In the heart of Neo-Brightville, where the streets hummed like a thousand purring cats and the air smelled of bubblegum and rain, there lived a boy named Darius. His sneakers were always untied, his pockets stuffed with odd treasures—a shiny bolt, a squishy gel ball, and a half-eaten energy bar that had somehow survived three laundry cycles. The city sparkled around him, towers stretching up like giant metal trees, their windows blinking like sleepy fireflies.

One morning, as Darius slurped his neon-blue cereal (which fizzed like soda and tasted like a rainbow), a *BZZZT!* crackled from the hologram screen above the kitchen table. A voice boomed, "Attention, Neo-Brightville citizens! The Great Glowing Skyscraper needs a hero to light up its top floor! Whoever succeeds will win a year’s supply of hoverboard fuel!"

Darius’s spoon clattered into his bowl. His heart did a little flip, like a pancake in a hot pan. The Great Glowing Skyscraper was the tallest, twisty-est building in the city, its top floor hidden behind a curtain of swirling clouds. No one had ever reached it. Not even the fancy robot delivery guys with their jetpacks. The wind up there howled like a pack of hungry wolves, and the stairs—well, no one even knew if there were stairs.

"I could do it," Darius whispered, his fingers curling around the edge of the table. But then his stomach gave a nervous gurgle, and his knees wobbled like jelly. What if I fall? What if I’m not brave enough? He looked down at his untied shoelaces. What if I trip on the first step?

His best friend, a scruffy robot dog named Zippy, zoomed into the room with a *CLANK-CLANK* of his rusty paws. "Darius! Did you hear? We gotta try!" Zippy’s tail wagged so hard it sent a stack of empty snack wrappers flying. "I’ll help! I’ll—" *BONK!* He crashed into the fridge, sending a magnet shaped like a pizza slice tumbling to the floor. Darius giggled, but his hands were still clenched tight.

The next morning, Darius stood at the base of the skyscraper, his breath puffing out in little clouds. The building loomed over him, its metal walls cold and smooth under his fingertips, like the belly of a sleeping dragon. A crowd had gathered, their whispers buzzing like a hive of bees. "Look, it’s Darius!" "He’s just a kid!" "No way he’ll make it!"

Darius’s throat felt dry, like he’d swallowed a handful of sand. Zippy nudged his leg. "C’mon, Darius! One step at a time!" So Darius took a step. Then another. And another. The first flight of stairs was easy—well, except for the part where he tripped over his shoelace and face-planted onto a step. *WHUMP!* The crowd gasped. Zippy helped him up, his metal ears drooping. "You okay?" Darius wiped his nose and grinned. "Yep! Just testing the gravity."

Higher and higher they climbed. The air grew thinner, smelling of ozone and something sharp, like a just-lit sparkler. The stairs twisted and turned, sometimes disappearing into patches of fog so thick Darius couldn’t see his own hands. Zippy’s paws slipped on a slick metal step, and *CLANG!* he tumbled down three stairs before catching himself. "Whoa! That was close!" he yelped, shaking his head like a wet dog.

Halfway up, Darius’s legs burned like they were on fire. His lungs felt like two deflated balloons. He plopped down on a step, his back against the cold railing. "I can’t do it, Zippy," he said, his voice small. "I’m too small. Too slow. Too… untied." Zippy sat beside him, his tail thumping softly. "Remember when you built that treehouse in your backyard? Everyone said it’d fall apart. But you kept trying. And now it’s the best treehouse in Neo-Brightville!" Darius picked at a loose thread on his sleeve. "But this is different. This is… scary."

Zippy leaned in, his nose almost touching Darius’s. "Scary is just exciting with a fancy hat." Darius snorted. "That doesn’t even make sense." Zippy grinned. "Exactly! So let’s keep going!"

With a deep breath, Darius stood up. His legs wobbled, but he took another step. And another. The higher they climbed, the stranger the sounds became—the *whoosh* of wind through the gaps in the stairs, the *creak* of metal stretching, the distant *ping* of something unseen. The texture of the railing changed too, from smooth and cold to rough and warm, like the bark of an old tree.

Finally, after what felt like a million steps (and one very dramatic slip on a banana peel someone had definitely left there on purpose), Darius and Zippy reached the top. The door to the final floor was a swirl of glowing blue light, humming like a giant tuning fork. Darius reached out—his fingers tingled as they passed through the light. *Whoa.*

Inside, the room was empty except for a single, enormous button in the center of the floor. It pulsed with a soft, golden glow, like a tiny sun. Darius’s heart pounded so hard he could feel it in his toes. This is it. The moment. He looked at Zippy, who gave him a thumbs-up with his paw. "You got this," Zippy said.

Darius took a deep breath and pressed the button. *CLICK.*

For a second, nothing happened. Then—*WHOOSH!*—the walls of the skyscraper lit up like a fireworks display. Colors swirled and danced, painting the sky in shades of pink, purple, and gold. The crowd below erupted into cheers, their voices carried up by the wind. Darius’s face split into a grin so wide it hurt. He’d done it. He’d really done it.

As Darius and Zippy rode the elevator back down (because even heroes need a break sometimes), the hologram screen flickered to life again. "Congratulations, Darius! You’ve won a year’s supply of hoverboard fuel!" The crowd cheered even louder. Zippy did a happy dance, his paws skidding on the floor. "Told you you could do it!"

Darius’s cheeks were warm, and his shoelaces were still untied. But as he looked out at the glowing skyscraper, he knew one thing for sure: next time someone said, "You can’t do it," he’d just smile and say, "Watch me."