"She promised not to ; buh broke it . It's fine. I'm cool with that," Dragan said casually, waving a hand as he leaned back into the plush embrace of the Vals sofa.
"Close the door behind me," he added, glancing at the smart assistant hovering near the entrance, "and play a different Salzburg song."
There was a momentary pause before the assistant's voice floated through the air. "Would you like something from the current archives or a selection from centuries past?"
Dragan smiled faintly. "Let's go centuries back."
"Alright… digging through the classical vaults," the assistant chirped. "This is what I found—(Someone like you ) by Adele, archived under 'Retro Harmony Collection.'"
The room filled with soft, elegant notes as the music began to play. It was gentle and haunting, the melody shimmering like old sunlight filtering through lace curtains. The sound of Adele's voice—warm, soulful, and timeless—spread through the air like silk.
Dragan shifted slightly, letting the Vals sofa adjust. The cushions responded instantly, reshaping to support his back. At his command, it extended into a half-reclined position, humming softly as the built-in massage unit activated and began to knead his shoulders with just the right pressure.
This wasn't just any sofa—it was the Vals series-8. A highly advanced piece of tech-art: it could transform into a full bed, had heat zones, aromatherapy modules, and could even glide around the room silently, all on command. Dragan had personalized his with a sleek obsidian finish and embedded lighting that pulsed with the music.
"Hey," he said lazily, glancing at the holo-panel on the wall, "show me the video of the music you're playing."
The assistant's voice replied almost apologetically. "Sorry, but the visual data is missing from our archives. Our system is highly programmed and fully upgraded. The most recent android version I can tune into is Android 182… and for iOS, it's version 184. Stooping below those standards would be… difficult."
Dragan chuckled under his breath. "You've got the Super-RTI model in your core system, don't you?"
There was a brief pause, then the bot responded with an almost sheepish tone. "Yeah, you're a genius. Okay… let me try something. I'll use the RTI model and dig deeper into the buried layers of archived media."
A flicker of static rippled through the air as the assistant shifted protocols.
"Give me a minute," the boy-bot added, his voice now more fluid, more humanlike. "It might take some time… but I think I can get it."
Dragan gave a satisfied nod and closed his eyes, letting the music take over while the system worked. The air smelled faintly of cedar and ozone—his favorite preset. But inside the room, it was calm. Almost like he was drifting between worlds—one foot in the future, the other in memories that refused to fade.
Dragan lay back on the bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling, thoughts racing.
He needed access to those archives—books, tablets, drives—anything that might still hold the biomedical tech knowledge lost in the shipwreck. Without them, he was flying blind. But maybe… just maybe, someone else had them.
"He's a tech-biologist," Dragan murmured to himself. "If anyone may have those materials, it's him."
He sat up, suddenly frustrated. I should've asked him… But it was too late now. The man had already left.
Without wasting another second, Dragan got to his feet and moved toward the AI door panel. With a swift swipe, the door slid open with a quiet hum. He stepped out into the corridor, his mind locked on the task ahead.
The lights above cast soft reflections across the high-gloss marble floor, which shimmered with embedded tech displays flickering beneath the surface like silent waves. Dragan kept his gaze low, not wanting to draw attention—not wanting to be noticed as he passed.
As he walked, he approached Aurelia's door. His steps slowed.
He didn't stop, just kept walking, head slightly bowed, eyes still on the glowing floor beneath him.
He had to be careful.
He had to find the answers.
Before time ran out.
"Hey, Reks."
He froze the moment he heard the voice as he passed by her room. His heart skipped a beat. It was her voice—or at least, it sounded like her.
He stood there, tense and uncertain, listening.
"She needs you. She's getting emotional, heartbroken."
The voice felt warm, familiar, yet mechanical. It had Aurelia's tone, but there was something artificial about it. He realized it was her AI, modeled after her voice.
"Heartbroken?" he whispered to himself, his thoughts spinning. "Could it be because of the prince?"
He hesitated, torn between walking away and walking in. But if she was vulnerable now, maybe this was his moment. Maybe she would finally see him for who he was.
"This is my chance," he thought.
Without wasting another second, he stepped up to the door. It creaked slightly as it opened, but he moved silently, careful not to make a sound.
Inside, the room was dim and still. Aurelia lay on her bed with a sleep mask over her eyes. Her head rested on a slightly elevated pillow, her breathing calm, unaware of his presence.
"Yeah... but stop," she said suddenly, her voice quiet, full of strain. "I'm not broken. I just can't think straight."
She was talking to her AI. Releasing her thoughts into the quiet, searching for clarity.
"He's come to apologize. At least hear him out," the bot responded in a gentle, supportive tone.
Reks stood motionless, watching her. Something in his chest tightened.
She didn't know he was there, but every word she spoke wrapped around him. He wanted to say something, but his throat felt dry. There was more in that room than silence. There was pain, hesitation, hope—and something between them that hadn't fully taken shape.
The sound was soothing to her ears. She placed a hand over her face, gently removing the massager mask. Slowly, she looked around the room, searching for any sign of Dragan. But he wasn't there.
A soft chuckle escaped her lips as she leaned back and slid the mask on again.
"Quiet, bot. I'm trying to hold myself together." she murmured.
The bot went quiet.
Dragan had already slipped out. He had waited just long enough to make sure she was asleep, then left without a word. Another moment missed. Another sting of disappointment. Aurelia had hoped to see him again, to speak, to feel close to him once more. But the chance passed her by.
He made his way down the hallway with determination. If there was one person who could help him recover the lost information, it was Dr. Emerin. The shipwreck had taken everything—books, tablets, drives, all gone. But Emerin, being a tech-biologist like him, might still have similar data or at least a way to recreate it.
Back in Aurelia's room, she sat upright in bed, lost in thought. Her mind danced between memories of the prince and feelings for Dragan. Who truly belonged in her heart? Who was right for her?
Across the complex, a soft bell rang in Emerin's quarters. He wasn't in his main suite but in his private lab, sipping coffee and reviewing some notes. At the sound, he turned his head toward the tech gate monitor.
"Who's at the door?" he asked, setting his cup down.
The projector blinked to life, revealing the image of Dragan Reks standing at the entrance.
"Open the door," Emerin instructed his AI system.
With a smooth mechanical sound, the lock disengaged.
...