Have you ever wondered why the earth and sky are so far apart?
The trampled earth and the upheld sky.
People look down when they feel defeated and look up when they feel proud. They call the earth dirty and the sky holy, but is that just ignorance? A refusal to face reality? Or are they simply jealous of the sky’s endless freedom?
Yet, when the very ground beneath their feet disappears, they praise it.
Ironic? Maybe.
This world is cruel, beauty or worth mean nothing unless you can make yourself indispensable. If you have no value, you are forgotten.
But that’s what makes the world beautiful.
Because when not everything can be owned, we find something stronger.
Determination.
And in this beautiful, cruel world, determination is what tells you where home truly is.
Earth 2.0 – 1950 AM, Wednesday, June 13
LYOD City Warehouse Area not far from Block F – 16:15
Naura and Accel ran.
They needed as much distance as possible from the Pandora’s Box operation site. The mission had failed. And nothing is worse than failure, except capture.
In a war of ideology, information is the deadliest weapon. The side that can dig deeper and manipulate information will always have the advantage. And in an era where genetic manipulation is common practice, interrogation isn’t even necessary anymore.
If they got caught, it was over.
They weaved through the industrial maze of warehouses, their boots pounding against the pavement. But just as they reached a side alley....
"Arghh!"
Accel stumbled, his face contorted in pain.
"Accel! Let me see your arm!" Naura grabbed him, her voice sharp with concern.
She yanked up his sleeve, and her stomach dropped.
A sickly blue glow pulsed from the wound, the surrounding veins already stiffening. Paralyzing plasma infection, occurs when the muzzle of the paralyzer blaster is miscalibrated or sometimes when fired by a non-professional.
Her grip tightened. They had no time.
"This is bad! We have to cut it off!"
Accel nodded without hesitation. "Do it."
Naura hesitated. "We don’t have anesthetics."
"One arm is a small price to pay for our mission. I won't let myself become their information source or a burden to our comrades."
His voice was steady.
Naura inhaled sharply, then shoved a glove into his mouth. "Bite this."
"Just get it over with."
She flicked on her helium plasma knife. A concentrated blue-white blade ignited, humming in the air.
Naura swallowed hard.
Then, she cut.
SQUEAK-WHOOSH.
Each layer of flesh sizzled under the plasma. The scent of burning tissue filled the alley.
"HRRGGGHHH....!!"
Accel’s muffled scream ripped through the fabric in his mouth. His entire body shook violently, his free hand clawing at the ground as she worked through skin, muscle, tendon....
And then....
Bone.
The blade cut through cleanly, sealing the wound instantly. No excessive blood loss....but the pain? The pain remained.
Naura’s hands trembled as she powered off the knife. Even after years of emergency surgeries, she hated this.
Still, she worked fast....grabbing antiseptic from her first aid kit and wrapping the stump in sterile bandages. The plasma had cauterized the wound, but an artificial seal wasn’t the same as real healing.
She glanced at Accel’s face. He was pale, sweat dripping down his temple. But he was alive.
"How do you feel?"
Accel exhaled shakily. "Huuh… huh… better than before."
"Should I destroy your arm with DNA dissolvent, or do you want to take it?"
"Just destroy it." His voice was firm. "Dead weight."
Naura nodded. She stripped the fabric from the severed limb, then poured the DNA dissolvent over it. The liquid hissed, dissolving the flesh into an unidentifiable mess. Within seconds, the arm was gone.
She turned back to Accel. "Can you move?"
Accel flexed his remaining fingers, then pushed himself up. "Yeah. Let’s get out of this city."
They resumed their escape, retracing the pre-planned route out of the LYOD warehouse sector.
At the final checkpoint, a camouflaged anti-gravity drone lay hidden, a lifeline parked just beyond security radar.
If they stayed on course, they could exit the Unoseis Union undetected.
The mission had failed, but at least they were still breathing.
For now.
Earth 2.0 – 1950 AM, Friday, June 15
Leth, Romagna – 10:00
Romagna, a neighboring country of the Unoseis Union, sat at meridian longitude on Earth 2.0. This year, it lingered at the edge of the twilight zone, a place caught between lingering daylight and encroaching darkness. In Leth, a city on Romagna’s westernmost frontier, Alexandrian had established its branch operations. Though technically a subsidiary site, on Earth 2.0, this was their true command center. The actual headquarters remained hidden deep within the dark zone of Esoterra, beyond the reach of prying eyes.
Camouflaged as an electronics repair shop, the five-story building gave no outward hint of the covert activity within. One floor housed a common room, a space where members gathered....to unwind, exchange intel, or simply take a breath between missions. The television mounted on the wall flickered with the latest news updates, its dull hum filling the room.
“A SOUNDWAVE-JET PLANE WAS DISCOVERED CRASHED OFF THE SOUTH COAST OF STEPPE CITY, ROSIANNA . THE PILOT HAS BEEN IDENTIFIED AS MR. ALEXSIR VASSEUR, SON OF UNOSEIS UNION PRESIDENTIAL CANDIDATE AND HEAD OF THE VASSEUR FAMILY, MR. RUSSLE VASSEUR.”
The report continued.
“THIS IDENTIFICATION IS SUPPORTED BY DOCUMENTS FOUND AT THE SITE, INCLUDING AN IDENTITY CARD, PASSPORT, PILOT’S LICENSE, AND BANK RECORDS UNDER THE NAME ALEXSIR VASSEUR. IN ADDITION, AUTHORITIES RECOVERED A WASTE MANAGEMENT LICENSE AND A CARGO HOVERBOARD PERMIT UNDER THE NAME ‘SIR ALEX,’ SUGGESTING MR. VASSEUR MAY HAVE BEEN OPERATING UNDER THIS ALIAS.”
A tense silence settled over the room as the broadcast played. Then, a voice cut through it.
“Wasn’t he one of the Pandora operation targets?” someone muttered.
Naura barely reacted. She knew what was coming.
“The one they should’ve secured but didn’t,” another voice added, thick with sarcasm.
“If only they’d been more careful… maybe Alex would be here instead of missing in action,” the same voice went on.
“Enough, Lawrence!” the first voice snapped. “They did their best. You weren’t there.”
“Oh, so now we’re defending incompetence?” Lawrence shot back. His arms crossed over his chest, gaze sharp. “Tell me, Yuna, was it unfortunate, or was it just reckless?”
Naura exhaled slowly, gaze fixed on the floor. “He’s right,” she admitted. “If we’d been more calculated, Accel wouldn’t have lost his arm.”
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Yuna started to protest, but Lawrence cut her off.
“No, Naura. Your mistake wasn’t just miscalculating, it was thinking that you and Accel were enough to pull off something as big as Pandora. If you’d accepted our offer for backup, things wouldn’t have turned out like this. Maybe, just maybe, Accel would still have both his arms.”
His words hung heavy in the air.
“And if you really believed in our principles, you’d know that no two people can bear the weight of Pandora alone.”
“Enough, Lawrence,” came a steady voice from across the room. Max. Older, calmer. “What’s done is done. At least they’re alive. And you, if I recall, have a job at the spaceport today.”
“Tch.” Lawrence clicked his tongue but pushed off the wall. As he turned to leave, he paused beside Naura. “Don’t pull that lone hero act again. You might be a super human, but you’re still human.”
With that, he walked out, Yuna trailing behind him.
Max waited until the door clicked shut. “Don’t take it to heart. Lawrence is just... bad at phrasing things.”
Naura gave a weak smile. “No, he has a point. And now, Sir Alex....Alexsir Vasseur is still out there. Meanwhile, Accel has lost his arm. I underestimated Mrs. Henrietta’s son.”
Max folded his arms, nodding. “At least we still have a chance to find him. The search team hasn’t recovered any bodies. No remains from the Soundwave-jet. That means he’s still alive.”
Naura’s head snapped up. “So the Pandora operation can still continue?”
“At least for Alex,” Max confirmed. “As for the other target... what was her name again? Spotlike?”
“Starlight,” Naura corrected.
“Right. Brighton’s daughter. What’s your read on her?”
Naura hesitated. “Her resonance is... unstable. This is the first time I’ve ever felt something like it from another human.”
Max’s eyes darkened slightly. So there are two keys, huh? He clenched his jaw. Damn you Brighton how many keys have you unraveled?
“If she’s unstable, we can’t make her a priority. Not yet,” he said aloud.
“I agree. We should focus on Alex,” Naura said. “Especially since he’s the son of Russle Vasseur and Mrs. Henrietta.”
Max exhaled. “A cross between two of the strongest genetic lines… That’s not someone we can afford to lose.”
Naura straightened. “When do we move?”
“In two months. By then, this region will shift into the night zone. Rosberg and Quinella will have finished deploying the network hubs in Indoterra.”
Naura blinked. “We’re involving Rosberg and Quinella too?”
Max nodded. “We need them. No matter what it takes, we must get Alex on our side. Only then can we truly save humanity.”
A brief silence settled between them. Then Max’s tone softened.
“How’s Accel?”
“He’s with Dr. Samantha. She’s installing a prosthetic to replace his arm.”
“Good. He’ll need it.” Max checked his watch. “I’ve got a meeting with the monitoring division. Get some rest, Naura.”
“Understood. Thank you, sir.”
When Max left, the room felt emptier than before. The others were off handling their duties. Meanwhile, Naura and Accel were temporarily on leave after the Pandora mission. Alone now, she let her thoughts drift.
Vasseur and Stellar… The most refined genetics. Super-intelligence. A perfect human.
Alexsir Vasseur.
Her fingers curled into fists.
She considered Mrs. Henrietta her own mother. The woman had cared for her, raised her. And yet, she had always spoken of her son whenever she had the chance. In the past, Naura had been jealous. But now... now she just wanted to meet him.
Since that night at the warehouse, when she had faced him, something had been different. That resonance… The only time she had felt something similar was in Henrietta’s presence.
That’s why I let my guard down.
Her lips parted slightly as a quiet realization sank in.
I want to see him again.
I want to talk to him. Longer. Just a little longer…
She closed her eyes, sinking deeper into her thoughts.
Medical Room of the Alexandrian Headquarters – 10:55
After arriving at headquarters, Naura wasted no time. She called the medical team, barely giving them a moment to prepare before insisting they take Accel in for immediate care. His condition was fragile after the emergency surgery she had performed, without anesthesia.
Now, after stabilizing him and tending to the wound, the doctors had advised at least two days of rest before moving forward with the synthetic nerve implantation. And today was the day.
Dr. Samantha stood beside the operating table, scanning Accel’s vitals. “How are you feeling?” she asked.
Accel let out a slow breath. “Not bad, considering.”
“Ready for surgery?”
He scoffed. “After going through an amputation without anesthesia? This’ll be a walk in the park.”
Dr. Samantha chuckled. “I’ll give you that. But you should be grateful, one wrong move during that procedure, and you’d be dealing with severe radiation infection right now.”
“You’re not wrong.” Accel leaned back slightly. “Naura’s too damn good, honestly. Feels like she memorized the entire medical manual cover to cover.”
Dr. Samantha’s smile faltered for a second, her fingers tightening around her clipboard. “Yes… PAGE’s effects are quite remarkable.”
“Hm?”
“Nothing,” she said quickly. “I was just agreeing, Naura has a remarkable memory.”
Accel didn’t press further. He was too used to people dodging around topics in this place.
“So,” Dr. Samantha changed the subject, “shall we begin?”
“Let’s do it.”
Synthetic nerve implant surgery is a delicate operation where motor nerves responsible for transmitting electrical pulses to the muscles, are carefully traced and connected to synthetic nerves. These synthetic nerves are linked to a connector socket embedded in the residual limb. The socket acts as an interface, allowing a prosthetic arm to attach and detach seamlessly, integrating with the body's existing neural pathways for natural movement.
Despite its complexity, the procedure followed a streamlined protocol and took just ten minutes to complete.
“Okay Accel, the operation is complete, how are you?” Dr. Samantha asked to confirm Accel’s condition.
Accel blinked, slightly disoriented.
“That’s it?” he asked.
Dr. Samantha grinned. “Expecting something more dramatic?”
“Honestly? Yeah.”
She let out a laugh. “Looks like Naura set your expectations way too high.”
“Seems like it.”
Dr. Samantha walked over to a nearby table, picking up a digital tablet. “Now that the nerve implant is in place, all that’s left is attaching your prosthetic arm once it’s ready. Plug and play.”
“No calibration needed?”
“It’s been pre-adjusted based on your genetic and neural data. If you need further tuning, you can do it yourself using the manual.”
Accel nodded. “Got it.” He swung his legs off the table and stretched. “Guess I’ll head to the living room. Thanks, doc.”
“Sure. And don’t forget to brush your teeth.”
Accel frowned, thrown off. “Huh?”
Dr. Samantha just waved him off with a knowing smirk.
Confused, he gave his breath a quick test as soon as he stepped into the hall. Nothing out of the ordinary. He sighed, deciding not to think too hard about it.
Naura sat on the sofa, eyes fixed on the television, but it was clear she wasn’t actually watching. Her fingers tapped absently against her knee, her expression distant....lost in thought.
Accel sighed as he approached. “She’s doing that weird thing again,” he muttered to himself.
Then, without warning....
“Are you tallying up your debts or taking a crap? The air around you feels heavy.”
Naura barely reacted. “Oh, Accel. How was the surgery?”
“Hmm-hm.” He raised his left arm, showing her the socket embedded in the stump.
She nodded, taking a moment to examine it. Then, as if just remembering, she added, “The Pandora operation is continuing in two months. It'll take place in Rosianna.”
“Got it.”
Without another word, Accel dropped onto the long sofa beside her, stretching out before shutting his eyes. The anesthesia still clung to his system, making sleep an easy option.
As silence settled between them, Naura’s gaze flickered back to the screen....but her mind was elsewhere.
And so, as Accel drifted off, Naura remained, lost in thought once more.
Commercial City of Klauz, Unoseis Union – Saturday, June 16
Manoir d'Armée D'élagage Artificiel (MADA) – 16:20
MADA stood tall in the heart of Klauz, a grand mansion that had served as the headquarters of ADA for decades. Though often mistaken for a militant group, ADA was, in reality, a political-social coalition....one that had evolved out of necessity.
One hundred and fifty years ago, their ideology had been cast aside by the world. The establishment of equal human rights for artificial humans had effectively dismantled their beliefs, relegating them to the fringes of society. Yet, over the past two decades, a resurgence had begun. Their numbers were growing, and their influence was beginning to seep back into the political landscape....culminating in the 19th Unoseis Union presidential election, where Roman Ohlson, their favored candidate, had won the first wave of votes.
The driving force behind this revival? Stevanus Ragna.
At the heavily guarded gates of MADA, a security officer approached a cargo truck.
“Please show me your travel documents,” the gatekeeper demanded.
The driver, a man with unkempt hair and an easygoing smirk, reached for his papers. “Here you go, sir. Delivery from the airport, this one’s for Mr. Ragna.”
The gatekeeper flipped through the documents, then held out his hand. “ID card.”
“Right, right.” The driver retrieved his ID from his pocket.
The officer inspected it closely. “Holtman Collin?”
“Yep. You can call me Holt.”
The gatekeeper studied him for a moment before nodding. “Alright, Holt. You’re clear to enter.”
“Appreciate it, sir. Hehehe.” Holtman chuckled.
With a sharp command, the gatekeeper signaled his colleague. “OPEN THE GATE!”
The massive iron gates groaned as they parted, granting Holtman passage into the estate.
Inside the Mansion – Reception Hall
Holtman whistled as he maneuvered the package through the lavish halls, finally stopping at the reception desk. A young woman sat there, flipping through a tablet.
“Excuse me, miss,” he said, leaning onto the counter. “Where should I drop this off?”
The receptionist barely glanced up. “Over there, sir.” She gestured toward a 15cm-high platform in the corner.
“Alrighty!” Holtman hauled the package over and set it down with a small grunt.
He then slid a clipboard across the desk. “Mind signing this? Need a stamp too.”
The receptionist took the document, signed it swiftly, and pressed the official ADA seal onto it.
“All set.”
“Much appreciated, miss!” Holtman grinned. “Guess I’ll be on my way.”
“Thank you for your service.”
With that, Holtman exited, leaving the package in its designated spot.
Director’s Room
"The world is full of surprises...
"But there is always a happy tomorrow...
"Like the colors of the rainbow...
"We will shine… We will shine...
"We will shine..."
The soft melody of an old song filled the dimly lit office. The voice, delicate and nostalgic, echoed from a vintage music player, a relic of a time long past.
Seated at his desk, Stevanus Ragna leaned back in his chair, absorbed in reviewing a stack of legal documents. Despite the state of his cluttered workspace, his movements remained meticulous, his mind focused.
A knock at the door broke his concentration.
“Sir Stevanus, your package has arrived,” a woman’s voice called from outside. “Would you like it opened here, or should I inspect it first?”
Looking up, Stevanus smiled. “Ah, Diana. Go ahead and open it first. My desk is already a disaster, I don’t need more clutter.”
“Yes, sir.”
Minutes later, Diana returned, carefully balancing a tray draped in crimson fabric.
“Here it is, sir.” She set the tray down with practiced precision.
Stevanus raised an eyebrow. “A tray? You do know you could’ve just carried it in a box, right?”
Diana adjusted her glasses. “This is a relic of the old world, sir. I wouldn’t dream of handling it so carelessly.”
“Hah! You give these things too much reverence.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “They’re just residues of the past. The only reason they’re valuable is because some people decided they should be.”
Diana didn’t respond to his musings. Instead, she got straight to the point. “What relic did you buy this time?”
Stevanus’ eyes gleamed as he pulled back the fabric, revealing a small, metallic chipset....its surface etched with intricate circuits.
“This…” he said, lifting it carefully, “is an ancient memory chipset. A remnant from the failed consciousness digitalization extraction trials of 2149 AD.”
Diana’s brow furrowed. “Failed? But if the consciousness was extracted, doesn’t that mean it was successful?”
Stevanus let out a dry laugh. “No, it failed. The consciousness was digitized, yes....but the human subject’s brain stem, thalamus, and medulla oblongata shut down completely. They were declared clinically dead afterward.”
Diana’s expression darkened. “…That’s horrifying.”
“That’s reality.” Stevanus placed the chipset down. “This is why artificial consciousness should never be forced into existence. These poor souls were ripped from their bodies, trapped in places they were never meant to be.”
A silence settled between them, broken only by the faint hum of the old song playing in the background.
If the old world was a magnet, then the new world was a mere fragment of iron....a residual entity, borrowing the echoes of its predecessor’s past.
But how long could it sustain itself?
End of Chapter IV
