Chapter 163: The Dome and the Void
Kai sat alone on the terrace, a solitary figure silhouetted against the vast, night. The cool, recycled air of Elora City was a constant, subtle reminder that the environment around him was meticulously manufactured. In his hand, a bottle of beer dangled loosely from his fingers, its condensation a cold, damp anchor to the present. This had become his ritual, his only solace—staring into the cosmos, trying to find a fragment of peace in the endless, star-dusted blackness.
It was a paradox, he often thought. They lived in a city floating in the infinite, star-filled expanse of space. One would expect a perpetual, breathtaking view of the universe. Yet, it was not so. The entire city was encased within a gargantuan dome made of a clever, glass-like transparent material. During the designated "day" cycle, this material would project a simulated Earth-like sky—a soft blue with gentle, moving clouds, a psychological comfort for its predominantly human population, a nostalgic mimicry of the homeworld many had never even seen. It was an attempt to replicate the environment humanity had evolved in, even though Nova Lumina , Alora city and many other like itself was a colossal feat of engineering, dwarfing Old Earth in both scale and technological marvel.
But at "night," the dome performed its true magic. It would become perfectly, utterly transparent, revealing the unfiltered, awe-inspiring spectacle of the cosmos. This was the moment Kai waited for. The moment the artificial day faded, and the real universe, in all its silent, majestic glory, was laid bare before him.
He took a long, slow pull from his bottle, his eyes tracing the faint, swirling arm of a distant galaxy. He let out a deep, weary sigh, a sound that seemed to carry the weight of all his recent losses and grim acceptances. In these quiet moments, he tried to wring every drop of tranquility he could from the view, a fleeting balm for his frayed spirit.
Suddenly, he felt a familiar weight on his shoulder. He turned his head to see Moon's hand resting there. His eyes then dropped to the bottle in Moon's other hand, and a flicker of genuine confusion passed over his face.
"Since when did you start consuming alcohol?" Kai asked, his voice rough from disuse. "I thought you hated the taste."
Moon brought his own bottle into the light. "Look closely," he said, his tone even. "It's just apple juice."
With that, he moved to the adjacent bean bag and settled into it with a soft sigh, the fabric conforming to his shape. He too turned his gaze upwards, towards the breathtaking panorama of limitless stars and swirling, billion-strong galaxies. For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The shared silence was more comfortable, more understanding, than any words could be.
Then, in unison, they both took a sip.
Sip.
Kai from his beer, the bitter hops a stark contrast to the silent beauty above.
Sip.
Moon from his juice, the simple, sweet flavor a small, deliberate act of normalcy.
Two brothers, under a manufactured sky that showed them the true face of infinity, drinking in the view and the silence, together.
The chime of Kai's alarm sliced through the silence of the apartment at precisely 7:00 AM. His eyes snapped open, not with the groggy reluctance of a man roused from deep sleep, but with the instant, hyper-aware clarity of a soldier. He was already swinging his legs out of bed before the second chime could sound. He didn't need to check the time; his internal clock, honed by a lifetime of discipline and recent paranoia, was rarely off by more than a few seconds. He moved to Moon's door, rapping on it twice, sharply. There was no verbal response, but he heard the immediate shift in breathing from within, followed by the soft rustle of sheets. The message was received.
Within the hour, they were both ready. There were no words exchanged about the grim nature of their new employment. It was simply the next objective. They dressed in the same functional, unremarkable clothes from the day before. The journey to Mountbatten Bank was a silent, focused repetition of the previous day's route.
This time, they were not directed to the gleaming upper floors or the sterile interview rooms. A security bot escorted them down a discreet elevator to the Lower Ground floor. The atmosphere here was different. The air was cooler, carrying a faint, metallic tang. The lighting was harsher, fluorescent strips illuminating reinforced concrete walls and heavy, soundproofed doors. This was the operational heart of the bank's less public-facing endeavors.
They stood at attention before Director Shale's desk, which was a monolithic slab of polished black stone here, far removed from the minimalist elegance of her upstairs office.
"Good. You are both very punctual, Mr. Lunaris and Mr. Caelith," Shale stated, her voice echoing slightly in the spartan room. Her compliment was a statement of fact, not praise.
Kai and Moon gave a simultaneous, curt nod of acknowledgment.
As if on cue, a door to their left hissed open. A woman stepped through, and the very air in the room seemed to shift. She appeared to be in her late thirties, roughly the same biological age as Kai and Moon. But in this era, where advanced technology and the pervasive, life-extending essence particles leaked by high-level hunters had pushed the average human lifespan past 500 years, 39 was considered exceptionally young—barely out of adolescence.
This woman, however, possessed a beauty that was anything than adolescent. It was a weapon. While Ruby and Minji were beautiful in a way that inspired awe or admiration, this woman's beauty was of a different, more primal order. It was a succubus's allure, designed to bypass reason and tap directly into the deepest, most carnal desires. From her perfectly sculpted features to the hypnotic sway of her walk, every detail seemed calculated to provoke a raw, instinctual reaction.
The effect was immediate, a physiological shockwave. Yet, in both Kai and Moon, it met a fortress wall. Their wills, tempered to an unimaginable hardness by the constant, soul-rending pain of their reanimation abilities and a lifetime of surviving brutal hardship, activated instantly. It was not a conscious fight; it was an automatic, deeply ingrained defense mechanism. A flicker of something—acknowledgment, perhaps—crossed their eyes, and was just as swiftly suppressed, locked away behind a disciplined, impenetrable calm. Their postures did not waver; their breathing remained even.
Director Shale watched this silent interplay with a keen, analytical eye. "Meet your principal," she said, gesturing to the woman. "This is Lisa Mingrui. She is one of our best debt extraction officers. You will be her personal security detail."
Moon and Kai turned their gaze to Lisa, their expressions neutral, professional, and utterly unreadable.
It was Kai who broke the silence, his voice level and respectful. "May I ask a question, ma'am?"
"Go ahead," Shale replied.
Kai's eyes, still bearing the faint shadows of his sleepless nights, met Shale's. "You are assigning two newly hired bodyguards to your top debt extraction officer. Isn't that an exceptionally high risk?"
For the first time, a flicker of something other than stern authority crossed Shale's face—a hint of impersonal bureaucratic reality. "I don't make those decisions. The higher-ups allocate personnel. They have their metrics for who is assigned to whom."
Kai absorbed this. The answer was unsatisfactory, implying they were either considered expendable pawns or there was a logic at play far beyond their current understanding. He knew pressing further was futile. He simply nodded. "Understood."
With that, the brief meeting was concluded. They were dismissed for the day, told that their proper induction and first assignment would come tomorrow. They had been summoned merely for an introduction, a basic orientation to the labyrinth they were now meant to navigate. As they rode the elevator back up to the main level, the silence between them was heavy with unspoken questions. The game was beginning, and their first move had been to stand face-to-face with a living temptation and not flinch. It was a small victory, but in the world they were entering, it might be the only kind they would get.
To be continued…