Now about five meters from his house, Aleksandr taps the left side of his neck twice, opening an interface that overlays his vision. He scrolls through applications and launches a red-arrowed music streaming software, opening his default playlist. As the first song begins, Aleksandr slings his briefcase over a shoulder and he begins moving toward his destination.
“Hey, Morozov,” a male voice behind Aleksandr mutters.
Aleksandr turns to face his sleep-deprived friend, lowering the volume of the song that had been playing.
“Andrei,” Aleksandr responds, acknowledging his friend’s appearance, “did you get your two hours of sleep last night?”
“Not even. I’ve been working non-stop on the overhaul,” Andrei murmurs, wiping away some unwashed residue caught under the dark bags below his eyes.
Aleksandr chuckles, replying, “A student of the prestigious Moscow State University should be allocating more time to his studies, not to the creation of game assets.”
Andrei glares at his friend, realizing the irony of the statement.
“Says the one who plays Dreamreign instead of actually dreaming. Playing games while sleeping? How do
you
not feel exhausted from all the stimulation?” Andrei mumbles, turning the corner after his friend.
The two are met by the towering skyscraper complex of the school. They are unfazed, however, by the building that most would be severely intimidated by, as they had come to be familiar with it.
“It’s unlike you to not be on top of your computer science game. Perhaps it’s that I study the neuroscience application of the field, but the overall interception process of the senses is elementary,” Aleksandr remarks.
Andrei, too tired to argue anymore, sighs and looks straight toward the entrance the two were heading to, preparing his ID card. The resident students make their way through the building and head toward their club room. The door opens, revealing a dark room seemingly devoid of life. Except that it wasn’t.
“Vanya, quit sleeping in the meeting room. That’s just weird,” Alexandr shouts into his coned hands.
Vasily, the person in mention, slowly opens his eyes and looks at the two intruders to his area of slumber. He double taps his neck and looks at the time. Rage floods his judgement, and his face flushes in anger.
“What the fuck are you guys doing? It’s four in the morning. Why are you even here?” Vasily yells.
He attempts a tactical retreat back into the blanket of the couch he had claimed as a bed, but Andrei is quick to turn on the lights. Defeated and disappointed, Vasily stands, uttering a few more swears under his breath.
“Didn’t we agree that we would meet a bit earlier so that we could finish our game before we got sucked into the appeal that is Dreamreign post-official launch?” Alexandr questions.
Vasily grunts, then takes his seat at the pentagonal table in the center of the room. The others follow suit, preparing their workspaces. Alexandr retrieves the developer console from its resting area on top shelf and powers it on.