A notification flickered into view before Lazarus's eyes, issued by Mistral through her NeuroGear.
[Outgoing gate deactivated. Next group, please. Reactivation in 10 minutes. Incoming gate will be activated shortly. Please stand clear of Small Gate No. 2.]
Lazarus glanced toward the adjacent gate.
Between four pillars, a black void bloomed into a square frame. Lightning crackled along its edges—then the darkness folded inward and vanished.
Four men appeared where it had been, carts piled high with crates. They stood still for a moment, dazed, eyes unfocused. Then one of them looked up at the arrival billboard. Understanding dawned. Without a word, they pushed their carts forward and filed out through the arrival platform.
"Next—Class 5C and 5D. Form an orderly line," the teacher called.
"Let's go," Laurel said.
Their group moved into position, arranging themselves into a square on the gate platform.
Shingo drifted closer to one of the pillars, eyes shining with curiosity. Bob stacked Lexus's suitcases beside him—too many of them, crowding the platform. The luggage took up so much space that Lazarus and Laurel had to step closer, their shoulders brushing Anna's just to make room.
"Shingo, stay inside the yellow line," the teacher warned. "And Bob—watch the suitcases. They're spilling out."
Once he confirmed everyone was within the boundary, he gave a short nod.
Mistral initiated the transfer.
Lightning snapped along the pillars as the machine hummed to life. Even though Lazarus had gone through a gate before, her stomach tightened all the same. She clasped the straps of her backpack, breathing shallowly.
"I was just curious," Shingo said suddenly. "I wanted to check whether this was a DX-version gate or an AX-version."
"DX? AX?" Lazarus tilted her head.
"Ah—DX means—" Shingo turned toward her, eager to explain.
Before he could finish, the world collapsed.
Darkness swallowed her vision.
Space stretched and smeared, points of light unraveling into long, luminous streams as reality itself seemed to melt. The sensation was neither falling nor flying—just drifting, suspended in a pocket of warped gravity.
This was the hyperlane.
The space between space.
Her body felt light. Unanchored. As if the universe had briefly forgotten which way was down.
Then a calm voice echoed inside her mind.
[Transfer complete. Welcome to Mars Space Station. Please stand clear of yellow lines. Warp gate will be reactivated in five minutes.]
Lazarus felt her body float—then settle back onto the ground.
Thanks to the station's artificial gravity, she could stand and walk, but it wasn't the same as Mars's. The difference was subtle yet jarring, and her steps wavered as if the floor were slightly out of sync with her body.
Rows upon rows of warp gates stretched across the vast hall, each framed by four pillars and crowned with glowing destination signs. Every colony was assigned a pair—one for departures, one for arrivals—turning the station into a sprawling maze of portals that hummed with restrained power.
"Lazarus, hurry up!" Shingo said, snapping her out of her stupor. He leaned closer, grinning. "If you stay too long, you'll glitch and turn into a monster."
"Eh?!" Anna yelped, panic flashing across her face as she hurried forward, dragging her suitcases behind her. "Is that really true?!"
"Of course not." Laurel sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Don't spread ridiculous rumors. There are dozens of safety systems designed to prevent exactly that." She glanced around at the congested platform. "Still, move quickly. We're blocking other travelers."
Sometimes, it felt like she was the only mature one here.
Lazarus stepped off the platform, steadying herself. Her gait was calm, composed. She'd walked this corridor before—alone, guided only by Mistral—but now, surrounded by her classmates, it felt different.
Like the beginning of something.
The children scattered with excitement, drawn to the wide observation panels lining the station. On one side stretched a sea of stars; on the other, the blazing disk of the sun. Teachers, weary-eyed, tried and failed to corral them.
"Please don't wander too far," the teacher called. "The starcruiser will dock in thirty minutes. We must be at the gate in twenty minutes . You may take photos and visit the viewing deck, but remember—we'll board at Gate Three."
No one listened.
With that, the students scattered like leaves caught in the wind, each rushing toward a scenic vantage point, snapping images for their research.
"Waa! It's beautiful!" someone exclaimed.
A student hopped onto the observation deck near the gate. Outside the reinforced glass, a massive starship maneuvered into position—over five hundred meters wide and fifty meters tall—its thrusters flaring gently as it aligned itself with the station's docking clamps.
Smartboxes appeared in eager hands: small, screenless devices designed for memory storage and input, linked directly to their NeuroGears. Silent flashes marked the moment as the students captured the sight.
Most colonies used artificial skies indoors. Real space—true, open darkness—was something people rarely saw.
It was black. Endless. And yet the countless motes of light scattered across it formed a beauty no projection could ever imitate.
Lazarus understood the feeling well. The first time she'd seen this view, she'd stood frozen for nearly a full minute—until a stewardess gently tapped her shoulder and asked her to move along.
"You don't have a smartbox, Lazarus?" Anna asked as she took another picture. "This is a rare moment. You should treasure it."
With the NeuroGear at her neck, Anna pulled the image from her smartbox directly into her vision, turning it slightly, smiling as she admired it.
"I didn't bring any electronic gear today," Lazarus said with a small smile. "Including smartboxes."
It wasn't entirely by choice. Hers were bulky—outdated models weighing over ten kilograms. Taking photos with them was more trouble than it was worth, so she'd left them behind.
"Then let me take one of you!" Anna said brightly. "I'll send it to you later."
"Really? Thanks!" Lazarus's eyes lit up. "Can I rely on you for future photos too?"
She couldn't help it—she was genuinely excited. She'd only been here for two months, and Anna had been the first to reach out to her like this.
"Of course!"
"Mistral," Anna said casually, "share this photo with Lazarus."
[Confirmed. The photo has been sent to Lazarus's cloud account.]
"Eh? Just share the folder," Anna added. "I'm taking more than one picture—it's a hassle otherwise."
[Confirmed. Folder shared. Lazarus now has access to: School Trip.]
The students lingered on the space bridge, snapping photos of distant stars and the massive cruiser waiting ahead. Step by step, the vast openness of space narrowed behind them as the airlock doors grew closer.
Lazarus looked up.
The Starcruiser LX666 towered above her, its sleek silver hull stretching impossibly far, its surface catching starlight like polished steel. Up close, its sheer scale made her feel small—like an ant crawling toward a cathedral.
"Oh—right," Lazarus said suddenly. "Laurel, I checked the itinerary earlier…"
She hesitated.
"Why doesn't it list a return date?"
"My father said it has something to do with gate clearance and maintenance. That's why they couldn't ascertain the return date. It might be delayed for days or even months," Laurel replied. "I'm not completely sure, but different star systems follow different rules."
"Even though we're all under the United Space Federation?" Anna tilted her head.
"Strange, right? But that's how it works. He said there's some anti-immigrant sentiment between systems."
"We should all be friends with each other…" Lazarus said quietly.
"Well, it's not really our problem," Laurel said, puffing out her chest. "We have passports. Our paperwork is complete."
"M-5 Elementary School, please gather! We are boarding the starcruiser!"
The teacher's voice echoed through the corridor. With Mistral's assistance, notifications flared before every student's eyes, urging them toward the boarding gate. Excitement surged immediately as students rushed forward, eager to be among the first aboard.
"Bob! Hurry up!" Lexus barked, his voice booming down the passage. "If we miss the port, it'll be your fault!"
He strode ahead without slowing, his cronies forcing others aside. Bob staggered behind him, burdened by four floating suitcases bobbing erratically around him.
"Geez…" Laurel sighed, glancing at the growing chaos. "We're supposed to be calm and collected. At this rate, the teacher's definitely going to scold us."
"Please stay with your assigned group. Class 5C, over here," a teacher snapped, intercepting Lexus. "Once everyone is present, then we'll board."
"Geez! This starcruiser belongs to my papa!" Lexus protested. "Why do I have to line up to board my own ship?"
"Starcruisers are leased under USF authorization, not owned outright by your father," the teacher replied coolly. "We appreciate his donation, but for everyone's safety, please follow the rules."
"Tch. Adults are so annoying." Lexus stomped back toward his group, muttering under his breath.
"Hmph," Laurel scoffed. "Flaunting your father's money and influence… how unsightly. Try being a scholarship student—or at least ranking in the top five."
She winced as she said it, eyeing Lexus like something unpleasant she'd stepped on.
"What did you say?" Lexus snapped, glaring.
"Enough." Lazarus stepped between them before it could escalate. "We're in the same group. Let's calm down, okay? We just need to wait our turn and behave properly."
"Hmph." Laurel turned away, arms crossed.
Lexus did the same.
"Our journey's going to be rough," Shingo murmured under his breath.
Anna nodded silently as they lined up, crossing the space bridge toward the starcruiser's open hatch.
They crossed into the cruiser.
A soft hiss marked the pressure equalizing—then light flooded in.
"Whoa… it's so big," Lazarus murmured.
This was nothing like the cramped intercolony shuttle she'd boarded before, where seats lined narrow aisles like an oversized subway car. Instead, the entrance opened into a vast atrium. The polished floor gleamed—not steel, but layered wood, a luxury material even the wealthy rarely used in space. Overhead, a chandelier cast warm, golden light across the hall.
It felt less like a ship… and more like a grand hotel.
Lazarus stared, momentarily forgetting to move. The observation deck beyond looked like a luxury resort lobby suspended among the stars.
"Lazarus," someone called.
Before she could wander off, Laurel gently guided the group toward the reception desk.
"Registration first," Laurel said. "Then we can look around."
Right. Registration.
Lazarus's hand tightened around her backpack strap as they approached the counter. She hurriedly checked inside, praying she hadn't forgotten the itinerary—or worse, the tickets.
"Thank you for choosing Starcruiser LX666," the receptionist said with a practiced smile. "May I see your ID?"
"Yes." Laurel bowed politely. "Mistral, please provide my student ID."
She placed her suitcase onto the waiting cart beside her.
"Confirmed. Your cabin is Room 145," the receptionist replied smoothly. "Please leave your belongings here. They will be delivered to your room shortly. We hope you enjoy your stay aboard Starcruiser LX666."
"Thank you."
Then the receptionist turned to Lazarus.
Her heart skipped.
She couldn't find it.
Her fingers rummaged through her backpack again—too fast, too clumsy. The ticket wasn't there. Had she forgotten to load it into Mistral?
A soft chime echoed in her mind.
[You have set your ID visibility to public.
Starcruiser LX666 Employee #215 has accessed your student ID.]
"Um… Mistral?" Lazarus asked quietly, shifting her backpack as she stepped forward.
"Confirmed," the receptionist said without missing a beat. "Your cabin is Room 146. Please leave your belongings here. They will be delivered to your cabin. We hope you enjoy your stay aboard Starcruiser LX666."
"What's wrong?" Laurel asked, glancing back.
"Whew…" Lazarus exhaled, shoulders relaxing. "I thought we needed a physical ticket. I couldn't find anything inside Mistral."
"Of course not," Laurel said. "Your ID is enough. The school knew some of us would forget anyway."
That made Lazarus laugh softly.
"Wait—we each have our own room?" Lazarus asked, genuinely surprised.
She didn't even want to imagine how expensive a private cabin would be on a luxury starcruiser like this.
"Yes," the receptionist replied smoothly. "All students from M-5 Elementary School are assigned individual rooms. Please enjoy your stay aboard Starcruiser LX666."
Lazarus blinked.
Her own room.
On a ship like this.
Before she could process it fully, a presence cut in from the side.
"Step aside, orphan girl." Lexus pushed forward, shouldering past without apology. His eyes flicked to Lazarus, narrowing slightly—measuring, dismissive.
She instinctively tightened her grip on her backpack strap.
This is incredible! We're really aboard Starcruiser LX666! Mistral said my father's program was incorporated into its systems. I can't wait to see his work in action. If I study hard, maybe I can graduate early and help him someday.
~ Shingo