Dimensional Descent

Leonel barreled down a set of spiraling stairs. With a leap, he cleared the railing, foregoing the last of the steps to land in a living room. Jumping over a couch, he rounded a corner into the kitchen to snatch a bottle of foul green liquid.

"Thanks for the daily dose of cow shit, dad. Really appreciate it."

A middle-aged man looked up from his tablet, pushing his glasses up with a couple fingers. He was lounging behind the large glass doors that opened from the living room into the backyard when his son's usual defamatory statements entered his ears.

"In another rush toward failure?"

"I'll succeed this time!"

Instead of launching himself out the front door, Leonel actually made his way back up the set of spiraled stairs.

"That's what you said the last over hundred times."

Leonel didn't wait for his father's next sarcastic statement. He pushed opened the attic doors and swung himself out of the three-story high triangular windows. His actions looked no different from an attempt at suicide, but his hand just barely caught the ledge, swinging himself upward to latch onto a weakening water drainage pipe.

Like a spry monkey, the plastic lid connector of his bottle hanging from his teeth, he climbed to the roof, landing on the angled tiles with a practiced ease.

[Subject: Leonel Morales]

[Infraction Code 118.67.2 - Unauthorized scaling of a residential building. Under the Parkour and Freerunning Act of 2034, this is classified as a Type 1 Misdemeanor]

[It is advised that subject Leonel Morales immediately cease illegal activity to avoid charges]

Leonel ignored the beeping female voice emitting from his wrist, his eyes having locked onto his next target.

The suburb Leonel and his father lived in was decently well off and could be considered a part of the upper middle class. However, the location of their home could only be described as odd. Or, rather, the entire suburb community was out of expectations.

The community existed on a large flying platform that orbited a main city below like the Moon did the Earth. These so-called Floating Paradises acted as a solution to the housing crisis of 2066, effectively fixing the problem by creating more surface area for housing.

Nowadays, only the obscenely wealthy could live on the surface. Leonel's destination happened to be this lofty surface world. Though, while most who lived on these Floating Paradises could only catch a glimpse from time to time, Leonel traveled down almost everyday.

'… 17 seconds.'

Leonel crouched on his home's roof. His and his father's home happened to be at the very edge of the Floating Paradise. Of course, there were several safety measures taken. But, that wouldn't stop Leonel.

Despite his vantage point, he couldn't see the backyard his father had been sitting in. In fact, his home looked completely empty from the outside due to a privacy setting.

He swung his head back, taking a big swing of his dad's green concoction. In that moment, not only did his tongue seemingly light on fire, but even his lungs burned. One would think he was breathing in a raging fire's smoke instead of drinking a smoothie.

outdid yourself this time, old

make it very far. He'd fall three stories and come out with a broken leg if

sudden gust of wind crashed into his body. If it wasn't for its sturdy straps, the backpack to

filled Leonel's ears as he was

legs spread out, a refreshing smile playing his features as though he didn't realize that he

without a care in the world. His clothes whipped against

surface below, his body tucked and rolled, bursting through a layer of white clouds that spritzed a refreshing dew across his face. His last

to realize that this wasn't in fact the ground at all, but

Leonel

the surface. Under the Sky Island Act of 2071,

has been targeted for capture. It is advised that subject remain where they are to avoid

as a minor. Guardian Velasco Morales has been

Communication failure. Attempting

linked to a retiree of such prestige was directly handled by the Bureau of Intelligence and Protection, or BIP for

to be vetted by BIP. With his father's name at

in a corner. He leapt from the building's side, swinging his bike's seat between his legs just as he firmly landed on a cylindrical glass structure

almost every building on the surface was interconnected in some way. The skies were filled with glass tunnels, towering structures were sometimes no more than a meter or two apart, and personal vehicles were incredibly rare even for the rich

the

out as though there wasn't a several hundred meter drop

I'll start taking the tube the moment you agree to pay those ridiculous fees

"My name isn't Lenny!"

he arrived and also had no idea where his voice was being projected from either, but he could only

than many thought possible. Eventually, the tall skyscrapers began to shorten and Leonel had no choice but to change his tactics lest he get caught by

or so meters as a time, hopping his bike from glass tunnel to balcony to light post before eventually landing

of grey slacks, a recently pressed white shirt,

quickly stripped himself of his sports wear. After leaning a mirror the size of a piece of paper again a large garbage disposal bin, he slicked his hair back with

"Refresh."

UV light swept over Leonel's body. In a flash, his accumulating body odor was killed off, replaced by a

his shirt, and slid on his blue blazer. After putting on his bag, he

propped up mirror. It wasn't because he was overly satisfied with his own appearance, though he could be considered to

wind with its dirty blond almost amber color, and

only tall and toned, but his frame was both lean and well-built. Despite this, he had a kind and inviting disposition. His presence

practicing his smile, they'd think he was crazy. He was more than charming enough, was there a need to

time, he hopped on his bike. But, his pace was much slower this time, not wanting to ruin his effort

nothing like the congested communities he had passed through before. It

from the winter months, and winding paths that led to beautiful architectural

prestigious place only for the elites of the younger