Luther Lansfield was running early.
Eight am. Everyday at eight am he got up and made his way to the transport terminal from the Arkives. Everyday at 8:15am and no later, he reached the transporters and never needed to hand over his ID, they knew who he was- who wouldn't know the Owner?
"Good morning Owner, " says Azazer. At 8:20 and no later.
As head of the security personnel for the Sphere corporation, Azazer filtered those entering the Sphere company for, Azazer called, "precautionary security means." But Luther knew. He knew that Azazer got there at 8:15 and no later, so he could say "good morning" to him, and never miss a day. Azazer would get there at 8:15 and no later, adjusting the collar of his uniform, fingering the cuff of his sleeve, fixing the glasses perched on his fine ridge of his nose. At 8:15 and no later to sit in the lobby of Sphere 211 dreamily, only having woken up no less than thirty minutes prior. To await the Owner. To say "good morning."
At 8:25 Belzeber would come into the lobby with a hot cup of coffee and hand Luther the schedule for the day with a smile, accompanied by a list of programs that were reconfigured the night prior or debugging that was necessary for today. Luther looked over the files as Belzeber stood in the background, grin intact.
"We're right on schedule as of yesterday, Owner," followed Belzeber's eyes as they danced over Luther's slim figure.
According to schedule, Luther ignored Belzeber, immediately made note of today's work, and began drafting plans for the necessary adjustments as he strode past the security system of the firewall.
At 8:40 he reached his golden office.
Massive structures encircled him, an immense pendulum swung back and forth as he gripped his white coffee cup for a companion and finally took a sip. The coffee was cold, but black, the way he preferred.
Everything was like clockwork.
But that morning he was running early. Luther lay wide-eyed, drugged by insomnia, shifting pillows, kicking bed sheets away with his slender legs, only to quickly save the receding sheets with the corner of his toe. Slender fingers grasped the corner of his golden sheets, he pulled them above his head and lay submerged in the darkness. Tossing them off, he finally succumbed to sleeplessness.
Luther got to the Sphere Corporation building at 6:20am. It would be another two hours until he would hear "good morning" or grasp a white coffee cup that would cool by the time he reached his office. Passing the firewall in the ascent to his office felt foreign in the absence of a clipboard outlining the day's schedule. He teleported through ten flights of transporters until, two hours early at 6:40am, Luther stood in front of twin golden doors of his office, both equally intricate in design and marvel.
The realization hit that, by arriving early, he disrupted what was perfect clockwork in the Sphere Corporation. Contemplating possible consequences, Luther paced the glass floor of his office, counting innumerable stars beneath his feet. Whatever the damage, it could easily be reconfigured. He shrugged, all anomalies are easily corrected. In his earlier days before he took charge of the Sphere Corporation, Luther often received praise for his ability to not only quickly identify abnormalities in programs, but tactfully correct them. This insightful talent aided in his feasible accession to the corporation's top.
However the Owner's smirk dissolved into a sigh, thinking about problematic programs reminded him of the thoughts that plagued him in his previous restlessness.
"The anti-viruses should complete the deletion of the dysfunctional programs by today, " he mused.
The phrase brought a whimsical air to the way he traced stars through the glass floor with the edge of gold metal-plated shoes. He felt his muscles finally relax as he fixed his blue eyes onto the sweeping clock pendulum in the room. 6:45am it rung. He closed his eyes.
At 8:20am, Luther awoke. He frowned in dismay at the absence of a cup of cold black coffee or the day's schedule.
Instead, the intercom came on accompanied by Azazer's voice. In Sphere 211's lobby, Azazer adjusted the collar of his uniform as he strode forth before a blue-haired youth and his companions.
"Owner, there's been a security breach."
The pendulum swung back and forth, each arc that it struck reverberated throughout the golden walls stuck in suspension. The twin golden doors of his office shook in the echoing disruption of each stroke.
Everything was like ruined clockwork.
A/N: Is Luther the type to have golden bed sheets? For someone who thinks he's god, I would think so haha
Reviews are much appreciated. Show yourselves, Luther fans~
disclaimer: Star Ocean belongs to Luther Lansfield who belongs to Tri-Ace :