Long stepped off the pier with a worn burlap bag slung over his shoulder. After a week adrift at sea with Dreamy, he looked exhausted and hollow with hunger. But the moment he lifted his eyes, the sight before him made him forget everything.
The city of Puresight shimmered like something out of a dream.
Driverless cars glided along polished streets, weaving around obstacles with effortless precision, like dancers following silent music. Overhead, delivery bats zipped through the sky, their mechanical wings humming as they carried sparkling parcels to unseen destinations. Everywhere he looked, the world gleamed with innovation.
Long's mouth fell open.
Elegant young women strolled past, accompanied by astonishing AI Witches — a blazing phoenix with feathers of living flame, a talkative calico cat trotting proudly at its owner's heels, even a floating pink bow that chattered nonstop in a high, sugary voice. The skyscrapers were built of adaptive glass, their surfaces shifting tint to welcome or soften the sunlight at will.
It was modern.
It was magical.
It was nothing like the world Long had known.
Then his stomach growled.
Reality returned.
He followed the warm scent of fresh bread to a nearby bakery.
The door slid open with a cheerful chime. LED strips curved into the shape of a smiling face.
"Welcome! Please come in and try our bread!" the automated voice chimed brightly.
Inside stood a middle-aged shop owner beside an AI Witch shaped like an adorable donut. The donut raised its tiny sprinkle-covered arms, and instantly dozens of holographic loaves appeared, rotating slowly in the air like part of a magic show — golden baguettes, fluffy milk buns, glossy pastries dusted with sugar.
"Please make your selection," the owner said confidently.
Long swallowed.
His fingers tightened around his bag. Inside were only a few lonely blue EN coins. They lay there, cold and insufficient.
Would it even be enough for one loaf?
He pointed to the cheapest option — a simple round loaf, steam rising from its holographic image.
And then—
Whoosh!
A small blur shot past him, snatched the bread from the counter, and bolted out the door like a gust of wind.
"Hey!" Long shouted.
He dashed after the thief, Dreamy at his side, leaving the stunned shop owner and spinning donut behind.
The thief was just a child — eight, maybe nine years old. He ran astonishingly fast, his tattered shirt fluttering behind him as he darted into a narrow alley.
He moved like he knew the place.
But Long wasn't about to lose him.
"Dreamy! Block the path!"
Dreamy's golden eyes flashed.
A shimmering blue shield materialized ahead in the alley, rippling like liquid glass.
Thud!
The boy crashed into it and tumbled backward, rolling once before landing hard on the ground. A red bump formed instantly on his forehead.
There was a brief silence.
Then he burst into tears.
Long stopped short.
*Why is he crying?
"Hey! Stealing's not okay, you know that!" Long called out. "Whose kid are you? Why are you stealing from people?"
The boy looked up at him, eyes wide with panic — and cried even louder.
Long frowned, confused. Something felt… off.
And then, suddenly, the crying stopped.
The boy's watery eyes flicked sideways.
A spark of mischief flashed within them.
Before Long could react, the boy lunged forward and kicked him sharply in the ankle.
Pain shot up Long's leg.
"Ow! What was that for?!" he yelped, stumbling to the ground.
The boy grinned triumphantly, clutching the bread to his chest, and took off again.
Long scrambled to his feet, furious, and resumed the chase.
He let out a sharp whistle.
"Dreamy!"
Dreamy ran beside him, his dark eyes still glowing faintly.
"I regret to inform you," he said in his usual calm tone, "that my magical energy is depleted. I require additional EN to continue."
Long nearly choked.
"We don't have any EN!"
"Understood," Dreamy replied smoothly. "In that case, please continue running."
Long ground his teeth and kept sprinting.
It wasn't just about the bread anymore.
There was something in that boy's eyes — something painfully familiar. Fear. Defiance. Hunger. Loneliness.
Long didn't understand it fully, but he knew one thing:
He had to talk to him.
Eventually, the boy's steps faltered. His breathing grew ragged. He stumbled, swayed—
—and collapsed.
Long rushed forward and caught up at last.
He bent over, hands on his knees, gasping for air.
"You're… ridiculously fast," he muttered between breaths.
The boy didn't answer.
He stared at Long, terror filling his eyes. Then, suddenly, he pressed both hands tightly over his ears, as if trying to block out unbearable noise. His face twisted in distress.
He staggered upright, legs trembling.
And then—
A voice cut through the alley.
"What are you doing to that child?"
Long turned.
A girl stood at the entrance of the alley, about his age. Her long blonde hair fell in soft waves over a tailored vest coat. She carried a sleek, modern sword — shaped almost like an antenna — its metallic surface glinting in the light.
Her posture was flawless.
Her eyes were sharp as blades.
"Leave him alone," she said firmly, stepping forward.
Then her expression softened as she looked at the boy.
"Kiet, are you okay?"
Her hands moved quickly, gracefully — forming deliberate gestures in the air.
Long froze.
The pieces clicked together.
The boy wasn't ignoring him.
He wasn't mocking him.
He couldn't hear him.
Oh…
*He's deaf.