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.
"Captain, the pressure is holding," Lyra’s voice echoed in his head. Day Dreams
In his mind, he wasn't a junior data analyst with a damp umbrella and a lukewarm latte. He was Captain Elias Thorne, standing on the deck of the Solaris , a ship that sailed not on water, but on the shimmering rings of Saturn. The air there didn't smell of wet wool and diesel; it smelled of ozone and stardust. Elias smiled to himself, a small, private expression