The year is 1998.

The sun had just begun its slow descent behind the Sandia Mountains, casting a warm, amber glow across Albuquerque's dusty streets. It was a chilly evening, where the fading daylight made the town feel like it was oddly melancholic — Autumn was settling in fast, trees beginning to show signs of loosing their leaves, and the wind was a bit more chillier now.

Tucked away on a quiet corner of Central Avenue, Galactic Comics & Games was bathed in the golden hour's light, its neon sign flickering to life as twilight approached. The shop was a small, cozy haven for the town’s geeks, its windows lined with vintage action figures, dog-eared comic books, and posters of sci-fi epics.

The sun dipped low, painting the sky in a riot of colors—fiery oranges and deep purples blending seamlessly into one another. The Sandia Mountains, towering in the distance, caught the last rays of daylight, their rugged peaks glowing a soft, rosy pink. As the light shifted, the shadows stretched longer across the chilly, autumn city, turning the adobe buildings into silhouettes against the vibrant horizon