A tremor in the air. A ripple through the static hum of Ferrum’s skyward towers. The endless sprawl of neon arteries pulsed beneath the dusk, the city caught in the thrall of its own indifferent march through time. And high above, perched upon the precipice of wealth and regret, stood Artex Tavresh’s penthouse—a glass citadel of solitude, suspended between privilege and penance.
A bell rang, sharp as a surgeon’s scalpel against the silence.
Inside, a device of strange luminescence bathed the room in shifting fractals of color. A sphere, hovering mid-air, its surface a portal to distant memories, reconstructed dreams, and curated emotions. The 31st century’s answer to storytelling—a NeuroSphere. It whispered in ethereal tones, wrapping Kalvis and Karina in a world not their own, where stars bloomed like fire and legends walked again.
Another ring. And then, the unmistakable presence of someone peering through the penthouse’s kinetic-tinted windows, their silhouette fractured by the shifting hues of the NeuroSphere.
“Don’t mind it,” Artex exhaled, reclining into his seat, the weight of exhaustion pressing against his very bones. “Ghosts knock. But ghosts are best ignored.”
Unwanted Visit
Kalvis, ever the pragmatist, furrowed his brow. “That’s not a ghost. That’s a person.”
“Difference is semantics,” Artex murmured, eyes half-lidded.
Karina, sharp-eyed and sharper-witted, watched the window. “She doesn’t seem like she’s going away.”
A third ring, this time accompanied by a voice—a voice too commanding, too cutting, to be mistaken for anything but real.
“Artex! Are you in there?!”
Kalvis, ever the mediator, tilted his head. “Why don’t you just let her in?”
Artex groaned, dragging a hand through his disheveled hair. “Adult reasons,” he grumbled. “Fine, fine—before she breaks down the *tressh door.”
With a lazy flick of his wrist, the penthouse security disengaged. The door slid open, revealing Roqiam standing in the entrance like an avenging specter, her hazel-gold eyes scanning the room with razor-edged judgment.
Lingering Shadows
“So,” she breathed, stepping forward. “You were in here the whole time?”
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Artex dared to smirk. “Define ‘the whole time.’”
Roqiam’s nostrils flared. “I haven’t heard from you in weeks. No call. No message. Nothing!”
A shadow crossed her face. Then her gaze fell upon the children.
Kalvis and Karina.
Her features softened. The kind of softening that only occurs when grief is recognized but not spoken. When loss lingers in the space between words, an unspoken elegy playing between breaths.
“Who are these little cuties?”
“My niece and nephew.”
Roqiam didn’t need to ask what had happened. She had seen the footage. The burning wreckage. The smoldering remnants of lives reduced to ash. The Ferrum news channels had played it on an endless loop. A tragedy cataloged, consumed, and discarded by the ever-churning machine of civilization.
“Oh,” she whispered. Then, because words were empty things, she pivoted. “Why don’t I make some food?”
Artex hesitated.
Roqiam shot him a look that brooked no argument. “Don’t you even dare refuse. The least you could do to make up for ghosting me is to let me feed everyone.”
Artex sighed in theatrical defeat. “Fine. But don’t expect applause.”
Silent Platters
The meal sat before them, untouched, save for Roqiam’s PlasmaPlatter. The aroma of spices, of carefully prepared dishes, hung heavy in the air, but the weight of grief was heavier. Kalvis stared at his reflection on the polished surface of his IntelliBite that's taken the shape of a spoon. Karina toyed with the edges of her derma-shield, fingers trembling ever so slightly. Artex barely moved at all.
Roqiam exhaled, setting down her utensils with deliberate patience. “Sano,” she announced. “Enough of this. We’re going for a walk.”
Synthetic Eden
The garden was a marvel—an oasis within the steel veins of Ferrum, where flora of the old world entwined with the creations of the new. Trees with circuitry woven into their bark. Flowers of bio-metallic hues, shifting their petals in symphony with the city’s rhythms. The air was so rich with oxygen that it felt intoxicating. Here, nature and technology were not at war but in whispered conversation, an uneasy truce forged over centuries of innovation and necessity.
Roqiam and Artex walked ahead, their footsteps crunching against the smooth, pulse-reactive pavement.
“You understand what this means, don’t you?” Roqiam said, not unkindly.
Artex scoffed. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
She shot him a look. “Do I look like I’m enjoying watching you flounder under the weight of responsibility?”
“Immensely.”
She sighed, crossing her arms. “They need you.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t. Not fully.”
His jaw clenched. “You think I don’t feel it? Every second? The weight of it? The truth that if I fail, they have no one?”
Silence stretched between them. Then, softer—“Then stop pretending you’re alone in this.”
Artex exhaled, long and slow. “Easier said than done.”
A few steps behind, Kalvis and Karina trailed, their whispers weaving a lighter thread into the fabric of the night.
Childish Whispers
“You think she’s his girlfriend?” Karina mused, a flicker of mischief in her tone.
Kalvis snorted. “If she is, she’s got infinite patience.”
“Should we ask?”
Kalvis smirked. “Why bother asking when we can just make things awkward later?”
A chuckle, small but real, slipped through the night air—an ember of warmth against the cold.
And for a moment, however fleeting, they weren’t drowning.
They were just walking in a garden beneath the Ferrum sky.
Glossary
IntelliBite - ai-powered cutlery that adapts to eating styles and preferences
Dermashield - a temporary, invisible coating that prevents stains on skin or clothes
Sano - “healthy” or “good;” the evolution of the word ‘alright’
Tressh - an exclamation of frustration,misfortune or disbelief