The Danan Edes had known was a youth clad in black body armor and a durable suit, never parting with his weapon, exuding a menacing aura of killing intent.

  If someone threatened him, he’d eliminate them without hesitation—man, woman, or child, it didn’t matter. His pitch-black eyes held no hope, his steel mechanical arm always slick with blood. Even during gate management duty, Edes saw Danan gun down terrified undercity folk heading to the ruins, deeming him cold, ruthlessly efficient.

  But that view needed discarding, Edes thought. Watching Danan stroke Stella’s head, wiping her mouth with a paper towel as she ate food brought by Mrs. Irene, he looked like a caring older brother. Blood or no blood, without the social framework of family, Edes saw only a close-knit sibling bond between Danan and Stella.

  “Danan,” Lils said.

  “What?”

  “Having fun?”

  “Fun? Not quite… I feel… a bit relieved, I guess.”

  “Relieved?”

  “Yeah. That choice I made back then… it wasn’t wrong. That’s what I’m relieved about. Lils…”

  “…”

  “Family… maybe it’s something like this.”

  Gulping his beer, Danan took a bite of yurinchi Stella offered, chuckling softly.

  “Stella, don’t worry about me. Eat as much as you want.”

  “But you said to eat when I can, right? You’ve only had beer—eat something, it’s better for you!”

  “Idiot. Starting tomorrow, you’re helping with ruins diving. Down there, it’s just gel packs. Without Edes inviting us, we wouldn’t get food this good. Got it? You’re a kid—don’t worry about adult stuff.”

  Downing more beer, sighing deeply, Danan’s doubled vision caught Stella, Lils, and Eve. Reaching for his cigarette pack, he hesitated, shook his head, and laughed.

  “No cigarette?” Lils remarked.

  “Stella’s here.”

  “Shocking—you caring about someone else.”

  “…Guess so.”

  “You don’t care about me?” Eve teased.

  “You want me to?”

  “Kidding.”

  Chuckling, Eve tilted her cola glass, watching bubbles cling to the ice, splitting when tilted right, fizzing brown when tilted left.

  “Danan,” Edes said.

  “What?”

  “Which one do you like?”

  “Huh?”

  “Don’t play dumb. Living with two young women? Gotta like them to stick together, right?”

  “…Don’t be stupid.”

  Finishing his third beer, Danan’s dark eyes pierced Edes with an icy glare.

  “No one would like me… No, undercity folk can’t fully accept or love anyone. Everyone lives for themselves, trampling others to survive today. Don’t you think so, Edes?”

  Sighing heavily, stroking Stella’s head, Danan sat her in his seat, gripped his cigarette pack, and staggered to the smoking room.

  “You okay?” Edes asked.

  “Not a kid. Just smoking and coming back… No need to worry.”

  “Alright.”

  Edes watched Danan slide through the glass door into the smoky room, then gulped his beer, eyeing Eve and Lils.

  Eve kept tilting her cola, gazing at bubbles, twirling her silver hair. Bored, uninterested… what colors filled her prismatic eyes? A vibrant world or a dull one like her cola? Only she knew.

  Lils, watching Danan in the smoking room, called Stella to her lap, stroking her hair. Tending to the girl in Danan’s absence, she seemed like an older sister, despite the age gap.

  “So, ladies, what do you think of him… Danan?” Edes asked.

  “Idiot,” Eve said.

  “Fool,” Lils added.

  “…”

  Their instant replies made Edes give a wry smile, scratching his cheek.

  “Look, I know it’s not my place, but Danan’s no idiot or fool. As a ruin digger, he’s skilled. Diving ruins, coming back alive, repeating for over five years? He’s the only one I know who can.”

  “That’s why,” Lils said.

  “What’s that mean?”

  “How long will he keep walking this tightrope, fighting on the edge? He can’t decide that himself—that’s why he’s an idiot.”

  Ordering a highball from Mrs. Irene, Lils sipped, eyes fixed on Danan.

  “How old are you, miss?” Edes asked.

  “Self-identified as twenty. No issue.”

  “But—”

  “If it’s a problem, I’ll rewrite it. Don’t worry, Edes.”

  Downing her highball, ordering another, Lils stayed composed, cheeks unflushed, alcohol tolerance strong.

  But… tightrope, razor’s edge. Ruin diving was perilous, death always near. Teams of ten often returned with one survivor, mechanical limbs shattered, organs spilling, blood-soaked. Surviving and retrieving relics was a miracle.

  “Danan’s skilled, never failed my requests. I’ve never seen him botch a job. But he only knows life as a ruin digger. Honestly… I want him to think about his own path, find something beyond the choices he’s given.”

  “Beyond given choices…” Edes echoed.

  “Exactly.”

  Was she hopeful? Staring at Lils’s profile under the lamp, stroking Stella’s hair, Edes mulled her words.

  Few find answers beyond given choices. Mid-level or undercity, people pick the best card from their hand, playing based on circumstance. Choices are the heart’s trade-offs, a light piercing the fog to reveal hidden paths.

  Danan, steeped in undercity thinking, only knew ruin diving. Lils wanted him to change, find his own way, see paths beyond the visible. Yet, she used him to survive, caught in contradictory desires—hoping for his change while bound to him. She was searching for a better outcome, in her own way.

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  “Miss,” Edes said.

  “What?”

  “Changing a man ain’t easy. Unable to reject what they carry, unable to break their chains, they sink into despair and drown. Even if they seem changed, their core stays the same.”

  “Talking about yourself?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Vague.”

  “Too late for clear answers, for me.”

  “Does everyone end up like you with age?”

  “Depends on the person.” Laughing off Lils’s words, Edes gulped his beer, ordering another from Mrs. Irene.

  Bubbles burst on the ice, and through her cola glass, Eve’s prismatic eyes caught Danan in the smoking room.

  Thin purple smoke curled around him, leaning against the wall, arms crossed. Steel fingers pinched a cigarette, dry lips gripping the filter—unchanged. His dark eyes stared blankly at the glowing ember, exhaling smoke with a sigh—the Danan Eve knew.

  What Danan thought, felt—Eve had no clue. A week and some days together, their words neither many nor few, yet she couldn’t fathom what drove him daily.

  Unlike Lils, she hadn’t spent a decade with him. She awoke buried in ruins, her cold capsule’s sync function revealing the world: the tower completed, the ark scrapped, her sister’s betrayal dooming the plan—irreversible truths she couldn’t accept, forcing her to face the end.

  She knew this wasn’t the time to leisurely dine. With limited time, she had to defy the end, claw back lost hope to fulfill the plan. She understood this painfully. Even accepting the end, she wouldn’t stop. Though no means were clear, her goal was—kill her traitorous sister, seize the code, transplant Code Onimus to the NPC. That was her mission, her righteous path. Danan was merely a vessel, insurance for Code Onimus.

  Yet… Eve’s eyes darkened, looking away, unable to face him.

  She’d been asked—by her. Sailor, stripped of dignity, life, and humanity, ravaged, had begged Eve to trust Danan, not betray him. Her wish, fading into the digital sea, falling into regret’s abyss, dulled Eve’s resolve, destabilizing her purpose.

  She shouldn’t have engaged with tower folk. She should’ve annihilated them on sight, kept killing, waiting for a chance to eliminate Canaan and her allies. Then she’d have no doubts, no entanglements.

  “…It’s my mistake,” she thought. “…Couldn’t abandon Danan when he was dying.” “…Tried to gain a piece against Canaan and Kaas, transplanted a bit of Lumina.”

  She could remove the Lumina powering Danan’s heart now. But that would kill him—his heart would stop, Canaan’s slash would reopen, organs spilling, dead in a minute. His life or death was her choice; one decision, and he’d be a bloodied corpse.

  Choices seemed infinite but might converge on a single blood-soaked path. Stepping through pooling blood, enduring crimson sprays, the light ahead wasn’t hope but a dim, flickering glow. Touch it, and it bursts, leaving a darkness deeper than the abyss. Lils wanted Danan to find another path, but when she learned the truth of the Lumina in him, how would she curse Eve? Glancing at Lils, drinking and stroking Stella’s head, Eve sipped her cola, feeling the carbonation’s sting.

  “…”

  No such thing as choices.

  “…”

  Just fulfill the mission, execute the plan.

  “…”

  No room for sentiment, doubt, or conflict.

  “…”

  Seize the world her parents and comrades wanted. That’s why she—

  “It’s tough, being bound by something,” Edes said.

  “—!” Eve’s eyes widened, meeting his sardonic smile. Pulling herself from the mire of thought, she tensed, silver wings glinting.

  “Bound by your way of life, your role, your duty—it’s rough. I’m a chief now, but I was just a grunt. Rare in the mid-level city—no advanced education. Man, I struggled.”

  “I thought everyone in the mid-level city finished specialized education,” Eve said.

  “Normally, yeah. But young me was a no-good punk, always causing trouble. Fights were routine—sometimes half-killed people.”

  “You didn’t fall to the undercity?”

  “I had aptitude.”

  “Aptitude?”

  “For killing and surviving harsh environments. Simply put, I was born to be a soldier.”

  Digging up old wounds, spilling bitter memories with liquor’s courage, Edes gave a wry smile as Lils nodded knowingly.

  “My options to avoid the undercity: become a soldier or rot in a so-called reform facility. Funny, but I was thrilled. Even a screw-up like me had a purpose, a job to survive. But…”

  “Reality wasn’t so kind,” Lils said.

  “Exactly.”

  Silence fell over the noisy diner. Edes, face like he’d bitten a bitter bug, rubbed his stubble. Eve, seeing her father in him, caught her breath.

  “They say life’s a series of choices, but I think it’s trampling others’ lives, their possibilities. ‘All for one, one for all’—nice words, but people walk their path for themselves. Mid-level city’s got power struggles, survival games. The bottom pulls down the top, the top kicks down the bottom.”

  “…”

  “Humans are selfish, exclusionary creatures. Raw emotions, burning desires, sacrificing others to live. Order and law are cages; reason and wisdom, collars and chains. To cage the beast within, we define ‘human,’ curbing runaway egoism.”

  “So you think it’s normal for humans to live selfishly, trampling others?” Lils asked.

  Downing his beer, Edes brushed off her sharp gaze.

  “Not far off, miss.”

  Snapping his fingers, he ordered another beer from Mrs. Irene.

  “For an undercity girl, you’re sharp—too sharp. Respectable, thinking that clearly here. But what I’m saying is simple, straightforward.”

  “What’s that?”

  “It’s okay to live humanly.”

  “…”

  Eve’s gaze locked onto Edes, awaiting his next words.

  “Miss, I hate words like self-sacrifice or duty—they make me sick. But I respect a heart that wants to achieve something, even at the cost of everything. Not a role or mission imposed by others, but what you scream to accomplish—that’s the truest way to live. Don’t you think?”

  “Sorry—” Edes lit a cigarette, winking at Stella, flipping his Zippo. Sparks flew, the wick burned, purple smoke curled. Looking up, he said, “Follow your heart. That’s my advice.”

  Drawing smoke rings in the air.

  Living humanly is fine—a beautiful string of words, easily swallowed.

  But how many truly live humanly in this sealed tower world? Last century, wars turned Earth to wasteland; survivors fled to arks, boring into the crust to preserve the species.

  Eve knew humans as those she lived with in the ruined ark. Tower intruders were enemies, thieves stealing ark tech, targets for elimination. Not a tomb keeper by choice, she saw outsiders as vermin, dust forgetting their sins.

  Kill, ignore their cries, shake blood from silver wings. Facing tower-discarded killing machines or bioweapons, she read tower data from sparking circuits or genetic code, fueling her rage.

  No one lived humanly. All chased egoism, cloaking altruism in pretty words. Like whites persecuted Native Americans, or blacks cornered whites citing past wrongs—living humanly began with trampling others’ dignity. History repeated, endlessly.

  No need for pretty phrases or human hymns—mere illusions. Combat was human instinct, survival etched in genes to devour others. Philosophers ate meat with knife and fork; dreamers tore bread from plants. Believing only themselves right, condemning others, beaten by their own enemies, yet denying fault. Evading punishment, wearing sin, birthing evil—that’s humanity, a species with collective mental dysfunction.

  Grand words were unbearable, gilded lies nauseating. Monks fathered children, cloaking Buddha’s will in lies to ensnare women and kids. Nuns and priests indulged in debauchery, hinting at God—historical facts. Living humanly was too harsh; a life bound by restraint was a living hell humans couldn’t endure.

  Yet, under the dim lamp, watching Edes stroke his stubble, exhaling smoke, Eve nodded slightly, finding some truth in his words.

  How could humans, flawed genetically and mentally, live humanly? He’d answered that eternal question simply.

  Follow your heart. Clear, truthful words. Some might tilt their heads, but Edes’s words pointed to a path and held the depth of an endless sea.

  Following your heart seemed simple but was profoundly difficult. One person’s thoughts, swayed by others’ words, shifted like stars in a geometric night sky. Even resolved, advice or manipulation could change your mind, leading to different choices, different ends. Thus, it was hard, harsh.

  No sage, hero, or brave could find a mirror to reflect themselves without others. Arrogant rulers saw distorted selves in cracked mirrors. True self-knowers were often villains—murderers, cult leaders, guerrillas, terrorists—embracing absolute egoism, their gods residing in thoughts purged of humility.

  Only villains housed gods, holding mirrors to their humanity. Then what were history’s greats, if not human? Eve’s prismatic eyes fixed on Edes, brushing away purple smoke. “You say follow your heart, but have you ever followed your true self?”

  “Me? Who knows,” Edes said.

  “Answer.”

  “Quiet before, now pressing, huh, miss? Did I strike a nerve?”

  “…”

  Eve fell silent as Edes sighed, flicking ash into the tray. The tense silence, like a standoff, broke with sparks from his Zippo.

  “Following your heart means losing things; ignoring it gains others. Just a middle-aged man’s ramblings—call it nonsense if you want.”

  A new cigarette lit, thin purple smoke rising.

  “It’s about what you want, what your heart screams. Say you want to escape reality, but your heart says fight. If escaping saves something dearer than life, that’s your right choice.”

  “…”

  “To gain a better tomorrow, you flee, turning from hardship. Not taking the easy way, knowing pain persists, I chose to flee. Miss Eve, does that seem like living humanly?”

  “That’s…”

  What was it? Lips sealed, foot in thought’s mire, Eve touched her chin, pondering.

  Edes spoke of choice interpretation—humanity shaped by outcomes. Facing loss if he fought, he turned from hardship. From personal happiness, hope, or cost-benefit, it was self-interest. But Edes, seen through a human lens, posed a question defying that logic.

  He urged following the heart yet plugged his ears to its screams. By his logic, that was inhuman. Yet, fleeing shaped him, letting him offer advice now—a facet of living humanly.

  Life’s path, wide yet converging, crossed others’ choices, crushing their will, treading a thorny road. Had he followed his heart, this moment’s intersection would vanish, leading elsewhere. Thus, living humanly, following the heart, seemed multifaceted.

  “…Maybe,” Eve said.

  “…”

  “You might’ve chosen wrong, or right. Following your heart, we might not have met. Edes… are you lying to yourself?”

  “I like sharp, wise girls,” he said.

  “Don’t dodge.”

  “Not dodging. You’re kinda right.”

  “Then—!”

  “Even if it’s fake, a lie, even if I didn’t follow my heart, giving advice to you young folk gives my choices meaning. Miss Eve, living humanly is tough. Alone, I wouldn’t grasp the meaning of defying my heart or find a mirror. So… over time, I need others to hear my choices, to check if I lived humanly. Right, Miss Eve?”