One story. Different paths.
Mirella Ricardo Granato · English
Resume readingHikaru Chiba was seven cycles old when he found a French scientist’s waterlogged journal in a cave beneath a beach in Nagasaki. Deciphering it opened up a world of possibilities. A cycle later, his mother sold him to the Ryuho-kai clan. Among the spare parts and nanorobots in a reluctant mentor’s workshop, Hikaru found a place where he could keep building things.
Years later, now a nanoengineer, he wakes aboard a nanoboat bound for Trindade Island. Tanu, his cybernetic raccoon dog, is powered down. And the man who brought him aboard knows his name. Saymon wants Hikaru to break into a fortress’s systems and find out what its owners are hiding.
Hikaru knows what to do when he comes up against an uncrackable code. With Saymon, he starts to wonder if he even wants an answer.
Step into the first fragment
Foxes Dream of Cats?
Maybe the chaos is the way
Mirella Ricardo Granato
WEAVE, REWEAVE, COWEAVE AND RECOWEAVE WITH LOVE, TRUST, FREEDOM, CIRCULATION, HARMONY, EVOLUTION, GAIA AND CORCHESWEAVE
Reedsy
reedsy.com
For all who dream—and feel reality seeping in.
The dates in this work belong to the Lunisolar-Gaia Calendar: a rhythm that follows the equinox, real lunar cycles, variations of light and tide.
Within Fragmented Universes, time appears as an observable architecture: sky, seasons, cycles, and ONRSALTUKWMH.
The Gregorian anti-calendar disorganizes time through historical administrative decisions.
It establishes a fixed 7-day week by religious and state convention, months disconnected from real lunar cycles, solar adjustment concentrated in February, and an annual count designed for civil standardization.
It transforms time into a uniform grid.
The Gregorian anti-calendar imposes an abstract anti-rhythm, separated from the observable experience of the sky.
Rhythm becomes counting.
Rhythm becomes administrative units.
Rhythm becomes an external measure.
The Lunisolar-Gaia Calendar organizes time and rhythm according to what appears in the sky and in ONRSALTUKWMH:
silencing, elongating, rhythmizing, tuning, opening, weaving, uniting, releasing, flowing, structuring, irradiating.
It establishes:
The year is called a Solar Cycle, counted from Equinox to Equinox.
Reference conversion:
S- = Gregorian Year + 745
Example:
2134 → S-2879
Each solar cycle contains 12 lunations (macro-cycles):
Each lunation carries a dominant gestural archetype.
Absolute reference point:
February 2, 746 BCE (proleptic Julian calendar)
Total lunar eclipse observed in Babylon.
This event is historically recorded and astronomically reconstructible, serving as both historical and astronomical anchor.
Each lunation contains 30 lunar days (0–29) organized into 10 triads, defined by the percentage of lunar light.
0–2 → 0–5% → 0% → 5% (OOO) 3–5 → 5–15% (ONR) 6–8 → 15–30% (SAL) 9–11 → 30–50% (TUK) 12–14 → 50–85% (WMH) 15–17 → 85–100% → 85% (HMW) 18–20 → 85–60% (KUT) 21–23 → 60–40% (LAS) 24–26 → 40–15% (RNO) 27–29 → 15–5% → 0% (OOO)
Shorter ascent.
Longer descent.
Silence at the beginning and the end.
The real tide rhythm is respected.
OOO
0 Silensi
1 Silenabe
2 Silenli
ONR
3 Silensina
4 Alonabe
5 Ritli
SAL
6 Sintosi
7 Abeli
8 Lilibe
TUK
9 Tecesi
10 Unabe
11 Libeli
WMH
12 Fluxsi
13 Tramabe
14 Irrali
HMW
15 Irrasi
16 Tramili
17 Fluxli
KUT
18 Libesi
19 Unabe
20 Teceli
LAS
21 Ligasi
22 Abete
23 Sintoli
RNO
24 Ritsi
25 Alonli
26 Silenli
OOO
27 Silenri
28 Silente
29 Silenflu
The real solar cycle lasts ~365.2422 days.
The annual difference is ~5.2422 days.
For this reason there are solar axis days located near the Equinox portal.
Silena (ON)
Ritsi (RS)
Abeliga (AL)
Tecune (TU)
Libeflu (KW)
Tramirra (MH)
These days realign the solar cycle and exist outside the lunations.
The conversion of S- follows the fixed calculation.
The exact position of the lunation and lunar day (0–29) requires real lunar astronomical ephemerides:
Astronomical ephemerides
(e.g., timeanddate.com, Stellarium) were used to structure the dates in this work.
14/02/2026 (Saturday)
→ S-2770
→ Tramaluna
→ Day 27: Silenri
Short form:
27/10/2770 — Silenri of Tramaluna — S-2770
Standard format:
S-2770 • L10 Tramaluna • D27 Silenri
Format:
[Solar Cycle] • [LX] [Lunation Name] • [DX] [Lunar Day]
When a half-lunation appears, it functions as a phase seal.
Quarteluna = 6 days
A Gregorian date may appear in the book as a temporal anchor, helping the reader orient themselves.
All other dates follow the lunisolar time count.
S-2857 • L9 Fluxluna • D08 Lilibe
(Gregorian calendar equivalent: December 27, 2112)
“Fluxluna flows in a thread of living radiance. Lilibe spills luma in a gentle curve. The tide sings clear in the city air. The story weaves a path in a light current.”
NAGASAKI
Neon skyscrapers rose like sentinels over Nagasaki. Above them all stood Kūchū no Kyūden, the Floating Palace. In the city’s bustling center, Mizukagami, the Water Mirror, pulsed among the buildings. At the base, Kurayami no Sora, the Sky of Darkness, sank beneath the weight of the structures, while darkness seemed to crawl through its streets.
Holograms floated above narrow, ancient streets, forming a kaleidoscope of phosphorescent lights and colorspiral shadows. Polychrome glass and metal almost swallowed the temples and wooden houses, relics of a past suffocated by the scars of the corporate wars.
The technological races also swept through the illuminated slums. E-tags and vibrant graffiti pulsed among the debris and hacked screens.
The streets teemed with life.
Mercenaries, hackers, merchants, artists, residents, and tourists mingled in a crowd dressed in reinvented traditions. Kimonos adorned with circuits coexisted with nanite weaves, glowing implants, and pixels dancing across LED fabrics.
Aerocars glided along the airways. Drones watched over and entertained passersby, while adware appeared everywhere like digital swarms.
High above, Kūchū no Kyūden sheltered a rare kind of nature. Nanoplants and metatrees dominated the landscape, cold simulacra of a green that no longer existed.
Far below, concealed by the giants of glass and steel, Kaigan Beach stretched through Tairamachi.
The waters reflected the artificial lights of the ocean platforms. Climate-control towers dotted the horizon like dead stars. The sand formed a mosaic of metaparticles, remnants of industrial exploitation and experimental biotechnologies used to alter the environment. A ground of scars.
The waves shifted between radioactive emerald and shimmering neon blue, sliding over technological debris and digital pollution. Drone wreckage, android parts, and rusted robot gears accumulated along the beach.
Drops of water trickled through diffuse holograms. Food stalls dotted the shore like shadowy figures among withered palm trees. Lamps flickered beneath a purple, pixelated haze. The smell of burnt fried food mingled with the stench of marine waste, weighing on the lungs and clinging to the skin like a viscous miasma.
The salty breeze left a rusty tang on the tongue, a trace of acidic corrosion. Fishermen with weather-furrowed faces and calloused hands still tried their luck in those waters, ever more depleted of life. Their empty eyes reflected the struggle for a survival that always was beyond reach.
At dusk, the holograms faltered as they lit up. Music masked the apathy. The party went on. Laughter echoed through the air, some of it hollow, empty as soulless echoes. Coughs interrupted the flow of voices. The tides came and went, carrying the painful torments of pasts, presents, and futures.
Hikaru played among the damp rocks on the beach, hopping from one to another. As he planted his foot on a rock, the treacherous moss gave way beneath his weight.
He slipped. The impact came quickly. Cold water rose to his knees.
When he managed to get his bearings, he realized he had fallen into a cave. He rubbed his aching head. The scratches on his skin stung. He felt around the slippery rocks, searching for a handhold that would let him return to the surface.
He stumbled. His fingers found something submerged. A square brown object shimmered beneath the water. Hikaru picked it up and turned it over in his hands, feeling the weight of time in his discovery.
It was an old notebook. The bioleather cover was wet, and the yellowed pages were soaked.
To many people, it would have been nothing but trash, but Hikaru’s eyes and heart lit up at the little treasure.
He barely dared to handle it, afraid of tearing the fragile pages apart. He tucked the notebook beneath his clothes, trying to protect it from the moisture, and began climbing the cave walls. He planted his feet on a ledge. Pushed himself up until he reached another rock. Climbed a little higher. Then managed to return to the surface.
He ran home. The wet bioleather against his skin only heightened his excitement.
When he entered, he found the same scene as always. His mother was passed out on the couch. Hundreds of neoheroin syringes lay in piles on the table.
Hikaru went straight to his room. He placed the notebook where the air circulated best and began turning the pages, one by one. Carefully. His fingers slid delicately over the damp paper.
The work took hours, but he was rewarded in the end. The notebook was a diary.
The problem was that Hikaru could not understand a damn thing it said. Nothing made sense. Curved letters. Intricate symbols. Drawings that formed indecipherable patterns.
What language was it? He had found a hidden message, waiting to be deciphered. And he needed to discover its meaning.
His only access to the internet was through Mr. Saito’s computer, but at that hour, the old man was probably dozing.
Hikaru had asked countless times to use the terminal. Every time, he had been refused.
It hardly mattered. He needed to unravel that language. The symbols and drawings called to him. And he needed to answer.
He waited for nightfall.
His mother woke only to make dinner. Shortly afterward, she used neoheroin again and collapsed onto the bed in her room.
Hikaru slipped out and made his way through the streets to Aio Saito’s house.
The old man wore a permanently stern expression, as though his face had been carved from rock. His white hair was disheveled, and his small, deep-set, dull blue eyes always suspicious of something. He wore threadbare sweaters and loose trousers.
His house stood apart from the others. Dust covered the windows, and weeds devoured the garden. Around it, the other homes were withering too. Most stood empty, abandoned, like dim shadows of what they had once been.
The residents were leaving in search of more promising places.
Occasionally, a bark broke the silence. Leaves rustled. The wind seemed to whisper the laughter of children who no longer played there.
Saito’s computer was in a hidden room. Hikaru, however, knew a window that led inside. By coincidence, it was exactly the right size for him to fit through. He only needed to climb onto the neighbor’s roof, jump between the houses, and undo the latch.
His mind buzzed with possibilities. He did not think twice.
His feet knew where to land. Instinct guided him. A distant noise covered the sound of a step out of rhythm. The zephyr danced around him as he leaped between the rooftops. He landed like a stealthy cat.
His fingers found the window latch and opened it with familiarity. He was used to this by now.
Silence reigned inside the house. Hikaru needed to be even quieter than the stillness itself. He took one step at a time until he reached the computer.
Click
The holoscreen opened. Hikaru scanned the notebook. The Living Intelligence (LI) began its analysis.
Then it offered a hypothesis: “It appears to be a French scientist’s diary on quantum nanotechnology.”
French?
A grunt sounded very close by.
Hikaru froze. The next instant, he bolted out of there. He did not look back. All he could think about was moving forward.
That night, he barely slept. And when he finally fell asleep, he dreamed of stacks upon stacks of books.
Hikaru knew where he needed to go: Kigen Library, in Mizukagami. But how would he get there? He needed an adult. He needed his mother.
Chiyo Chiba was twenty-seven solar cycles old. Her long, deep-black hair fell untidily over her shoulders. Dark circles and premature wrinkles marked her delicate face. Her brown eyes remained dull, distant, as though trapped in an illusion from which she could not wake.
Her slender body left her bones prominent beneath dry, worn skin. She wore battered sweats and moved like a broken whisper, wavering between despair and brief flashes of control.
Hikaru waited for one of those moments. He approached her and lowered his eyes. “Okaasan… can you take me to Kigen Library?”
Chiyo narrowed her eyes.
Her son’s dark irises reminded her of his bastard father’s. A coward who had fled to Kurayami no Sora, perhaps in search of the thorny embrace of the Ninkyō dantai.
“What do you want at the library, Hika-chibi?” Her gentle voice enveloped the boy.
Hikaru recognized traces of a sweetness life had corrupted in that tone. “I want a French dictionary.”
Chiyo’s eyes widened. “Shh! Are you crazy? Don’t say that out loud. Mr. Saito’s been putting weird ideas in your head.”
Hikaru began gesturing energetically. “Mr. Saito has nothing to do with it!” His little hands found his mother’s long fingers and clasped them. “Please.”
Some forgotten string vibrated within Chiyo. For a moment, she remembered the months she had spent at university.
Before everything fell apart. Before Hikaru’s fucking father, whose name she preferred not to utter. Before she began pursuing chemistry in laboratories. Now, she injected it into her own body. Her interrupted future ran through her veins. She looked at her son. She did not want Hikaru to end up facing that abyss too.
Before surrendering to the next dose, she gathered the strength to dress herself and the boy as best she could.
How long had it been since she had gone downtown?
Mirai Yokocho stretched around Kigen Library. The neighborhood buzzed with nanoshops, art studios, markets, and exotic establishments lining the busy streets. Chaotic colors spread across the façades, mingling with electrifying sounds and luminous holograms.
Chiyo felt the sidelong looks cast her way. She was out of place. But whenever she looked at Hikaru, she found his face lit with enthusiasm. How could she ignore that?
They entered the library.
Dark wooden shelves, crammed with books, rose among floating holograms. Tablets and holoscreens projected information in a dance of brilliant lights. A soft hum accompanied the robots organizing the collection. Digital interfaces produced almost inaudible clicks.
In the reading area, people spoke in low voices. In the commercial spaces, some voices rose with enthusiasm. The smell of aged paper permeated the air. Cold metal tables stood among soft leather chairs, offering comfort to scholars. The aroma of coffee drifted from a discreet corner.
Chiyo surveyed the room. Now what? How would she ask for it?
Hikaru let go of her hand and began darting excitedly among the shelves and machines. “Okaasan, look at those droids!”
Chiyo led him to an empty corner and crouched in front of him. “Hika-chiba, settle down. We’ll get what you’re looking for. I think it’s this way…”
She knew perfectly well that such material was unlikely to be available in a collection open to researchers. Much less to the public. She found the international area and began discreetly watching the robot guarding the restricted section.
She needed to distract it. But how?
Hikaru examined the books around him. Picked one up, leafed through a few pages, and put it back, his eyes shining with wonder.
Then Chiyo had an idea. “Chiba-chiba, did you see those robot bugs on the other side? I heard you’re allowed to catch them, y’know?”
Hikaru did not even blink. He darted into the other aisle.
A little later, the plan worked. Kōsetsu, the guard robot, left to investigate the commotion.
Chiyo seized the opportunity and entered the restricted area. She took a deep breath. Her heart was beating fast. She accessed the internal catalog and searched for terms related to the French language.
She found a result. Shelf 76-RT.
She looked around. Endless aisles stretched in both directions.
Chikushō.
She took a step. The door opened. Kōsetsu appeared. Hikaru struggled in his metal claws.
“Let him go!” Chiyo’s demand echoed down the aisle.
The metallic voice replied, “Are you responsible for the child?”
“You noticed, did you? Let him go now!” Chiyo raised her arms to take her son.
As soon as he was released, Hikaru clung to her, tears in his eyes.
The blue lights of Kōsetsu’s eyes shone as he assessed the situation. “You should not be in here.”
Chiyo’s face grew hot. “I need to find something for him.”
“You must leave.” Kōsetsu leaned his angular body over her.
“I just want a dictionary.” Hikaru lifted his tearful face toward his mother.
The robot was puzzled. He had never encountered a situation like this. He needed to adapt his response. But how? “Which dictionary?”
“French.”
Kōsetsu consulted his database. He found imprecise information on the subject. Even so, he judged that it should be safe. Part of his function was to establish connections with humans. Perhaps he could do that now. “Did you search the catalog?”
“It’s in section 76-RT.”
“Follow me.” Kōsetsu began guiding them through the library’s endless passages.
Chiyo could barely believe her luck. She followed him in silence, afraid that even a breath out of rhythm might alter that technology’s algorithms. What if the robot reconsidered? What if they were thrown out?
Kōsetsu stopped before a section and checked the records. “76-RT.”
Chiyo hurried to search. The smell of rotting, moldy paper filled the air. Decaying books crowded the shelves. Something there had to do. She covered her nose and began rummaging through the volumes.
Hikaru kept asking whether she had found the dictionary yet.
“Shh, Hika-chan.” Two books remained. Chiyo reached into the dust and mold. Fragile pages brushed her fingers. The tension burned her skin.
Then she felt the weight of a bound volume sliding beneath the other books. She pulled it out. A title was stamped on the cover. French. A dictionary.
“Found it!” Chiyo froze for half a second. Was she really going to hug a guard robot? Before she had even finished the thought, she had already thrown herself at Kōsetsu, wrapping him in a warm embrace. She laughed. “Thanks, Tsu!”
The next instant, she shot out of there like a rocket. Hikaru matched his mother’s rush, laughing too.
The hug caused a glitch in Kōsetsu that lasted several seconds. When he finally processed what had happened, he alerted security.
Too late.
Outside, the wind tousled Chiyo’s hair. For a moment, it carried away some of the weight she bore. Her chest expanded with a refreshing joy. Light reached the dimmed corners of her face. Her heart raced. Adrenaline. Dopamine. And then, laughter. Chiyo and Hikaru laughed out loud.
They skipped through the streets all the way back to the shack in Kaigan.
Her happiness was so great that, that night, Chiyo did not even use neoheroin. She sat with her son and helped him decipher a few words from the diary. Then she told him stories to help him fall asleep. And fell asleep beside him.
Serene sleep.
Sweet dreams beneath the waning moonlight.
S-2858 • L3 Sintoluna • D27 Silenri
“Sintoluna tunes the thread of the world. Silenri seals the descent in a fine shimmer. The tide traces silence in a living curve. The story prepares a portal of beginning.”
KURAYAMI NO SORA — HEADQUARTERS OF THE RYUHO-KAI CLAN, KARYŪ, CURRENT OF FIRE
Chiyo woke Hikaru with a hearty breakfast. She gave him a plastic dinosaur and dressed him in light clothes suited to the heat punishing Nagasaki. The temperature reached fifty degrees, melting the asphalt and making the air almost unbreathable.
Then she drove her son to Karyū. Along the way, she chatted animatedly with him.
Gradually, the landscape sank into shadow.
Towers of steel and crystal rose like sleeping serpents. Each building sculpted in draconic symbols, while the pixelated image of a dragon snaked across the façades and flashed among the robotic guardians patrolling the alleys.
The main avenues flaunted opulent storefronts filled with cyberimplants, cutting-edge technologies, and high-value goods.
But the adjoining alleys concealed another world. Trafficking. Addiction. Betting houses. Arms markets. Deals whispered beneath the unsteady glow of holograms. As they advanced, Chiyo averted her eyes.
Funny how everything gleamed on the outside. Gold dust over ruins. Beneath illusory veils, the gleaming façades concealed the shadows gathering in the alleys. The bitter smell permeating the air seeped through tiny cracks in that appearance of prosperity.
It was like her. A shell trying to shine. While emptiness ate away at her from within.
Chiyo forced a smile and kept talking to Hikaru. She wanted to protect him from the abyss in which she herself had already drowned.
The Ryuho-kai clan’s headquarters dominated Karyū’s skyline.
Ryūden, the Dragon Palace. A tower of steel and mirrored black glass, its surface reflecting the darkness of the streets below. Nanodragons watched over the building.
Inside, obsidian marble floors gleamed beneath the low lighting, streaked with shimmering red veins. Holograms projected circles of fire among the structures.
On the upper floors, surrounded by maximum-security systems, Kojiro Ryuho oversaw his empire.
From there, he surveyed the reach of his authority over Karyū, Kurayami no Sora, and the Ninkyō dantai. Kojiro radiated an intimidating strength. His imposing figure dominated the room. He wore a dark hakama and a wide-sleeved jinbei, with traditional symbols etched into the flowing fabric. His appraising eyes cut through people like blades.
Near him stood his nephew, Kotaro Ryuho. Four years old. Black hair and brown eyes. Curiosity, audacity, and resolve marked his expression. He wore a cotton kimono adorned with scale patterns and watched everything from the altar.
“He can read and write. He’s very smart. It’s his eighth birthday today.” Chiyo trembled. Her fingers moved restlessly.
The oyabun’s cold gaze settled on her. “Three million nienes.”
“But…”
“Or no deal.” Kojiro’s voice allowed no negotiation.
Chiyo pressed her lips together. “Fine, whatever. Just transfer it.”
The oyabun gestured.
Hiroshi Tanaka, his saiko-komon, began the transaction. He wore a dark suit and held himself with perfect control. His trimmed beard and shrewd eyes completed his meticulous appearance.
“What are you doing, okaasan?” Hikaru’s small voice reached her.
Chiyo’s chest tightened.
The boy stared at her, confused.
She looked away. She could not hold his gaze. She thought she was not enough as a mother.
Hikaru needed another path. Perhaps those men could offer something she could not. Perhaps he would survive better without her. Better than Chiyo herself had survived.
The knot in her throat tightened until it almost choked her. Her heart was breaking apart, but her voice came out cold. Cruel. “You deserve more, Hika-chiba. More than I can give you. Your new friends will take care of you.”
Silence opened between them.
Hikaru felt his heart race. His breathing quickened. His skin paled. His muscles contracted. His palms grew damp. His stomach churned. Waves of cold and heat swept through his body as his mind tried to comprehend what was happening. “What do you mean, okaasan? I don’t want to. I just want to stay with you.”
“Shh, Hika-chiba. One day you’ll understand.” Chiyo turned away.
Past and present collided inside her, bringing fleeting images. Hikaru playing with a makeshift robot. His laughter filling the shack with light. The first time he had called her okaasan in that little high-pitched voice. Each memory was a knife twisting inside her chest.
But she would keep walking. She had to. Tears burned her eyes. Her heart ached. Her steps, however, remained steady.
Chiyo left. Left Hikaru’s desperate screams behind.
The boy struggled in the men’s arms, devastated, trying to break free.
All that remained of his mother was the scent clinging to his clothes.
Cheap shampoo. Neoheroin.
It was the last thing he could still hold on to of her.
He wanted to scream that he would not understand. That he would never understand. But the pain choked his words.
Three days later, Chiyo died of an overdose.
That seluna, Hikaru stayed awake.
He spent the night with the shatei, the organization’s younger brothers.
Chiyo’s scent still clung to his clothes.
But profane patriarchal hands touched his body inappropriately, violating his boundaries, staining his skin, distorting his mind, and corrupting his soul.
S-2858 • L4 Abeluna • D04 Alonabe
“Abeluna spills a bud of radiance on high. Alonabe lengthens the thread of the beginning. The tide traces a path in living silver. The story carries on, clear and light of step.”
That place drew Hikaru like a magnet. Its owner was a mystery. Masaru Inoue, a fifty-four-year-old kobun who rarely showed his face.
Karyū whispered secrets through its shadowy alleys, and Hikaru had passed that workshop countless times. In the brief moments when the door opened to admit a customer, the light inside cast dancing patterns across the ground. Metals. Nanorobots.
He had to get in. His heart beat in that direction. He knew that, at some point that night, a customer would come to speak to Inoue. He only needed to seize the opportunity.
He put on his darkest clothes, wrapping his body in a veil of night. Took a deep breath.
He would summon silence. He would be silence.
He would summon darkness. He would be darkness.
When a man approached the establishment, Hikaru hid beneath his long cloak and slipped inside unnoticed. As soon as he managed to move away, he crept toward a pile of junk. What he found made his eyes shine.
Polished nanometal reflected pulsing holograms of circuits. Complex formulas danced in the air among droids and robots of various shapes. Some were sleek. Others, sturdy. Each seemed designed for a specific purpose: maintenance, analysis, strategy.
Robotic parts lay scattered across the benches. Gears gleamed among advanced components, arranged in a chaos that somehow seemed organized.
At the center of the workshop, a large android’s eyes kept blinking. The faint smell of motor oil permeated the room. There was electricity in the air.
Workbenches were covered with tools. In another room, gleaming katanas shared space with samurai armor adorned with intricate details. Each blade held its own story.
It was a true playground for Hikaru.
He took a few careful steps between the benches. Then he found a box. Inside was a robotic raccoon dog. Its grayish-blue casing gleamed faintly beneath the lighting, but its little lights remained dark. It was switched off. Hikaru watched it. Waited.
Farther away, Inoue was finishing up with the customer.
The door closed.
Hikaru breathed deeply. His heart pounded. His hands sweated. Even so, he planted his feet on the floor and stepped before the man. “Why’s that raccoon dog switched off?”
Inoue’s brown eyes widened. “Chikushō! Who are you?! Get out! Go, go!” He grabbed the boy’s scrawny arms and began dragging him toward the door.
“I’m Hikaru. I want to stay here. Please.”
“Are you crazy, gaki? Get out. I don’t want any trouble.” Inoue opened the door, ready to put him out on the street.
But Hikaru dug his feet in. “Please, no! I want to make robots! I know QN-Tec!”
Inoue’s hand hesitated. The man closed the door. Released the boy. “Baka, keep quiet. Are you an usotsuki? A liar?”
Hikaru hurried to pull out the diary he had found in the cave. He opened it to one of the pages and began reading. “Les quantum-nanoparticules possèdent des clés. Des algorithmes atomiques. Instables. Pouvant être stabilisées par des algorithmes programmés. Dans des quantum-nanites.” His voice was firm. His eyes burned with enthusiasm. Then he explained: “Quantum nanoparticles have keys. Atomic algorithms. Unstable. They can be stabilized by algorithms programmed into quantum nanites.”
All the color drained from Inoue’s face. Something trembled silently within him. “Kuso… what the fuck. How did you get this?”
Hikaru clutched the diary in his hands. “Please, I’ll be quiet. I just never want to be touched like that again.” His voice came out in a pleading whisper.
And rekindled a pain Inoue had buried in his own chest. A flood of memories swept through his soul. Disgust. Contempt. Bitterness flooded his mouth. Those unwanted touches. The fury. The need to survive. The obsession with technology.
He understood. Within Inoue, conflict and certainty intertwined, dancing tragically between fear and the desire to do something.
The man let out a slow breath. “That one’s Tanu. A defective robot.” He turned and began climbing the wooden stairs. Damn it. What had he gotten himself into?
Hikaru’s eyes lit up. “Can I work on him?”
Inoue pretended not to notice the faint warmth beginning to pulse in his heart. “Don’t even waste your time. That one’s nothing but defects. All he does is swear, he takes forever to do anything, and his weapons are outdated. He was one of my first.” He kept climbing. “Gaki, go sleep on that mattress. It’s the only one.”
Hikaru followed the man to a corner filled with forgotten parts.
Old hardware lay piled up, dusty motherboards and tangled wires scattered across the floor like sleeping snakes. Among the objects lay a battered mattress covered with a faded sheet. A makeshift lantern cast flickering light over the small space, revealing the outlines of abandoned machines. Reliquaries of memories from bygone eras. Oxidized metal. Dust suspended in the air.
A palace for Hikaru.
He approached the mattress and straightened the old sheet, feeling its rough folds beneath his fingers. That corner would now be his refuge. He looked around. Each object held a silent story. Every forgotten gear. Every component. Every part someone had left behind. And Hikaru was dying to hear them all. This was much more than a storeroom full of junk. To him, it was a map of the future he wanted to build.
“Please, will you let me work on him, Inoue-sensei?”
Sensei? Inoue stopped. He had never imagined he would have a kohai. He rolled his eyes, savoring the sourness of that possibility. Then he narrowed his eyes and studied Hikaru, as though trying to decipher a riddle.
His hardened expression wavered. For an almost imperceptible moment, something shone in his eyes. A memory reached him. Small hands. Smeared with grease. Broken parts. A hope that had long since drained out of him. It was as though he were facing a younger version of himself. Someone the world had already knocked down countless times.
Perhaps… just perhaps… That boy still carried something he himself had become disconnected from.
The flame of hope.
Inoue folded his arms and kept his eyes fixed on Hikaru. He breathed deeply, as though trying to dispel an uncomfortable feeling.
“Whatever, Hika-baka. But if you try to fix that thing and fail, go whine in your corner.” He huffed.
He tried to hide the faint smile beginning to form, but his mask of indifference was already chipped.
There was a veiled challenge in his expression. “And keep away from the other coweavings, gaki.”
S-2876 • L3 Sintoluna • D18 Libesi
“Sintoluna tunes sky and path. Libesi releases the ripened thread. The tide traces a silver curve. The story carries steadily on, in a living rhythm.”
Kurokawa stretched along the edges of Kurayami no Sora like a labyrinth of narrow streets, bound in a shadowy embrace.
Worn buildings bore faded paint, and old signs whispered forgotten stories. An electric tension ran along the sidewalks, fed by the façades of bars and brothels, where lime-green, magenta, and amber neon flickered to lure passersby.
Gaiawave music pulsed between the buildings. Heavy rock roared through open doors, while alternative pop drifted from more discreet establishments. Smoke, alcohol, and street food permeated the air.
Inoue had sent Hikaru away. He wanted some time alone.
The nanoengineer had brought Tanu along, though the robot had not stopped complaining since they left.
“That old man, too… always wants his precious solitude. Screw him. Another idiot.”
Hikaru raised his eyes to the sky. The Moon illuminated an icy void that night. Cold as Chiyo’s gaze when she had left him behind.
Why had he thought of her just now? Had his mother thought of him before…? He cut the thought short. He would rather not discover the answer.
He entered an alley.
Eight gokudos were waiting for him.
No. There were more. Many more. Hundreds were stationed throughout the surrounding buildings.
“We’re finally gonna get you, osuinu.” One of the men snickered, displaying rotten teeth.
“Idiot! What have you gotten us into?” Tanu’s eyes glowed red. The robot advanced. His frame began to reconfigure. His paws expanded, revealing laser cannons. Reinforced armor rose around his torso as nanoplates aligned to protect him.
Sunglasses slid over his sensors and projected a digital reticle. Combat drones emerged from his back. Gears turned. Lights pulsed. Within moments, the little raccoon dog had transformed into a war machine.
“BAKA, BAKA, BAKA! IDIOT MASTER! WHAT HAVE YOU GOTTEN US INTO?! HE’S AN IDIOT, BUT HE’S MY MASTER! STAY AWAY FROM THE MASTER!” An electromagnetic blast cut through the air.
It struck his core directly.
Tanu stopped.
His lights flickered frantically before going dark. His metal body collapsed, retracting its combat structures until it returned to its original raccoon dog form.
“We came prepared for that robot of yours, sucker.” The man grinned. “Can’t wait to try you out.”
Hikaru drew his katana. But a dart lodged in his neck.
Darkness swallowed him.
When he became aware of his body again, a wave of heat was sweeping across his skin. Any contact set it ablaze. The slightest touch sent shivers through him.
His senses were uncontrollably heightened. Smells became intoxicating, colors vibrated with unbearable intensity, and sounds resonated as though passing directly through his nerves.
His heart raced. A primal shift was taking place inside his chest. Desires he did not recognize invaded his thoughts. Euphoria. Vulnerability. Imposed sensations, impossible to push away.
Everything exposed.
Hikaru’s body felt intensely awake, though he did not understand what was happening. Chikushō. He opened his eyes slowly. He was in a room illuminated by languid lights.
Familiar laughter filled his ears.
The bastards.
He tried to pull away. Could not. His arms and legs were bound.
His kimono had been loosened to the waist, leaving his skin and tattoos exposed. On his back, an imposing dragon spread its dark scales, its piercing eyes turned toward whoever beheld it. Stylized cats, cherry blossoms, and waves ran along his spine. A feline curled around his heart. Draconic patterns branched across his chest and forearms.
“We’re only getting started, pretty face…” A cloying whisper brushed his ear.
Hikaru felt disgust. But his body responded to the stimuli in a way that went entirely against his will. What had they done to him? Why would his senses not obey him?
“Kore nan da kuso?! DA KORE KUSO?!” What the fuck was that? What the hell was happening? A shout came from somewhere in the room. “WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?! FUCK, WHAT IS THIS?!”
The commotion brought glimpses of blood scattered across the floor. One of the men was hurled through the window.
The man over Hikaru turned. “What are you doing, Riko?”
An android with a silver finish lunged at him. There was no time to defend himself. The impact threw him backward. Glass shattered. Both disappeared through the window.
Hikaru’s eyes widened even further.
An intense presence enveloped the room. A man entered. He wore a long black coat and kept his face hidden beneath a hood. He inhaled deeply. Closed the door calmly. His footsteps crossed slowly through the pool of blood on the floor. Then he clicked his tongue.
The sound traveled through Hikaru’s ears as he followed every movement, unable to break free.
The stranger approached the chair. Placed his hands on its armrests and leaned over the nanoengineer.
His citrus scent reached Hikaru. Surprisingly pleasant. Very different from those men’s nauseating odors.
Without asking permission, the hooded man ran his tongue along Hikaru’s neck. He tasted something like dark chocolate.
“They gave you Erosen. I heard it lasts ten hours.” His voice was husky, enveloping, resonant.
Hikaru shuddered involuntarily. A sigh escaped him. Damn it. He did not want to react that way.
Rough fingers touched his face. The cold metal of rings pressed against his skin as the stranger lifted his chin to study him. Two amber eyes gleamed beneath the hood. His smile hinted at a dangerous promise. There was deliberate provocation in that gaze. And curiosity too.
For the first time, the man was looking beyond the nanoengineer’s appearance. As though trying to reach something in his soul.
Who was Hikaru, after all? What lay behind that resistance? But at that moment, what he found was fear. A fear that did not interest him as much as the other sensations induced by the substance.
Even so, he did not immediately move away. Hikaru’s involuntary reaction fascinated him. The nanoengineer gave off a scent of bamboo and metal, intensified by the heat coursing through his body. The stranger had never noticed anything like it.
He dragged over a chair and placed it before him. Sat down. Then lowered his hood.
Wavy strands fell over his forehead. His hair was divided into two colors: half dark brown, half white. The same combination appeared in his eyebrows and eyelashes. His skin was bronze.
He rested his elbow on the chair’s armrest and settled with his legs apart. Brushed his fingers over his own lips, grinning. His golden eyes remained fixed on Hikaru. Laden with provocation.
Kuso. Who was this guy? Hikaru tried to understand why the man’s mere presence sent electric shocks through him.
The Erosen was still working. His body reacted without permission while he remained bound to the chair. Waves of unwanted sensations rose again and again, mingling physical pleasure, revulsion, and fear. Perspiration warmed his skin. His breathing remained ragged.
The hours dragged on.
The stranger remained before him, watching with an interest Hikaru could not understand. Hikaru resisted the substance’s effects. Tried to regain some control over his body. He wanted to sleep. But could not.
The man’s presence unsettled him. Challenged him without a word.
The sensations induced by Erosen confused him, making the physical attraction imposed by the drug mingle with fear and the desire to pull away.
It was disturbing. Frightening.
And despite all his resistance, that figure kept drawing him in.
Eleven hours later, the nanoengineer finally collapsed.
Exhausted.
Hikaru woke surrounded by solid blue walls, illuminated by soft purple neon spilling from beneath wooden panels. He was lying on a dark silk mattress. His heart raced. He sat up immediately. He was dressed. Free of his bonds. He looked around, trying to understand where he had been taken.
He crossed the room and entered another space. Transparent walls shifted their opacity, revealing supply storage compartments, a foldaway bed, and holoconsoles for navigation and entertainment.
He kept walking until he reached almost absolute darkness. Only the lights at the bow broke through the black.
He was aboard a small nanoboat. Its nanohull had a nanoaerodynamic structure built using quantumnano-technology, with integrated solar nanopanels. Its propulsion was so quiet that silence itself resonated like the silence of abyssal depths.
The vessel cut through the unpredictable waters of the Pacific like a shadow.
Kuso.
The mysterious figure was leaning against the railing. The man slipped the cards he was holding into his pocket.
Who was this guy, anyway? Hikaru was still trying to understand.
The stranger turned toward the nanoengineer. Finally awake. His eyes smiled, but something in his soul remained silent. An unusual strangeness lingered within him. It came from that presence. From the enigmatic Seven of Cups he had drawn while thinking of Hikaru.
“So Hika-chan decided to wake up?”
Hikaru stiffened. He knew his name. How had he gotten into this disturbing situation? Those bastards… the drug. That man. What the hell was happening?
“Who are you?”
The stranger’s grin widened. The fear and vulnerability that had stirred so much interest in him had vanished from the nanoengineer’s expression.
Now, before him, stood a wildcat. Feline features grew more pronounced in that tenacious face. For the first time, the man felt a strange pulse in his own heart. It hardly mattered. How much fun would it be to play with that cat?
“Saymon.”
Saymon? What did he want?
Hikaru moved closer. Why did something seethe inside him in the presence of that being? His perception put him on alert in a way he had never experienced, not even among the members of the Ninkyō dantai. Saymon’s aura exuded terror. Cruel greed. Something beyond fear. If only that were all…
But there was another sensation. Something that burned differently. Something Hikaru preferred to leave unnamed. The effects of Erosen had already worn off. And even so, he felt a… vibrating within him.
No. Madness. Unthinkable.
“Where are you taking me?” Something told him that confronting the man physically would be useless.
Saymon stepped closer. Close enough to almost steal his breath. Hikaru held that golden gaze and stood his ground.
“Trindade Island.” The answer came in that husky voice, sending a warm shiver down his spine.
Hikaru stepped away. His shoulders sagged. A new weight pressed against his chest.
Tanu… Guilt bit into his thoughts.
“Worried about your friend?” Saymon’s cutting tone made him turn.
Leaning against the wall was Tanu. Deactivated. But still there.
A gentle warmth of relief spread through Hikaru’s chest. Even so, something still weighed inside him.
“Gonna switch him on?”
Hikaru nodded and leaned against the railing. “Forget it.”
Perhaps it was better this way.
S-2876 • L3 Sintoluna
“Four days, one sky in living sintonira. Teceli steadies the step; Abete opens gentle space. Alonli lengthens the curve; Silenri seals the fine thread. Sintoluna guides the tide—and the story carries on in perfect pitch.”
D20 Teceli
The waters were calm. The forecast, however, warned of storms on the horizon.
Saymon studied the nautical charts while Hikaru adjusted the nanoengines.
The boat crossed the ocean beneath a sky that had yet to reveal the intensity of the winds ahead.
D22 Abete
A tropical storm disrupted their planned route. Immense waves rose around the vessel. Cutting winds battered its structure, testing its resilience. They both used nanostabilizers to prevent damage.
Hikaru remained calm. He took charge of navigation, precisely correcting their course as the waters shifted.
Saymon tended to the supplies.
They exchanged few words. The storm demanded attention. And the silence between them seemed as charged as the sky.
D25 Alonli
After the storm, conditions improved. Even so, navigation remained challenging. Hidden reefs threatened their passage.
Saymon watched the water with keen eyes, identifying dangerous areas before they got too close.
Hikaru connected the nanosonar to map the seabed and avoid collisions.
Together, they kept the nanoboat moving.
That night, Hikaru dreamed. A golden-eyed fox circled him. Sniffed his fear. Savored his unease.
Hikaru woke agitated in the middle of the night. He left the room and walked to the bow.
Saymon was watching the horizon. “Nightmare, Hika-chan?” Wind and droplets of water brushed his untamed expression.
“Insomnia?” Hikaru asked. The heavy sulfurous smell of the polluted sea reached his lungs, and he had to suppress a cough.
Saymon closed the distance between them. His overwhelming aura filled the space around the nanoengineer. He raised a hand and stroked his cheeks with his fingertips. “How can I sleep near such a fun target?” A crooked smile formed on his lips.
Hikaru turned his back on him and returned to the room. Saymon watched him walk away.
The nanoengineer clenched his fists. His heart beat fast, wildly. Why the hell did it insist on racing like that? Chikushō.
D27 Silenri
They spotted another vessel.
Saymon approached Hikaru and touched his back. “That vessel looks suspicious. Let’s steer clear,” he whispered near his ear.
Hikaru ignored the shivers running across his skin. His heated face. His hair standing on end. He focused on the controls and activated the nanocamouflage.
Saymon watched him at his own pace. He shuffled the cards in a Rain of Chaos, a foxlike smile in his eyes. Each movement of his hands seemed like a brushstroke in the wind. The deck opened like a bursting cloud. The cards fell in a dry rain, chiming in the air like paper blades. Before they touched the floor, Saymon’s fingers caught them in a fan, as though gravity were merely another puppet of his chaos.
And so they kept sailing through the restless waters. Crossing invisible frequencies that tested them.
At times they expanded. At times they merged.
A dissonant harmony.
S-2876 • L3 Sintoluna • D28 Silente
“Sintoluna tunes the sky’s final thread. Silente spills luminous stillness. The tide gathers silver in a gentle curve. The narrative feels the portal opening.”
They reached Trindade Island in the dead of night. The sea was rough, and mist crept across the island, enveloping it like a specter. They anchored the nanoboat in a cove and concealed it among the rocks. Then they activated the nanocamouflage, making the vessel invisible to nanoradar. The boat merged with the darkness.
Saymon carried a backpack. Hikaru carried Tanu. Both wore nanosuits composed of q-nanites, quantumnano-technological fabrics shaped by Regnante Maia’s ingenuity.
They descended a retractable ramp. Their feet sank between the wet stones. They advanced over the uneven terrain, avoiding treacherous rocks and low vegetation. Nanocameras hid among the branches. Silhouettes lurked on the cliffs.
Hikaru stopped for a moment and activated Tanu.
The raccoon dog blinked his lights, stretching his little metal body. “Idiot! Took you days to switch me on.” His robotic voice came out high-pitched and grouchy.
Tanu shook himself, adjusted his sweater, and raised his snout. His eyes gleamed when they found Saymon. He scanned him from head to toe. Wrinkled his snout. “Who’s this sucker?”
“Quiet, Tanu. We’re gonna infiltrate that mansion.” Hikaru’s voice came out serene.
Subtle waves chimed in the air. And inside Saymon. The mercenary turned his attention to the robot.
Tanu folded his little mechanical arms. “Imbecile won’t even say hi.” His ears twitched. “I’ll kill you both when I’m done.”
They kept advancing. Drones patrolled the sky.
Tanu projected a camouflaging nanoshield over the group, making all three disappear into the landscape.
The terrain grew steeper. The forest, denser. Old trenches appeared among the vegetation, now overrun with mud, remnants of a military past that still lingered. The tunnels had been reactivated. Guard posts protected the entrances. Guards patrolled the surroundings, aided by thermal sensors.
They heard footsteps. Voices approached. All three crouched and began crawling. Cold mud clung to Hikaru’s nanosuit.
“Ever wanted to crawl through mud? No,” Tanu grumbled as he deactivated sensors along the way. “My master? Filthy.”
The mansion stood at the island’s highest point. Imposing. Displaced in time. It seemed like a relic of the Italian Renaissance, with white marble columns, arched windows, and ornate sculptures. Security towers emerged discreetly among the architectural elements.
Tanu connected to the gates. Hacked their nanosystems. Released the codes needed for temporary passage.
With their nanosuits and the raccoon dog’s protection, they crossed the security barriers. Nanobarriers. Thermal detectors. Motion sensors. Nanoalarms. The entire fortress was linked to the central Living Intelligence. No system detected them.
Inside, dark marble floors reflected floating lights. Leather armchairs adorned the luxurious hall, while minimalist works lined the walls. Holopaintings pulsed on display.
Saymon followed a discreet corridor. Red carpets covered the floor. Crystal chandeliers gleamed above them.
They reached a library. The smell of old leather and polished wood filled the room.
Saymon approached a bookcase and pulled out one of the books. The structure rotated, revealing a hidden passage.
A narrow staircase descended through the opening, illuminated by tiny lights embedded in the steps. At the bottom stood an apparently simple door. Except for its sophisticated padlock.
Saymon drew the Seven of Wands. The card’s pixels merged with the lock’s codes.
Shhhhhhh
The mechanism groaned. The door opened.
Darkness.
The hidden room was enclosed by reflective glass, across which holoinformation was projected. Illegal transactions. Espionage networks. Complex financial schemes.
A large table occupied the center of the room, surrounded by devices connected to the island’s central server.
Saymon broke the silence. “Get all the data you can.” Then he opened his backpack and took out several cans of black spray paint.
Hikaru frowned. What was this guy doing?
Saymon began moving as though in a trance. Every smear of paint was a calculated strike.
Intrigued, Hikaru connected Tanu to the power sources and plunged into the virtual systems.
Hours passed.
He found information on Lúcio Reis. International Relations at UNITED in São Paulo. A top-tier big shot. But there was more. Much more. Hikaru kept digging through the data, uncovering information far beyond anything he had expected to find.
What did Saymon intend to do with all of it? Who knew?
His body was beginning to protest. His muscles were tense. His bones ached. His brain seethed and melted under the prolonged strain.
But there was something beyond exhaustion. An oppressive sensation. Greater than fatigue. As though the air around him were deforming along with his thoughts.
Hikaru turned. And reality dissolved.
Unease. Agony. Awe. Passion. Anguish. Anger. Hatred. Fury. Vengeance.
The room was sealed in black. Paint dripped from the walls, ran down the shelves, and swallowed the space.
Erratic, aggressive strokes intertwined in chaotic patterns. Grotesque figures emerged from the smears. Distorted faces. Warped eyes. Macabre creatures. Outstretched claws. Whirling spirals. The world spun.
Beneath the faint lights, the paintings cast living shadows. A hateful torment. But it was not just the walls.
It was Saymon.
Hikaru felt something of that being spread throughout the room.
Each stroke seemed like a scar. A confession. An open wound. Raw. Bleeding. The walls spoke. The painting screamed with a disturbing resonance. The black vibrated at a chaotic frequency inside his mind.
The erratic lines danced with Saymon’s aura, as though the paint had found a way to externalize something the mercenary kept hidden.
Hikaru could not decide whether he wanted to keep looking or flee. He felt drawn and repelled at once. He swallowed hard.
They left in silence. Saymon. Hikaru. Tanu. Night enveloped them again. They moved stealthily among the trees, crossing the terrain toward the cove.
But the painting was still there. The distorted faces. The shadows. The black spirals. Hikaru still carried that room inside him. Still pulsing.
They reached the boat.
The nanoengineer cast a lingering look at the island. Waves struck the hull while the dark strokes vibrated behind his eyelids. He wanted to ask. But he did not know whether he wanted to hear the answer.
“Idiot, what are you doing…” Tanu began to grumble. The robotic voice vanished.
Hikaru turned.
Saymon stood before him. Face-to-face. So close that his warm breath brushed the nanoengineer’s skin. “Good kitty. Time to go night-night.”
S-2876 • L3 Sintoluna • D28 Silente
“Sintoluna tunes the sky’s final thread. Silente spills luminous stillness. The tide gathers silver in a gentle curve. The narrative feels the portal in the air.”
A FEW HOURS LATER
SOLTERRA, NETHERIA, SÃO PAULO, BRASIL
Hikaru woke. He rubbed his forehead, trying to ease the pain throbbing inside his head. Sat up slowly. What the hell had that been?
Boxes were stacked around him, piled among junk, rusted metal, dirty fabrics, and forgotten equipment. Dust filled the air.
Hikaru coughed. The dryness scraped his lungs. Kuso.
“Home sweet home.” Shuffling footsteps broke the silence. Saymon approached and crouched before him. “Do whatever you want with the place. You just gotta stay here.”
Hikaru frowned. Looked again at the boxes, the rusted metal, and the abandoned objects. “Where am I?”
“You’ll find out soon. The Patriarch wants to see you.” Saymon held his gaze. “Very soon.”
S-2877 • L3 Sintoluna • D28 Silente
“Sintoluna tunes the thread on high. Silente spills silver, almost whole. The tide gathers song in a gentle curve. The portal already gleams in the air.”
BILAB, SOLTERRA
It was almost one in the morning when Hikaru dragged himself to his room. He was exhausted. He had spent hours organizing the information requested by the Patriarch and the Matriarch, selling data to mercenaries, and working on his robotic creations. He wished he had more time for them. He always did.
Blue and silver lights slid over his body as he entered. White sheets covered the bed, and the nanoquilt slowly changed color.
Holograms projected data and graphs among the devices scattered around the room. Nanorobots, tools, and droids occupied almost every available surface. Disassembled miniatures crowded the desk.
Glass shelves rose to the ceiling, filled with books, gadgets, and curious artifacts. Among them, vials of nanosamples stood neatly arranged, their labels meticulously filled out. A plant purified the air.
In one corner stood an asymmetrical sofa with textured cushions. Nearby, a small bar displayed exotic drinks and energy drinks.
Hikaru surveyed his coweavings. Thought about refining that spiderbot. A twinge in his shoulder interrupted the thought. Kuso. He needed a shower. He went to the bathroom and let the water run over his tired body. When he came out, he froze.
A shadow from the past awaited him. It had been a solar cycle since their last encounter.
Saymon was soaked from head to toe. Covered in blood. A trail of reddish water snaked across the floor, leading from the upper part of the room.
Kuso. How had that bastard gotten in from above? Hikaru was certain the entire area was impenetrable. The windows. The entrances. The security nanosystems. And yet, there he was. Damn it. This guy again.
Saymon wore a red smile. Cuts marked his face and neck. His golden eyes sparked among purplish bruises. His torn coat exposed deep wounds on his arms. He limped slowly, favoring his right leg.
What the hell had happened to him? Even in that condition, his intoxicating aura enveloped Hikaru. The nanoengineer backed away until his back met the wall.
The metallic smell of blood mingled with the mercenary’s citrus scent. Saymon approached. Leaned over him. Then raised his hand. He held a soggy cupcake. “Tanjōbi omedetō, Hika-chan,” he whispered beside his ear, Happy birthday.
His husky voice retained that seductive cadence Hikaru would recognize anywhere. Tension vibrated in the air. Then the pressure eased. Saymon collapsed.
Hikaru stood still for a moment. Then he had to act. He bathed him. Cleaned and treated his wounds. Tended to what he could.
When he finished, he settled Saymon into bed and sat on the sofa. Confused. Perplexed. So many scars. And those tattoos? What did they mean? What story did that man carry on his body? And, by all the hells, what did it mean to have Saymon sleeping in his bed?
Hikaru stayed there for hours, trying to understand something. Eventually, he fell asleep on the sofa.
When he woke, he was in bed. A hand rested heavily on his waist. He turned his head. He had to be dreaming. No. It could very well have been a dream, but it was real. That guy was still there. More than that. When the hell had Hikaru ended up in bed?
Saymon’s fingers tightened around his waist. A shiver crossed the nanoengineer’s body like lightning. Hikaru slipped out of the embrace and got up. His heart beat out of rhythm.
Saymon opened his eyes. He was awake. His golden eyes gleamed, bright, amused. His gaze met Hikaru’s and lingered on that uncertain expression.
The mercenary dressed slowly. Before leaving, however, he approached again. Close. Too close. Hikaru felt the air leave him.
“Hmm… a black-eyed kitty showed up in my dreams today.” Saymon smirked. “What could that mean?” His smile was a dance of provocation. His eyes, silent fires. “Think you’ll like the visitor coming later.” And he left. Cruel. Indifferent.
Hikaru sank into a chair. Tried to untangle his thoughts. The cupcake. The blood. The scars. The hand on his waist. The fucking dream. The visitor.
Chikushō. This guy.
Late afternoon
An explosive energy burst through the door. Inoue swept through the library like a hurricane. “Baka! Is this where you’ve been hiding? How could you betray me like this?” The old man’s voice brimmed with indignation. And something wounded. “I only wanted to be alone for a few hours, not an entire solar cycle!”
Hikaru tried to explain. Explained again. And again. Hundreds of times, it seemed, but nothing could soothe Inoue’s indignation.
The old man eventually returned to Japan, still furious.
Over the course of that solar cycle
The scene began to repeat itself. Once. Then again. Lunation after lunation.
Saymon appeared late at night. Bloodied. Wounded. Sometimes barely able to stand before passing out.
Hikaru bathed him. Cleaned off the blood. Treated his injuries. Settled him into bed. Then lay down on the sofa. And fell asleep.
When he opened his eyes, he was in bed again. In Saymon’s arms. The mercenary woke. Got up. Left. In silence.
Always the same cycle.
Honestly, why did Hikaru still get frustrated with that shit? Why did he keep expecting something different? Even he could not quite understand the tickling sensations in his heart. Much less the irritation Saymon’s coldness provoked in him.
That fucking irritation. Why did he care? Damn it.
Tanu appeared carrying a cup of coffee. “Master, why’s this guy always acting… like he’s the only one who matters?” The raccoon dog’s bright eyes studied Hikaru. “He doesn’t even say thanks!” His thin voice rose. “Just because he looks at you like that, like… I don’t even know how to describe it…” Tanu adjusted his gray sweater. “You’re an idiot, that’s what.”
Hikaru took the cup and sipped. The hot coffee went down his throat, but it was not enough to warm the tightness in his chest. He narrowed his eyes. “Quiet, Tanu.” His voice came out firm. Cold. “Have you done what I asked?”
Tanu wrinkled his snout. Turned away, grouchy. Began walking off, grumbling. “I’m going, I’m going… pretend all you want…” His mechanical ears swiveled discreetly. “I can sense your heartbeat when you’re near him, sucker.”
Hikaru remained silent.
Tanu continued, “Did you look into that painting at the Aether Federal Court? The zeniths call the anonymous artist the Artist of Chaos. From what we saw that day on the island, I think I have a few guesses about who he really is.”
The raccoon dog’s metallic footsteps faded, but his words remained. They echoed in Hikaru’s mind like a poorly tuned engine. He wanted to ignore them. Wanted to forget. But he knew escaping that forever was an illusion.
His fingers tightened around the cup. More than he intended. The coffee trembled inside it. And inside Hikaru, something did too.
S-2878 • L6 Teceluna • D22 Abete
“Teceluna weaves a path with a firm thread. Abete opens space in gentle light. The tide traces a curve in living silver. The story carries on in a clear design.”
Tanu was helping Hikaru organize the Vorovskoy mir’s data. Small robots buzzed around them while books, documents, and objects traveled through the air between workstations.
“What are they gonna do now that the weapon’s gone?” the nanoengineer murmured without taking his eyes off the holoscreen.
“No idea, but that Trix is crazy.” The raccoon dog kept compiling the main information.
Then the atmosphere changed. The air grew heavy. A cold sensation ran along the back of Hikaru’s neck like a thread of ice. He would recognize that aura from afar. And the citrus scent that announced it.
“Tanu, you can go.” Hikaru massaged his forehead. What did this guy want now?
The robot obeyed and walked away.
Saymon clicked his tongue. Slid his fingers across the desk, picked up a technological component, and began turning it idly in his hands. “I need a weapon.”
At least it was not another of those enigmatic visits in the middle of the night.
“Weapons aren’t my specialty.” Hikaru’s subdued voice rippled through the air.
And through Saymon. The mercenary smiled. Hmm. Good. Saymon turned the nanoengineer’s chair, making him face him and preventing him from continuing his work. He leaned over Hikaru. Brought his face closer. Too close. His golden eyes burned with suggestion.
“Little Tanu proved to be quite a formidable qn-weapon. Despite the… chaotic essence inhabiting him.” Saymon touched the scar on his own forehead. “I can connect to more than one android. I can only do it by touching them. I wanna change that.”
Hikaru looked away. His heart began to pound. Breathing became difficult with Saymon so close. But what had he just said? He could connect to more than one android? Impossible.
“I don’t know how I can help you.”
Saymon tilted his face. His lips curved. “Tu es sûr, minou? Des particules quantiques stabilisées par des nanites quantiques. Ce n’est pas ta spécialité?” His warm voice traveled down Hikaru’s spine, Sure, kitty? Quantum particles stabilized by quantum nanites. Isn’t that your specialty?
French. That meant… Hikaru sighed. “Follow me.”
In the laboratory at the back, he asked Saymon to lie down on an examination table. The mercenary’s vital signs appeared on the holoscreen. Hikaru connected the quantum analysis systems and began scanning him from head to toe.
What the hell was that? How could that man carry such an absurd quantity of q-nanites inside his body? Hundreds of questions began tumbling over one another in his head. It hardly mattered. He needed to understand how it worked. “How does the connection work?”
Saymon briefly explained how Gagner functioned. Hikaru listened closely.
So that was it. That information explained a great deal. Even dazed, he could not help feeling a silent reverence for what the instruments revealed. Those q-nanites. The author of the diary he had found as a child had helped coweave them. The passages about the transcendence of interfractal and technoneural networks must have referred to Gagner.
His mind seethed. The possibilities began to multiply. How could he transform that mechanism? How could he allow the connection to happen another way?
Hikaru collected a sample of Saymon’s blood.
In the moons that followed, he worked intensely on the qn-prototype. Formulas. Codes. Tests. Two pistols. Bullets loaded with the mercenary’s DNA.
Amid that confusion of calculations and hypotheses, Hikaru stopped. A memory reached him. Chiyo’s voice. “Chemistry always finds balance, especially in chaos.” His mother had said that many solar cycles ago.
Hikaru had never fully understood what she meant. But now… perhaps it was beginning to make sense.
He returned to work. And after so many attempts, he arrived at something promising.
A few lunations later
Saymon appeared in the early hours. Familiarly bloodied. Hikaru cared for him as always. Cleaned his wounds. Treated his injuries. Settled him into bed. Then fell asleep on the sofa.
When he woke, he was in bed again, beside Saymon. He got up and made coffee. The mercenary woke shortly afterward. Bringing his usual coldness with him.
Shit. Why did that apathy still bother him so much? Hikaru tried to focus on what mattered.
“Here.” He handed Saymon one of the pistols. “The q-nanites you’d send to the android—send them into this part. The bullet will encapsulate the q-nanite.”
The amber eyes sparked with pleasure. Saymon brought his face close to the nanoengineer’s, almost touching him. That scent of bamboo and metal… Why did he like it so much?
“Good kitty.” Saymon broke into a charming smile.
Hikaru could not stop the warmth spreading through his chest.
The mercenary narrowed his eyes. “I heard you met my beloved little sister, Maia.” He ran his hand over Hikaru’s dark blue kimono, feeling the nanometallized area of the nanoimplant that occupied the right side of his rib cage.
The nanoengineer shuddered faintly.
“What did you do to make her so furious?” An amused chuckle escaped Saymon, challenging him with genuine subtlety.
Hikaru answered only with an impatient click of his tongue. “Tsk.”
The mercenary’s smile grew even more suggestive. “I had a feeling you two might get along.”
Hikaru tried to hide the surprise that flashed through his eyes. He did not entirely succeed. His black gaze met Saymon’s golden one.
And for a moment, they remained caught in a magnetic frequency.
Saymon clicked his tongue. Moved closer again. His warm breath brushed the nanoengineer’s face. “Y’know, the way you’re looking at me… really makes me want you even more.”
Kuso. Hikaru turned his face away. Stepped back.
Saymon’s smile vanished. Why had he felt so deflated? It did not matter. He left.
Hikaru clenched his fists. Damn it. Only that guy could make him feel so strange.
S-2878 • L8 Libeluna • D14 Irrali
“Libeluna releases the thread that weighs. Irrali radiates full light. The tide sings loud in living silver. The story weaves presence in the air.”
Footsteps echoed upstairs. Fast. Hard. Sharp.
Hikaru raced up the stairs, his chest tight.
Maia lay motionless in his bed. Cold. Silent. Pale. As though she were…
Saymon’s presence suffocated the room. A violent energy emanated from the mercenary. Hateful. Relentless. “What did you do to her?” His voice seethed with contempt.
Hikaru approached slowly. But stopped halfway. Fear scratched at his throat. He was afraid to touch her. What if it was too late? A deep pain spread inside him, accompanied by guilt that grew with every second.
The q-nanite–Regnante hybrid… had worked. He had tested it. Tested it countless times. So why? He could not understand. And there was no time to try. Maia needed help.
Hikaru needed to take her to the only person he believed could save her. Masaru Inoue. He left Maia in his master’s care, in Tokyo.
Then returned to Netheria. He walked the shadowy streets of São Paulo’s underworld as the emptiness around him resonated within.
Freedom had never seemed so distant… or so close.
Perhaps chaos was the path.
Saymon never appeared again. But his shadow remained. Like the embers of an extinguished fire, it kept burning, smoldering in Hikaru’s mind.
An enigma.
Perhaps he would never be able to decipher it. Perhaps he would never want to.
Perhaps not knowing was the only possible answer.
Perhaps he only wanted to feel.
1. Kūchū no Kyūden (空中の宮殿) — literally “Floating Palace.”
Kūchū (空中): “in the skies,” “suspended in the air.”
Kyūden (宮殿): “palace.”
➝ A suspended palace symbolizing unattainable power, far removed from the ordinary world below.
2. Mizukagami (水鏡) — literally “Water Mirror.”
Mizu (水): “water.”
Kagami (鏡): “mirror.”
➝ A name rich in poetry in classical Japan, used for lakes and surfaces that reflect the sky.
3. Kurayami no Sora (暗闇の空) — literally “Sky of Darkness.”
Kurayami (暗闇): “deep darkness,” total darkness.
Sora (空): “sky.”
➝ Evokes the absence of light as an absolute presence, a “sky that swallows.”
4. Kaigan (海岸) — literally “coast, beach.”
Kai (海): “sea.”
Gan (岸): “coast, shore.”
➝ Used to designate beaches and coastal edges. Here, an urban beach marked by technological scars.
5. Tairamachi (平町) — can be translated as “Flat Village” or “Flat District.”
Taira (平): “flat, balanced, peaceful.”
Machi (町): “town, district, neighborhood.”
➝ An invented hybrid place name, but plausible within Japanese neighborhood-naming conventions.
6. Okaasan (お母さん) — Japanese term for “mother.” Used affectionately or respectfully by children.
7. Kigen Library (起源図書館) — literally “Library of Origin.”
Kigen (起源): origin, genesis.
➝ A symbolic name referring to the search for roots and primordial knowledge.
8. Ninkyō dantai (任侠団体) — literally “chivalrous organization.”
➝ The official designation many groups use for themselves, seeking legitimacy as heirs to a code of honor (ninkyō) associated with loyalty, protection, and justice on their own terms.
➝ Functions as an institutional façade: a term used in formal records and public statements, or to sustain the image that they are not criminals, but rather a traditional brotherhood that “defends the weak”—even though, in practice, they engage in illegal activities.
➝ By contrast: Yakuza is the popular/pejorative label, Bōryokudan is the state’s legal designation (“violent organization”), and Gokudō is the identity embraced from within.
9. Hika-chibi / Hika-chiba — affectionate nicknames for Hikaru.
Chibi (ちび): “small, short,” often used affectionately.
Variations such as -chiba create intimate wordplay between mother and son.
10. Mirai Yokocho (未来横丁) — literally “Alley of the Future.”
Mirai (未来): future.
Yokocho (横丁): an alley or side-street district, typical of areas filled with bars and small shops in Japan.
➝ Here, a vibrant, chaotic neighborhood surrounding Kigen Library.
11. Kōsetsu (降雪 / こうせつ) — can mean “snowstorm” or “snowfall.”
➝ A poetic name for the guard robot, suggesting coldness, silence, and inevitability—like snow covering everything.
12. Ryuho-kai (龍鳳会) — “Dragon-Phoenix Association.”
Ryū (龍): dragon.
Hō (鳳): phoenix.
Kai (会): group, society.
➝ A fictional name following the naming conventions of Ninkyō dantai clans, evoking mythical strength and rebirth.
13. Karyū (火流) — “Current of Fire.”
Ka (火): fire.
Ryū (流): flow, current.
➝ A symbolic place name evoking incandescent, destructive energy.
14. Ryūden (龍殿) — “Dragon Palace.”
Ryū (龍): dragon.
Den (殿): palace, hall.
➝ The clan’s monumental headquarters, projecting power and authority.
15. Hakama (袴) — wide, pleated trousers traditionally worn by warriors and monks, and on formal ceremonial occasions.
16. Jinbei (甚平) — light, comfortable traditional Japanese attire consisting of a short jacket and trousers.
17. Kimono (着物) — traditional Japanese clothing. Literally “thing to wear.”
18. Oyabun (親分) — supreme leader of the Ninkyō dantai.
Oya (親): “parent.”
Bun (分): “part, status.”
➝ Literally “parental figure”; represents the patriarchal leader of a clan.
19. Nienes (pronounced “ní-eni”; fictional) — a fictional currency derived from the Japanese yen, adapted to the narrative’s universe.
20. Saiko-komon (最高顧問) — “Supreme Advisor.”
Saikō (最高): supreme, highest.
Komon (顧問): advisor, counselor.
➝ A highly prestigious position within the Ninkyō dantai hierarchy, serving as the oyabun’s direct advisor.
21. Shatei (舎弟) — literally “younger brothers.”
➝ In the Ninkyō dantai context, refers to subordinate, lower-ranking members bound to the oyabun through a hierarchical relationship of loyalty.
22. Kobun (子分) — literally “son” or “disciple.”
➝ In the Ninkyō dantai context, refers to members subordinate to an oyabun (boss).
23. Katana (刀) — a traditional Japanese sword with a curved blade, a symbol of samurai honor.
24. Chikushō (畜生) — a strong interjection, something like “Damn!” or “Damn it!”
➝ Literally “animal” in the sense of a non-rational being.
25. Gaki (餓鬼) — a derogatory term for “brat” or “punk kid.”
➝ Literally means “hungry spirit” in Buddhism, but became an insult for children in colloquial usage.
26. Baka (馬鹿) — a common insult meaning “idiot, stupid.”
➝ Depending on the tone, it can be offensive or even affectionate.
27. Usotsuki (嘘つき) — “liar.”
➝ From uso (嘘, lie) + tsuki (つき, “one who says/does”).
28. Kuso (くそ / 糞) — a swear word equivalent to “shit.”
➝ Used as an interjection expressing frustration or anger.
29. Sensei (先生) — literally “one who was born before.”
➝ Used for teachers, masters, doctors, artists, or anyone regarded as a guide.
30. Kohai (後輩) — “junior,” someone younger or lower-ranking in relation to a senpai.
➝ In this context, Inoue had never imagined having someone who would treat him as a master (sensei).
31. Hika-baka — a blend of nickname and insult, something like “Hikaru-the-idiot.”
➝ Expresses affectionate harshness, a mask Inoue uses to conceal the bond beginning to form.
32. Kurokawa (黒川) — “Black River.”
Kuro (黒): black, dark.
Kawa (川): river.
➝ A fictional neighborhood with a name typical of Japanese localities, evoking dark waters.
33. Gokudō (極道) — literally “extreme path.”
➝ A term used as a synonym for Ninkyō dantai, emphasizing the criminal path as a way of life.
34. Osuinu (雄犬) — literally “male dog.”
Osu (雄): male.
Inu (犬): dog.
➝ Used here to degrade Hikaru in animalistic terms. In an erotic-violent context, it echoes “filthy little male dog,” carrying insult, possession, and perverse affection at once.
35. Ninkyō dantai tattoos (irezumi, 入れ墨) — traditional body tattoos, generally depicting dragons, flowers, waves, and mythical animals, used as marks of identity and power within the clans.
36. Kore nan da kuso?! (これ何だクソ?!) — “What the fuck is this?!”
Kore (これ): this, that.
Nan da (何だ): “what is this?”
Kuso (クソ): “shit, fuck.”
37. Da kore kuso?! (だこれクソ?!) — an even more colloquial and aggressive way of repeating the same exclamation.
38. Erosen (エロセン) — a fictional drug.
The name combines ero (エロ, “erotic”) + sen (線, line / thread).
➝ Induces prolonged states of arousal, mingling pleasure and torment; used here as a weapon of degradation.
39. Hika-chan (ヒカちゃん) — an affectionate/diminutive form of Hikaru.
-chan (ちゃん): an affectionate suffix used for children, close friends, pets, or to convey tenderness.
➝ Here, it resonates as distorted intimacy, a mixture of affection and dominance.
40. Tanjōbi omedetō (誕生日おめでとう) — “Happy birthday.” A common expression of birthday congratulations.
Mirella Ricardo Granato
Author / Artist / Lawyer
Brazilian writer blending cyberpunk worlds with other themes. Currently writing Half in Darkness, a dystopian novel exploring love, loss, and secrets.
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After the final line
An optional space to discuss the whole book.
Half in Fire
From Hikaru’s codes to Akiko’s memories. One letter from Maia is enough to redraw the map of the São Paulo Akiko thought she knew.
The Red Snow
After a fortress built to hide secrets, another waits in the middle of a blizzard. Trix knows every blind spot.
