S-2879 • L10 Tramaluna • D19 Unabe
"Tramaluna threads the sky in a watchful line.
Unabe ignites the axis in descending light.
The tide draws its route in living silver.
The story moves forward, steady, certain."
"Hey."
Kiara woke me.
It took me a moment to surface.
I realized I had drooled a little and wiped my cheek.
Shook my head.
Felt like a truck had run over me.
"You know that you…"
She flashed a mocking grin.
"…talk in your sleep?"
My eyes widened.
"What did I say?"
Her smile stretched.
"Fragments. 'Why do you do this?'
You said 'Maia' a few times."
Heat rushed to my face.
Shit.
That was ridiculous.
I ran a hand through my hair, trying to play it off.
"Never bring that up again. Please."
Great.
What was I even supposed to blame?
Synaptic-V?
God… embarrassing.
"Nothing leaves my mouth."
She mimed sealing her lips.
When we landed, Kiara adjusted the rifle on her strap, checked her revolvers, and tightened the blade on her wrist.
I put on my mask.
She told me to configure my biochip to warm the suit.
The heat stayed on the surface—useless against the Russian winter.
Minus thirty degrees Celsius.
"Ready?"
I had to be.
I took a deep breath.
Whatever came, it would come.
I would go through it.
I nodded.
"Let's go."
Her confidence was sharp.
She opened the door.
A brutal wave of cold wrapped around us.
A blizzard swallowed everything.
Sky and ground—indistinguishable white.
Every step was a fight.
The wind roared, merciless, pushing us back.
Kiara moved ahead with precision.
I tried to match her pace.
We reached a closed establishment.
I paused, dragging air into my lungs.
First time facing a winter like that.
Freezing from the inside out.
Even with the mask, the air scraped my throat raw.
The body trying to learn the cold.
Kiara showed a holopass to an android.
Then—
The ground trembled.
I grabbed the counter, scanning for the source.
A few meters ahead, the floor split open.
A mechanical mouth.
A white vehicle rose from beneath.
Perfectly camouflaged in snow.
"Spasibo," Kiara said.
We got in.
Even with nanoelectromagnetic heating, the trip to Salekhard dragged on—almost two hours.
Through glimpses of Moscow, I caught sight of the Red Bastion.
Fortified.
Color cutting through endless pale.
Later, we approached Salekhard.
Nature had reclaimed everything.
Buildings. Vehicles. Structures.
Ruins piled across the landscape.
A gray, dirty mist hovered above the district.
"What happened here?" I asked.
The devastation hit hard.
"Kemetia bombed this district in 2795. R-ATOM.
Everyone died that day.
Radiation spread for kilometers—reached central Moscow.
Fucking tragedy.
These days, radiation's lower.
Only criminals and outcasts live here.
For the Russian people… this is a cemetery.
And it demands respect."
The air felt heavy.
Echoes of death embedded in it.
Every ruin whispered pain.
I had studied those attacks.
Felt distant then.
Now—
It was real.
Too easy for those in power to destroy everything just to stay on top.
The weight pressed into my chest.
A chill ran down my spine.
Not just the cold.
Something deeper.
Like old voices still lingered.
I hoped whoever had walked that ground had found peace.
"We're here."
Kiara pulled me out of it.
We stepped out.
My legs felt heavy.
Each step slower than the last.
My fingers tingled inside the gloves.
Beyond the cold—
exhaustion.
Something internal.
Draining.
We stopped in front of a concrete building overrun with vines.
Kiara grimaced.
"Seriously… of all people."
I frowned.
"What are you—"
A figure moved through the storm.
A shadow against the blizzard.
Predatory posture.
I narrowed my eyes.
The snow made it hard to see.
Then—
Green eyes cut through the storm like blades.
Sharp. Dangerous.
Carrying something… beyond human.
An eagle.
"What the hell are you doing here?!" she snapped, heavy Russian accent.
Black mask.
Dark brown hair, messy, tied into a braided ponytail.
Defined, tattooed arms—bare despite the cold.
Dirty white tank top.
Military pants and boots.
Two bandanas tied at her waist—pink and pastel blue.
A sniper rifle in her hands.
In front of us:
Trix.Mercenary leader.Cyborg.24 cycles.
Twenty-four?!
I almost stepped back.
Held my ground.
Showing weakness here—
was a mistake.
Trix laughed.
"So tell me—"
"Tell you what, huh, fucker?" Kiara snapped, jaw tight.
Trix's eyes flickered purple.
"Who's this?"
"My apprentice."
"Did Saymon send you?"
"If he didn't, I'd be at a spa, right?" Kiara shot back.
Her shoulders hardened.
Something deeper moved behind her eyes.
Trix smiled.
Like she saw it.
All of it.
"Whatever. Come."
She turned toward the building.
Kiara followed.
I went after her.
Uneasy.
Inside—
A ruined hotel lobby.
Dust. Broken furniture.
Counters. Chairs. A piano.
Vases worn down by time.
And—
A girl.
Heavy winter clothes.
Rosy cheeks.
Blue eyes.
Long, carefully kept brown hair.
Sitting on the first step of a half-collapsed staircase.
Delicate.
Like porcelain.
Like she could break with a touch.
Trix leaned against a cracked pillar.
"I think I know why he sent you.
Only you could handle this."
"Alright. What's going on?" Kiara pressed.
"You can't walk two meters without someone trying to grab this little beauty."
She gestured toward the girl.
"Hey. I have a name. It's Anichka."
Her voice was thin.
Sharp.
"Shut the fuck up!" Trix snapped.
"That voice tears through my nerves.
She just keeps talking.
Look, Kiki—your presence here is my best birthday gift."
Kiki?
Birthday?
My thoughts slowed.
Something in me said—
wait.
Watch.
Anichka frowned.
Her thin fingers clutched a worn necklace.
A small glass pendant swayed.
A fragile piece of beauty in the wreckage.
I stepped back a little.
My head wasn't in a good place.
"Spit it out," Kiara said.
Trix smiled with her eyes.
"That's exactly it.
Something about her is broadcasting our location."
"Stop saying that," Anichka snapped.
Kiara's expression shifted.
Understanding.
Trix crossed her arms.
"Vorovskoy mir wants her."
My heart slammed.
The storm outside felt colder.
Louder.
The blizzard roared—
like it wanted to swallow everything.
Vorovskoy mir.
So that was it.