Dark circles shadowed his eyes as Danan laid Eve on the sofa, handing the Hakara Deck to Liars. He lit a cigarette, exhaling purple smoke.

  “Danan,” Lils called.

  “What?”

  “Good work. Your friend left the payment deck.”

  “Got it.”

  “Not asking who it was?” Lils teased, a sly smile playing on her lips.

  “…” Danan shrugged silently.

  Rising from her chair with a laptop in hand, Lils plugged a connect cable into the deck. Basic initialization and additional device settings—quick work for a neural-immersion device like the deck. Configuring the software for the terminal, Lils handed the cable to Eve, who stared blankly at the ceiling.

  “Eve,” Lils said.

  “…What?” Eve replied.

  “First time using a deck?”

  “…Used it a few times before. I think I know how it works.”

  “Good, no need for explanations then. Danan… no way you’d know, right? It’s not our thing.”

  Few in the undercity owned decks, and only select mechanical technicians knew their workings. Danan, a ruin digger, and Lils, a wizard-class data tech, could handle deck setup, but connecting it to human nerves and minds was tricky.

  With a skilled technician, though, it was different. Cracking her neck eagerly, Liars opened an attaché case, spreading out neural medical gear. “Alright, Danan-chan, lie down,” she said, pointing beside Eve.

  “Wait, why me?” Danan asked.

  “You want to help Eve-chan, don’t you? Or not?”

  “Not denying that, but why me? Explain, Liars.”

  “Fine, fine. Look, only you and I have mechanical prosthetics here. Lils-chan’s got no embedded devices. I need to monitor the deck and user’s condition, and Lils-chan’s got to track the deck’s operations on her PC. Get it?”

  He got it, but why was he needed? Danan sighed, exhaling faint purple smoke.

  “Connecting a mind and nerves to a deck is risky. If it’s virus-infected or hits a sudden error, the user’s brain is fried—could end up a vegetable. So, Danan-chan, I need you to back Eve-chan up.”

  “So, I’m… what, Eve’s external safety for the deck?”

  “Exactly.”

  Handing him the connect cable, Liars smiled, her gaze probing Danan’s obsidian eyes, as if testing him, urging a choice.

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  “…” He had no doubts about wanting to help Eve. “…” But he feared the risks even more.

  He could leave it to Lumina writhing in Eve’s body, letting time repair her damaged parts. But how long would that take? Could Danan alone protect Eve from Damocles, Aeshma, or the undercity’s dangers? The tower’s Cleaner would come for his life again, and without Eve’s help, surviving was near impossible. Hoping for miracles that didn’t exist was the same as accepting death.

  So—Danan crushed the cigarette’s ember with his mechanical arm, plugged the cable into his socket, and lay beside Eve.

  “Liars, start it. Lils… do your part.”

  “Got it. Don’t worry about vitals or connection errors—I’ve got you covered,” Liars said.

  “…Danan,” Eve murmured.

  “Eve.”

  “…”

  “No problem. It’ll work out. Liars and Lils are top-notch. Focus on yourself. If anything goes wrong—”

  I’m here. Swallowing those words, Danan glanced at Lils. “I’m counting on you,” he said, closing his eyes.

  “You sure? No regrets?” Lils asked.

  “…Who knows? Probably… the old me wouldn’t do something this stupid.”

  “Right. The old you wouldn’t risk yourself. You’d act for yourself, not others. What changed?”

  “…Just—”

  “…”

  “Better to regret doing it than not doing it. If I can, I should. Right, Lils?”

  “…Right.”

  In the darkness, keys clacked, echoing as their minds flowed through the connect cable into the deck. A strange sensation—bodies thinning, drawn into countless lines.

  “…Danan,” Eve whispered, her voice faint, almost vanishing. “Thank you… sorry for the trouble.”

  Their consciousnesses plunged into the Hakara Deck.

  …

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  …

  A white corridor, pristine walls. Two girls walked the spotless passage.

  Porcelain-white skin, flowing silver hair, identical in build and height. The only differences: one girl carried a mature air, her prismatic eyes shimmering rainbow hues; the other, slightly hunched, timid, her eyes a vivid crimson like fresh blood. The rainbow-eyed girl tugged the red-eyed one’s hand. “Canaan, straighten up. It’s unseemly,” she said firmly.

  “B-But, big sister, we’re not supposed to go past here! Let’s stop—we’ll get in trouble with Mom and Dad!” Canaan pleaded.

  “We’re everyone’s future, aren’t we? Knowing is our duty. Ignorance is just an excuse. Understand? Knowing is what we must do. Canaan, take your mission more seriously.”

  Canaan whimpered, cowed by her sister’s intensity, following as she was pulled toward a heavy black iron door.

  “…”

  A oppressive air seeped from the door. They’d been taught that beyond it lay an unknown entity, one they couldn’t meet until the appointed time. Opening it would mean forgetting how to defy fate, branded with a curse to serve their mission.

  “Big sister…” Canaan whispered.

  “…”

  Her sister’s hand, gripping hers, trembled. Canaan swallowed hard, seeing fear in the sister who never flinched, even against adults.

  “Let’s go back. We should wait properly…”

  “No, we’re going. We have to know everything… to connect it to hope.”

  Once decided, her sister never wavered, achieving the impossible. Canaan admired her, never doubting her choices were optimal. But now, she felt her sister was wrong, harboring a flicker of rebellion against defying their parents’ orders.

  The sealed door opened on its own, a thick mechanical stench wafting from the darkened space, stinging their noses. Cold air, machine hums, and a faint voice mingled. Timid and weak against fear, Canaan shook off her sister’s hand, screamed, and fled like a startled rabbit.

  “Cana—”

  A steel arm shot from the darkness, seizing the girl’s wrist, dragging her into the door. No time to scream, she was hoisted, her clothes slashed apart, her beautiful form exposed before a man staring at a pale blue monitor.

  “…Who are you?” he demanded.

  “…”

  “I’m asking who you are. How did you get here? How did you slip past my eyes? Speak, child. No, wait… I see. You’re one of the two from the plan, aren’t you? That fool Kamishiro… I told him to manage kids thoroughly.”

  His voice, a strange blend of old and young, came from a man seated in a chair-like life-support system, tethered by countless cables. He stroked the girl’s cheek with an octopus-like mechanical limb, draping a blanket over her naked body.