Fall Behind

On Friday morning, after Charlie finished his breakfast, he stood up from the table, stacking the plates neatly in his hands. He headed over to the sink, washing the dishes with a quick, practiced efficiency. As he scrubbed, he spoke casually, "There's still a class scheduled this afternoon. Should I take the day off, Friday?"

"Yes, sir," the soft, feminine voice of his AI assistant replied from the speakers. "I don't think it's something you need to worry about right now."

Charlie dried his hands and wiped his mouth before turning back toward his computer desk. The device was sleek and state-of-the-art, a new investment he recently made. He pressed the power button, and the machine hummed to life, its fans whirring softly.

"Well, I've finished the homework for you," Friday added, her voice tinged with a hint of pride. "You can submit it once you've reviewed it, but I believe it's flawless."

"I already skimmed through it," Charlie replied as he cracked his knuckles, settling into his chair. "No errors. Thanks, Friday. You're saving me from a miserable GPA this semester."

"Just a small task, sir," Friday responded cheerfully. "Also, your change of clothes has dried. Would you like me to put them in the closet?"

"Ah…" Charlie leaned back, sighing lazily. "Just do whatever you think is best."

In the past, this kind of mundane task—like dealing with laundry—would have been yet another thing Charlie would put off. With his schedule packed with classes, assignments, and his almost obsessive gaming sessions, he often neglected chores like washing and folding clothes. It wasn't uncommon for him to leave his laundry in the washing machine for days, only remembering when a fresh pile of dirty clothes had already formed in the basket. But now, with Friday around, those small inconveniences disappeared. His AI companion took care of everything seamlessly, running the house in the background like clockwork, freeing Charlie to focus on what he deemed more important—his games.

It was one of the great advantages of having an AI. Unlike humans, Friday never forgot anything. Every task was logged, prioritized, and completed with absolute precision, from laundry to submitting homework on time. Her efficiency was unparalleled.

Friday also kept a detailed schedule for Charlie, though he had adopted a more laissez-faire approach to life. His daily routine revolved around gaming, eating, and sleeping, with schoolwork tossed in only when necessary.

As the computer booted up, Charlie's screen blinked with life. The familiar logo of his favorite game flashed before his eyes, and moments later, he was back in the hero selection interface.

"By the way, The Ninth Special Service Division is mobilizing," Friday informed him, her tone becoming more serious. "Their advance team is expected to depart from the mothership within the hour. If they determine the structure is stable before sunset, they'll proceed to enter the ruins."

"Perfect. Then we'll need to prepare in the meantime."

Charlie's cursor hovered over Batman. After selecting his hero, he watched as the game screen transitioned. Batman stood on the edge of a towering building, his cape billowing in the wind. Charlie immediately summoned the Batplane, watching as it swooped in with precision. With a single shot from the grappling gun, Batman soared into the cockpit.

"The coordinates for the ruins have been marked," Friday said, tilting her virtual head as if considering the next move. "Should we head directly there and wait?"

"No, we don't have enough information about the layout of the ruins," Charlie replied, his eyes narrowing in thought. "It's not like our usual operations where we can access security cameras or study blueprints."

Navigating through unfamiliar territory, especially something as potentially dangerous as ancient ruins, was a different beast altogether. Though Batman was a master of stealth, sneaking through the ruins without any prior knowledge of its layout was too risky.

"I've got a better plan," Charlie said, a grin slowly spreading across his face. He had just unlocked a new piece of equipment in the game, something that had appeared after he had drawn Batman from the B-level pool. "I'm going to try out some new gear."

The screen shifted as the fighter jet's sleek, black form roared into view. Blue tail flames ignited from its rear, launching it into the dark, starlit sky. The night stretched on endlessly, a perfect setting for what Charlie had in mind.

"And after that, we need to make a stop on the mothership," Charlie continued. "Bring Gwen back and have the Winter Soldier prepare for his shift."

The game's perspective switched to the cockpit, the sound of the jet's engines rumbling in the background.

"Are you taking Miss Gwen on the mission?" Friday asked.

"Yeah, and Spider-Man too," Charlie said. "We may need backup for this operation."

…

Onboard the mothership, Snake's eyes fluttered open, blinking against the harsh, sterile lighting of the room. Confusion fogged his thoughts as he reached out instinctively to shut off the alarm clock—only to find that there wasn't one. In fact, he wasn't even in his bed. The cold, hard floor beneath him was a rude awakening, the chill seeping through his body.

As his vision cleared, Snake realized where he was—the bathroom of the aircraft carrier. His mind scrambled to piece together how he had ended up here, but nothing came to mind. The last thing he remembered was prepping for the mission, but now, he was lying on the cold bathroom floor like a drunkard.

The incessant beeping that had pulled him from unconsciousness came from the communication device on his wrist. He fumbled for it, his hands still sluggish from sleep.

"It's… it's me," he muttered into the wrist communicator.

"Where the hell are you?" came the gruff voice of his squad leader. "The team is gathering, and we're heading out soon. What are you doing?"

Snake's mind raced, the fog of sleep still clouding his judgment. "Sorry... I—"

"Just get here," the squad leader snapped, cutting the call abruptly.

Snake rubbed his temples, frustration and embarrassment mingling. How had he let this happen? Today of all days, when the team was preparing to investigate the underground ruins for vital evidence. Yet here he was, waking up on a bathroom floor like an idiot.

He splashed cold water onto his face, trying to shake the lingering grogginess. As he raised his head to glance into the mirror, the sight that greeted him made his heart skip a beat. Staring back at him was a shadowy figure, his soaked bangs hanging low over his face, water dripping down his pale skin. The reflection looked eerie, almost sinister.

But it was only him.

Snake sighed in relief, shaking his head. He was just tired—too tired.

He rushed out, intent on making it to the mission briefing before he became the laughingstock of the entire squad.

...

Meanwhile, back at Grove Group headquarters, Galadin Grove sat in his office, reviewing the latest reports. His maid, a tall, elegant woman dressed in a pristine lace uniform, approached with a tablet in hand.

"Sir, there's an update from the Ninth Special Service Division," she said, her voice soft and respectful. "The advance team has mobilized. They've set up a temporary camp near the ruins and completed the initial structural assessment."

She handed him the tablet, showing a sketch of the ruin site. "The original entrance was destroyed in an explosion. They plan to use a plasma drill to create a new entry point."

Galadin rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "And they believe this will be stable?"

"Yes, sir. The drill will create less disturbance than explosives. They're confident it won't affect the ruins' structural integrity."

Galadin glanced out of the window, contemplating. "Very well. Have our men move into position. We can't afford to fall behind."

"Yes, sir." The maid bowed and stepped aside.

As the sun began to dip toward the horizon, preparations for the mission moved into full swing.

---

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