The door slid open to reveal her—Selene, framed in the soft glow of real sunlight, her damp hair cascading over her shoulders. She was beautiful, no denying that, but Asa felt no stir of romance, She’s just a job.

  "You're early," she murmured, her voice still lazy from sleep. She turned without waiting for a response, walking back into her vast suite, the soft glow of morning light following her.

  The door whirred shut behind him—automatic and smooth, unlike the low, almost imperceptible hum of a sterile air train carriage, which stood in stark contrast to the chaotic symphony of anxieties that often echoed in Joon’s mind.

  Quarantine Zone Record: Sector-52, Pre-collapse Era

  The late afternoon sun cast long, skeletal shadows across the train carriage, painting the worn seats in stripes of dusty gold and muted grey. For Joon, the ride home was usually a welcome respite, a brief pocket of solitude after another draining day navigating the labyrinthine bureaucracy of the Records Archive.

  Today, however, the familiar rhythm of the rails was a fragile counterpoint to the unsettling images still flickering behind his eyelids.

  The news blared from every available screen, a cacophony of panicked voices and flashing graphics. "The Nova-Cure is Here!" the headlines screamed, but the relief was quickly overshadowed by the chilling details that followed. Every garment, the experts declared, was now a major vector for the deadly new virus, Virulent X. Microscopic fibers, they claimed, harbored the pathogen.

  He sighed, leaning his head against the cool glass of the window. The blur of the cityscape offered a temporary distraction, a kaleidoscope of concrete and steel softened by the fading light. He was grateful for the relative emptiness of the carriage. Usually, the commute was a tightly packed affair, a jostling sea of humanity. Today, though, space offered a small measure of peace.

  Stolen story; please report.

  Suddenly, the train lurched to a stop, and the doors at the end of the carriage hissed open, slicing through the quiet hum of the train. Joon glanced up idly, expecting another weary commuter. His eyes snapped open.

  She was stunning. An office lady, he guessed, from the small tie around her neck and the high heels on her feet, obsidian-heeled shoes that somehow accentuated the elegant length of her legs.

  Joon's breath hitched in his throat. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. She walked confidently into the car, and stood right in front of him.

  Oh my god, he thought, his eyes wide with shock and disbelief. She's… she's perfect.

  The woman glanced at him, her expression cool and composed.

  He swallowed, trying to regain his composure. "Um, excuse me," he said, his voice a little rough. "Would you… would you like my seat?"

  She turned her head, her eyes meeting his. They were warm, intelligent, and held a hint of amusement. "Oh, thank you," she said, her voice smooth and melodic. "But my stop is just a few minutes away. I don't mind standing."

  Her gaze lingered on him for a moment, and Naen felt a jolt of electricity. It was as if she could see the effect she was having on him.

  She continued to stand there, her body a tantalizing presence in front of him. Joon couldn't take his eyes off her. He was mesmerized.

  He watched her, his gaze tracing the lines of her body, the way her muscles flexed as she shifted her weight. He was completely captivated.

  Finally, the train reached her stop. The woman turned and walked towards the doors. Joon's eyes followed her, his desire growing with every movement.

  As she stepped off the train, she turned back and looked at him, her eyes meeting his. She held his gaze for a moment, a hint of a smile on her lips, and then she was gone.

  Joon sat there, stunned. He couldn't believe what had just happened. He was incredibly fluter?. He had to get off this train.

  I have to see her again, he thought, his heart pounding. I don't know why, but I need to find her. I need to… to talk to her. To… to…

  He stood up abruptly, ignoring the curious glances of the other passengers. He walked to the doors, his mind made up.

  He had to follow her.