S-2879 • L8 Libeluna • D23 Sintoli
(Gregorian calendar equivalent: December 10, 2134)
"Libeluna brings the surrender that frees. Sintoli attunes wind and word. The thread of the world sings in low light. The story moves forward, steady, in flow."
A snowy place.
Sky and earth merge.
In the distance, a forest of tundra firs rises.
From within it, a solitary gray she-wolf emerges.
I feel her amber eyes on me, calling.
I try to reach her.
An invisible force keeps pulling me away.
I want.
I need.
My whole body ignites with necessity.
Each attempt returns me to the same place.
Each return, a violent ache.
It hurts to keep trying to reach her.
I cry.
I wake.
Three in the morning.
Would she be calling me to the other world?
Through the window, the city gleams.
Lights blurred by damp glass.
Rain falls in a tangled chaos, mirroring my own.
She—a breath of spring in autumn—yet capable of being winter itself.
A solar cycle without her.
A cycle in which the skies grow heavy,
the winds scream their agonies,
the earth weakens, I fall and I grow numb.
Since her death, this numbness lingers in my existence.
I pull my eyes away from the window.
Would feeling unhappy be selfish,
when I know many would trade places with me?
I exhale.
I fall back asleep.
I lived in the uppermost levels of the city of São Paulo.
The First City.
I was born in the Zenith, as they call the higher floors—
an empire suspended above the city, where light drifts away from the streets below.
Living always at great heights makes the fall inevitable.
I put on a black coat and touched my abdomen.
There was still warmth in my womb, but it was beginning to recede inward;
a weaving slowly transmuting as I entered my Sorceress phase.
I took the elevator down to reception.
The receptionist android, Andi, wished me good morning.
I returned it.
I passed the old man who walked through the atrium—Pavel.
Android engineer at Kokusai.
I always saw him and wished him good morning.
He watched me in silence.
An inexpressive face.
I headed to the Golden Line station.
The aerotrain arrived within seconds.
I sat by the window.
The city unfolded beneath me.
Titanic structures vanished into polluted haze.
Spirals of airways intertwined between buildings.
Vertical skyscrapers wrapped in suspended gardens.
Holograms erupted from every direction.
Adware bloomed in shifting pixels:
A new android.
A revolutionary synthetic protein.
I opened the bioscreen to check the news.
Everything sounded artificial, distant from what truly mattered.
I turned my gaze back to the glass.
The hospital appeared on the horizon.
Its mirrored structure reflected the neutral tones of its surroundings.
At the entrance, the android linked to me, Takashi, was waiting.
"Good morning, Doctor."
"Good morning."
I was working on a nanodevice—CogniSynth.
Part of Project Jaburu.
A nanotechnology designed to access memories within the human brain.
Memories…
Too many memories.
The day dragged on.
Each minute, a battle.
Each second, an agonizing effort to push her from my mind.
But she always returned.
Always her.
Always Maia.
She invaded relentlessly.
Broke through barriers.
Remained.
I wished the night would bring relief.
I longed for a new dawn that might lift the weight.
Maybe tomorrow it will be easier to breathe.
I finished my work.
Gathered my things to leave.
Takashi approached, carrying a large envelope in his hands, labeled in elegant, slanted handwriting.
Her handwriting.
"This arrived."
My chest froze.
My hands trembled.
My mouth went dry.
My eyes widened.
My heart raced.
My thoughts fractured into frantic beats.
I took the envelope.
"Tha—"
My voice faltered, shaking.
"—nk you."
"Do you need anything else?"
"N-no… I… y-you can go."
The door closed.
I tore the seal open.
Something fell.
A red phone.
Foldable. Obsolete.
A pocket watch.
Analog. From the eighties.
A golden compass.
And a piece of paper.
Geographical coordinates.
What did it mean?
I picked up the letter.
Only a few words—
but enough for the world to split apart.
A tightening heart.
Eyes flooded with tears.
I could barely hold the paper.
Akiko,How are you?Perhaps your anger and sorrow have faded.I hope so.I remained silent about many things.I know.Your heart broke.Mine did too.I wish things had been different.So I prepared this.You want so badly to enter my world?All your questions will be answered.Are you ready for that?If you are, go to the coordinates on the 25th at 11 p.m.If not, continue on your path.Remember me always.With affection,Maia.
Strength left me for a moment.
The letter slipped from my hands.
My body collapsed.
I stared at my distorted reflection on the gleaming surface.
Everything spun.
I forgot how to breathe.
In those words, I heard her voice.
I heard my name in her mouth.
Even after a solar cycle, I still felt my soul intertwined with hers.
It took time to regain my senses.
My breath.
The present.
The tears dried.
My fingers stopped trembling.
I picked up the objects.
Studied the coordinates.
Placed them in my bag.
The letter was missing.
I exhaled heavily.
Retrieved it.
That night, I had the same dream.
This time, when I took a step, the wolf lifted her head.
Still, she remained far away.
Under the Waning Moon
I wished I could sleep the entire day.
I reread Maia's letter thousands of times.
Trying to understand.
Why?
Why, after a solar cycle, did she send this?
Maia died.
I knew that.
So what did she mean by that letter?
How did she send it?
I sent Takashi a message:
📩 "Find out who sent the white envelope."
I prepared some food, even without appetite.
Each reluctant bite scratched on the way down.
I remained in bed, lethargic.
Staring at the wall.
My mind burned with Maia.
Truthfully, everything in me ignited with her.
Throbbed with reborn pain.
I wanted to forget.
I took a deep breath.
As the saying goes:
"Wisdom only comes from a full stomach."
I ate.
And in the next instant, the memory came.
The day I met her.
The recollection surged, overwhelming, consuming me entirely—
beyond my will to stop it.