The maid guides the hooded group across the entire foyer until they reach a large hall lined with bookshelves overflowing with volumes. Pointing toward a staircase, she leads them upward. The youths and their master climb to the second floor, where several doors line the corridor. From above, they hear what sounds like music, so—with the warrior in front—they continue to the third floor.
There they find the blue-skinned being, barefoot, wearing a white shirt and jeans. He stands by the window, painting a canvas that immediately catches the blonde girl's attention. She studies the scene: a mountain, enormous trees, birds flying beneath a blazing sun. The two brown-haired youths glance aside, where a powerful classical melody pours from a set of speakers. Alexa enjoys the scent of burning candles and takes a seat on a long sofa beside a golden wooden desk.
None of the teenagers wants to interrupt Niter, so Jayden casually grabs a book from the desk and hurls it with force. It strikes the blue Oksilis squarely on the head. Rubbing the back of his neck, Niter hears Jayden say flatly:
"We're here to help you, not to be your idiotic audience."
The alien laughs and invites everyone to sit. He sets the painting by the window so the sunlight can dry it, then bows and takes his seat behind the desk. He notices the dark-skinned man gazing out at the city.
"I suppose you already informed your students, right?" Niter asks.
"No," Jayden replies. "That's your responsibility. As the highest rank on this mission, my duty is to observe. They'll do whatever work you assign."
Francesca (raising an eyebrow): "Why us? Why won't you do anything besides watch?"
Niter (serious): "She's right. They're only Students. They don't even have the experience to handle a task like this."
Jayden (still looking out the window): "That would be true if my brats were handling this alone. The difficulty is minimal for a Grand Master. But with me here, they're immediately qualified. I'm a Barrier—one of the highest ranks in the Society of Users. As long as I remain an observer, I'll only intervene in case of possible mass genocide. Everything else is theirs."
Niter (standing abruptly and slamming his desk): "You might be right, but they don't even have records! This is far too complex for a bunch of teenagers!"
Jayden (glancing at Alexa, Emily, Francesca, and Tyron with a faint smile): "Believe me—record or not, they're used to dealing with situations like the one you asked help for. Unless you'd rather go ask the Council of Masters? If so, we'll leave right now."
He turns toward the stairs.
The blue-skinned Oksilis exhales through the opening beneath his left shoulder, resigned.
"All right. Please, stay."
Jayden returns to the window. Niter gestures for the adolescents to sit in front of him. Emily and Alexa pull the sofa closer to the desk; the two brown-haired youths and the black-haired girl sit, while the blonde remains standing behind them.
Niter sighs heavily.
"As you may have noticed while walking through the city, my society suffers from a… small racism problem."
The blue-eyed girl immediately snaps back,
"Small? The entire city is built in tiers based on importance and skin color. Only an idiot would call that small."
Niter laughs, unable to deny it. Despite their advancements, his people are still ruled by something as barbaric as skin color. The boy with yellow-tipped hair and the green-eyed girl scratch the backs of their heads—they hadn't even noticed. The brown-haired girl nervously pats both of them on the shoulders.
At least two of them are perceptive, Niter thinks, then continues aloud:
"That's a problem, yes—but not why I called you. Oksilis grays have been disappearing at an alarming rate. It's very strange, because—"
The brown-haired girl interrupts,
"Our master already explained that skin color indicates psychic power and physical capability."
Niter (smiling): "That's true. Beyond that, grays face a major difficulty. Because their psychic capacity is low, they… well, how can I put this kindly? They can't properly use telekinesis, so they learn much more slowly. They only begin to communicate at what you'd consider adolescence."
Francesca (glancing at Alexa and Tyron): "So, in short, gray Oksilis lack intellectual capacity and can't perform anything beyond manual or physical labor."
Niter (serious): "Yes—though there are exceptions. Some grays are marked with red lines, indicating they can be useful in other services. Those individuals may access the red sector without needing a service ID like other grays."
Emily (intrigued): "So psychic power determines intellect? And skin color determines what jobs you're allowed to have?"
Niter: "Exactly. Reds, being physically stronger, handle security and often control gray groups. Blues and blacks, with greater psychic power, are allowed economic, artistic, academic, and cultural roles."
Francesca (raising an eyebrow): "Then who lives at the very top?"
Niter (sighing): "The Great Golden Oksilis—our governmental leader. He signs treaties with other interplanetary races and commands our war forces."
Alexa (standing): "I understand the grays' limitations—but does that mean they're treated like slaves?"
Niter: "Not officially. You saw how Muster's employees are treated. He's our planet's greatest mining magnate. Many of us have criticized and denounced him, but no one acts. He sustains the economy through interplanetary exports."
Francesca (thinking): So that logo on the floating bikes belongs to Muster.
Tyron (curious): "And… how does this enormous island float?"
Niter (surprised, smiling): "According to history, our species once lived on the planet's surface. Then an electromagnetic pulse altered the rocks beneath ancient civilizations, creating opposing forces that lifted us away from the surface. There are now over ten floating citadels. We have the technology to return, but it's too dangerous. We survive by drawing materials up through electromagnetic currents."
Emily: "Only ten cities?"
Niter (laughing): "Yes. Our planet is three times smaller than Earth."
Francesca (serious): "And what if polarities reverse or the magnetic bases weaken?"
Niter: "Centuries ago, the Society of Users created Fiu feedback spheres that keep everything stable."
With many doubts resolved, the blonde asks,
"So grays are disappearing… Is there no police here?"
Niter lowers his head and shakes it.
"There are. Reports have been filed—hundreds of them. Families have lost loved ones. I even reported this to the Golden One's closest servants. No one acts. Worse, the disappearances keep increasing. Some time ago, someone contacted me, claiming they'd found something strange—but couldn't explain it. We agreed to meet during one of our planet's nights. I arrived at the meeting point and…"
He falls silent, a knot in his throat.
"And?" the brown-haired girl presses.
Niter swallows.
"I watched him get killed. Someone used a psychic power spear. Those weapons are only used by red-lined grays and red police units. I still can't believe it."
The youths freeze. The brown-haired girl looks to the warrior.
"Master… how did he see anything if he has no eyes?"
Jayden smiles.
"Our nights occur once every seven days and last twenty-four hours. They see using their faceless area, emitting telepathic waves that map the environment in their brains like sensors. The stronger they are, the more detail and color they perceive—but they need light or reflective objects. Otherwise, most of them would be blind during the night."
Francesca: "So for twenty-four hours, your entire race is effectively blind—especially the grays. They couldn't identify the killer."
Niter: "Exactly. That night, I could only see someone murder the one who summoned me. It could have been any security officer."
Alexa: "When did this happen?"
Niter: "A week ago. On Sunday."
Alexa (serious): "Then anyone wanting to act without being identified would choose those twenty-four hours."
Francesca (confident): "Good hypothesis. We just need to check when the disappearances are reported. Do you have the reports?"
Niter (smiling): "They exist—but I gave them all to Security Chief Craid. If you ask, he'll hand them over. I'll give you authorization."
He pulls a document from his desk drawer.
The blonde takes it, then addresses the others.
"Wind and I will get the records. Emi, you and the other one go gather information in the streets—talk to people, check the gray sector. Look for ways to move large groups without suspicion during the night."
They nod and split up. The two girls leave first, asking the maid for directions to the police station. The two brown-haired youths head out as well. As they descend, the girl glances uneasily toward the palace at the summit.
"That was strange," the green-eyed girl says. "You chose me instead of the others."
"I need someone with understanding and status in the Society of Users," the blonde replies calmly. "Your grandmother was important. If this paper fails, your surname might not."
She pauses, then adds dryly,
"And besides—sending you with that idiot on an analysis-heavy task would be a disaster."
The girls reach a three-story building where red Oksilis in blue armor park floating patrols. Many stare at them after the earlier incident, but they ignore it and enter. Inside, a waiting hall filled with seats leads to a counter. Without a word, they hand Niter's document to a middle-aged red-skinned woman. She disappears behind a door. Minutes later, she returns and gestures for them to go upstairs.
Meanwhile, the two brown-haired youths return to the first sector. At the fountain, the girl asks,
"Ty, if you had to move many people without drawing attention, how would you do it?"
He scratches his chin.
"A bus… but there's nothing like that here. Only floating vehicles—and they don't use them like that."
They nod. There isn't a single large vehicle. Heading west, the population thins until the area looks abandoned—open, damaged houses, as if something attacked them. In the distance, several floating vehicles converge. The pair leap onto a rooftop and pursue them.
The other duo reaches a double door guarded by two blue-armored beings. They enter an office where a silver-armored figure sorts papers. Both girls tense. Something feels wrong.
"Are you Chief Craid?" the blonde asks.
He nods and turns—revealing three white lines where his face should be. He smiles grotesquely from the mouth on his shoulder.
"Well, look at that," he says. "Aren't you the ones who threatened me?"
The door opens. Ten guards aim their spears. Both girls grip their katana hilts beneath their cloaks.
"Please," Craid says calmly, "have a seat."