Once the spaceship sailed gracefully through the asteroid belt, it was time to choose lunch.

Azalea's eyes sparkled with curiosity as she asked, "Can I have potatoes shaped like those asteroids we just passed?"

A hearty chuckle rumbled from Granley as he skimmed the menu. "Today's chef's recommendation is the deep-sea fish fillet from Europa, and there's the Moonlight salad..."

"I'll have the Moonlight salad, please," Azalea chimed in, determined to place her order before Granley could make a choice for her. Seeing a slight furrow in his brow, she quickly added, "It's a common vegetarian dish on Europa, made from local plants that emit a soft, moonlight-like glow during the night. It has a delightful fruity flavor that I've grown quite fond of."

"Very well. I will go with the fish fillet." With a decisive nod, he closed the menu, opting for the dish he had always enjoyed.

Unbeknownst to Granley, Azalea's choice was influenced by their previous dates in the Union, where he almost always ordered fish, requesting an additional serving for Azalea.

Yet, for Azalea, fish was not her preference. Several reasons might have contributed to her aversion - the peculiar appearance of fish, the treacherous bones concealed in their flesh, and their slimy texture. The taste, too, was not to her liking, reminding her of plasticine. However, none of these reasons had ever swayed Granley.

After enduring multiple attempts at consuming fish, Azalea had finally pinpointed the underlying cause of her aversion - an intolerance to fish protein. This was a natural and normal physiological trait, akin to adults who couldn't tolerate milk due to their bodies not producing lactase. Every time she ate fish, Azalea experienced stomachaches. It wasn't typically debilitating, but it did pose a challenge, particularly if she envisioned a future with someone whose family had a strong penchant for seafood.

Granley shaw was born and raised on Venus, a planet where the core was covered by artificial seawater. And like his fellow Venusians, he always had fish as a dietary staple. His mother and grandmothers were all skilled fish cooks, passing down this culinary tradition through the generations. So, in their shared past, Granley had subtly hinted, or not so subtly indicated, that he hoped his future wife would share his family's enthusiasm for fish...

Consequently, the young love-blinded Azalea had chosen not to reveal this fact. And Granley remained blissfully unaware of her issue with fish to this day.

###

Lunch arrived promptly, and Granley generously served Azalea a portion of fish. "You should dig in. I'll catch up on the news for a bit," he suggested, with a flick of a switch activating the radio.

Azalea gazed at the peculiar lump of "plasticine" on her plate. To eat or not to eat, that was the question.

The meal pleased Granley, and he was nearly done before he noticed that Azalea's plate remained untouched.

"Delicious," he encouraged, noting her hesitation.

She finally took up her fork and, as Granley once again got lost in the news, she whimsically pricked two small holes in the fish, crafting a little "plasticine" monster.

The radio channel had diligently followed the peace treaty negotiations, delivering a comprehensive overview - The Solar Union, situated within the Asteroid Belt, comprises three planets rich in solar energy resources: Venus, Earth, and Mars. Over the past decade, the Union's population has rebounded to pre-disaster level, all thanks to advancements in ABO technology. Then beyond the Asteroid Belt lies the Jupiter Alliance, untouched by the nuclear catastrophe, but still grappling with a population crisis due to a low birth rate among Beta humans. The alliance is endowed with abundant water and natural gas reserves, resources in high demand by the Union. Therefore, both parties have successfully reached an agreement on a resource-sharing pact, paving the way for a trade corridor spanning the Asteroid Belt and establishing a robust foundation for collective human development. The Union delegation, under the leadership of General Granley Shaw, the highest-ranking military officer, has received acclaim for their dedicated efforts in fostering amicable relations.

"Your food is getting cold." Granley eventually noticed Azalea's culinary creativity.

In return, Azalea playfully chimed, "Oh, General Shaw, you are my champion, the star of the Union~"

Her exaggerated tone almost left Granley choking. He smiled, swiftly pulling Azalea nearer. "Finish your meal. Or would you prefer some other pastime?"

Leaning in, his dark and bewitching eyes locked onto her soft, petal-like lips, releasing a faint pheromone scent. Azalea held her breath, averting her gaze, readying her utensils to wage war on the "plasticine monster" on her plate. She endeavored to convince herself that the genetic reconstruction for her revival might have bestowed upon her the ability to tolerate fish protein. Still, she pondered if any rational human being would willingly consume something they abhor. Perhaps the answer was yes, but only under imminent life-threatening peril, much like the current situation where an Alpha's patience was visibly waning, as revealed by his narrowing eyes.

Acknowledging her momentary cowardice, Azalea persevered quietly, meticulously consuming her salad and the "plasticine", despite the near urge to retch. Upon finishing, she consoled herself with the thought that this self-imposed experiment could potentially yield a valuable research article in medicine, which she might entitle "Immune System Reconstruction in Human Clones."

"Good. That's my Little Snow," Granley’s voice was gentle and filled with a certain endearment as he watched Azalea finish her meal. He then asked, "This morning, why did you want to go to Venus?"

"To find Midori." Azalea responded promptly, her tone earnest. The seriousness elicited a gentle smile from Granley. He reached out to tousle her slightly curly black hair and hinted, "Is there nothing else, or no one else on your mind?"

Pretending not to catch his implication, Azalea responded crisply, "No," yet she nestled closer to him, embracing his warmth.

Abruptly, a new thought crossed her mind, and she spoke up. "I was looking into some LeBon Awards information last night," Azalea began. "Then something strange stood out - the ABO project was considered a significant breakthrough back then, but how come it never got nominated? Also, why did the project leadership was shifted to Prof. Evonne and Dr. Soowill? Even if I wasn't there, Midori should have received recognition, right?"

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

She counted off on her fingers. "The two of us handled all the funding proposal, devised experimental protocols, oversaw animal testing, recruited subjects, conducted clinical trials, compiled data, performed analyses, and published the manuscripts... "

"Azalea..." Granley interrupted, his countenance taking an unusual shade.

"Yes?" Azalea locked her gaze onto him for a moment, then it struck her like a lightning bolt. "Wait, did she defect to Jupiter like I did?"

Choosing his words with meticulous care, Granley replied, "Regarding the ABO program, there's good news and bad news... The good news is that this year, the LeBon Award committee is considering an additional nomination for the ABO project. The bad news is... Midori Leafbud passed away a long time ago."

"You must be joking, right?" Azalea was left utterly flabbergasted, her voice trembling. As the realization that Granley wasn't joking began to settle in, tears welled up in her eyes, clouding her vision.

Sensing the distress, Granley tenderly embraced her, planting a gentle kiss on her forehead. "It's alright now, Little Snow. I'm here for you."

It took a while for Azalea to finally compose herself, her voice still shaking as she asked, "So, when did Midori... what exactly happened to her?"

Granley's gaze darkened slightly as he held her even closer, releasing soothing pheromones. He did not want to delve any further into the topic. So, in a soft, reassuring whisper, he said, "About the ABO project... there are still some ongoing issues and conflicts with the Academy of Sciences. I need you to keep everything you know a secret until I can sort things out. But I promise that everything will be alright."

After a while, Azalea finally responded with a soft "Mm." She clung to Granley like a koala to a eucalyptus tree, burying her nose in the scent of his neck, greedily inhaling the comforting aroma of birch trees. Her eyes fixated on the neat one-centimeter scar at the nape of his neck. A decade had passed since she expertly sutured it herself. It was the enduring mark of his transformation surgery, the very first Alpha transformation surgery in human history. Even in today's advanced medical landscape, such a meticulously closed incision remained a rarity.

Amid this silent observation, she felt the gentle strokes of Granley's reassuring hands on her back. Wrapped in the Alpha pheromones, her taut nerves gradually uncoiled, and her mind journeyed back to fragments of memories from her previous life...

###

At that time, the 18-year-old Azalea had just earned her doctoral degree. Filled with youthful zeal, she had embarked on a post-doc opportunity at the Mars Research Base, joining Midori to explore the potential traces of extraterrestrial life.

The voyage from Venus to Mars, a distance of a mere 0.8 astronomical units, stretched agonizingly over a month due to the spaceship's outdated technology. Their anticipation mounted as they neared the destination, but a sudden issue with the spaceship's landing control system disrupted all the plans. The base proposed a solution to this by switching to ground control mode, which required signals from the ground signal tower. Unfortunately, uncooperative Martian weather, in the form of a relentless sandstorm, prevented ground personnel from accessing the tower and sending the necessary signals. To ensure the safety of both their spaceship and the ground base, the crew was ordered to remain in outer space until the issue was rectified.

Amidst this turmoil, Azalea remained composed and content, immersing herself in various forms of entertainment. Of these, fiction novels proved to be the most captivating.

"Haha, this is hilarious! Midori, do you know what 'ABO' means?" Azalea sat up on the couch, a gleeful expression on her face, book in hand.

Midori, her long, silky black hair cascading like a waterfall, perked up at Azalea's question. Her innocent, doe-like eyes blinked in curiosity. "I'm not sure... is it something related to blood types?"

Azalea suppressed a laugh, shaking her head. "No, not even close!"

"I think it might have to do with the book she's reading." A golden-haired, blue-eyed young man behind Midori chimed in, not bothering to look at Azalea. His gaze was entirely fixed on Midori and her waist-length hair. He wielded a wooden comb, moving it gracefully through her dark tresses.

Azalea, a touch exasperated, retorted, "Hey, can we please keep the interruptions to a minimum? We're trying to have a serious discussion here!"

Midori giggled, "Actually, I think Lumi makes a smart point. So, Little snow, what book are you reading, and what's the meaning of 'ABO'?"

Azalea looked at Luminos Summerain, who was expertly tending to Midori's hair, and then back at the innocent Midori. Suddenly, she felt like a bad influence on this sweet young woman and stumbled over her words, "It's a hypothetical model for future humans… 'A' stands for Alpha, the strong and assertive leaders, often taking on a protective role. 'B' signifies Beta, who are essentially the everyday people, like you and me. Finally, 'O' denotes Omega, individuals who are physically delicate but exceptionally fertile, typically fulfilling a breeder role. Alphas and omegas possess unique scent glands at the back of their necks that release individual-specific pheromones during mating season, which serve to attract them to one another. When an alpha injects their pheromones into an omega's glands, it marks the omega as their partner and establishes a one-on-one relationship akin to a marriage. Through this bond, they can have offspring. This system transcends traditional gender roles, as both female and male Alpha can impregnate female and male Omega"

Midori, slightly intrigued, remarked, "Fascinating! I guess there are insightful discussions about its societal impact and power dynamics. After all, who can resist an adorable male Omega?”

Azalea extended the book to Midori, inquiring, "Would you like to read it? I just finished this one."

As she handed the book over, she noticed Luminos carefully fastening a white jade lotus hairpin into Midori's freshly done hair bun. She leaned in to examine it and commented, "Oh, a new hairpin? It suits you perfectly."

"Thank you, Little Snow. Today is our anniversary." Midori blushed slightly as she started reading the ABO novel, while Luminos settled into a chair beside her, reading some ancient Chinese philosophy called “the book of the way”.

Azalea, the sole single person in the group, wisely stayed silent and retreated to the window. She focused on the pale pink planet through her telescope, once again, wondering how long it would take for them to land on Mars.

Viewed from the orbit, the Martian going sandstorm hung like a fragile veil, reminding her of fundus photographs from cataract patients. In the polar regions, a purple aurora gracefully swirled, created by atmospheric particles colliding with the solar wind in the planet's magnetic field. Adjusting the telescope's focus to penetrate the storm's veil, Azalea could barely make out the signal transmission towers on the planet's surface, crucial for relaying data back to the Venus Research Base. Nearby, several utilitarian gray-white structures stood; functional but stark, marking their destination - the Mars Research Base.

Suddenly, her keen eye caught a small white dot inching toward the transmission tower amid the storm's fury.

"Midori, look, someone from the base is heading to the towers!" She announced with excitement.

Midori, deeply engrossed in her novel, responded without lifting her gaze, "Yay, fascinating!"

Luminos, just turning a page in his book, cast a skeptical look toward Mars. "Really? It's minus one hundred and fifty degrees out there, winds like freezing blades. That person must be crazy..."

Azalea kept her telescope fixed on the small white dot, finding it oddly endearing. "Maybe... that one is just exceptionally dedicated..."

Shortly after, the tower ignited like a guiding star in the midst of the storm. Then, a voice, resonant and magnetic, echoed through the spaceship. "Greetings, ladies and gentlemen. This is Granley Shaw, Director of AI Systems at the Mars Research Base. Your patience is appreciated. The spaceship landing issue is now resolved. Welcome to Mars!"