Neon lights glittered, and dazzling billboards flashed. Not yet a blazing sun, the sea of glowing electronics could only be described as a burning ocean. Half-naked prostitutes and chained boys and girls swam like deep-sea fish maddened by light, alongside the poor and vagrants, devoured corpses of society, and patrons eyeing their prey with burning desire… The pleasure district seethed with unchanging greed, its insatiable thirst raging unchecked.
Surveying the city, Danan let out a weary sigh, his gaze catching an armored combat vehicle. He sighed again, deeper. Encased in special alloy armor capable of deflecting even rocket launcher blasts, the vehicle was designed to escort mid-level city dignitaries, rarely used for combat. As the rear door opened automatically, Gloria slipped into the dim interior, offering a soft smile and extending a hand to Danan.
“What’s wrong? You look glum,” Gloria said.
“Nothing special. Just a bit surprised,” Danan replied.
“Surprised?”
“Never thought I’d ride in a thing like this.”
Gripping Gloria’s hand, Danan sank into the soft seat, holding Eve in his arms and closing his eyes.
“You look exhausted,” Gloria noted.
“…Yeah.”
“You can rest, you know.”
“…Still got things to do. I’ll rest when it’s all over. No problem.”
“I see.”
The engine roared, vibrating through the seat’s foam. The vehicle moved slowly, crushing prostitutes blocking the path and mercilessly grinding Crucible of Carnal Desire members into pulp. Danan, glancing out the window, washed away splattered flesh with the cleaning device, watching the pleasure district’s streets blur past in streaks of light.
He didn’t care what happened to strangers. Piles of flesh dripped blood, minced without a second thought. Watching the district’s residents die one after another, Danan felt no disgust or aversion, only indifference to their scattered lives. He merely wiped away the blood obscuring his view or cleared flesh slapped against the window.
This was the undercity’s daily reality, an ordinary scene he found unremarkable. Slaughter, destruction, the strong trampling the weak—his mind had grown numb to it. But… glancing at Gloria operating the HHPC, Danan tightened his grip on Eve, shaking his head and touching his forehead.
If these two were targeted for slaughter, their lives snuffed out mercilessly, what would he do? Take up arms and fight? Or wear a resigned expression, pretending not to see? Probably… when the moment came, he’d draw Heres and fight. To protect his friends… he’d throw himself into battle. Noticing Danan’s gaze, Gloria smiled, and Danan looked away, back to the window, leaning on the armrest.
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
“Danan,” Gloria said.
“…What?”
“You and that girl—what’s your relationship?”
“…Just partners. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“I see.”
“…”
“What’s with the sudden silence? If you’ve got something to say, spit it out.”
“A long time ago,” Gloria began.
“Yeah?”
“I saw a girl who looked a lot like her.”
Gloria’s words stirred Danan’s mind, a spark of killing intent flaring. Like a drop of black ink falling into pure white liquid, the spreading darkness ignited his emotions.
“…Canaan?” Danan asked.
“No idea about names. I only caught a glimpse. Her beautiful silver hair stuck with me, but I don’t know anything else.”
“…Got it.”
The HHPC’s pale blue light illuminated Gloria’s face, casting deep shadows. Canaan and Kaas—the white girl and the beastly man Danan faced in the ruins. Should he press Gloria about their connection? His fingers brushed Heres’ hilt, stroking the guard, hesitating.
If Gloria planned to sell him out to them or kill him, there’d be no point in sharing information. Stay silent, let the car carry him, knock him out with sleeping gas, and hand him over. That’d be the quickest move. Yet… Danan held a faint hope that Gloria wouldn’t do such a thing. A fragile hope that the young man who called him a friend wouldn’t betray him. Suppressing the budding killing intent, feigning calm, Danan gripped Heres’ hilt, faking a yawn.
“Sleepy, Danan?” Gloria asked.
“…”
“…Honestly, you’re so standoffish.”
Why so cold? As Gloria snapped his fingers, Danan tightened his grip on Heres. If it was a trap, he’d draw the blade instantly, killing to survive. Hiding his cold resolve, Danan watched as Gloria draped a blanket over him, lit a soft lamp, and tapped the HHPC’s keys.
“…Gloria,” Danan said.
“What, you’re awake? You could’ve slept.”
“…As if I could sleep.”
Wrapping Eve in the blanket, Danan gave a faint smile. “No… sorry.”
“You’re a good guy, you know.”
“What’s that out of nowhere?”
“Just talking to myself, don’t mind it. Anyway… sorry for doubting you.”
“Doubt me? I’d never deceive you. That’d be betrayal.”
“…Yeah, you’re right.”
The pleasure district’s neon faded, swallowed by dim darkness. Passing through the commercial district’s clamor, the city—filled with deceit and fraud—revealed a starkly divided society of workers and elites.
Danan’s gaze drifted, catching a girl… no, a presence too ethereal to be human, more like a shadow. Tefira’s phantom, blending into the electronic glow of billboards, entered his vision. He smiled quietly.
“Something up, Danan?” Gloria asked.
“…Saw a familiar face.”
“A friend?”
“Who knows. Just… I’m glad she’s alive. That’s what I think now.”
“That’s good to hear.”
Their eyes met briefly—Tefira’s prismatic irises crossing Danan’s obsidian ones. Like light reflecting off a telephoto lens or shining through frosted glass, her artificial rainbow eyes mirrored Eve’s. A mix of mystery and fantasy, her gaze showed a biological response unlike a mechanical eye. Danan guessed Tefira’s eyes were bioengineered.
“Danan,” Gloria called.
“…”
“Danan? Hey, you listening?”
Gloria heard only soft breathing. Wrapped in the blanket, holding Eve with his flesh arm, Danan leaned against the window, fast asleep. Sleeping in front of someone—showing vulnerability, exposing weakness—was unthinkable. Danan never slept outside Lils’ room or his own, no matter how wounded or exhausted, until safety was assured.
“…”
Closing the HHPC’s monitor, Gloria opened his paperback, switching on the reading lamp. Its faint glow lit the car’s interior.
“Are you dreaming good dreams, Danan? Or bad ones? I don’t know if you’re listening, but… I don’t dream. I hold ideals, aspirations, desires… but I don’t dream. Know why?”
No reply came from Danan. Gloria turned a page, tracing the text.
“An eternal corridor of infinite stars, the unchanging depths of a still surface. Is it human life that cycles, or do we seek change within the immutable, transforming ourselves…? Danan, how long will you keep forgetting?”
The book’s cover bore the title Thus Spoke Zarathustra. In the corner, the initials N.L. were etched.
