The Artisan Courts, an intricate web of research and development hubs, stretched across Noir like a neural network of human ambition. Divided into specialized blocks, it was here that the future was forged, where independent and government institutions raced to outpace each other in the relentless pursuit of advancement.

  One such sector, the Science Block, was the heart of scientific innovation. Among the many faceless buildings stamped with the same sterile licenses, one stood apart, not in appearance, but in function. Officially, it was another genetic research facility. In reality, it was far more.

  Inside, behind its unassuming exterior, Loid, the head of Alexandrian R&D, and Yuri, a specialist in artificial genetics and space propulsion, worked in tandem to push the boundaries of human evolution. Though Alexandrian’s command center had shifted to Leth, Romagna, this place remained their core, a nerve center known as FOAM (Foundation of Alexandrian Movements).

  Situated deep within the dark zone of Esoterra, FOAM was a six-story monolith with two hidden basement levels, blending seamlessly with its surroundings. To the untrained eye, it was just another building. To those who knew better, it was the crucible of revolution.

  The hum of machinery pulsed through the lab, mingling with the sharp, sterile scent of chemicals. Holographic screens flickered, their soft blue light casting digital ghosts across the cold surfaces.

  Loid stood before one of the displays, arms crossed, eyes narrowed as he studied the latest PAGE simulation results. Beside him, Helena, his lead assistant, frowned as she parsed the data.

  "Even with this recalculation... the immune response is still out of control," she murmured. "We’re running straight into another Esoterra disaster."

  Loid exhaled slowly. "I know. Alexsir’s AGE formula gave us a foundation, but the deeper I dissect it, the clearer it becomes, this isn’t just genetic engineering, Helena. PAGE is something else entirely."

  Helena’s gaze lingered on the hovering graph. "Induced mutations, poly-genetic integration, synthetic transposons... The theories are elegant, but in practice?" She shook her head. "Even Naura, the most compatible subject, lost control and triggered a gamma burst. She wiped out an entire team, Loid. Tell me we’re still on the right track."

  Loid didn’t look at her. His eyes were fixed on the screen, on the tangled, volatile code of human evolution.

  "Naura…" His voice was quiet. "She was a victim of unchecked ambition. But that’s why we have to perfect PAGE. If we want to reach the next threshold, it’s a necessity."

  Helena studied him. "Then what’s next?"

  Loid hesitated for only a moment. "We stabilize the transposons. If we can program them to activate only in response to environmental stimuli, we control the mutations. They’ll adapt, evolve, without self-destruction."

  Helena took a slow breath, nodding. "I’ll start re-sequencing. But Loid… if we fail again, I don’t think anyone here will be left standing to try a third time."

  A thin, knowing smile tugged at Loid’s lips. "Then we won’t fail."

  In the dim light of the optogenetics lab, flickering neural maps and holographic schematics painted the air with shifting patterns of luminescent code.

  Yuri, her jet-black hair pulled into a loose twist, stood amidst the projections, her gaze distant, calculating. Across from her, Samuel, her colleague, hesitated before speaking.

  "The more I study Alexsir’s journal on Epigenetic-Programmed Impulse Control…" he said, voice low, "the more I’m convinced he never meant to finish it."

  Yuri didn’t turn. "I know."

  Samuel frowned. "It’s not research, it’s speculation. No empirical validation. And yet, here we are, chasing shadows."

  Yuri’s voice was flat. "We don’t have a choice, Samuel. This ‘Pandora’s Box’… it’s the key."

  Samuel’s lips pressed into a thin line. "You mean a curse."

  Yuri finally looked at him. "It’s both."

  The holograms reflected in Samuel’s tired eyes. "This whole concept, controlling artificial humans with light-encoded signals, do you even hear how insane that sounds?" He exhaled sharply. "We implant the pathways from birth, activate them at will... You call it control. I call it something else."

  "An escape," Yuri corrected. "From human unpredictability. From chaos."

  Samuel let out a hollow laugh. "And if they break free? If they reject the signals?"

  Yuri’s expression remained unreadable. "Then we’ll have failed."

  Samuel rubbed a hand over his face. "The singularity effect, Yuri. If they lose control, it won’t just be them burning, it’ll be the entire world order."

  Yuri nodded. "That’s why it has to be flawless. The signal distribution, the nanowireless framework, the environmental synchronization, no gaps. No room for error."

  Samuel’s voice dropped. "And if this falls into the wrong hands?"

  For the first time, Yuri hesitated. Then, her eyes darkened. "Then the world will know the true meaning of hell."

  Samuel stared at her, searching for something, doubt, hesitation, fear. He found none.

  "Aren’t you afraid?" he asked, almost a whisper.

  Yuri sighed, her voice steady but laced with something deeper, something colder.

  "Afraid, Samuel? Of course. That’s exactly why we have to be the ones to finish this."

  The fifth floor pulsed with the glow of monitors, a symphony of keystrokes and the quiet hum of servers filling the dimly lit space. Ron sat at his main terminal, his fingers hovering over the holographic interface as streams of data flickered across the air before him.

  A translucent screen lit up with an incoming report.

  "Ron, the backdoor into the Unoseis main hub is installed. Interplanetary intercom is now open... at least for us."

  A slow grin tugged at the corner of Ron’s lips. "Good. Bury the encryption deep. I don’t want anyone even suspecting we exist behind the curtain."

  Another operator leaned in from a side console. "Rosberg and Quinella have begun planting the packages in Indoterra. Operation Backdoor is moving as planned."

  Ron gave a sharp nod. "Keep tracking their movements. If things go south, we need to ensure their exit is clear at all times."

  A third voice chimed in from the opposite side of the room. "We're still not fully synchronized with Yuri’s team on the holographic device. It’s the only thing keeping Rosberg and Quinella from standing out."

  Ron exhaled slowly, rubbing his temple. "Then I’ll speak to Yuri myself. That hologram isn’t just a tool, it’s the difference between life and death."

  The cafeteria was vast yet eerily quiet, a space meant for respite but now serving as an impromptu war room. The tension was almost tangible as Loid, Yuri, and Ron sat around a table, each lost in their own thoughts.

  Loid broke the silence first. "I heard from Helena… your team, Yuri, is close to finalizing the holographic disguise."

  Yuri, her fingers idly tracing the rim of her cup, nodded. "We're in the last stages. If synchronization with the optogenetic system holds, the device won’t just manipulate light, it will mimic environmental thermal signatures. It’ll be as if they don’t exist."

  Ron leaned forward, his gaze sharp. "Then we need it now. Rosberg and Quinella are already deep in Indoterra. If their disguise breaks, "

  "It’s over." Yuri finished for him, meeting his eyes without a flinch. "You think I don’t know that? That’s exactly why I won’t release it until it's flawless. If it leaks, they won’t have a second chance."

  Loid leaned back in his chair, exhaling through his nose. "This whole thing… PAGE, Pandora’s Box, Backdoor… we’re tampering with forces that could burn us alive."

  Ron’s expression remained unreadable. "And what choice do we have? This is the only radical path to achieving something beyond the limits placed on us."

  Yuri set her cup down gently, her voice barely above a whisper. "An extraordinary goal, huh…? I think the answer has always been much simpler than all these convoluted solutions."

  Silence settled between them again, heavier this time. Outside the cafeteria's glass panels, the world carried on as if history wasn’t being rewritten in the shadows.

  Indoterra – 1950 AM, Monday, June 18

  Beneath the orange-tinged sky, a row of metallic barracks stretched along the recruitment grounds. A line of new arrivals, stiff in their freshly issued uniforms, stood at attention. Among them, a young man with hair that blended with the sky's hues remained composed, his posture effortlessly natural. He had embedded himself within their ranks, disguised as one of the SOC transfer personnel.

  A commanding officer’s voice cut through the dry morning air.

  "Recruits, step forward one by one. State your origin and previous unit!"

  The young man took a measured step forward.

  "Montrose. Special Operations Command of the Interplanetary Federation."

  The officer gave a slight nod of approval. "SOC, huh? Not bad… you guys usually come well-trained."

  A voice murmured beside Montrose, low but casual.

  "You from SOC too?"

  Montrose turned his head slightly. A burly man with a civilian’s ease of movement was adjusting his uniform, a faint smirk playing on his lips.

  "You?" Montrose asked.

  The man gave a small, knowing smile. "Andri. Just got pulled in. SOC too. Though, I was mostly in tactical research."

  Montrose studied him for a second. "Tactical research? You don’t see many from research thrown into the field like this."

  Andri let out a dry chuckle. "You think I signed up for this? Indoterra is… different. You know they don’t follow the old aristocratic system here, right?"

  Montrose gave a slow nod. "I’ve heard. They appoint leaders directly through the Federation Executive Council."

  Andri glanced around before lowering his voice. "That’s why the projects here are insane. Word is, they’re developing a next-gen fighter, full stealth, zero emission. Even the SOC doesn’t have full access to the specs yet."

  Montrose’s eyes sharpened. "Where did you hear that?"

  Andri grinned. "You think I only research tactics? I have my ways."

  Montrose exhaled, gaze steady. "What else do you know?"

  Andri leaned in slightly, voice barely above a whisper. "The perfect human project. It’s been in the works for years, though I don’t know the full details."

  Montrose’s fingers curled into a fist. "Perfect humans… they’re still chasing that?"

  Andri nodded. "Yeah. Anyway, let’s just say we’re standing at the edge of something that’s going to redefine what it means to be human."

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  A labyrinth of sterile hallways stretched within the research complex. The rhythmic hum of analytical devices filled the air, punctuated by the occasional hiss of pressurized doors. Among the steady stream of researchers, a woman with green and blue braids moved with quiet precision. Her steps were measured, her expression unreadable. The ID badge clipped to her coat marked her as a newly transferred researcher.

  "Virella, right?"

  A bright, chirpy voice broke through the hum of machinery. Virella barely glanced over.

  A woman with short, curly hair and an easy smile was keeping pace beside her. "I’m Tania. Looks like we’re on the same team starting today."

  Virella let out a quiet grunt, barely acknowledging her.

  Tania chuckled. "Not much of a talker, huh? That’s fine… I like the quiet ones."

  Virella exhaled, flicking her gaze back to the terminal screen she was reviewing.

  "What?" she muttered.

  Tania stepped a little closer, lowering her voice. "You’ve seen the project down in Zone 7, right? I heard they’re developing warp technology."

  Virella’s fingers froze over the terminal.

  "W-warp?"

  Tania nodded, her excitement barely contained. "Yeah. A whole new class of travel. They say it can transport objects across space without relying on hyperspace tunnels. They’re calling it Compression Warp, directly overseen by the aristocratic committee."

  Virella exhaled sharply. "C-compression W-warp?"

  Tania’s gaze flicked left and right before she leaned in further. "And, you didn’t hear this from me, but this tech? It’s being pushed forward for a reason."

  Virella frowned. "W-what r-reason?"

  Tania hesitated for half a second before whispering, "Galactic Confederation."

  Virella’s pulse quickened. "W-what a-are y-you s-saying?"

  Tania’s voice dropped lower. "The Federation’s been in contact with them. An old power, far older than us. And not everyone up there agrees that we should know about it."

  Virella’s grip on the terminal tightened. "Y-y-your s-source?"

  Tania flashed a small, knowing smile. "Insiders. But don’t worry, I’m not here to set you up. I know you’re not just an ordinary researcher."

  Virella turned her face away, her voice barely audible. "I-I d-don’t k-know w-what y-you mean."

  Tania chuckled. "Relax… I’ll keep your secret. Besides, you’re not the only one sick of the aristocrats’ little games."

  The barracks were eerily quiet at this hour, the hum of ventilation systems the only sound filling the dimly lit room. Montrose sat on his bunk, staring at the scuffed metal floor, his mind replaying the day’s conversations.

  A shadow crossed his vision as Andri appeared at the doorway, carrying two cans of synthetic drink.

  He tossed one toward Montrose. "You look like you need this."

  Montrose caught it without looking up. He hesitated before cracking the can open.

  "Are you sure this was the right move?" His voice was low, distant.

  Andri leaned against the metal frame of the bunk opposite him, taking a slow sip of his drink. His smirk never quite reached his eyes.

  "Right move? Since when do we get to make choices? The moment you get stamped with an SOC designation, your life isn’t yours anymore."

  Montrose exhaled through his nose, taking a sip. The synthetic taste did little to clear his mind.

  "You realize we just stepped into a snake pit," he muttered.

  Andri swirled the liquid in his can, expression unreadable. "Of course." Then, a slow smirk tugged at his lips. "But in a snake pit, the only ones who survive, " He took another sip. ", are the ones who learn to be more venomous."

  Nestled in the heart of Indoterra’s research complex, the Joint Cafeteria was a rare pocket of normalcy amidst the rigid structure of military and scientific operations. Located in Sector 4BC1, it served as a shared space where researchers, operators, and military personnel could momentarily shed the weight of their duties. Some traveled from distant sectors just to enjoy its relative freedom, a luxury in a place where rules dictated every breath.

  It was also where Montrose and Virella would often find themselves crossing paths.

  Montrose and Andri stepped away from the buffet line, their trays laden with synthetic protein and nutrient-packed sides. As they scanned the cafeteria, Montrose’s eyes settled on a familiar figure sitting alone in the corner. Without hesitation, he strode over, Andri trailing behind.

  “Yo, Qui, ” Montrose caught himself, adjusting his tone. “Dr. Virella… how’s life treating you?”

  Virella barely lifted her gaze, pushing a strand of her green-blue braids behind her ear. “Hmp, Oh, M-Montrose… I-I’m f-fine.”

  Andri arched an eyebrow as he took a seat beside Montrose. “You know each other?”

  Montrose leaned back with a grin. “Oh yeah, we go way back. Long before I joined the military. Never expected to run into her here.”

  Andri nodded. “Small world, huh.”

  Montrose gestured between them. “Virella, this is Andri, my unit mate, roommate, and unfortunate drinking buddy. Andri, meet Dr. Virella, a researcher in…” He hesitated, glancing at her. “Uh, what field again?”

  Virella cleared her throat. “A-Advanced P-Physics Theory Division.”

  Andri smiled. “Pleasure, Dr. Virella. And no need to be nervous.”

  “Hahaha, trust me,” Montrose chuckled. “Nervous or not, she’s always like this.”

  Andri shot him a look. “Come on, Montrose, don’t tease. Everyone has their own way of speaking.”

  “Alright, alright,” Montrose raised his hands in mock surrender. “By the way, Virella, why’re you eating alone?”

  Conversation flowed between bites, their trays gradually emptying as familiarity settled in.

  Montrose exhaled contentedly. “Same old Virella. Your habits never change.”

  Just then, something clicked in his memory. “Oh, Andri, you submitted yesterday’s patrol report, right?”

  Andri froze, eyes widening. “Shit. Why are you just reminding me now?”

  Montrose smirked. “Sorry, got distracted by my stomach. If you wanna get it in before our shift, you better move. Break’s almost over.”

  Andri groaned, already rising. “You’re the worst, Montrose. You coming?”

  “Nah, you go ahead. Haven’t seen Virella in ages. Got some catching up to do.”

  Andri gave a mock salute. “Alright then. See you later, Dr. Virella.”

  As Andri disappeared into the bustling cafeteria, a shift in the air settled between Montrose and Virella. Gone was the light chatter from before, now, only unspoken understanding lingered.

  Montrose rested an elbow on the table, voice lowering. “That must’ve been exhausting for you, huh?”

  Virella let out a quiet breath. “Hmmph.”

  “As I thought.” Montrose studied her carefully. “Not much of a fan of small talk, are you? Have you found anyone you can actually talk to?”

  “Hmmph.” Virella turned slightly, watching Andri’s retreating figure before exhaling again, this time sharper. “Hmmph hmmph.”

  Montrose’s gaze followed hers. “Yeah, I know. But we still need one or two ‘rides’, right? Emotional ties would just get in the way.”

  Virella tilted her head, her expression unreadable. “Hmmph hmmph?”

  Montrose chuckled lightly. “Just like we promised back then. You’re a researcher, I’m military. I’ll probably get a better ‘view’ of things than you will.” He tapped his fingers against the table. “Besides, the ‘landmarks’ here are already mapped out. Won’t be hard to spot them.”

  Virella’s head tilted again, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Hmm…mmph?”

  “This place works,” Montrose replied nonchalantly. “It’s crowded, plenty of background noise, and…” His lips curled into a smirk. “Very friendly. So yeah, a perfect ‘lunch spot.’”

  Virella’s brow quirked. “Hmmph?”

  Montrose leaned back in his chair. “Only during lunch, though. No choice but to stick to the barracks for dinner.”

  A quick glance at the wall clock made him sigh. “Damn, break’s almost up. Gotta go. We’ll pick this up later, alright?”

  Virella gave a small nod, her voice softer. “Hmmph hmmph.”

  Montrose grinned. “Worried about me? Don’t be. You take care too.”

  With that, he pushed himself up, disappearing into the ebb and flow of the cafeteria crowd. Virella watched him go, fingers absently tracing the rim of her tray.

  To an outsider, their conversation would have seemed like nothing more than a casual exchange between long-lost acquaintances. But Montrose and Virella were not old friends reminiscing over a chance reunion.

  They were something else entirely.

  And they understood each other perfectly.

  Yuna stepped out of the women's bathroom, entering the drying room. With a press of a button on the wall, warm air whooshed from the floor and ceiling, ruffling her black-purple hair. She stood still, letting the heat evaporate the lingering dampness on her skin. Once dry, she ran a hand through her slightly tangled hair, smoothing it out before heading into the changing room.

  She slipped into her towel kimono with practiced ease and made her way to the common room.

  There, seated on one of the sofas, was Naura, her friend, her supposed shower successor, completely engrossed in a tablet. She scrolled through the screen, her eyes scanning rapidly, utterly absorbed in whatever she was reading. Yuna didn't announce her presence, simply watching for a moment before stepping behind the sofa. A quick peek over Naura’s shoulder revealed the title of the article she was reading:

  "ALEXSIR VASSEUR, A VASSEUR WHO EXCEEDED STELLAR DOMINATION IN TU"

  The webpage header read trappistanuniv.ac/news, and the publication date at the bottom was from four years ago, 1946 AM.

  Yuna smirked. "Wow, digging through archives? That’s rare… Could it be that someone’s getting curious about Alexsir Vasseur, hmm?" She leaned lazily against the sofa, her grin widening.

  Naura jolted, instinctively hugging the tablet to her chest as she turned toward Yuna. "N-no! This… this is for future mission reference! Just basic info, important for context!"

  "Oh? For a mission?" Yuna leaned closer, her tone dripping with playful skepticism. "Or... for something else?"

  "R-really, it's for the mission!" Naura stammered, her cheeks blooming red. "This is important… I swear!"

  "Yeah, yeah, I totally believe you." Yuna chuckled, straightening up. "Anyway, I’m done with my shower. Your turn."

  "O-oh… right. I forgot…" Naura murmured, momentarily lost before she snapped back to reality.

  "Better hurry," Yuna added with a mischievous smile, arms crossed. "Wouldn’t want you daydreaming too much, we’ve got a mission tomorrow. Focus."

  Naura nodded rapidly. "Y-yeah… yes… I’ll go now!"

  She practically bolted toward the bathroom, head ducked in embarrassment.

  Yuna watched her go, stifling a giggle.

  Accel leaned back against the wall, eyes flicking between the data streams scrolling across his device. He let out a lazy exhale. “Told you… their lines are stale. I ran an old script, and it slipped right through.”

  Lawrence, crouched beside him, rolled his eyes as he worked the cable connections. “Yeah, yeah, less bragging, more working. If you get caught, don’t expect me to bail you out.”

  Accel smirked, fingers dancing over the interface. “Relax. I work cleaner than your whining.”

  Lawrence snorted. “If everyone thought like you, this city would’ve been burned to the ground already. Here, new code from Lia. Receiving on channel three.”

  A moment later, Lia’s voice crackled through their comms, cool and direct. “Accel, Lawrence, priority shift. Max wants you in the industrial zone. Target’s changed.”

  Accel stifled a yawn. “Lia, if you’re just bored over there, you can tell me. No need to start tossing orders around.”

  Lia chuckled. “Not me, genius. Max’s orders. Now move.”

  Lawrence grinned, slapping Accel’s shoulder. “Hear that? The big boss is making moves. Time to go.”

  Naura and Yuna moved swiftly through the narrow corridors, the rhythmic clatter of their boots echoing against the cold metal walls. Naura’s face was clouded, her mind clearly elsewhere.

  Yuna glanced at her. “Still thinking about Alexsir?”

  Naura tensed, snapping out of her daze. “N-no! I-I was just, ”

  Yuna sighed, stretching her arms behind her head as they walked. “We’ll go after him later. For now, focus. Finish this mission first, or Hilda’s gonna rip you apart for pulling up databases in the middle of an op.”

  Naura let out a small snort. “Hilda’s scary when she’s mad, huh?”

  The comms flared to life with Hilda’s unmistakable sharp tone. “I heard that, Naura. I’m scary because you two are idiots. After the mission, both of you, medical check. No excuses.”

  Naura and Yuna exchanged glances before breaking into soft chuckles.

  “Understood, Chief…” they said in unison.

  Lawrence smirked as he leaned against the console, glancing at Accel. “Shoit, huh? They say Rosianna’s the most secure city.”

  Accel snorted, barely looking up from his screen. “Not bad… took me ten minutes to crack into their core server.”

  Lawrence clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Well, look at you. Just don’t get cocky. One slip, and we’re getting the VIP treatment in Rosianna’s interrogation rooms.”

  Lia’s voice filtered through the channel, laced with dry amusement. “Don’t underestimate them. In Rosianna, everything we do is tracked. I’ve set up a backup channel, switch to it.”

  Accel pressed a button, shifting the frequency. “Alright, alright, calm down, Lia. I know how to play this game… Besides, I’ve got Lawrence the chatterbox watching my back.”

  Lawrence scowled. “You’re the chatterbox, idiot!”

  Hilda stood with her arms crossed, her sharp gaze sweeping over the group. “Alright, everyone in. I’m checking you one by one.”

  Naura groaned, dragging her feet. “Chief, come on… we’re fine.”

  Hilda arched a brow. “Oh? Should I call Dr. Samantha instead? Let her personally check you… and tease you in front of Yuna?”

  Before Naura could protest, a familiar voice chimed in. “Too late. Already here.”

  Dr. Samantha strolled in with a knowing grin, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “So, who am I roasting first?”

  Yuna barely suppressed a chuckle. “Naura, Chief. Easy target.”

  Samantha turned to Naura, lips twitching in amusement. “Naura, Naura… do you think hacking doesn’t fry your brain? Go on, sit down. Let’s check before you start blaming me when something shorts out up there.”

  Naura snorted, rolling her eyes as she dropped into the chair. “I hate this place.”

  Hilda smirked. “That means I’m doing my job right.”

  A middle-aged man with graying hair and a thick mustache sat quietly on a park bench, bathed in the soft glow of artificial lights. With the planet’s star drifting beyond the horizon, the city was cast into shadow, leaving only the manufactured illumination in its place. He sat still, absorbing the atmosphere, waiting.

  Footsteps approached along the gravel path. A younger man, dressed in a courier’s uniform, strode toward him. A sling bag hung over his shoulder, his cap pulled low. Without hesitation, he stopped in front of the bench, reaching into his bag and pulling out a neatly wrapped box.

  “Package for Mr. Max,” the courier said, his tone brisk, professional.

  Max lifted his gaze, meeting the courier’s eyes before taking the box from his hands.

  “Please sign here to complete the delivery,” the courier added, holding out a tablet with a stylus attached.

  Max didn’t sign immediately. Instead, he spoke, his voice measured. “Holtman, keep your senses sharp for anything coming out of Rosianna.”

  Holtman’s expression didn’t shift, but his eyes narrowed slightly, processing the words. “Oh? Expansion into Rosianna, huh?” He exhaled through his nose. “Alright… you planning to set up shop there?”

  Max finally moved, pressing the stylus to the screen as he signed. “Not yet. For now, just watch. We might not be the only ones being sniffed out.”

  Holtman retrieved the tablet, slipping it back into his bag with a nod. “Got it. Always a pleasure doing business with you, sir.” He gave a half-smile before turning on his heel, disappearing down the path.

  Max remained seated for a moment longer, watching Holtman’s figure fade into the crowd. Then, without a word, he stood and walked in the opposite direction.

  "You know ####, Hercules is a famous person too....like Socrates and Aristotle. But Hercules is a hero."

  A little blonde girl with ruby eyes said cheerfully, her small hands gripping the hem of her dress as she turned to face her companion.

  Beside her stood a brown-haired boy with emerald-green eyes, his arms crossed proudly.

  "Then I am Hercules!" the boy declared with confidence.

  The little girl giggled, shaking her head.

  "Hahaha! You’re not Hercules, and you don’t need to be Hercules! You are Helki!"

  The boy blinked in confusion.

  "Huh? Helki? Who's that? Is he famous?"

  The little girl tapped a finger to her lips, thinking before she spoke again.

  "Hmm… no, he’s not famous. And he doesn’t need to be famous."

  She turned to him, her ruby-red eyes shining with warmth.

  "But he is my hero."

  The boy's expression softened.

  "Your hero?" he asked.

  The little girl nodded.

  "Yes. The hero I always long for. The hero who will always be there for me. And the hero who will always be mine."

  The boy scratched his head, puzzled.

  "Hmm, what does that mean, Nana? I don’t really get it… but if you’re happy with that, then I am Helki!"

  His grin widened as he puffed out his chest.

  "I am Helki!!"

  Naura gasped.

  Her eyes shot open, her heart pounding against her ribs as the voice of that boy, his declaration still echoed in her ears.

  "I am Helki!!"

  A single tear slipped down her cheek.

  Why was she crying?

  She didn’t understand.

  But deep down… she knew it was something precious.

  She slowly sat up, wiping her damp cheeks as her breath steadied.

  The name still lingered on her lips.

  "Helki, huh…?"

  She whispered the name, a small, wistful smile forming on her face.