January 2, 2030
The year did not arrive gently.
January 2 came with traffic, inboxes, and the quiet aggression of calendars snapping back into place. There were no fireworks left in the air, no lingering countdown energy. The city had reset itself like a machine returning to operating temperature.
Timothy felt it the moment he stepped into TG Tower.
The lobby no longer smelled like pine. Facilities had taken the tree down sometime during the holiday break. The space looked cleaner for it, sharper, like it had shed sentiment along with the decorations. Security had rotated back to full staffing. The red cap was gone. Everyone moved with purpose again.
The elevator ride up was crowded.
