The echoes of applause from the National Opera House played in Ayelen’s head—the grand concert hall filled with admiration for Cedric’s piano skills. Instead of pride, however, she felt a stinging jealousy as she watched him perform, the spotlight illuminating his youthful determination while she remained in the shadows.

So she ran away…

The ground felt soft yet firm, and there were ponds of translucent water that reflected pink clouds like mirrors. In her mind, she could still see his triumphant smile, almost mocking her for lacking his talent in the arts. Only he could be good at everything. Tears, warm and salty, coated her face, and an immense agony wrapped around her heart as the city’s lights blurred into a kaleidoscope of neon.

The voices of the crowd at the opera began to twist, laugh, and stare at her… They haunted her all the way and threatened to strangle her.

“Shame!” they shouted. “Shame on you for hating your brother!”

“I don’t hate him…” she tried to reply, but the words left her lips in a soundless shape.

“Liar! It’s your fault he’s dead!”

“No… he’s not dead! He’s not dead!”

She screamed, but again, her voice seemed muted.

“He will be dead so soon…”, they said. “Nothing will save him…you’re such a fool.”

They laughed at her—those invisible voices—blaming her over and over until the darkness engulfed her completely.

In a blink, the dimness shattered into a reddish city—a distorted, yet familiar, version of Asphodel. Now she was running with no direction, panic gripping her chest as chaos swirled in her mind.

Her world tilted suddenly, and Ayelen blinked awake, disoriented. The rhythmic beeping of medical machines punctuated the silence. She lay in a hospital bed, her body heavy with fatigue. It had been a nightmare, a cruel nightmare laced with guilt and memories from the past. The night she ran away from the Opera House flashed vividly in her mind, sharper now than ever. She saw Cedric’s young, tear-streaked face, recalling how she had arrived home to find him sobbing, devastated by her sudden departure. Back then, she hadn’t cared about his feelings, but now—after reliving those memories twisted by guilt—she felt the weight of it.

A familiar face appeared in the doorway—Eileen, the red-haired officer from earlier, breaking Ayelen out of her haze. Her expression was both solemn and kind.

“Ms. Sutterfeld, how are you feeling?” Eileen asked, her voice soft yet firm.

Ayelen tried to sit up, wincing as her limbs protested. “I… I thought it was all a nightmare,” she murmured, her voice cracking. “Is Cedric—”

Eileen nodded and stepped further into the room. “The doctors said you collapsed from stress. You’ll be okay, but you need to take it easy. Are you ready to see your brother?”

Without hesitation, Ayelen’s resolve hardened. “Yes. I need to see him. It’s why I’m here.”

Eileen offered a sympathetic nod and led Ayelen through the maze of hospital corridors. The fluorescent lights above blurred as Ayelen’s thoughts raced, but she followed Eileen with a single-minded determination.

They reached the twelfth floor, and Eileen guided her into a large, almost empty room bathed in cold, clinical light. In the center, Cedric lay motionless on a bed, his body tethered to machines that kept him alive. The room was stark, underscoring the severity of his condition.

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Ayelen’s breath caught in her throat. Cedric, usually vibrant and determined, looked pale, his dark, wavy hair limp against the white sheets. A holographic screen displayed his vital signs, its monotonous beeping a cruel contrast to the lively presence Cedric once had.

Seeing him like that—neither dead nor fully alive—hurt more than she could bear. She sank to her knees beside Cedric’s bed, her tears spilling onto the cold floor. “I’m so sorry, Cedric,” she choked, her voice raw with grief. “I never wanted this for you. I should never have pushed you into the army. This is my fault.”

She placed her trembling hand over his limp one, brushing her fingers against his cool skin. His eyes, closed, seemed as though they could open at any moment—but maybe that was just her desperate hope. Her hand drifted to his cheek, and as she traced the faint scar above his left eyebrow, a flood of memories rushed back.

She remembered the day it happened, how they had been walking home from school, the taunts of their classmates still echoing in her mind: “You Sutterfelds! You’re a bunch of killers!” The boy had hurled a Rubik’s cube at Cedric, striking him squarely on the head. She could still see the blood pooling on the pavement, the terror that gripped her as she called for help.

That curse. The Holodream machine. The legacy that haunted their family.

Ayelen stared at Cedric’s motionless form, the weight of the past heavy on her shoulders. The Holodream had brought pain and misery to the Sutterfelds, but now, in this moment of despair, it might be the only chance left to save her brother.

“I swear, Cedric, I’ll bring you back. No matter what it takes. I’ll make it right.”

The Holodream project—her grandfather’s invention—was her only hope. She had to find it, for Cedric’s sake.

Ayelen wiped her tears and left Cedric’s side, walking toward the waiting room. Inside, Eileen, a blonde officer—the one who had driven her all the way from Asphodel to Valkyria—and a slender woman in a doctor’s gown were deep in conversation. Eileen’s face was tense with frustration.

“How can you even consider something like that?” Eileen shouted, her voice rising. “The mere thought of disconnecting Major Sutterfeld is horrific!”

Ayelen’s pulse quickened as she approached, alarmed by what she was hearing.

“Our facilities aren’t designed for long-term care,” the doctor explained, though Eileen’s anger barely allowed her to finish. “I’m sorry, but there’s nothing we can do—”

Eileen moved toward the doctor aggressively, and Ayelen cleared her throat, stepping in to break the tension. “What’s going on?” she asked, her voice controlled but icy.

“Who are you?” the doctor asked, startled.

“She’s Major Sutterfeld’s sister,” the blonde officer interjected.

“I think this is none of our business, Eileen. Let them talk,” the blonde added.

“I’m not going anywhere until I know Cedric is safe!” Eileen barked, shoving the blonde away. “He’s our squad leader! The best pilot we’ve got! How can his own people do this to him?”

“Enough!” Ayelen snapped. “Doctor, what is the situation with my brother?”

The doctor looked frazzled, clearly overwhelmed by the confrontation. She exhaled deeply and said, “I would prefer to speak privately, Ms. Sutterfeld.”

Eileen, still furious, was finally coaxed out of the room by the blonde officer, though not without protest.

Once they were gone, the doctor turned to Ayelen with a somber expression. “I’m sorry for the scene,” she began. “The soldiers overheard a conversation between me and my superior. There’s been talk of disconnecting Major Sutterfeld if he doesn’t wake up in four to six weeks.”

Ayelen’s stomach dropped. Cedric hadn’t even been here 24 hours, and they were already talking about ending his life. Ruthless. Cold. Inhuman.

“The timeframe isn’t final,” the doctor added quickly. “But… the odds aren’t in his favor. His condition is more complex than we initially thought. The brain trauma from piloting is severe, but there’s something else. We’ve detected… modifications. Parts of his cerebral structure are artificially enhanced, though we don’t know why or how. It’s like he was—experimented on.”

“Wait, what?” Ayelen’s heart raced, the words hitting her like a wave. She felt lightheaded, like she might collapse again. “You’re saying his brain isn’t… natural?”

“Not entirely,” the doctor said cautiously. “There are modifications we can’t fully understand without invasive measures.”

“Are you out of your mind?” Ayelen snapped, stepping closer, her fists clenched. The doctor shrank back, visibly startled. Ayelen drew in a shaky breath, forcing herself to calm down, though fury still burned inside her.

“You’re not touching him,” Ayelen said through gritted teeth. “I don’t care what your protocols are. He’s still alive. Respect that.”

“I apologize if I offended you. My intention was only to inform you of the complexity of his condition. These enhancements may have saved his life, but they’re also keeping him in this coma. His brainwaves are irregular—almost like he’s trapped in a dream state. We need to assess whether he has a real chance of recovery.”

Ayelen rubbed her temples, her mind racing. This was too much. Her only lead, her only hope, was her grandfather’s project. The Holodream.

“I understand,” Ayelen said, her voice low. “But you won’t touch him. As long as I breathe, you won’t. I’ll find another way.”

With that, she turned and left the room in a whirlwind of emotion, needing to escape the suffocating walls of the hospital. She stepped outside into the night, the sky dark and empty, her mind racing as she thought of the doctor’s explanations.

“Assholes!”, she yelled, kicking the hologram that formed a big sign outside in the hospital yard. “Hiroshi Sutterfeld Wing: A space for advanced research”, it read.

“Grandpa…”, she let herself fall in the ground…”I need you so much right now…Cedric needs you.”

His words echoed in her mind: “Holodream is here... in my head. It can never be destroyed.”

But her grandfather was gone. And now she had to find it.

The Holodream Machine.

Somehow, somewhere.