December 10th, 2134
A snowy land.
Sky and earth become one.
In the distance, a forest of tundra firs rises.
From it, the lone grey she-wolf appears.
I feel her amber eyes on me, calling.
I try to reach her.
I can't.
I want to.
I need to.
My whole body pulses with longing.
Every attempt fails.
Every failure, a violent ache.
It hurts not to reach her.
I cry.
I wake.
The clock read three in the morning.
Was she calling me to the other world?
Through the window, the city shimmered.
Lights blurred by the damp glass.
Rain fell in a chaotic weave,
mirroring my own chaos.
She, a breath of spring in autumn,
yet could be winter itself.
A year without her.
A year in which the skies grieve,
the winds scream in agony,
the earth fades,
and I numb myself.
Since her death, the numbness never left.
I turned away from the window.
Would it be selfish to feel so unhappy,
knowing many would trade places with me?
I sighed.
Went back to sleep.
I lived on the uppermost floors of São Paulo.
The First City.
I was born in Zenith—as they call the top levels;
a suspended empire above the city,
where sunlight never touches the streets below.
To live always in the heights made the fall inevitable.
I put on a black coat.
Took the elevator down to reception.
The receptionist android, Andi,
wished me good morning.
I nodded back.
Passed by the old man wandering the atrium—Pavel.
An android engineer from Kokusai.
I saw him often and always greeted him.
He never replied.
His face: expressionless.
I headed to the Golden Line station.
The aerotrain arrived within seconds.
I sat by the window.
The city stretched below me.
Titanic structures vanished into polluted mist.
Spirals of airways wove between buildings.
Vertical skyscrapers, wrapped in hanging gardens.
Holograms burst in all directions.
Adwares bloomed mid-air without warning:
A new android.
A revolutionary synthetic protein.
I opened the bioscreen to read the news.
Nothing caught my eye.
I turned back to the glass.
The hospital appeared on the horizon.
Its mirrored surface reflected the neutral tones around it.
At the entrance, my android assistant, Takashi,awaited me.
"Good morning, Doctor."
"Morning."
I worked on a nanodevice: CogniSynth.
Part of Project Jaburu.
A nanotechnology designed to access human memories.
Memories…
Too many memories.
The day dragged on.
Each minute, a battle.
Each second, an agonizing effort to keep her out of my mind.
But she always returned.
Always her.
Always Maia.
She invaded.
Relentless.
Broke through walls.
Stayed.
All I wished was for night to end the day.
To take everything with it.
That dawn might bring forgetting.
Perhaps tomorrow, it'll be easier to breathe.
I finished my shift.
Gathered my things to leave.
Takashi approached, holding a wide envelope in his hands,
labeled in a slanted, elegant script.
Her handwriting.
"This arrived."
My chest froze.
My hands trembled.
My mouth went dry.
My eyes widened.
My heart raced.
My thoughts unraveled in maddened pulses.
I took the envelope.
"Tha…"
My voice broke.
"…nk you."
"Do you need anything else?"
"N-no… I… y-you can go."
The door shut.
I tore the seal.
Something fell.
A red phone.
Foldable. Obsolete.
A pocket watch.
Analog. From the 1980s.
A golden compass.
And a piece of paper.
Geographical coordinates.
What did it mean?
I picked up the letter.
Just a few words, but enough to split my world apart.
Tight chest.
Eyes flooded with tears.
I could barely hold the paper.
Akiko,How are you?Perhaps your anger and sorrow have faded.I hope they have.So many things were left unsaid.I know.Your heart broke.Mine did too.I never wanted things to end this way.So, I prepared this.You've always wanted to enter my world?All your questions will be answered.Are you ready for that?If you are, go to the coordinates this Sunday at 11 p.m.If not, continue on your path.Remember me always.With love,Maia
I lost all strength.
The letter slipped from my hands.
My body collapsed.
I stared at my warped reflection in the gleaming surface.
Everything spun.
I forgot how to breathe.
In those words, I heard her voice.
Heard my name in her mouth.
Even after a year apart, I still felt my threads tied to hers.
It took a while to return.
To catch my breath.
To feel the present again.
The tears dried.
My fingers stopped trembling.
I picked up the objects.
Studied the coordinates.
Placed them in my bag.
Only the letter remained.
I sighed deeply.
Picked it up.
That night, I had the same dream.
This time, when I took a step, the she-wolf raised her head.
But she was still too far away.
The next day
I wished I could sleep through the entire day.
I reread Maia's letter a thousand times.
Tried to understand.
Why?
Why send this after a whole year?
Maia was dead.
I knew that.
So what did she mean by that letter?
How did she send it?
I messaged Takashi:
📩 "Find out who sent the white envelope."
I made some food, though I wasn't hungry.
Even swallowing felt like a task.
I stayed in bed, numb.
Staring at the wall.
I thought about Maia.
In truth, I couldn't think about anything else.
My mind wouldn't stop.
It throbbed with the pain reborn.
I wanted to forget.
I took a deep breath.
As the saying goes:
"No one can be wise on an empty stomach."
I ate.
And in the very next moment, the memory came.
The day I met her.
The memory hit like a tidal wave,
consuming me whole,
crashing through any will to stop it.