For a few long, bleak minutes, Evander immersed himself in the chats and threads of the subnet, poring over their content. The more he read, the deeper the pit of despair within him grew. It was as if he was peering into a reflection of a skewed society, a mirror of a world where men had become pampered, entitled, and stripped of their natural ambitions. His heart sank, realizing the grim fate that befell his kin in this world.

Suddenly, he caught an unfamiliar rustling sound from behind him. The gentle movement of fabric against skin and the soft creaking of the bed frame. Whirling around, his heart skipped a beat as he saw Arckit in the midst of pulling her top over her head.

"What do you think you're doing?" Evander blurted out, his voice echoing in the suddenly too small room. His eyes were wide, and his chest tightened in alarm.

Startled, Arckit hastily yanked her top back down, her cheeks flushing a deep shade of crimson. She fumbled with her words, her voice barely above a whisper, "I... I thought... That's how it happens in all the holo movies and books I've read."

Evander let out a resigned sigh, shaking his head gently. He ran a hand through his hair, his mind buzzing with a jumble of thoughts. The absurdity of the situation was not lost on him, but it was far from amusing. "Let's get out of here before anything we might both regret happens," he suggested, his voice carrying a note of fatigue.

As the lingering blush on Arckit's cheeks deepened, she raised her gaze to meet his. There was a challenging glint in her eyes, a silent defiance that surprised him. "I probably wouldn't regret it at all," she retorted, her voice holding a strange mix of stubbornness and desperation.

Gently, yet firmly, Evander ushered her towards the door. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions. The last thing he wanted was to cause further discomfort. "I think you would," he countered softly, shutting the door behind them. "This isn't something we should rush into."

Arckit's words echoed in the hallway, clear and unflinching. "I'm not going to get many chances in this life to be in this situation. I'm only trying to make the most of it."

His heart sank at her words, the reality of her situation striking him like a physical blow. A sense of helplessness washed over him as he thought about the struggles she must be facing, the unfair constraints imposed on her by the society. "What happens if you get pregnant? I, for one, am not ready to be a father," he managed to articulate his concern, trying to mask the pang of guilt that accompanied his words.

Arckit's eyes held a distant look, as if she was seeing a future only she could envision. She nodded slowly, her voice tinged with a bittersweet acceptance. "Oh, it could be a boy... I've heard that natural...," she trailed off momentarily, gesturing vaguely in the air, "is more likely to result in a boy. And then I'd be set for life, living in a safe area..."

Evander couldn't help but shake his head, the profound injustice of her words unsettling him. The implication of her words hung heavy in the air as he gently nudged her down the corridor towards the lounge area.

In the dimly lit lounge, the plush sofa offering a comforting embrace, Evander noticed Arckit shifting her approach, her determination still present despite the previous conversation. "Do you like me?" She questioned, her tone wavering slightly, revealing a vulnerability that she had so far managed to keep hidden.

With a small, affectionate smile, he reached out, gently patting her head. The gesture felt familiar and intimate in a way he hadn't expected. "That's the problem," he admitted, his voice a soft murmur in the quiet lounge, "I like you too much. If we go any further, it would be hard to control... Let's just take it easy for now."

Her face, a canvas of various emotions, was slightly downturned, her gaze focused on their intertwined fingers. He quickly released her hand, unsure of the effect his touch was having on her.

He glanced around the lounge, his eyes landing on the high-tech entertainment system they'd managed to navigate earlier. "Why don't we watch a movie together and have something to eat?" He suggested, trying to steer the conversation towards safer shores. "You choose the movie, and I'll choose the snacks."

A small nod was her only response, the tension between them easing slightly. She busied herself with the task at hand, her fingers hovering over the three-dimensional screen, scrolling through the countless movie options.

On the other hand, Evander found himself standing before the automated food dispenser, his mind spinning as he scanned the array of snack options. There was an assortment of dishes that bore a striking resemblance to the delicacies from his world. His eyes finally landed on a snack that looked oddly similar to popcorn. A nostalgic smile crossed his face as he remembered the times he'd spent watching movies with friends back home, a bowl of popcorn always within reach.

The hum of the food dispenser brought him back to reality, the bowl in his hands now filled with the popcorn-like snack. His heart pounded in his chest as he turned to look at Arckit, the soft glow of the entertainment system casting dancing shadows on her focused face. This was a new world, a new situation, and a new relationship. As he watched her, he couldn't help but feel a sense of hope, of possibility.

In the embrace of the sprawling lounge, the atmosphere was filled with the captivating tension of the action-romance movie illuminating the three-dimensional screen. The narrative echoed a tune that was now familiar to Evander – the woman, always the saviour of distressed men, a poignant mirror of the world he found himself in.

Arckit was nestled snugly against him, the heat of her body seeping through the fabric of his clothing and casting a warm hue over the cool detachment he'd maintained so far. Her head found a comfortable resting place on his shoulder, her breaths were rhythmic whispers against the fabric of his shirt. He realized, with an odd mixture of alarm and comfort, that this felt natural - that he was beginning to adapt to this bizarre reality.

As the plotlines twisted and turned, the strong heroines on the screen rescuing their beleaguered counterparts, they filled the air with anecdotes and stories from their respective lives. Arckit’s voice was soft but clear, carrying the weight of experiences that spoke volumes of the city’s brutal indifference towards its less fortunate women. Her tales painted a vivid canvas of survival and resilience, of a woman standing defiant in the face of an unsympathetic world.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

Underneath the thrill of the chase and the crushing despair of the hunted in the movie, he learned about her life - about how she had foregone the allure of hunting in the untamed wilderness, with its perilously low survival rates, to stay within the city's relative safety.

He learned about her ability to twist and turn with the city's treacherous ebb and flow, to carve out a path for herself amidst the chaos. She'd chosen to wield the power of magic, to mold it into a tool for her survival, to blend it seamlessly with her knack for hacking. A wheeler and dealer on the city's unforgiving streets, she'd used her unique set of skills to survive, to thrive even.

And as the night unfurled, the movie playing out its cliched yet engaging storyline, he found himself drawn to her resilience, to the strength she held beneath her soft exterior. He realized, not for the first time, the innate fortitude of women in this world - their ability to adapt, survive, and overcome, even when the world seemed stacked against them.

As the night grew older, their conversation weaved itself into the fabric of the movie's narrative, creating a tapestry of shared experiences in an unshared world. By the time the credits rolled, he felt a strange sense of closeness to Arckit, a bond that was as unexpected as it was undeniable.

--

Somewhere amid the hum of their conversation, the shared laughs over an overly dramatic scene, and the whispered stories of a world unknown, sleep had ensnared Evander. When he stirred, the ghost of a dream still clinging to his consciousness, the first thing he registered was the gentle cadence of Arckit's breathing. She was fast asleep, her head pillowed comfortably on his chest, her arm draped across his torso like a lifeline.

The sunlight was beginning its daily invasion, bathing the room in hues of gold and warmth, gently nudging the inhabitants awake. A sharp rap on the door was a far less gentle wake-up call, tearing through the serenity of the moment. He froze, hoping whoever it was would leave, but the persistent knock echoed again, shattering the remnants of the peaceful morning.

With a soft sigh, he shifted, carefully disentangling himself from Arckit, making sure not to disrupt her slumber. His feet moved soundlessly against the cold, sleek floor as he navigated his way towards the door, the persistent knocking growing louder with each passing second.

He pressed his palm against the security panel, a soft beep resonating through the quiet room as the door slid open. The figure on the other side was that of the innocuous-looking therapist, clad in her smart, neutral-toned suit. Her face was an unreadable mask, the professional facade firmly in place. A chill of unease crept up Evander's spine. What was she doing here this early? And that persistent knocking…

Not giving her a chance to peer inside and see the still-sleeping Arckit, Evander stepped outside and closed the door behind him. He planted himself firmly in front of the door, creating a human barrier between the therapist and the secrets the room held within. The morning was still young, but he could already sense it was about to get complicated.

Facing the therapist, a woman who wore her authority like an accessory, Evander noticed a hint of approval in her eyes. She spoke about his request from the previous day, a girl's visitation, and it seemed to please her that he was "coming out of his shell." He couldn’t help but find the phrase mildly irritating. This wasn't a shell, it was a cautious deliberation. But he held his tongue. It wasn’t the time for verbal skirmishes.

She continued in her evenly modulated tone, lecturing him about the perils of being taken advantage of by inappropriate women, offering her expertise in his selection process. Her words slithered around him like serpents, provoking his ire with their presumptions.

Does she think I'm so naive? He internally scoffed, yet his exterior remained impassive. He nodded at the appropriate pauses, a malleable mannequin to her unsolicited advice. From his days in the military, he knew better than to rock the boat unnecessarily. Battles were chosen wisely, and this wasn’t one.

For a while, she seemed intent on penetrating the fortress of his privacy, her gaze frequently shifting to the door he was so deliberately guarding. With every subtle, and not-so-subtle, hint of hers, he countered with an excuse, each one just believable enough to hold her at bay. It's too early. I'm not dressed appropriately. There's a lot to clean up. He wove a shield of words, not an outright refusal but a barricade nonetheless.

Eventually, after what felt like an interminable exchange, she departed, her heels clicking rhythmically against the ground, each step echoing Evander’s silent sigh of relief. But not before promising to be of help, now that he was 'out of his shell.' The morning light seemed a tad bit warmer after her departure. His sanctuary remained unviolated, for now. But he understood that in this facility, privacy was a privilege, not a right. And privileges could be revoked.

Upon reentering the room, Evander found Arckit wide-eyed, her gaze lingering on the now closed door, her tousled hair making a halo around her intrigued face. A knot tightened in his stomach. Did she overhear the conversation?

With a slow, languid stretch that seemed to ripple through her, Arckit chased away the remnants of sleep. The room was bathed in the soft morning light that gave a muted glow to her skin, making her seem more ethereal. Breaking the silence, she stated nonchalantly that she had things to do that day, her words cutting through his silent introspection.

He merely nodded, his mind mulling over the tasks he needed her assistance with. Settling down on a nearby chair, he sought her attention. His gaze was earnest as he asked her for a favor. Her brows arched in interest, a teasing light flickering in her eyes. He reassured her quickly, his voice laced with a solemnity that sobered the playful ambiance. "I'll pay for it," he added, hoping to steer the conversation towards more serious grounds.

Her response was a flutter of flirtatious banter as she moved closer to him, the subtle scent of her filling the space between them. Their proximity seemed to draw an electric charge in the air, each breath he drew charged with her essence. But he was quick to divert the trajectory of their interaction. "Not that type of favor," he corrected, the corners of his mouth twitching with restrained amusement.

His request was a peculiar one. He needed a way to get outside the city, a way that circumvented the need to swim across the bay or make the long run through the city's maze-like infrastructure.

Arckit’s face puckered into a frown, her eyes taking on a pensive light as she absorbed his request. "That would be difficult," she admitted, her tone carrying a hint of consternation. "The exits to the safe zones are warded with magical inscriptions. Bypassing them... it won't be easy."

However, her words were not entirely discouraging. "Once you're out of the safe zone, the rest would be simple," she assured him, a faint smile playing on her lips. "All you'd need is a good disguise and a guild card for hunting. With some money, acquiring these wouldn't be a problem."

"Alright, Arckit," Evander said, a quiet hope tingeing his voice. His hand unconsciously brushed the smooth surface of his payment stone, the warmth of the device bringing a familiar comfort. "I trust your judgement. I trust...you."

He keyed in the transfer, an amount far exceeding what their agreement called for. The beep indicating the successful transfer echoed in the silence of the room.

"This isn't just for the task," he admitted, his gaze softening as he met her eyes. His voice dropped to a whisper, carrying an undercurrent of earnest concern. "I want you to take care of yourself, Arckit."

His words hung heavy in the air, a silent plea underlining each syllable. She shouldn't get into trouble because of me, the thought repeated itself, a mantra reverberating in the recesses of his mind.

Her eyes held his gaze, the flicker in her irises reflecting an understanding of his unspoken plea. After a moment of quiet contemplation, she nodded. "I'll solve your problem, Evander," she assured him, her voice carrying a note of solemn promise. "And I'll keep myself out of trouble."

With that, they started the trek to the exit of the safe zone, their steps matching each other's rhythm. Her departure was marked with a sense of finality, a sense of things set in motion. His goodbye was soft, filled with silent hopes and expectations.

As he watched her retreating figure, his heart was filled with a strange mix of relief and anticipation.