They arrived at a pair of massive doors guarded by several armed men. At that hour, they were in the middle of a barbecue, gathered around a makeshift grill. A battered robotic arm, protruding from a metal box full of frayed wires and loose plates, struggled to turn chunks of meat.
Eiden, smelling the smoke and the tempting aroma, couldn't help but wonder if they sold karaage in the Fractals.
As soon as they saw them approaching, one of the guards elbowed another who was laughing uproariously at some joke.
"Fily!" Krev greeted, raising a hand toward the one who had been laughing.
The man sprang to his feet just as Lyra passed by. Tall and lanky, his reaction was clumsy but enthusiastic.
"I didn't know you were on a mission, Grand Vesper!" he exclaimed, bringing his fist to his chest with a martial gesture, followed by an open hand raised above it—a kind of ritual salute.
The other guards echoed the salute in unison, with surprising synchronicity.
"At ease. We're going down," Lyra replied naturally, in a much more relaxed tone than the soldiers.
"Follow me," Fily said, adjusting his rifle as he moved toward the double doors.
They were made of welded scrap and interlocked metal cylinders, reinforced with rusted plates and rivets.
Pierre and Krev greeted some of the guards with pats and smiles. Eiden, however, felt all eyes on him. A stranger's face. And it made him feel like he was holding a drawn weapon—which wasn't entirely untrue.
Passing through the doors, they stepped onto a massive suspended platform. Each step echoed in the metal, and Eiden felt a tingling in his legs as he imagined what lay beneath: a colossal, bottomless pit.
They followed Fily across the unstable platform to a large booth at the edge of the abyss. The guard pressed a button next to the doors, which opened with a high-pitched, rusty screech.
It was an elevator.
"I'll escort you to the barracks," Fily said, stepping inside.
"Not necessary. We're going home first," Lyra stated, firm but polite.
Fily nodded, though his gaze locked onto Eiden.
"May I ask who the outsider is?"
His tone was polite, but tense.
Krev jumped in before Lyra could answer, throwing an arm around Eiden.
"Of course! He's one of my colle—"
"You may not, Officer Fily," Lyra interrupted sharply, entering the elevator without looking back. "It's an official matter."
Krev smiled innocently at the guard, shrugging as if to say, "You know how she is."
Fily repeated the earlier salute, serious now. As he pressed the button to close the doors from the outside, he cast Eiden one last look—hard as stone.
Inside the elevator, only a flickering fluorescent light struggled to illuminate the space. Cracks in the metal walls let in slivers of natural light.
Lyra approached a panel and slid her finger down a seemingly endless list of levels. She selected -53. Then, -72.
The elevator began its descent with metallic groans, the grinding of taut cables and worn gears filling the space.
Lyra turned toward Krev and Pierre, arms akimbo.
"Remember: you two were out partying. We bumped into each other near the station... because Pierre wrecked his drifter in an illegal race."
"Got it!" Krev replied, snapping a dramatic salute.
Lyra shook her head, resigned.
"Let us know how things go later," Pierre said, visibly concerned.
"Of course. Don't worry," Lyra replied, though her quick glance at Eiden suggested otherwise.
Eiden said nothing. He kept turning over what he'd seen: the reverent respect toward Lyra. They had called her "Grand Vesper" — and not out of protocol. Here, she was something more than just a girl.
Maybe he had no idea what he'd gotten himself into. And he was starting to fear what he might discover.
He remembered hearing the term "Fractals" in an old report... but never imagined they would be like this.
The past Eiden did remember was dark, full of bad decisions. And before he could trust anyone—even Lyra—he needed to know how much she really knew about him. Because the big question still had no answer:
What did they want from him, and why?
The bracelet on his wrist remained calm, though he had felt a few erratic pulses. As if it were trying to wake up.
The voices, however, hadn't returned since he used the black blade the night before.
"Not your style?" Lyra asked suddenly.
Eiden jumped. He hadn't realized how close she was.
"Huh? What do you mean?"
Lyra opened her arms slightly, as if presenting the place.
"This. The Fractals."
"Ah... It's impressive. Though also... a little intimidating," Eiden admitted, with his usual crooked smile.
Lyra looked into his eyes for a moment.
"Uh-huh," she finally said in a neutral tone, turning her gaze back forward.
Eiden frowned. Was she disappointed with his reaction?
From the other end of the elevator, Krev shot him a knowing look, giving a thumbs-up with a smile that seemed to say: You're doing great, champ.
Silence settled in. Only the sound of the descending mechanism and distant voices filtering through the cracks accompanied them. Natural light faded as they descended.
By the time they reached level -40, near total darkness reigned.
"Avoid running into Cireya, at least at first," Pierre advised Lyra. "And be careful with Kai. Word is he's back today. If he gets in a mood with Osric, you might have a serious pain in the ass."
"I know. I'll handle it," Lyra said with a tired sigh. "Hope to see you at the ceremonial dinner."
"Absolutely! I wouldn't miss the gossip," Krev said, excited.
"There won't be any gossip! We know nothing, remember?" Pierre scolded, growing tense.
Krev let out a groan like a scolded child.
"Time for you to go," Lyra said with a faint smile.
Eiden caught the gesture: a silent way of thanking them for their concern.
But he also felt the pressure. If what Lyra had done put her in danger... what could he expect for himself?
The elevator reached level -53. The doors opened with a screeching groan. Light hit them like a flash.
Before them stretched a residential zone hanging over the abyss. Houses carved into the walls, metal walkways spanning the void, shops, glowing signs, even an arcade zone in the distance.
A spiral path descended toward deeper levels, like a city dug into an impossible crater.
Pierre and Krev exited the elevator. As they turned, Pierre pointed to a small, round golden device in his jacket pocket.
"Call if anything happens."
"I will. We're heading home first," Lyra said, raising a hand in farewell.
The doors began to close.
"And don't do anything I wouldn't do!" Krev shouted playfully.
"I'll—!" Lyra began to reply, but the doors closed before she could punch the mechanic again.
"Still worth it!" Krev's laughter echoed from afar.
The elevator resumed its descent.
Lyra let out another sigh.
Now they were truly alone.
When she turned, she found him watching her intently.
She immediately averted her gaze and spun back to face the elevator door.
"What happens now?" Eiden asked after a moment, his tone sincere, tinged with concern.
Lyra didn't answer right away.
The silence lingered as the elevator continued downward, the number "-63" flashing briefly on the flickering screen. Only when they passed level -64 did her voice emerge, firm but distant:
"First, we go to my place. You'll clean up. Then, I'll check your injuries," she listed without turning to face him, as if reading from protocol.
Eiden frowned, surprised. Amid everything that had happened, he had completely forgotten about his physical state. He vaguely remembered how, upon escaping the Grunts' den, he could barely stand. But then... that injection. It had restored his body almost instantly.
As if Lyra had read his mind, she added,
"The drug we gave you is strong, but temporary. You'll feel the side effects soon—nausea, fatigue, maybe worse," she explained, her voice tinged with warning. "We also need to check your neural system. Since you're chipped, they might've injected a virus… or something worse. I don't want surprises."
"I understand…" Eiden nodded, bringing a hand to his side, feeling his torso.
He had bruises and a dull sting beneath his ribs.
The jacket he wore was borrowed, too big, probably from one of Krev's old clothing reserves. He was bare-chested underneath—something he only now noticed. His pants were worn, patched up with makeshift stitching; his boots caked in dry mud and old blood.
The elevator screeched to a longer-than-usual halt. Level -72. The doors opened with a metallic sigh, and a wave of warm light flooded the cabin.
This area was different.
Another residential sector, yes—but unlike the last one, it had greenery. Hanging gardens between platforms, small trees growing in pots anchored to steel railings, and even an improvised park where dozens of children ran around rusty metal structures turned into playgrounds.
The air was cleaner, though still tinged with that urban blend of oil and damp stone.
The homes followed the typical carved-into-rock layout, but some jutted out, decorated with colorful façades and tiny front yards with lights or figures sculpted from recycled metal.
Fewer people walked the streets—mostly elderly moving slowly, and families speaking quietly from makeshift benches.
Definitely a better-off neighborhood… or at least, as much as one could be within the Fractals.
Lyra stepped out of the elevator without a word, moving with confidence. Eiden followed, slower, but curious. He looked around like someone who had forgotten what a home looked like.
"This your sector?" he asked, surprised, maybe even a little reverent.
"Yes," Lyra replied without stopping. "It's quiet. Sometimes too much."
Eiden nodded, though he wasn't convinced. The place felt like a fragile bubble, barely suspended over the abyss. He said nothing. Instead, he watched the people's faces, the way they greeted Lyra as she passed—some with respect, others with a hint of fear masked as politeness.
She was someone important here. And the more he noticed it, the more the question gnawed at him:
Who the hell was she really?
A group of children came running up when they saw her.
"Sister Ly! It's Sister Ly!" shouted a small boy, eyes bright with excitement, followed by two others who could barely contain their enthusiasm.
"Good morning to Zampe! Playing squad leader again?" Lyra asked, crouching to his height and softening her tone.
"Of course! I'm a Luminar, Neya's my Umbral, and Rami is my Vesper," the little one announced proudly, pointing at his teammates.
Eiden figured those were ranks. If Lyra was a Grand Vesper, then the children were mimicking the actual hierarchy.
"Well, remember the missions that earn the most points are the ones where you help the elders and your parents," Lyra told them solemnly, before flashing a smile and a wink.
Eiden felt an unexpected flutter in his stomach. His expression softened, and he had to look away when he felt warmth creeping into his cheeks. He wasn't used to seeing her like this…
The kids exchanged a few laughs with her until Zampe noticed Eiden.
"Who's that with you?" he asked, arms crossed, giving him a serious once-over.
Lyra glanced at Eiden, then offered a half-smile.
"He's watching over me. A city warrior."
Zampe inspected him without shame, circling as if assessing a malfunctioning machine.
"He looks weak," he declared, as Lyra covered her mouth, stifling a laugh.
"Don't let appearances fool you," she replied. "You think I'd let someone protect me if he couldn't even protect himself?"
Zampe frowned, thinking it over.
"I guess not…"
"His eyes look like beets!" Neya suddenly blurted, head tilted.
Eiden scratched the back of his neck, uncomfortable. He'd never been good with kids.
"It's true! They're violet!" Rami added, pointing. "He's the beet warrior!"
"Awesome!" Neya and Zampe shouted in unison, clapping.
Lyra couldn't hold it anymore. She laughed softly, eyes sparkling with genuine joy. Despite the "humiliation," Eiden couldn't stop watching her—mesmerized by that rare, vibrant expression.
"I wish I had a cool nickname like that," muttered Zampe, visibly jealous.
"When you're a real Luminar, you'll get to choose any name you want," Lyra said with an encouraging smile. "But for now, the beet warrior and I have a mission."
"Whoa! I hope I get to go on one with you someday, Sister Ly!"
"You will," she promised. "For now, finish your daily tasks. Tomorrow, I'll assign new missions."
As they said goodbye, the kids wouldn't let Eiden leave without fist-bumping them. He felt ridiculous, but said nothing—just nodded, awkward, and went along with it.
"Let's go, before more show up," Lyra muttered, her serious tone returning as they walked down the street.
They walked for about ten minutes through spiral paths winding between hanging platforms, until Lyra stopped in front of a house.
Lyra's home stood on an elevated platform, anchored to the rocky wall as if it had grown from the stone itself. It wasn't large, but it was solid. The structure blended rusted metal panels with smooth concrete sections.
Artificial vines crept along the façade's edges, lit by tiny solar lights embedded among the fake leaves. An old copper railing framed a small terrace overlooking the abyss, where a hanging chair swayed in the wind.
The front door was old, reinforced with rivets and digital seals. Beside it, a weathered metal plaque barely showed the Fractal symbol. It wasn't luxurious, but it gave off a sense of functionality, resilience—and home.
Lyra placed her index finger on the knob. The biometric reader glowed for a few seconds, then a mechanical click sounded as the internal locks released. She pushed the door open and walked in briskly, without looking back.
Eiden lingered at the threshold, unsure whether to follow or wait. He looked at the doorframe, the rust marks on the edges, the tiny ocular sensors silently scanning from the corners. It felt like a sleeping animal tolerating his presence… but only for now.
He was about to knock again when he heard Lyra's voice from inside:
"What are you waiting for?!" she shouted, dry but not exactly annoyed.
Eiden exhaled the breath he'd been holding and stepped forward. As he crossed the threshold, the door shut behind him with a soft thud.
The house welcomed him with a mix of metallic smells, burnt circuits, and something like spiced tea. The lighting was dim, coming from hanging lamps that seemed built from scrap parts, casting long shadows across the stone-and-metal walls.
The entrance opened into an open-floor space, combining austere warmth with accessible technology. The exposed stone walls were partially covered with copper panels tangled in embedded cables and conduits, softly glowing with a bluish light.
Some areas showed signs of handmade repairs: visible rivets, precision-welded metal patches, and engraved plates with ancient symbols.
Above, exposed ventilation tubes and flickering amber lights gave the space a calm, almost intimate atmosphere, in sharp contrast with the harshness of the Fractal environment.
The place wasn't big, but it was cared for. No unnecessary decorations—just memories and tools. It was clear Lyra valued practicality over luxury… though she hadn't entirely given up the warmth of a home.
"The bathroom's through that door," Lyra said, pointing down a hallway to the left, just before the stairs.
"Got it… if you'll excuse me," Eiden replied, slightly thrown off by the impatience in her tone.
He walked forward without looking directly at her. He felt her right behind him, which only made him more tense. When he reached the door, he cast a quick glance over his shoulder.
"And what will you be doing meanwhile?" he asked, a bit nervously, with the irrational suspicion that she meant to watch him.
"I'm going to shower too," she answered without hesitation, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Eiden froze in place. It took him a second to process her reply. He swallowed discreetly, trying to figure out if he'd really heard what he thought he had.