The Moon Gate Project

Chapter 1

Jordan

  The night was beginning to fall, painting the sky with a darkish tone, adorned with small white stars, above the city and the pine grove surrounding the Academy, a centuries-old school, or rather, a factory whose sole purpose was to shape the leaders of tomorrow. In this factory, with concrete walls covered in moss, at the back of a cold and gray classroom, was Jordan, who, while listening to his teacher dictate the lesson in a weary and quavering voice, gazed at the window covered in a thin layer of frost. His chin rested in the palm of his left hand as he twirled his pen in his right hand. Finally, it slipped from his hand and hit the floor with a small "click," silencing his teacher. She turned around, fixed him with her glassy and piercing eyes, pushed up her small crooked nose with her thin glasses, and approached him, her crimson pink heels clacking on the tiled floor. With a trembling hand, she struck him on the head with a book and squeaked:

"Mr. Maverick, may I know what makes the window more interesting than my lesson?" she asked, irritated, as the young man looked at her with boredom, straightening up in his chair and sighing. You think you're smarter than your classmates to the extent that you can skip listening to the lesson, so you will write an essay on the War of Light, which you will hand in at our next class."

  Jordan watched her walk away, her heels clicking louder, pretending to ignore the classmates' furious glances as they turned around now that the show was over. He bent down to pick up his pen as the teacher resumed the lesson. He pretended to take notes until the bell finally rang, setting him free. He was the first to leave the classroom and ran towards the stairs, taking them four at a time. The young man was so eager to escape this hell and go hang out on the street that he collided violently with a girl.

"Sorry," muttered Jordan as he bent down to pick up the girl's books. 

  In front of him, a cascade of red hair tumbled to the ground as she reached for her belongings. When she straightened up, he saw a girl who was neither very beautiful nor particularly ugly, with a pale face like milk and a cold, piercing gaze that glared at him furiously. But what shocked him the most was her body in general. It flowed like golden water in certain places, occasionally leaving holes in her face or causing the tips of her long, slender fingers to disappear, only to reappear again.

"Is that it, are you done staring at me?!" the teenager snapped, pulling her hair over her face to cover a hole that had formed on her cheek.

"I... I'm sorry," Jordan stammered.

"Yeah, whatever!" the young redhead replied, walking away quickly.

  The young man continued on his way toward the exit, surprised by what he had just seen. He passed through the double doors of the Academy and crossed the gardens and clearing that bordered this brain factory, until he reached the golden gate, where a herd of students crowded together, eager to go to their evening classes or to return home and study. He elbowed his way through the suffocating crowd and finally reached the opposite sidewalk, where he turned at the corner of a pastry shop, from which wafted tempting scents of warm cream-filled brioches and cakes covered in fruits and sugar. He walked for about ten minutes, passing by offices, shops, crowded restaurants, and metro exits, before entering an arcade hall with a facade covered in neon signs and colorful advertisements.

  The arcade hall spanned six floors, one of which was dedicated to a café. Inside, young people buzzed around arcade machines and various simulators, while roller-skating waitresses glided between the machines, lighter than air, serving icy beverages and burgers dripping with sauces and cheese. It was here, at Midnight Heaven, that young partygoers like Jordan gathered, carefree souls who preferred to live their lives to the fullest instead of working like others. This arcade hall didn't hide its nature, in fact, it proudly boasted its reputation as a haven for misfits, the only place in town where alcohol flowed freely and drugs captivated the depraved youth who dreamt of a life without constraints, where everything was laughter and fun.

  Jordan headed towards the elevator and went up to the sixth floor accompanied by a guy who was openly flirting with a waitress. He patiently waited for the glass elevator to ascend, observing the street below and the river that was receding as the cabin rose. It smoothly came to a stop, accompanied by a little melody indicating the sixth and final floor.

  On the right side, there was a bar-restaurant where bartenders and cooks bustled, stirring around the aromas of sizzling bacon and refreshing sodas. On the other side, there were football tables and driving simulators, while just above, on a small mezzanine, young people shouted, cheered, and applauded two players battling in a fighting game. Behind and facing Jordan, glass windows stretched out, overlooking the roofs of neighboring buildings.

  He approached one of the booths in the dining area and sat next to a couple, smiling. He put his arm around his friend, who turned around and exclaimed, "Jordan, buddy, you're finally here! Hey Jenny, bring us three beers and some nachos, please," he added, addressing a passing waitress. "Dude, let me introduce you to Cammy, my new girlfriend."

  The named Cammy waved her hand and smiled, a gesture he immediately returned.

"But tell me, Parker, isn't this the third one this month?"

  The waitress approached the table and placed three beer cans and a plate of nachos dripping with cheese and guacamole on it. Parker leaned forward and grabbed his can with a smirk. He took a sip and sank back into the booth, one hand around his girlfriend's waist. 

"Loana broke up with me, and we used to come here often, so we got together. Why are you jealous? "

" Absolutely not."

   Parker and Cammy were the perfect examples of Midnight Heaven's clientele: young partygoers with unstable relationships and frequent one-night stands. 

   The three young people drank and ate together while discussing for two hours before parting ways around 8:30 PM. Parker and Cammy walked away, laughing, and entered the glass elevator arm-in-arm, where they disappeared. As for Jordan, he took another sip of his beer while gazing out of the glass windows. He silently observed the parliament, bathed in the whitish glow of the full moon. He wondered if his father was still there or if he was already waiting for him at home, seething with anger and a glass of whiskey in hand. He pushed these thoughts out of his mind, approached the bar, and sat on one of the stools with a sigh. Glancing at his watch, he placed money on the counter and hurriedly left Midnight Heaven. Jordan started running on the sidewalk, eager to get home without being caught by his father. Life was far from easy for the son of a highly respected minister, whose image must not be tarnished by a son like him.

  It was already late, the streets were empty, covered with a thin layer of cold mist, rising from the ground with every step Jordan took, running his hand through his dark hair as he gasped for breath. The buildings, shops, and offices were quickly replaced by residential areas and large houses, competing with their richly decorated facades and lush, well-maintained gardens. Passersby hurried into their homes and luxurious residences, glancing behind them every few meters. As Jordan passed by an illuminated house, sparkling with a thousand lights, an older man grumbled while trying to open his door.

"These scoundrels are leaving earlier and earlier these days," he grumbled as he returned home.

  His door slammed shut, interrupting the young man's thoughts. He looked at the house in silence and resumed his journey. The fog was growing thicker. He continued on his way towards the grandest mansions of the long avenue.

  The house was immense and richly decorated with statues and engravings representing the Sun King and his glory. Two golden soldiers faced each other, framing a white wooden door, whose lion-shaped handles and knockers were adorned with sparkling rubies and diamonds. The residence screamed the wealth of its owner, which was no longer in need of proof, as all the other residents knew Monsieur le Ministre and the sumptuous evenings organized within his mini-palace. But for Jordan, the house primarily evoked disgust.

  As he placed his hand on the doorknob, he felt like he was being observed. When he turned around, the young man saw a small hooded figure on the marble sidewalk, with a pair of white eyes staring at him with a certain interest. Another figure, a taller one, came back and grabbed the small figure, whispering frightened words, before quickly walking away. Jordan watched them leave without much interest and sighed as he entered the house.