At the heart of Feril stands a grand monument, the Feril Air Railway Station, boasting over a hundred platforms and thirty soaring floors, each level interlinked, weaving together every corner of Ariella.
On one of those innumerable platforms, a train hissed to a stop, gliding atop unseen tracks. As the gates slid open, a throng of passengers surged forth, and among them emerged a young girl, a heavy bag slung over her shoulders, filled with tools, wires, and gear.
Her black hair cascaded just below her waist, shimmering with a silvery sheen under the station lights. Her eyes, bright with curiosity and wonder, scanned the bustling scene around her.
Clad in her well-worn mechanic's suit, marked by patches of black smoke and imbued with the unmistakable scent of motor oil, she wore her profession like a badge of honor.
She stepped into the elevator, which descended to the ground floor where a fleet of taxis awaited, their white bodies adorned with blue stripes, hovering just above the asphalt, eager for passengers.
Elara raised her hand slightly, and a taxi chimed in response, its door opening automatically to reveal an empty interior. As she settled into the seat, an AI voice chimed in, soft and soothing.
"Welcome. Thank you for choosing our taxi service. Please make yourself comfortable, Miss Elara Selena," it stated, recognizing her identity through facial recognition.
"Where would you like to go?" the AI inquired.
"Ariella University," Elara replied.
Warm air wafted from beneath her as the taxi ascended into the sky, gliding gracefully towards the university.
Elara leaned back against the plush seat, her bag securely stowed in the taxi's cabinet. She retrieved her phone, a translucent marvel, slim and light, and called her mother.
"Yes, I'm in the taxi," Elara said as soon as the call connected.
"Did you rest well?" her mother asked.
"Yes," she replied with a smile.
"Did you brush your teeth?"
"Yeah," her smile faltered slightly.
"Did you wear the dress I told you to?"
"N-No," her voice trembled, and her smile vanished, replaced by a flicker of fear.
"How many times must I remind you not to wear your mechanic's suit in public?" her mother began, launching into her familiar lecture, keeping her company throughout the ride.
***
In the forsaken town, nestled within the ruins of an ancient library, dust danced lazily in the flickering candlelight, suspended in the air like echoes of forgotten memories.
In the shadowy corner, beside a towering shelf brimming with countless invaluable tomes, Ren sat alone at an aged desk, the wavering flame casting restless shadows around him, all eager to unveil the secrets hidden within.
Then, Victor arrived, taking a seat across from him, his crimson eyes glowing under the dim light.
"WR-1," Victor uttered the name, and with it, the lights began to flicker, the atmosphere thickening, as Ren felt the weight of the air pressing down, his heart thumping vigorously in his chest.
"WR-1 is a project," Victor continued.
"It is classified, leaving us with scant information. However, it is rumored to be an experiment aimed at creating the most powerful machine—a machine capable of predicting anything, almost as if it could see the future.
Yet it failed. Though these are merely whispers, there is no concrete evidence to suggest that such a machine was ever attempted."
"What?" Ren interjected, "But the logbook states otherwise; it must have happened."
Victor met Ren's gaze. "Indeed, but that is all the information available. According to the book, it was a failure—that is the conclusion we can draw for now."
Ren pondered for a moment. "A machine? But what does Experiment 8 signify? Was the reason for its failure human emotions?" Just as Ren spiraled deeper into his thoughts, a loud bell began to clang.
It was the elderly Rose, entering with a plate bearing cups of tea and snacks for the two of them.
"Take a break and relax; don't overthink," she advised.
Ren and Victor paused their discussion, savoring the delightful tea as they allowed their minds to unwind.
After a brief respite, Ren shifted the conversation, inquiring about 'Code Black.'
"You have a keen eye," Victor smiled, rising to retrieve a piece of paper. "Are you familiar with Elemental Execution Codes?"
"Yes, they are codes for various elements and their activation," Ren replied, recalling from memory.
"Excellent. Then, how do you believe these codes function?" Victor leaned in closer, his curiosity piqued.
"Um," Ren hesitated, lost in uncertainty regarding the purpose of those codes.
Victor began to jot down 0s and 1s on the paper before passing it to Ren.
"Is this binary code?" Ren asked, examining the scrawl.
"Indeed," Victor chuckled, "You see, a computer must process vast amounts of information, and to simplify the input for decoding, a certain man devised binary codes."
Victor settled back into his chair, his gaze fixed intently on Ren. "In a similar vein, the codes serve as instructions to manipulate the elements, each corresponding to its nature.
Ren nodded, absorbing this new knowledge, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "But Code Black is different," Victor paused, allowing the weight of his words to settle before continuing.
"It instructs one to overdrive the power output, unlocking the full potential of any element—like an adrenaline rush, it heightens your senses and amplifies your strength," Victor elaborated.
Ren tilted his head, curiosity evident. "Isn't that a good thing?" he asked.
Victor laughed, disappointment flickering in his eyes. "No, my curious boy, absolute power is never without cost," he said, pulling out a slender bundle of stapled papers and handing it to Ren.
It detailed the testing of Code Black: "Subject lost control, self-combusting." On the following page, "Another failure, 6 dead." Page after page revealed only reports of calamity and destruction.
As Ren read, sweat beaded on his brow, his eyes reflecting a mixture of remorse and anger.
"But why? If it is impossible to control, then why squander so many lives?" he implored. For a fleeting moment, silence enveloped the room as both Rose and Victor shared a knowing glance.
"Ren, I believe it's time for you to head home; the darkness is creeping in," Victor suggested, noting how much time had slipped by during their conversation.
Yet Ren remained unsatisfied, his expression betraying his dissent.
"You are welcome here anytime. If I'm not around, seek out the old hag, or simply explore this treasure trove of knowledge. You are part of our group now," Victor encouraged, his smile broad and inviting.
Ren nodded, offering his farewells to both before dashing off toward home.
In playful retaliation, the old lady toasted an apple at Victor's head for his jest about the old hag.
"That boy certainly reminds me of him," she remarked, a smile gracing her lips.
"Yes," Victor agreed, his gaze lingering on the open entrance gate.
***
Twenty-eight years ago, within the hallowed halls of the same library, once revered as the heart of all knowledge, people from every corner of the globe flocked there, drawn by the allure of books that could be found nowhere else.
At the counter sat the same lady, though in those days, she appeared remarkably beautiful and youthful, her raven hair cascading gracefully to her toes, her brown eyes shimmering with a hint of mischief. She remained engrossed in her reading, not delving into the realms of scholarly science or obscure historical facts, but rather indulging in the whimsical worlds of comics and manga.
Amidst a sea of diligent students and ambitious individuals, two small children stood out: one with fiery crimson eyes, brimming with boundless energy and a scatterbrained demeanor, and the other, in stark contrast, possessing pale green pupils, a languid posture, yet a mind that sparkled with brilliance.
The spirited child dashed toward the lady, brimming with curiosity. "Why are you reading children's books?" he inquired.
The lady cast him a sardonic glance. "You of all people should talk. I read them because I adore the stories. Perhaps you should concentrate on your own studies," she replied with a teasing tone.
The child, stung by her words, grew indignant, demanding justice for what he felt was an injustice. He toiled harder than his slothful counterpart, yet why did he consistently find himself in second place?
The languid boy chuckled at the commotion. "I excel because I learn, not merely memorize."
"What's the difference?" the energetic boy asked, puzzled.
"By learning, you can teach others; memorization simply embeds information within yourself, albeit temporarily," he explained.
The lady, intrigued, listened intently to the surprisingly mature discourse emanating from such a young boy.
"It's getting rather late. Why don't you both have some cookies and tea?" she suggested. At her words, both children leaped with delight, their youthful appetites stirring with the promise of sweet treats.