The rhythmic clack-clack of the train was a metronome for Elias’s thoughts. Outside, the gray suburbs of London blurred into a watercolor wash, but Elias wasn't seeing the rain-streaked glass. He was somewhere else entirely.
"Next stop, Blackfriars," the intercom crackled, momentarily thinning the veil of his fantasy. Day Dreams
Elias smiled to himself, a small, private expression that often made strangers on the train glance away. He wasn't just killing time; he was stimulating his creativity . Recently, he’d started writing these visions down in a notes app, turning his "idle" thoughts into a sprawling fantasy epic. The rhythmic clack-clack of the train was a
"Captain, the pressure is holding," Lyra’s voice echoed in his head. Recently, he’d started writing these visions down in
Elias blinked, his fingers twitching as if still gripping the Solaris’s chrome helm. Daydreaming was his sanctuary, a way to escape difficult situations or the mundane repetition of his 9-to-5 life. Some might call it maladaptive daydreaming if it stole too many hours, but for Elias, it was a necessary bridge between who he was and who he wished to be —a version of himself that was brave, adventurous, and untethered.
He closed his eyes again. The Solaris was approaching the Great Blue Vortex. His crew—characters he’d built with intricate lore over years of commutes—waited for his command. There was Lyra, the navigator with bioluminescent tattoos, and Kael, the engineer who could fix a warp drive with a paperclip. They were more real to him than his coworkers.