S-2876 • L3 Sintoluna • D28 Silente
"Sintoluna tunes the final thread of the sky. Silente pours luminous quiet. The tide gathers silver in a gentle curve. The narrative senses a portal opening."
They reached Trindade Island.
Dead of night.
The sea was restless.
A creeping fog crawled across the island, wrapping it like a specter.
They anchored in the cove.
The boat was hidden among the rocks.
Nanocamouflage activated.
The vessel became invisible to nanoradars.
One with the darkness.
Saymon carried a backpack.
Hikaru carried Tanu.
Both wore nanosuits composed of q-nanites.
Nanofabrics shaped by the ingenuity of Regnant Maia.
They descended through a retractable ramp.
Their feet sank into the wet stones.
They moved through the uneven terrain.
Treacherous rocks.
Low foliage.
Nanocameras hidden among branches.
Silhouettes lurking between the cliffs.
Hikaru powered Tanu on.
The raccoon-dog blinked his lights and stretched.
"Idiot. Took you days to turn me on."
The robotic voice came out thin and grumpy.
He shook himself.
Adjusted his sweater.
His eyes lit up.
Then he stared Saymon up and down.
His snout twisted.
"Who's this moron?"
"Quiet, Tanu. We're infiltrating that mansion."
Hikaru's voice came out calm.
Subtle waves rang through the air.
And through Saymon.
The mercenary focused on the robot.
Tanu crossed his tiny mechanical arms.
"Idiot can't even say hello."
His ears twitched.
"I'll kill you all after this is over."
They moved forward.
Drones patrolled the skies.
Tanu projected a camouflaged nanoscreen.
They vanished into the environment.
Steep ground.
Dense vegetation.
Old trenches.
Mud-filled.
Remnants of a military past.
The tunnels had been reactivated.
Guard posts.
Guards.
Thermal sensors.
They heard footsteps.
Voices approaching.
They crawled.
Cold mud clung to Hikaru's suit.
"Always wanted to drag myself through mud? No," Tanu muttered.
He disabled sensors along the way.
"My master? Filthy."
The mansion rose at the top of the island.
Imposing.
Out of time.
A relic of the Italian Renaissance.
White marble columns.
Arched windows.
Ornamental sculptures.
Security towers emerged discreetly.
Tanu hacked the gates.
Codes released.
Temporary passage.
Suit systems engaged.
Tanu's protection.
They crossed the barriers.
Nanobarriers.
Thermal detectors.
Motion sensors.
Nanoalarms.
The entire fortress connected to the island's central AI.
Nothing detected them.
Dark marble floors reflected floating lights.
Leather armchairs decorated the luxurious hall.
Minimalist artworks lined the walls.
Holopaintings pulsed in display.
Saymon followed a discreet corridor.
Red carpets.
Crystal chandeliers.
A library.
The smell of old leather and polished wood.
He pulled one of the books.
The bookshelf rotated, revealing a hidden passage.
A narrow staircase.
Small embedded lights illuminated the steps.
A simple door.
Except for the sophisticated lock.
Saymon drew the Seven of Wands.
The card's pixels fused with the codes.
Shhhhhhh.
The lock groaned.
The door opened.
Darkness.
Reflective glass panels displayed holographic information.
Illegal transactions.
Espionage networks.
Complex financial schemes.
A large table.
Devices linked to the island's central server.
Saymon broke the silence.
"Take all the data you can."
He pulled several cans of black spray paint from his backpack.
Then began to move as if in a trance.
Every stroke of paint a calculated strike.
Hikaru frowned.
What the hell was this guy doing?
Intrigued, he connected Tanu to the power sources.
He plunged into the virtual.
Hours passed.
He discovered.
Lúcio Reis.
International Relations of UNITED in São Paulo.
A major figure.
But he found more.
Much more.
What would that man do with this information?
Who knew.
His body protested.
Muscles tense.
Bones aching.
His boiling brain melting.
But something else existed beyond exhaustion.
Something larger.
An oppressive sensation.
The air around him warped with the mind.
He turned.
Reality dissolved.
He felt unrest. Agony. Wonder. Passion. Anguish. Rage. Hatred. Fury. Revenge.
The room had been sealed.
Black.
Black dripping from the walls.
Running across the shelves.
Devouring the space.
Erratic strokes.
Violent.
Interwoven into chaotic patterns.
Grotesque figures emerged from the paint.
Distorted faces.
Twisted eyes.
Macabre creatures.
Claws extended.
Whirling spirals.
The world seemed to spin.
Dim lights created living shadows.
A hateful torment.
But it was more than the walls.
It was Saymon.
Every stroke a scar, a confession, an open wound.
Raw.
Bleeding.
The walls spoke.
The painting screamed a disturbing resonance.
The black vibrated a chaotic frequency in his mind.
The erratic lines of paint danced with Saymon's aura.
Hikaru struggled between wanting to look longer or fleeing the room.
He swallowed dry.
They left in silence.
Saymon.
Hikaru.
Tanu.
Night enveloped them.
Stealthy among the trees.
Yet the painting remained there.
The distorted faces.
The pulsing shadows.
And Hikaru felt that room inside him.
Still beating.
They reached the boat.
Hikaru cast a long look back at the island.
Waves struck the hull and the dark strokes vibrated behind his eyelids.
He wanted to ask.
But he didn't know if he wanted the answer.
"Idiot is doing—"
Tanu grumbled.
The robotic voice vanished.
Hikaru turned.
Saymon was there.
Face to face.
Warm breath brushing the nanoengineer's skin.
"Good kitty.
Time to sleep."