I stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped in steam.
Skin still warm from the shower.
Kiara had a holoscreen open.
She shut it off quickly when she saw me.
"That was a long shower."
Same casual tone.
I smiled back—
not wanting to extend the conversation.
She sprawled across the sofa.
One leg over the other.
Relaxed.
More and more familiar.
The thought came, inevitable:
There was something about her—
a way of existing—
that reminded me of Maia.
I lay down on the bed.
The mattress absorbed the weight of the past few days.
Exhaustion swallowed me whole.
No thoughts formed.
I blacked out.
Slept like stone.
S-2879 • L9 Fluxluna • D00 Silensi
"Fluxluna opens the current of beginning. Silensi anchors zero in gentle light. The tide draws a map in dark blue. The story enters a crystalline flow."
Breakfast was quiet.
I chose something simple, with my Inner Elder gently receding.
I sat on the sofa and looked at Kiara.
She spoke first.
Perhaps reading my unease.
"Ask whatever you want.
Silence is the only guarantee."
My hands tightened into fists over my knees.
I organized my thoughts.
Chose my words carefully.
The image of the girl being shot twisted inside me.
"W-why… so many children?"
Kiara shrugged.
Neutral expression.
"When someone is shaped by an idea—
when that life is all they know—
they learn to accept it.
To follow orders.
It's easier with children.
Children are blank pages."
"B-but…"
I swallowed.
It made sense.
A painful kind of sense.
I had been shaped by an ideal too.
Taught to follow.
To obey hierarchy.
But the difference between me and those children—
was immeasurable.
In Zenith, my life was never at risk.
I had rights.
Comfort.
Safety.
And them?
What could I even do?
"Cron mentioned a favor.
What is that?"
I changed the subject.
Trying to understand that world.
Kiara gestured.
"Everyone clings to something.
An idea. A belief. An object.
Everyone.
Cron had the worst kind.
A person."
She looked straight at me.
"In this life, you have to be alone.
Because if they're after you—
they'll go after your ties too."
The truth echoed.
Cruel.
Their lives were disturbing—
but they were still beings.
With sensations.
Perceptions.
Inner worlds.
Blaming them would mean ignoring what shaped them.
"And…"
I cleared my throat.
"What are all these mercenary classes?"
"Up to nine," she said, like reciting something old.
"At the top—Aurum class.
They rank mercenaries based on their ability to complete contracts."
"And the Matriarch… and the Father?"
My voice dropped.
Careful.
Kiara's lips tightened.
Silence.
"We should stop here.
We've got a heavy seluna ahead."
I understood.
An answer wrapped in veils.
For later.
S-2879 • L9 Fluxluna • D02 Silenli
"Fluxluna ignites the current of beginning. Silenli radiates light in a short thread. The tide maps the air. The story weaves a luminous step."
Our meeting with the Matriarch would take place in Ritli.
Kiara suggested a bar.
I hesitated.
Then accepted.
Something inside me was… curious.
We arrived at AndroLounge.
Lights pulsed like living waves.
Neon explosion—
electric blue, ethereal pink, luminous green—
dancing across metallic walls.
Bass vibrated through the floor.
Voices—mercenaries, androids.
Heated metal and alcohol filled the air.
Tables scattered.
Three bars surrounding a central floor.
Nanodrones hummed—
delivering drinks in rhythm.
We chose a quieter corner.
The table interface flickered.
Requested our orders.
"Gin and tonic," I said.
Kiara—
"DroidDraft is a plugin.
It lets our nanosystem feel alcohol like you do."
"That's… new to me."
I smiled, shy.
Soon after
Two mercenaries approached.
Kalifa.
Class 7.
Long dreads.
Amber eyes.
A presence like a tiger.
Tribal tattoos across her arms and neck.
Pupils split vertically.
Beside her—
Thabo.
Also Class 7.
Long blond braids.
Dark, intense eyes.
Neon-gray tattoos across his face.
A small monkey prosthetic rested on his shoulder.
"Kiara."
Thabo greeted.
"Mind if we join you?"
"Go ahead."
They pulled chairs.
Sat down.
"What brings you to the Center?" he asked.
The interface lit again.
They ordered vodka.
Pure.
Mercenary preference.
"I know," he continued.
"The contract. Everyone's talking about it."
"That's all they talk about," Kalifa said.
"No one knows where the target is."
"They said the last signal was in Santos," Thabo added.
"Then nothing.
And they called it easy?"
He frowned.
"Remember the last high-value contract?
What—27 million?"
Kiara shrugged.
Our drinks arrived.
They glanced at mine.
"Rare to see a mercenary drink anything but vodka," Thabo noted.
"She's not from Nobody's Land," Kiara replied.
Their expressions softened.
"How was your last mission?" she asked.
They exchanged a look.
Laughed.
"Where do I start?"
Thabo leaned forward.
"We were sent to Nkayi.
Republic of Congo.
The Shells—a rebel group—were planning a kill.
The nationalist representative in Bouenza."
"But you sympathized with them," Kiara said.
He grinned.
"Exactly."
"The contract was to eliminate their leader.
Latasha. 'Blade of Justice.'
But Kalifa…"
He smirked.
"She fell for her."
Kalifa smacked him.
He laughed.
"She was strong.
Like me."
Kalifa rolled her eyes.
"You'd have to be… to tolerate you."
Another smack.
I laughed softly.
Kalifa smiled—dangerous.
"What's stopping me from crushing your skull right now?"
She mimed it.
"Brains everywhere."
"Your love for me, obviously."
Kiara cut in:
"Continue."
Thabo resumed.
"We infiltrated the fortress.
Through a pipeline into the river.
Kalifa and Latasha cleared the guards.
I set my mini bombs."
His eyes lit up.
Manic.
"It was beautiful.
Everything exploded."
"Latasha was fierce," Kalifa said.
"She drove a spear through his heart."
Her eyes gleamed.
"And the reward?" Kiara asked.
Kalifa shook her head.
"Some things matter more than money."
"Ever had missions like that with Maia?" Thabo asked.
Kiara laughed.
"All the time. You know how she was."
Kalifa nodded.
"I liked her."
My stomach twisted.
Her name echoed—
like something still alive.
Kiara noticed my discomfort—
said nothing.
The conversation drifted—
Lagos, Kinshasa, wars, regimes.
Histories soaked in blood.
The night deepened.
Stories layered over drinks.
Until finally—
we left.
Verdant Suites
I went straight to bed.
A quiet sadness surfaced.
Maia's name still echoing.
"Thank you, Kiara."
My voice trembled.
Holding back tears.
"I imagine it's hard… hearing about her," she said softly.
I swallowed.
A single tear slipped through.
The truth was—
every mention of Maia hurt.
When I met people who knew her—
I resisted asking.
Because I knew—
I would never know that version of her from her.
I gathered myself.
Turned to Kiara.
Forced a small smile.
"It is… a little.
But I want to know everything I can about her."
I took a breath.
Even if it meant hearing things—
that would hurt to accept.