The Last Day: The Shadow of the Knight | 01
Chapter 1: Just a Regular Day
Silas woke up to the sharp thud of a broom hitting the side of his bed. He shot up, disoriented, barely catching sight of his mother’s frustrated expression before the broom came down again, smacking the floor this time. She was already in motion, sweeping with a mix of purpose and irritation.
“Oh, you finally awake,” she said, the edge in her voice unmistakable. She didn’t stop her cleaning, not even for a second. “Hope you ready to explain yourself, Silas, ’cause you got some nerve.”
“Wha—huh?” Silas rubbed at his eyes, trying to piece together his fractured memories. The last thing he remembered was blinding light, strange visions... and Steve. But now he was back home, facing his mother’s wrath.
“Don’t play dumb,” she snapped, pausing long enough to point the broom in his direction. “Steve—your friend—brought you in here last night, slumped over like a rag doll. Said you had a ‘rough night.’ You know how that made me look?”
“Steve?” Silas croaked. The pieces started to click together. Steve must’ve covered for him, but not in a way that helped his case.
“Yeah, Steve,” she said, her voice dripping with disbelief. “He had to carry you in here. You better believe I had questions, but you? Out cold. So, what was it? Out partyin’? You think you grown enough to come home like that?”
“Mom, it’s not what you think,” Silas tried, but she was already sweeping again, her motions hard and fast.
“I’ll tell you what I think.” She stopped to fix him with a glare that could cut glass. “I think you got work today. And I think you’re gonna haul yourself up, wash that stink off, and get to it. No excuses.”
Silas sighed, the weight of exhaustion settling back over him. “Fine,” he muttered, pushing himself out of bed. His mother didn’t move, just watched him with that mix of frustration and worry she tried so hard to hide.
“You got ten minutes,” she said, turning back to her cleaning. “Don’t make me come back in here.”
He nodded, shuffling to the bathroom as his headache pounded. The water was cold, shocking him fully awake. Whatever happened last night wasn’t over—not by a long shot. But right now, surviving the day was priority number one.
Silas took a quick shower and an attempt to look halfway presentable. His mother stood by the door, arms crossed. “Be home on time,” she said, her voice softening just a bit. “And don’t make this a habit.”
“Got it,” he said, managing a small smile before stepping outside. As he pulled on his worn-out jacket, Silas grabbed his lunch, a hastily wrapped sandwich, and stepped out the door, ready to make his way to the factory. Before he even made it onto the front porch he noticed a piece of paper folded up in his pocket that wasn't there before. It was a note from Steve:
“Just go to work. Act normal. It's just a regular day. I'll explain later.”
Still unsure of the details, and only certain of his immediate duties, he stepped onto the sidewalk and made his way to work. The industrial district was already buzzing with life, the roar of machinery echoing through the streets as he approached the factory gates.
Inside, it was the same routine. Conveyor belts hummed along, workers moved in unison, and supervisors paced up and down the line, making sure everything stayed on track. Silas took his place at his usual station—a tedious control panel monitoring machine output. He settled in, ready for a mind-numbing day of button-pushing and system checks.
Then, something strange happened.
As soon as Silas tapped the first button, the factory floor responded. Not in the usual way—this was different. The conveyor belt adjusted its speed, the robotic arms started working with a precision that even the engineers would have envied, and the machines seemed to hum with an energy that Silas had never felt before.
“What the…?” Silas muttered under his breath, watching in confusion as the machinery moved like it had a mind of its own.
He glanced around. No one seemed to notice. The workers were too busy with their own tasks to pay attention to the sudden efficiency that had overtaken his station. Silas tried to shake it off, chalking it up to a random fluke.
But the day only got weirder.
Every button he pressed, every command he gave—intentionally or otherwise—was met with perfect execution by the factory’s machinery. Conveyor belts shifted, production lines sped up, and even minor maintenance issues seemed to solve themselves.
It didn’t take long for the workers around him to notice.
“Yo, Silas! What’s your secret, man? You’re running this place like clockwork!” one of the workers called out with a grin.
“Yeah, you got some new tech in that panel or something?” another joked.
Silas forced a smile, feeling a growing sense of unease. He didn’t know what was happening, but it felt too perfect. The machines weren’t just working faster—they were responding to his thoughts. If he wanted a panel adjusted, it shifted. If he needed more inventory moved, the system did it before he even hit a button.
The entire section of the factory was running at a speed no one had ever seen. Supervisors were wandering by, nodding approvingly, while his coworkers gave him thumbs up.
In the distance, he could hear the hum of machinery still running, still adjusting. He wondered how long he could keep this up without drawing too much attention. Maybe Steve’s advice to act normal wasn’t so easy after all.
Elsewhere, across town…
The soft click of shoes echoed in the dimly lit corridor. Steve Gallagher, dressed in a janitor’s uniform, pushed his cart down the hallway of Kisonic Enterprises’ towering office building. His eyes, sharp as ever, scanned the area under the brim of his cap. This wasn’t his first infiltration job, but it was easily the most important one he’d handled in a while.
The executives here—particularly the one he was after—were tangled up in enough corruption to choke the life out of the city. Mutant trafficking, illegal tech deals, and off-the-books experiments. Steve had seen it all before, but now, he was on the verge of gathering the last piece of evidence he needed to blow this wide open.
He stopped by a trash can near the executive offices, casually pulling out a set of cleaning supplies. To anyone else, he was just a janitor, going about his business, wiping down countertops and emptying bins. But to Steve, every step brought him closer to the vault of information stored on the upper floors.
As he wiped down a desk, he slid a small listening device into the corner of the room. His hands moved with purpose, his expression calm, but inside his mind was a storm of thoughts.
Can’t mess this up. One slip, and they’ll know.
He wasn’t Iron Knight here—he was Steve, undercover, one man against a web of lies and greed. He could feel the weight of the task pressing down on him, but he thrived in these moments. Years of experience had taught him patience, to move slow, blend in, and wait for the right moment to strike.
With a final glance over his shoulder, Steve moved on to the next room, his heart beating a little faster.
Soon. Very soon.
Back at the factory, Silas was just trying to survive the day. The machines had now fully adapted to him, whirring and shifting like they were dancing to his tune. Supervisors were starting to ask questions, but Silas, still in the dark about his technopathic abilities, could only offer confused shrugs.
As he sat down at the control panel, the thought crossed his mind again: How am I supposed to act normal when everything is acting so… weird?
Little did he know, this was only the beginning.