How could this be possible? An icky feeling—like that of food poisoning—lodged itself into Aether’s throat. He staggered off the train and onto Cyprus City’s port station. Gen caught his arm then dragged him towards the nearby trash bin. He leaned over its white rim, and she rubbed his back.

A new kind of feeling invaded his stomach: warm, bubbly pride. Who cared if he had an image to uphold? Nobody would recognize his face, and even if they did, it was a worthy sacrifice for Gen’s caress. Hmph. Joule hasn’t had her rub his back.

Smack. She slapped his shoulder, and he teetered. What was that for?

“Man, you should have ridden closer to the front,” Gen said with a smile. Then she prodded his side.

“You seem fine.”

“I have tons of experience. But, hey, man, on the return trip we can ride at the front. How does that sound?”

“The back.” Aether dry heaved, and she rubbed him some more.

“You have nothing to prove by challenging the hell pod. Just take the front.”

He shook his head. It wasn’t about proving his bravery or the durability of his stomach. It was about sitting next to her on a vehicle that jostled their bodies closer to each other. And the sweet feeling of her care. Nausea? He might as well fake it in the future. In fact, motion sickness might be his new best friend.

After he dry heaved until he felt satisfied, they headed to the port station’s pier and waited in line at the pickup platform. Gen had her phone at the ready, Sparrow app opened so that she could quickly link to the driver’s application.

The vehicle arrived: a generic Ravenbrood painted a dark purple. Aether lay onto its ripped seats opposite the loading door. They smelled odd, like burning rubber but not as pungent.

He groaned, meaning to emphasize his nausea, then covered his eyes with an arm. The seats depressed—Gen had sat beside his head—and he repressed a smile.

“If he throws up, that’s an extra fifty star creds,” said the driver.

“He’s not gonna vomit. Just take us to our destination.”

Aether flinched. Did she know he had already shaken off nausea and had begun pretending?

The driver grumbled, and the vehicle teetered, switching from stationary gear to flight mode.

Aether released a groan, and a warmth brushed his forehead. Had he fallen asleep and dreamt of it? He held his breath as he peeked for certainty.

Gen. Her fingertips hovered above his skin and emitted an elusive warmth.

“I didn’t expect you to get so motion sick,” she said. There was something soft within her eyes, unlike her usual gaze that hid a tinge of judgmental prejudice. How did she see him?

Warm aura escaped through his breath as he said, “The last train segment is far worse than being thrown into a blender.”

“You remind me of Ascending,” she said, eyes further softening.

Aether frowned, and with a distant smile, she kneaded the space between his brows. Should he be concerned? Happy? On guard? What was she thinking?

“Lift up your head,” Gen said then patted her thigh. “You’ll feel better with a pillow.”

Definitely concerned, he told himself as the wrinkles of his forehead deepened. Gen didn’t seem like herself. But falling for her allure, he obeyed, rolled onto his side, and rested his cheek on her lap. He’d worry about it later.

“There, there,” she said, and his heart stopped due to a cacophony of emotions. Fear—was she treating him as her brother? And hope—maybe they had become closer.

Her fingers touched his hair, and he nuzzled his face into her vest, hiding the smile that had forced its way onto his lips.

————

The ride was too short for Aether—about an hour. The driver had dropped them off at a pier deep within the city. It was empty albeit for a few people, mostly window shoppers and young students who congregated near food stalls.

Gen crossed her arms and grumbled. “Could have driven that in ten minutes... Why use the AI and take the AI airways? Lame.”

Aether nodded, although he preferred the extra length.

Together, they entered the pier’s main skyscraper, whose entrance floor was a StarGroove. Gen led him to the levitation pad then to the stairway. With each floor they descended, her smile grew larger and radiated a healthy amount of mischievousness.

So cute... Aether drifted towards her.

After seven flights, they arrived at a foyer lined with paintings and busts of unknown people. Vehicles and their inventors, most likely. Acting familiar with the place, Gen pushed through a pair of wooden double doors, above which resided the inscription “Eternal Nest.”

A large, open space greeted them. It spanned four floors and showcased new flying cars. Below them the white, marble flooring glared at Aether, and so did the single reception desk sitting at its center.

The receptionist stood within it, and beside him was an aqua paint—something similar to a holographic image but crafted from water. It bore the store’s logo: an elongated vehicle flying into a nest. The receptionist’s gaze repeatedly returned to it as he spoke to another customer.

What political connections could Eternal Nest have to receive the rights to own an aqua paint? The sculptures were nonexistent within the Puresoul Galaxy; only in the Maelstrom Galaxy would one find them.

“Azure Dragon.” Gen leaned into Aether, her face reddening. She discreetly pointed at the store’s logo. “It’s one of the few vehicles not named after some kind of bird. I think it’s a firmament vehicle, but I’m not sure. I’ve only seen one before in my life.”

How did she manage that? Aether recognized its name; his mother, being from the Maelstrom Star Line, had once spoken of it—maybe. He couldn’t remember most things about her. “It’s a firmament vehicle crafted by a member of the Maelstrom Star Line.”

“You know what it does?” Gen’s eyes glimmered, and his spirits sank. He didn’t know.

“Do you want a car?” he asked, changing the topic. He was her credit dispenser after all, wasn’t he? That was why she had invited him and not Joule. A smile encroached his lips. As long as he alone was her money bag, he’d be content.

Gen shrugged. “Anything as long as it’s eligible for the elite Sparrow status. So I guess either a Nightingale, Bluejay, or Crimson Cardinal. Hoopoe would be way too expensive and possibly overkill.”

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“Would you like one?”

“A Hoopoe? No, thanks. I’m not the biggest fan of firmament vehicles. Sometimes the aura imbued into them makes them feel stuffy.” Gen leaned to the side, peering over the shoulder of the customer speaking to the receptionist. “This place is too low-end to carry a Hoopoe.”

Was it really? They must have had some connection to the Maelstrom Star Line if they dared to use an Azure Dragon within their logo. Aether said, “The Firmament Bridge might have one.”

“I thought only mercenaries gathered there. And there’s one.” She pointed towards a red vehicle hidden in the far corner. Odd place to put a Hoopoe.

“Traders, too,” Aether said, “and most of them carry contraband items, but they’re hard to deal with since they’re all aura-breakers.”

“Is that so?” Gen said, her body tilting to take another glance. She mumbled, “Man, what’s taking so long?”

“What are we doing to Ember Nestling?”

She grinned. “Just wait. It’s gonna be great.”

“You’re interesting,” he said, to which she raised a brow. He explained, “In addition to being sharp, you’re also interesting.”

“Petty.” Her grin grew large. “I like to see myself as petty.”

“Why?”

“Because I am?”

Aether leaned, nose hovering a fingerbreadth from her face. She flushed red. Hmm, maybe he was a bit too close. “Who said you were?”

“Well, I—” Her words cut short, and she suddenly faced the customer who had been speaking to the receptionist.

He was glowering at them, and Aether recognized his boxy face to be that of the adopted elite Nathaniel Hoopoe.

“Faggots,” Nathaniel scoffed.

Gen clung onto Aether. “Dude, you’re just jealous. You can’t hope to have such a hottie.”

Aether wrapped an arm around her waist. She suddenly wobbled, and he caught her before she could fall. So she wanted him to carry her? To incite the man? He lifted her into his arms, and he took her silence as approval of his actions.

“You two are disgusting,” Nathaniel said. He ordered the receptionist, “Send them out.”

Gen snorted. “What makes you think he’ll listen to you? You’re just an arrogant, spoiled brat.”

“You’re an ignorant commoner, ” the elite retorted. Then, he strode towards the exit.

Gen raised her middle finger and shouted, “Look here!” Her body squirmed, and Aether struggled to hold her properly. The heat rose within him.

“Child,” Nathaniel spat. The doors swung shut behind him.

“Take that!” Gen yelled and further waved her middle finger as if the man could see it through the wall.

“Satisfied?” Aether asked, and she grinned.

“Nothing is more calming than petty remarks.”

He pressed her body into his own, grip tightening. “You just want to argue with someone, don’t you?”

“I can’t scream at Prince Janus for Ascending’s coma.”

Aether motioned at the receptionist. “There’s another person for you to yell at.”

“Nah, man. I’m good.” She looked into his eyes and blinked. “So, when are you planning to put me down?”

Blushing behind the ears, he averted his gaze and lowered her to her feet.

“You two should leave,” the receptionist said.

Gen smirked. “Even if we had planned to buy that Hoopoe?”

Aether smiled and patted her head. She still wanted to cause trouble.

“Please, leave,” the receptionist said, but his voice had lost confidence. Maybe he feared they really did come to buy a Hoopoe.

“No, really,” Gen said and pointed at the red Hoopoe. “We want that one from the Sage Corporation. The Hoopoe NH Mark III. The one imbued with the aura break of that one Nathaniel dude.”

“Nathaniel Hoopoe,” Aether whispered into her ear. “That’s the elite you had just insulted.”

“What? No way.” Gen narrowed her eyes. “I don’t believe you. And who names themselves after a line of cars? It’s a horrible name.”

“Gen.” Aether raised a brow.

“Okay, okay, you can’t get worse than mine. Still, that guy was Nathaniel Hoopoe?”

“Yes, he is,” the receptionist replied.

Gen barred her teeth. “We two lovebirds are talking. Don’t butt in.”

Lovebirds? Aether liked the sound of that. He nuzzled her head, smelling her sweet, brown-sugar scent. She jabbed him in the kidney, and judging from her ferocity and his throbbing pain, he guessed she hadn’t restrained her strength.

She whispered, “I already ignored the pat to my head, so don’t push it and don’t take me seriously. It was a joke.”

He lied, “I was just playing.”

She shot him a glare then faced the receptionist. “Okay, desk person. Are you going to call your salesperson so we can buy your Hoopoe?”

The man frowned. “You still want to—”

“What would be more fun than to buy the guy’s own car after he told you to get rid of us?” Gen puffed her chest.

“I-I think you guys should leave. For me, please.”

Gen shook her head then gazed at Aether. Her eyes revealed desire for his support, so he nodded, more than obliged to give it. He dialed a number and placed the phone to his ear.

“Hello?” answered an elderly man called the Hoopoe Sage. He regularly supplied Aether with military-grade vehicles, and he had seventeen children—most adopted and all part of his business. This included Nathaniel Hoopoe.

“It’s me. I met Nathaniel today.”

There was an exasperated groan. “If he insulted you, please forgive him, General Aether. He’s very hot-blooded and nothing like the young you. Did you say you had wanted a Hoopoe with twin core modifications and a mounted magma turret? We can work out a deal; just don’t be too harsh on him.”

“Who are you speaking to?” Gen tiptoed to bridge the distance between her and his phone.

Aether lowered it and placed it on speaker. He said, “I’m at an Eternal Nest, and your son told the staff to have me leave.”

“Eternal Nest...” the phone buzzed. “Do I deal to them?”

Aether nodded.

After a moment of silence, he heard a sigh. “Young people... If you just nodded, must I remind you I cannot see your nods?”

“He did,” Gen said. Her lips peeled into a wide smile that reach the ends of her cheeks. “So, are you the Hoopoe Sage? Dude, I love your vehicles!”

Aether resisted a jealous snort. Who said she didn’t want a Hoopoe because they felt stuffy?

“Oh, who is this young lad? Are you a new recruit? That’s good. I was beginning to think the general would forever live understaffed.”

“He is weird, isn’t he?” Gen said. Aether’s frown further deepened, and the receptionist shivered.

“Quite bold, aren’t you?” The elderly man’s voice came through as oddly vibrant. “I think you may be the bravest knight I have ever met.”

Gen’s head bobbed up and down. “Why? Because I’m honest? Somebody needs to teach this jerk some manners.”

“As long as it’s you,” Aether mumbled. She raised a brow; her smile fell. He shrugged, unsure what had overcome him to say something like that. Could this be the ancient adage “love changes you”?

“Ah, right.” The Hoopoe Sage asked, “Who are you by the way? Have we met before?”

“Nope,” Gen said. Her response sounded abnormally crisp.

“That’s a lie. I can tell when people lie.”

Aether snorted at the man’s audacity to question her. “He’s my husband-to-be.”

There was a loud thud on the other side of the phone, and it disconnected.

Gen nudged him. “Man, I knew you were cold, but I never thought your words could outright kill somebody.”

Unsure how to reply, Aether repeated her words: “Don’t take me seriously. It was a joke.”

“No one expects you to ever settle down. Oh, but I guess you’re marrying Reya. Good job.” Gen gave him a thumbs-up, and it soured his mood more than the Hoopoe Sage’s exaggerated response.

Redirecting his anger, Aether glowered at the receptionist. The scrawny man shivered and hid behind the desk as his whitened fingers clasped its edge. The desk phone rang, and he jumped and yelped. Eyes avoiding Aether’s, the man answered the call.

“What do you think that call is about?” Gen asked, a wry smile returning to her lips. She must have thought of something nefarious.

“Fired, I hope.”

She hummed. “That seems like a light punishment.”

The receptionist hung up the phone. Jaw quivering, he opened his mouth but said no words.

Aether smiled, and there was no happiness behind it, only cold aura. “Do something for me, and I’ll help you keep your job.”

“Anything!” the receptionist said.

“We’ll be buying all these vehicles.” Aether’s finger waved about the store. “And you’ll be gifting them, all but the Hoopoe, to Nathaniel. Sign it ‘from the faggots.’ ”

Gen whispered, “I never thought you had a fun side.”

Feeling proud, he smiled. He hadn’t felt so happy about himself since before the death of his sister.