The atmosphere in the hall was unnervingly comfortable.

  Leo estimated the ambient temperature at 22°C, humidity at 45%. They were even pumping in trace amounts of negative ions. On this Moon, where every liter of breath was a billable service, such extravagant life support wasn't just luxury—it was a grotesque mockery of the miners outside, whose lungs were slowly turning to fibrotic stone.

  Leo sat in a wooden wheelchair, staring up at the transparent dome and its lattice of directional beams. Earth hadn't risen yet.

  He had opened his eyes three minutes ago. The immediate result? The Fire Keeper, brandishing her thorny electric baton, had locked eyes with him. Her pupils had snapped shut like an overloaded server crashing before she simply... powered down and collapsed.

  System shutdown, Leo diagnosed silently. When objective reality violently contradicts subjective belief, the subconscious forces a reboot to prevent a psychotic break. Either that, or she’s a hell of an actress.

  What a delicate circuit breaker. Was she really the core of this twisted trio?

  Crow had immediately carried the limp girl away, leaving Leo to focus on the true power behind the curtain: Mora.

  The old woman stood with her back to him, watching the sky. The folded mechanical arms extending from her spine gleamed with a cold, hard luster under the starlight.

  Leo narrowed his eyes, analyzing the hardware. The hydraulic lines were laid out with pure pragmatism, terminating in micron probes, laser scalpels, and high-frequency bone oscillators. Surgical assist arms.

  Combined with her earlier threats, the conclusion was obvious: this old woman wasn't a blind fanatic. She was a tech-savvy cyber-doctor, just like him.

  She follows logic, not theology. Good. That means we can trade.

  "Leo. Former Level-1 Researcher at the Morrison Bio-Lab. Real name: John Lee. Also known as Li Yue. Underground cyber-doc. Hacker."

  Mora turned slowly.

  "I don't know what you're talking about." The jig was up, obviously, but Leo wasn't about to roll over.

  "Why did you infiltrate the Third Sanctum? What is your intention?"

  "Infiltrate? 'Kidnapped' seems the more accurate term." Leo tried to stand, but the artificial gravity—or perhaps a sedative—held him heavy in the chair.

  "Then explain. In the Lower City shrine, why did you approach Her Highness? Why call her 'Kin'? What was the meaning of that gesture? Don't tell me you wanted an autograph."

  The game was on.

  Leo straightened his back. His spine ached with a dull throb, but he needed to project the aura of a player at the table.

  "Because I know." Leo raised a hand, tapping his own neck. "I know the truth you hide under the skin."

  Mora’s expression remained unreadable.

  Leo went on the offensive. "Your Fire Keeper has a High-Density Lead Polymer Matrix implant. Correct? That’s military-grade radiation shielding. There’s usually only one reason to install that hardware: walking through Ground Zero after a nuclear blast."

  He stared dead at Mora, hunting for a micro-expression, a twitch, anything.

  "The 'Lunar Rite' in three months... it’s Doomsday. You turned the Fire Keeper into a humanoid Noah's Ark. You have escape pods ready. As for the believers below... you don't give a damn about them, do you?"

  "I didn't rush her for a pilgrimage," Leo added, forcing a bitter smile. "It was a trade. My partners were ready to expose everything. I didn't want to die. I just wanted a ticket out, maybe some shielding materials. Instead? You kidnap me, torture me, and use me for human experimentation! You lunatics!"

  Mora looked at him. Her gaze was unfathomable—not panic, but a strange... pity?

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  "Brilliant." After a long silence, Mora nodded. "Truth mixed with lies, a closed logical loop, rigorous deduction. I almost believed it myself."

  She took a step forward.

  "But even so, do you think your absurd 'Doomsday Theory' threatens Her Highness? I kill you, and the secret dies with you."

  "Oh, really?" Leo played his ace. "Then why am I still breathing? Let me tell you another secret. That Privy Council envoy? You think Oba is just some greedy bureaucrat?"

  Mora raised an eyebrow. "Is he not?"

  "Ha! That’s my partner!" Leo laughed, channeling every ounce of bravado he had. "I’m the kind of guy who sells a 1040 chip at 9090 prices. I’m a con artist, Mora."

  He leaned forward, imposing despite the wheelchair.

  "I set up an Encrypted Broadcast Protocol ages ago. Kill me, and within ten minutes, the headline—'Doomsday is coming, the Silver Ring abandons its flock'—will stream from every mine vent to the entire solar system! Your believers will tear every Sanctum apart stone by stone. Want to bet, Mother Superior?"

  Checkmate. Power fears chaos, not truth.

  But Mora smiled. It was a withered, eerie expression, as if she’d just heard the world’s funniest joke.

  "Adaptability. To survive, you package a clumsy mistake as a spy operation... Doctor Leo, your will to live is admirable."

  She swiped her hand through the holographic interface in the air.

  "But I won't give you a ticket, because it's not needed. And I can't give you materials, because you aren't worthy."

  Leo opened his mouth to retort, but she cut him off.

  "But I can give you money."

  "Money?" Leo scoffed. "Doomsday is coming, and you offer credits? I couldn't even wipe my ass with—"

  "Fifty million Earth Dollars."

  Leo’s hand froze mid-air.

  "Earth... Dollars?" His throat clicked dry. Hard currency. With that kind of capital, he could buy an interstellar shuttle. He could fly to Mars, Europa... anywhere.

  Mora calmly raised the stakes, her voice like a demon reciting scripture. "Yes. Even if nuclear war breaks out, you could build a private shelter at a Lagrange Point, sipping champagne while you watch the fireworks."

  Leo’s breath hitched.

  As a materialist, a scientist, and a black marketeer, he lived by one rule: Everything has a price.

  He stared into Mora’s eyes. "What are you buying?"

  "I want you to accompany Her Highness. Help her complete the Lunar Rite in three months."

  "Are you crazy?" Leo lurched in the wheelchair. "That's the apocalypse! I'll have money but no life to spend it!"

  "Calm down, Doctor." Mora waved a hand, as if shooing a fly. "The Lunar Rite isn't Doomsday. It's just a... Game for Fire Keepers."

  "A game?" Leo shook his head. "What kind of game?"

  "That is not your concern."

  "Then what is my role?"

  "Maintenance. Check her vitals, service her gear. It is your line of work. Zero difficulty."

  "Really?"

  "Of course not. It is high risk. But... you have no choice."

  A holographic receipt popped into view.

  Recipient: Lower City Ring Benevolence Hospital (Paid on behalf of Oba) Amount: $500,000 Note: Charity Donation.

  Leo’s eyes widened.

  "That is the deposit. Now, your dead weight of a partner—assuming he even exists—" Mora swiped, completing the transfer, "is rich. Do you think he still cares if you live or die?"

  A chill ran down Leo’s spine. A massive, absurd sense of powerlessness drowned him.

  This old woman. In minutes, she had used money to turn his "core ally"—an ally he had completely fabricated.

  Her insight into human nature was terrifying. But ironically, Oba's son was now saved. A good deed born of malice. This world had a massive logic bug.

  "Why me?" Leo asked.

  "Because you... lived. High-concentration Primordial Fluid, nanites... nothing killed you. You are perfect for the job."

  "Coincidence?"

  "Like penicillin or X-rays. History is built on accidents. Help Her Highness win, and I give you the rest." Mora looked down at him. "Or, I can directly give you a Hope-V Class Interstellar Ship."

  Leo gripped the armrest until his knuckles turned white.

  A wormhole seemed to rip open in his vision—he saw his own deep-space shuttle waiting. Constant temperature, sterile air, gravity matched to his bone density.

  He could push the throttle, fly to the dark side's abandoned mines, mocking the silence that once swallowed him. He could retrace his parents' path back to Earth.

  When the hatch opened, that moist, heavy, salty air and 1G gravity would press down like a weighted blanket on every screaming nerve.

  As long as I end the Phantom Pain... walking through hell with a madwoman? Fine.

  He wasn't afraid. He was Leo. A hacker who dismantled nerves under a microscope.

  Mora waited ten minutes.

  Finally, Leo spat it out: "Deal."

  Mora smiled.

  "But!" Leo spun the wheelchair around. "I have a condition."

  He had to reclaim some dignity. "I'll be her doctor. I'll dialyze her messy metabolites. I'll join the competition. But you tell her this: I am not some Immaculate One, some Savior, or her Guardian!"

  He lurched forward, his voice cracking.

  "Mora, you're a doctor. You know her psych profile. You know what she did? She poured blood and heavy metals down my throat and called it service! She humiliated me, treating me like an ignorant child... Today, she pressed thorns into my forehead to watch me bleed, crying tears of joy. She completely ignored infection protocols!"

  Leo panted. "She's a textbook case of Dependent Personality Disorder with a Messiah Complex! I'm not scared of our opponents, I'm scared of her as a teammate. Feed her delusions, and ten lives won't be enough! I accept everything else, but not this!"

  "If you can't do it, die."

  The air solidified. The temperature seemed to drop ten degrees in an instant.

  Without warning, a cold High-Frequency Vibro-Blade pressed against Leo’s carotid artery.

  Crow. His dead, emotionless face appeared behind Leo.

  "Doctor Leo, from now on," Mora’s voice echoed, majestic as a final judgment, "you have only two labels: Attending Physician to Her Highness... or compost for the garden. Choose."