs?"

"The bar near the Guild HQ?" I confirm, "Sure, everyone knows it. Drank there a few times too."

"The get together will be held there." James concludes, "So see you then?"

"Sure, see you." I affirm and hang up.

I pack up the case and secret it back in the hiding place. That done, I pour myself a glass of water and take a sip, watching the lights of the docks twinkle like stars.

Loneliness can be hard to bear. But the problems people bring with them?

That's a whole different world of hurt.