Tommorow, Stuck On Repeat

NARRATOR

For the next 20 days, Shirley trained nonstop with the cleavers. He spent hours figuring out their weight, testing their range, and learning how to control each swing with precision. Most of his time went into figuring out how to channel his Presence into the blades effectively. It wasn't easy—he cut himself more times than he cared to admit. Still, every mistake taught him something new, and he didn't let the setbacks slow him down.

Tucker wasn't slacking off either. While Shirley focused on the cleavers, Tucker doubled down on building his strength. He pushed his body to its limits, working to make himself faster, tougher, and stronger. Every punch, every movement became sharper as he worked on controlling his Presence.

By the end of 38 days, both boys had made huge progress. They had mastered Presence Eyes and pushed their abilities to new heights. They weren't the same as when they'd started.

1:27 PM

The city buzzed with its usual hum of activity, but for Shirley and Tucker, it was just another steady afternoon. With no particular plans, they wandered aimlessly down the crowded streets, hoping something interesting might happen.

"Man, today's so boring," Tucker muttered, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his baggy denim jeans. His white shirt hung loosely, swaying slightly with each step.

Shirley shrugged, adjusting the zipper of his blue-and-black striped jacket. "Let's just grab some food," he suggested, his blue shorts catching the sunlight.

Tucker nodded in agreement, and the pair made their way toward the nearest pizza place. As they walked, they couldn't help but notice the same thing they always did: nearly everyone around them was glued to their phones. It was a reoccurring observation, one they didn't particularly care about but still found strangely noteworthy.

The streets felt normal—until it didn't.

Both boys froze mid-step as an overwhelming Presence washed over them, prickling the air with an intensity that sent shivers down their spines. The force was palpable, familiar, and undeniably strong.

"Do you feel that?" Tucker asked, his head swiveling as he scanned the bustling crowd.

"Yeah," Shirley replied, his voice low, his eyes darting among the sea of people. The Presence wasn't just powerful—it was distinct, like a faint echo of something they couldn't quite place.

Other pedestrians moved about as if nothing had happened, though a few seemed to falter briefly, their steps hesitant. Most, however, brushed off the unease and returned their attention to their phones.

Then it happened.

A man in a long coat brushed past Shirley, the collision almost casual. But the moment of contact hit like a spark, jolting both boys. Shirley stopped in his tracks, turning sharply to face the man.

"It's him," Tucker said, his voice barely above a whisper.

They didn't need to say more. The intense, familiar Presence was radiating from the man in the coat.

The figure didn't stop or even glance back, continuing down the street as if nothing had happened. But to Shirley and Tucker, the moment felt far from ordinary.

"Who is he?" Shirley muttered, narrowing his eyes as they instinctively began to follow the man.

Tucker clenched his fists, the bored look from earlier replaced by focused determination. "Let's find out."

They trailed him at a careful distance, weaving through the crowd to avoid drawing attention. The man's presence was magnetic, pulling them forward despite the growing unease in their chests.

As they followed, the atmosphere around them seemed to shift. The crowd, so lively and bustling just moments ago, began to thin out. The chatter of pedestrians grew quieter, muffled, as though someone had turned down the volume on the city itself.

"He's leading us somewhere," Shirley said, his voice barely audible over the strange silence.

"Or we're walking right into something," Tucker replied, his eyes fixed on the man's back.

The man turned a corner, disappearing into an alleyway.

The boys exchanged a glance, hesitating only for a moment before rounding the corner themselves.

The alley was empty.

"What the—" Shirley began, but Tucker held up a hand, silencing him.

The Presence was still there, stronger now, pressing against them from all directions. It was as if the man was still standing right in front of them, even though the alley was completely deserted.

"This doesn't feel right," Tucker said, his voice low.

Shirley nodded, his eyes scanning the narrow passageway for any sign of movement. "He's still here. I can feel it."

And then, without warning, a deep, resonant voice echoed through the alley.

"You've grown since I last saw you."

Shirley and Tucker froze, their eyes darting around the empty space. The voice seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once, wrapping around them like a cold wind.

"Who are you?" Shirley demanded, his voice steady despite the racing of his heart.

There was no reply, only a faint chuckle that sent chills down their spines.

Then, the Presence vanished.

Just like that, the air lightened, and the oppressive weight pressing on their chests lifted. The city's noise returned, the distant hum of traffic and chatter filtering back into their ears.

The alley was empty once again, as though nothing had happened.

Tucker exhaled, running a hand through his white hair. "What the hell was that?"

"I don't know," Shirley said, his fists still clenched at his sides. "But whoever he is, he's dangerous."

"And familiar," Tucker added, his voice low.

Out of nowhere, a cloaked figure descended from above, landing directly in front of them with a light yet deliberate impact. The figure's posture was relaxed, but the air around her seemed charged with intent.

"So, you're the disciple of that fool, Michael…" they said, their voice low and steady, with a hint of disdain.

They reached up and pulled back the hood of her cloak, revealing a young girl who looked about sixteen. Her brunette hair fell neatly around her shoulders, and her striking blue eyes gleamed with confidence. Her bright pink lips stood out, likely accentuated with lipstick, adding a surprising boldness to her otherwise casual demeanor.

Shirley immediately tensed, dropping into a fighting stance and subtly reaching for his cleavers, tucked away in his pockets. Tucker, however, just scratched the back of his head, his expression a mix of confusion and curiosity.

"Who are you?" Tucker asked bluntly, his brow furrowed. "You're definitely not the same person who bumped into Shirley earlier. Your Presence is… different." He paused, studying her intently. "Actually, you don't give off any Presence at all. You feel… normal."

The girl tilted her head slightly, a smirk playing on her lips. "That's because I don't give off a Presence—not in the way you're used to. I am only able to wield Hope Presence. It's subtle, refined. And yes," she added, her eyes narrowing slightly, "I can use the Presence Eyes."

She crossed her arms and continued, her tone calm yet pointed. "The overwhelming Presence you felt earlier? That was my boss. The man in the cloak." She stopped, as if debating whether to say more. Then, after a beat, she added, "And… who's Shirley?"

Tucker casually pointed at Shirley. "That'd be him."

The girl stared at Shirley for a moment, then suddenly burst into uncontrollable laughter, doubling over as she clutched her sides. Her laugh was sharp and almost feline, cutting through the tense air.

"HA! HAHAHAHAHA! Who names their boy Shirley?!" she howled, her voice ringing out.

Shirley's grip on his cleavers tightened, his jaw clenching as he glared at her. "Shut up…" he said while gritting his teeth.

The girl wiped a tear from the corner of her eye, her laughter subsiding into a chuckle. "Relax, Shirley. I'm just messing with you." She straightened up, her smirk returning as she met his intense gaze. "Though seriously, you might want to have a word with your parents about that name."

Tucker, still scratching his head, leaned toward Shirley and whispered, "She's got a point."

Shirley shot him a glare, and Tucker immediately straightened up, pretending to zip his lips.

The girl's smirk faded slightly as her tone shifted, growing more serious. "Anyway, I didn't come here to fight. Not yet, at least. Consider this a… friendly introduction."

"I'll be heading to Michael's place in two days for a mission."

Her blue eyes sparkled mischievously as she stepped back, slipping her hood back over her head. "You've got a long way to go, disciples of Michael. Let's see if you can keep up."

Before they could respond, she leaped into the air, vanishing just as suddenly as she had appeared.

Shirley and Tucker stood in silence for a moment, the weight of the encounter settling over them.

"Well," Tucker finally said, breaking the silence, "that was… something."

Shirley sighed, releasing his grip on his cleavers. "Let's just get pizza."