Sinn's indifference to his surroundings washed over the group like a cool breeze, leaving many with a sigh of relief.
To them, it seemed as if his mind drifted among distant galaxies, more captivated by the mysteries of the stars than by any conversation on Earth.
Seizing the moment, Jenny discreetly contacted headquarters through the sleek watch strapped to her wrist.
Within moments, several vehicles glided down from the sky, their metallic hulls gleaming in the sunlight. They descended gracefully, settling onto the ground with barely a whisper.
Each vehicle was a marvel of design—sleek lines and intricate patterns hinted at technology advanced enough for interstellar travel.
As the hatches slid open with a soft hiss, they revealed spacious interiors that seemed almost otherworldly.
The largest of these crafts hovered directly before Sinn. He regarded it with little surprise; after all, he had seen such wonders before, buried deep within Nel's memories.
His calm demeanor remained unshaken, especially after his recent exchange with Jenny. He understood her—her loyalty was unwavering.
With only a brief glance toward the others, Sinn strode forward and entered the vehicle—or perhaps it was more fitting to call it a spaceship.
Jenny slipped inside as well, Luna close behind her. Meanwhile, Luther gently handed the young pureblood in his arms to Max, one of his comrades.
Max's appearance was striking: muscular yet gentle arms, a buzzed head atop a stern, battle-worn face, and—most notably—a pair of cat ears perched atop his head.
His long, tailored coat accommodated a swishing tail, while his black, almost robotic attire gave him the air of a stylish detective or secret agent.
Luther climbed into the vehicle, noting its cavernous interior—ample space for many, though he preferred not to crowd it.
He instructed the rest of the team to board another craft and follow closely behind.
As he reached to close the automated door, Luna darted inside at the last second, causing Luther a flicker of discomfort.
After so much time spent with Luna, he knew well her impulsive, childlike nature—and her tendency to leap into trouble.
But what could he do? She was the captain's daughter.
A quiet sigh escaped Luther's lips as he finally sealed the door.
It was no longer his concern; after all, Captain—Luna's mother—was already inside the vehicle.
The vehicle glided effortlessly through the air, its movements guided by advanced AI technology.
Even as it soared above the city, cloaked in stealth, there was no hint of disturbance or turbulence—only a serene, almost unnatural smoothness.
Inside, an awkward calm settled over the passengers. Each person seemed absorbed in their own world, uninterested in conversation.
Jenny spoke quietly into her earpiece, her voice barely more than a whisper.
Across from her, Luther had closed his eyes, lost in meditation, clearly uninterested in engaging with anyone.
Sinn sat near the window, captivated by the vibrant tapestry of colors unfolding below. The city sprawled beneath them, neon lights weaving intricate patterns across the landscape.
Yet, Sinn's attention was repeatedly drawn away by Luna's piercing gaze—a silent, persistent scrutiny that unsettled him.
Though he could sense her irritation, there was no malice in her eyes, only a cold indifference and slight Irritation.
This pleased Sinn. From Nel's old memories, he recalled how Luna had always treated him with detachment, never responding to his brother's attempts at friendship or camaraderie.
She possessed a quiet confidence, seemingly unaffected by the presence of a pureblood like Nel.
It was this same indifference that Sinn mirrored during their first encounter; he was not his brother, and he cared little for Nel's feelings.
Yet, despite the differences between them, Sinn understood that this was still Nel's body. He felt compelled to honor his brother's final wish, even if he preferred to think of Nel as a sibling rather than another facet of himself.
This distinction helped Sinn cope with the discomfort of reliving Nel's memories—the pain of seeing his own heart impaled, the agony etched into every recollection.
Determined to sever all lingering connections, Sinn resolved to eliminate those responsible for Nel's suffering.
It was not his fault that Nel had died; rather, it was Nel's own ideals that led to his demise.
While Sinn understood his brother's convictions, he did not share them, and he vowed never to follow the same path.
…
After a ten-minute flight, the vehicle descended before a towering, luxurious building that stretched at least 210 meters into the sky.
Its neon-lit façade shimmered with captivating, intricate designs, standing out boldly among the other structures.
In Talcos City, where land was scarce and pollution rampant, buildings reached ever higher to accommodate the population.
Despite its impressive height, this tower was considered only medium-sized.
The planet itself remained unnamed, as every expedition beyond its boundaries had ended in failure.
Even venturing into the forests was perilous; pollution and mutations had given rise to terrifying creatures, and humans were not the only ones changed by time.
The vehicle hovered just above the ground before settling gently. Sinn and the others stepped out, following Jenny as she led them toward the reception desk.
The lounge was a spectacle of modern luxury—decorative sofas, sparkling chandeliers, holographic screens, and people with robotic limbs mingling with those sporting tails, unusual skin tones, or even double arms.
Sinn walked calmly behind Jenny, unfazed by the diversity of species and enhancements around him.
Most were the result of cybernetic implants or mutations, not unlike the antlered woman leading the way.
"Hey, Reta!" Jenny called out, her stern voice softened by a hint of maternal warmth.
The receptionist, Reta, looked up from her desk, her eyes lighting up as she recognized Jenny. She quickly rose to greet her superior.
"Captain, you're back already?" Reta exclaimed, surprise and excitement mingling in her tone. She glanced curiously at Sinn, the supposed pureblood who could speak.
Reta's short green hair framed an average face, but her intelligent eyes sparkled behind her glasses. After a brief exchange with Jenny, she turned to Sinn, struggling to contain her enthusiasm.
"Um, sir, hello. My name's Reta, and I'll be helping you settle in, if that's alright?" Her voice was respectful, tinged with curiosity rather than malice.
Sinn recognized her immediately. He remembered her fascination with purebloods and how she had often pestered Nel in the past. Yet, he also knew she was one of the few who had genuinely helped Nel when he needed it most.
Sinn's gaze lingered on Reta, his eyes cold and unblinking, giving him the air of a predator silently sizing up its prey.
The intensity of his stare sent a shiver down Reta's spine; being scrutinized by such an enigmatic creature was both terrifying and strangely exhilarating.
Her mind raced with wild fantasies, but before she could indulge them further, Sinn spoke.
"It's fine with me, as long as you're quiet," he said, his voice calm yet edged with command—a tone that brooked no argument.
Reta blinked in surprise, taken aback not only by the fact that he could speak, but also by the abruptness of his remark.
Disappointment flickered across her face; it seemed she would not be prying any secrets from this pureblood today.
Recovering quickly, Reta adopted a professional demeanor and began to lead Sinn toward his accommodations.
But before they had gone far, Sinn halted and addressed her again.
"Actually, I'll need you to do me a favor. I'm in need of some clothes—I'd rather not walk around dressed like this."
Reta's eyes drifted over Sinn's attire, lingering for a moment longer than necessary. Instead of disgust, a faint blush colored her cheeks, betraying her fascination.
Before Reta could respond, Jenny interjected briskly, informing Sinn that fresh clothes had already been sent to his room.
Jenny also told him that the special item he asked for, would take some time and it will be delivered the next day..
Sinn nodded, quietly pleased by Jenny's thoughtfulness, and made a mental note to repay her kindness in the future.
With his needs addressed, Sinn lost interest in further interaction.
He strode away without waiting for Reta, forcing her to hurry after him, heels clicking against the polished floor.
Despite her awkwardness, Reta maintained her professionalism, pointing out amenities and explaining where he could seek assistance if needed.
She also discreetly indicated restricted areas, though Sinn already knew their locations—he suspected her true motive was to steal glances at him and perhaps coax a conversation.
He tolerated her attention, indifferent to the curious stares of others, but found Reta's persistent gaze unsettling.
Seeking escape, he excused himself and made his way to the twelfth floor, arriving at room 229.
Without ceremony, he shut the door firmly in Reta's face, leaving her startled by how he knew his destination.
She shrugged off the mystery, assuming Jenny had informed him, and skipped back down the hallway toward the elevator, eager to return to the lobby.
It seemed Reta remembered there was more than one pureblood in residence. If she couldn't win the favor of one, she would try her luck with the other.
Her interest, however, bordered on obsession—a twisted sense of romance darker than mere infatuation.
Inside, Sinn surveyed his new quarters. The apartment was magnificent and spacious, boasting a gleaming bathroom, a balcony with glass panes offering a panoramic view of the city lights and distant stars, and a living room and kitchen designed for comfort and elegance.
The floors shone with a pristine polish, while the décor hinted at a black-and-white theme accented by golden lights and intricate gilded patterns, each detail crafted as if part of an art piece.
This luxurious space could easily accommodate a family of five in lavish comfort. The thought amused Sinn, and a quiet chuckle escaped him.
Humans, he mused, were fascinating creatures—capable of creating beauty and luxury, yet so often trapped by their own petty desires and fragile ambitions.