Neru's Estate
Auralis Haven, Alpine Confederation Zone
New Geneva, European Federation Zone
United Earth Federation
2435 A.D.
Neru sat cross-legged within a glowing meditation circle, her posture perfectly still. The ring around her was inlaid with embedded gems—amber, sapphire, and pale green—each pulsing in slow, rhythmic sequence. Streams of Lumenis energy flowed from the gems into her body, converging at the crest on her chest before spiraling upward like faint tendrils of light.
The air in the room shimmered faintly. Naia could feel it in the back of her skull—pressure building and ebbing with each pulse of the circle. The synchronization process was intense; it required her to attune her own resonance so Neru could stabilize the connection to the satellite uplink. Now that the process was complete, the strain was fading, though a dull headache throbbed just behind her eyes.
She sat in the corner of the chamber, leaning back against a smooth glass panel, breathing through the residual ache. The scent of ionized air still lingered.
Ellira approached quietly, carrying a delicate porcelain cup that steamed with golden tea. The faint aroma of lumen blossoms softened the sterile hum of the data chamber. She crouched beside Naia, her expression gentle.
"Here," Ellira said, offering the cup.
Naia took it with a small nod. "Thanks."
Ellira gave her arm a reassuring squeeze before standing, her gaze shifting toward the center of the room where Neru sat.
The elder Luminia's eyes opened slowly, the twin prisms of her irises refracting light in a dozen directions at once. She took a breath, unfolding herself from the circle. The Lumenis streams dissipated around her, fading like mist as she rose to her feet and stretched—every movement measured, feline, deliberate. Her awareness brushed across the room, and Naia could tell from the flicker of Neru's expression that she'd already noticed the tension between her and Ellira.
"So," Naia said, setting down her cup and straightening. "The information?"
Neru's lips curved faintly. She lifted a hand, tracing a simple motion through the air. Light gathered at her fingertips and expanded outward, forming a holo-screen above the circle. Lines of code and encrypted sigils unraveled into hundreds of translucent panels filled with data—project files, diagrams, personnel photos, and strings of technical notation.
"There's a lot," Neru murmured. "But this caught my attention."
One screen expanded, revealing an old corporate insignia and a cluster of researcher profiles. Naia recognized Malcolm Hynes's face among them. His file was tagged with a title at the top:
Project Heliospire.
"The last thing Malcolm worked on with Celestex," Neru said, her voice low. "Codenamed Project Heliospire."
Naia leaned forward, eyes narrowing. "What is it?"
"A prototype system," Neru said. "A fusion between synthetic sockets and Luminian cores—a hybrid interface designed to merge human and Luminian resonance into a single unified network. If it worked, it wouldn't just allow coexistence. It would synchronize us—permanently."
For a moment, no one spoke. The only sound came from the faint hum of the holo-screens, the data shifting like waves of light.
Naia's chest tightened. "He was building a hybrid interface," she said quietly. The words felt heavy in her throat, the implications forming faster than she could voice them.
Her eyes flicked toward Ellira—just in time to catch the brief look that passed between her and Neru. A moment of unspoken discomfort. Subtle, but Naia's senses caught it—the slight dip in Ellira's breathing, the way her resonance wavered just a fraction. Something about this project unsettled her.
Naia's gaze lingered on the two Luminia, sharp and calculating. Naia opened her mouth to speak, but the look in Ellira's eyes stopped her cold. There was something there—fear, grief, maybe even shame—that told her now wasn't the time to press. So she swallowed her words and turned back toward the floating documents that Neru had conjured.
The holographic pages shimmered with pale light, code and data scrolling across them like living threads. Naia leaned in, scanning the lines of text that unfolded in front of her.
"Malcolm worked on this project for twenty years," she murmured, her tone steady at first. "Before he finally achieved success around…"
Her voice faltered.
The further she read, the tighter her stomach became. The files went beyond standard research—beyond anything the UEF would have ever sanctioned. Experiment logs. Classified visual data. Medical transcripts full of redacted names. Naia's fingers tensed at her side as the reality began to sink in.
"Play the recordings," she said quietly.
Neru hesitated for a fraction of a second, then nodded and gestured toward the holo-display. The panels shifted, forming a single widescreen projection. Static flickered before the footage began.
Naia braced herself—then saw.
Humans and Luminia strapped to tables, their bodies marked with glowing incision lines. Scientists in Celestex lab coats move methodically, their voices clinical, detached. The air was filled with muted screams, flashes of light, and the sound of resonance fields tearing flesh and crystal alike.
Naia's throat tightened. These weren't tests; they were violations.
Ellira turned away almost immediately. Her breathing hitched as she pressed a hand to her mouth, unable to watch the rest. The golden hue of her tears caught the light—Luminian tears, liquid radiance refracting into fragile prisms as they fell down her cheeks.
Naia looked at her, an unfamiliar ache twisting in her chest. For a brief, human moment, she wanted to reach out—to steady her, to offer something like comfort. But the screens still burned in front of her, and what they revealed demanded every ounce of her focus.
Her gaze hardened as she turned back to the data. "Genetic splicing of Luminian genes into human subjects," she said slowly, reading the text aloud. "To replicate the Lumenis circulatory system and core functionality."
Her hand clenched around the edge of the table. "And here—reverse applications. Modification of Luminia with human genetic material."
She looked up at Neru, her voice low and sharp. "They weren't trying to unify our species through diplomacy. They were trying to merge them through force."
Neru's expression was grim. The reflection of the holo-screens flickered in her mirrored eyes. "And Malcolm Hynes led the entire operation."
Naia exhaled through her nose, slow and controlled, though she could feel her pulse hammering. "He wasn't building coexistence," she said bitterly. "He was building a hybrid."
The silence that followed was heavy. The light from the holo-screens painted their faces in shifting shades—white, violet, and gold—while the ghostly cries from the archived footage still echoed faintly in the room, refusing to fade.
"The project wasn't truly successful," Naia said, scrolling through another data log, "until a doctor was brought in to oversee the final phase. A Dr. Heloth Seryon."
The holographic file shifted, projecting an image of the man in question.
Naia studied the photo closely. Dr. Seryon stood tall, his build lean but strong, the kind of posture that belonged to someone used to authority. His hair was a metallic gold that caught the light even in the static image, and his face bore the distinctive tribal markings of a Luminian scientist—precise, symmetrical lines that indicated both rank and research lineage. But his skin… it was wrong.
It wasn't photonic or crystalline as it should have been. It was carbon-based—human. Flesh and blood.
Even through the projection, he looked uncanny, caught somewhere between worlds. The faint shimmer that usually accompanied a Luminian glamour was absent. There was no ethereal radiance, no luminous sheen in his eyes. If this was an illusion, it was imperfect. If it wasn't, then Dr. Seryon was something else entirely.
Naia's jaw tightened. "He made the project successful," she said quietly. "At least for a while."
She expanded another set of documents—progress reports, termination logs, and interdepartmental memos. "And then… the project was shut down."
Ellira leaned in, her voice tentative. "Shut down? By who?"
"House Celestex," Naia replied. "Officially, the cost of success was too high. Too many failures. Too many lives lost. The internal report called it a 'compromise of ethical standards,' but…"—she gestured toward the earlier footage still paused on one of the screens—"…I'd call it what it was. Atrocity."
Neru crossed her arms, the faint light from the displays dancing across her mirrored eyes. "Typical," she muttered. "When corporations can't control their creation, they bury it."
Naia nodded, scrolling to the final page of the file. "There's more. A transference order for Malcolm Hynes, dated three months after the project's termination. He was reassigned from the Celestex Research Division to the Diplomatic Department—specifically the unit responsible for the Human-Luminia Gem Treaty Accord."
Neru's brow furrowed. "So they moved him from genetic engineering to diplomacy? That's not a transfer—it's exile."
"Or containment," Ellira said. "Celestex didn't shut the project down because they lost interest. They shut it down because they succeeded—then realized what that success meant." Her voice dropped, quiet but heavy. "Malcolm wasn't advocating for coexistence because he believed in it. He was trying to atone for it."
The room fell silent again. The holo-screens flickered with the last image of Dr. Seryon, his expression unreadable, eyes gleaming faintly in the artificial light—caught between human shadow and Luminian glow.
Naia wasn't sure if atonement was what Malcolm had been going for. His sudden switch to diplomacy still didn't sit right with her.
If Malcolm had been involved in something like this—an atrocity buried under layers of corporate secrecy—then there was no way House Celestex would have simply let him go. Unless, of course, they needed him somewhere.
Before she could think further, alarms blared through the room. The upper panels in the ceiling flared crimson, casting long red shadows across the walls.
Neru's head snapped up. The mirrored lenses of her eyes fractured into reflections as she summoned light-clones around her—thin projections of herself that flickered in all directions.
"Something's coming," she said sharply. "Damn it—Celestex just activated a counter-intrusion. They know someone accessed the vault. They're triangulating the signal—to here."
Ellira's face paled. "Neru, I'm sorry. We should—"
"They're here," Neru interrupted.
The lights cut out, plunging the chamber into darkness. For a heartbeat, everything was still. Then the emergency lights kicked on, flooding the room in blood-red glow.
The glass window shattered.
Three figures burst through in a rush of air and shards, landing soundlessly. They wore black matte suits marked with faint silver circuitry, their movements cold and deliberate. The oppressive pressure in the room told Naia what they were before the word left her lips.
"Assassins," she said, narrowing her eyes. "It seems Celestex works fast."
One was already behind her—his blade pressed against her neck, its edge humming faintly with energized Lumenis. The others had their weapons drawn, their hovering blades aimed at Ellira and Neru.
"You should have known better than to stick your nose where it doesn't belong," the assassin behind her whispered, his tone sharp and mocking. "I thought you Dynasties knew better than that."
"I do," Naia said quietly.
She moved.
The assassin slashed, but the blade met only light—Naia's body dissolving into a spray of white motes.
A blink later, she was behind him.
Her first strike cracked across his helmet. The second shattered it. Then came the rest—rapid, precise blows, each one charged with Lumenis power. Her prosthetic arm glowed with streaks of gold, every punch landing with a sonic burst that warped the air.
The assassin's body convulsed under the barrage, armor folding under the weight of her strikes. She didn't stop until his form was a broken silhouette.
Naia stepped back, bracing her prosthetic arm against her left to charge one final hit. Energy spiraled through the plating, bright enough to light the room.
The punch landed with the force of a detonation.
The assassin flew backward into the others, his head gone before his body hit the ground. Fragments of armor scattered like shattered glass.
Naia straightened, exhaling as the glow along her arm dimmed. Around her, the remaining assassins lay still—Ellira and Neru untouched, frozen by the sudden ferocity of what they'd just witnessed.
"Looks like Celestex doesn't play around," Naia said, her tone even.
Then, more quietly, she added, "Neither do I."
"Idiot," one of the remaining assassins hissed.
It was a woman's voice—sharp, controlled, but edged with contempt. She stepped forward from the haze of shattered glass, twin fan blades in her hands, their edges glinting with embedded Gems that pulsed in sync with her breath. "We told him to stop underestimating his enemies."
The third assassin moved behind her, his tone low and calm—almost admiring. "Tenzo didn't underestimate her."
He raised his head slightly, the black visor reflecting Naia's silhouette. "Naia Vasselheim," he said, almost as if reciting from a file. "Born into the Vasselheim Dynasty. Recorded as possessing the highest potential of her generation. Accepted into the GSA Academy at thirteen—the youngest candidate in its history."
He took a step forward, the hum of his blade cutting softly through the silence. "Graduated at sixteen. Also the youngest to ever do so. Her future was meant to burn bright."
The woman twirled her fans once, the gems along their spines catching the red emergency light. "And yet," she said, "here she is—buried in the Negotiation and Intelligence Division as an analyst."
Her voice dripped with disdain. "A wasted prodigy."
Naia said nothing. Her prosthetic hand flexed once, the faint glow returning to its seams. The air between them crackled with Lumenis' charge.
"Keep talking," she said evenly, eyes locked on the woman's twin fans. "You'll end up just like him."
"Then she'll be worthy of a fight," the largest of the remaining assassins said at last, his voice deep and gravel-edged. He stepped forward from the crimson haze, towering over the others, his armored frame easily twice Naia's width. The ground seemed to hum faintly beneath his boots with each slow, deliberate stride.
Naia's eyes narrowed, her focus flicking between them.
The pressure radiating from their bodies was unmistakable—Resonant tier. The same evolutionary scale she stood on. But even within that rank, power wasn't equal. She could feel the differences as clearly as a change in air pressure.
The woman with the twin fan blades had an abundance of Lumenis, a storm of energy swirling around her form. Her resonance was wild, plentiful, but crude—quantity without refinement.
The large man, though… his energy was denser, more deliberate. The quality of his Lumenis was sharper, compressed, his aura beating like a war drum.
And then there was the third one—the quiet one standing just behind them. His presence didn't flare like the others; it folded inward, almost hidden. But Naia could feel it—a subtle, suffocating gravity in the air, a pressure that made the tiny hairs on her neck stand on end.
His aura eclipsed the others entirely. Controlled. Lethal.
Naia's muscles tensed instinctively. That one's trouble.
Behind her, Ellira and Neru remained still. Naia could feel their unease radiating like static. Neither of them were built for frontline combat—Ellira's energy flowed like harmony, not aggression, and Neru's resonance patterns were tuned for perception, not destruction.
That meant this fight was hers alone.
Naia inhaled slowly, centering her breathing as her Lumenis field began to hum in sync with her heartbeat. The faint glow around her prosthetic arm returned, tracing golden circuitry across the alloy like veins of molten light.
It had been a long time since she'd fought for her life. But as the assassins spread out, surrounding her in a tightening triangle, the rhythm came back to her—natural, fluid, inevitable. Her pulse slowed. Her mind sharpened.
Like riding a bike, she thought grimly. A very bloody bike.
The woman assassin lunged first.
Her twin fan blades snapped open, edges flashing with razor-sharp resonance. She cut through the air with a spinning motion, releasing a torrent of compressed gale that howled toward Naia like a wall of invisible knives.
Naia didn't flinch.
Her stance shifted smoothly, her feet sliding across the glowing floor in a practiced pivot. Lumenis energy surged through her prosthetic arm, cloaking her fist in radiant light. The energy sharpened, forming clawed extensions along her fingers—elegant, precise, and lethal.
The gust reached her—then broke apart.
Naia vanished in a flicker of light, her afterimage shredded by the storm.
She reappeared behind the woman, her claws already reaching forward. The tips sank into the assassin's armored forearm, gripping hard enough to twist metal. With a single motion, Naia wrenched her around, forcing the woman to face her.
A flurry of strikes followed—Naia's claws slashing in rapid arcs, each blow a flash of concentrated Lumenis power. The air screamed with the speed of her attacks.
The woman reacted just in time, spinning her fans to form a barrier of wind that spiraled around her in a solid, translucent shell. The vortex caught Naia's assault head-on, dispersing the blows with explosive ripples of pressure.
The clash sent the woman flying backward across the chamber, crashing into the far wall in a burst of displaced air. Tiny thin blades of light had cut through the barrier, penetrating her suit and messing with her sockets.
Before she could turn to face the other assassin, the giant assassin, Jurgeim, charged. His massive fist came down with a thunderous crash, shaking the floor. The sound reverberated through the room, drowning out Ellira's startled cry.
"Naia!" Ellira shouted, stepping forward—only to have Neru's hand close around her arm.
"Wait," Neru said sharply. "Look."
Jurgeim lifted his hand from the cratered floor. Beneath it lay Naia's crushed body—shattered, motionless—until it dissolved into a dust of white light.
"A clone," the assassin leader said, his tone cold. Neru's mirrored eyes flickered.
"She copied my bloodline ability," she murmured, half impressed, half alarmed.
A shimmer appeared behind Jurgeim. Naia's real form emerged from the fading motes of light, her movements smooth, silent, and precise. She caught Jurgeim's massive arm as it swung toward her, twisting it in a clean, brutal rotation. Bone and synthetic muscle strained audibly.
Jurgeim roared and swung his other fist, but Naia was already in motion. She pivoted, her foot planting against his knee for leverage, then snapped his second arm backward with a sickening crack.
In the same motion, she vaulted up his chest, landing against his shoulder. Her prosthetic arm shifted—plating along the wrist sliding open, forming a short luminous blade that extended like a retractable spear.
Naia didn't hesitate. She drove the blade straight into his neck.
The strike was precise—through the joint of his armor, cutting deep. Jurgeim's roar turned into a wet gurgle as blood flickered chaotically across his suit. He staggered once, then collapsed forward, the light in his visor dying.
Naia landed lightly beside his fallen body, the glow from her prosthetic fading as she exhaled.
Three down. Her eyes lifted toward the leader—the one whose aura had made her uneasy from the start. He hadn't moved.
"Naia Vasselheim," the leader said, his voice calm yet heavy with restrained menace.
He stepped forward, surveying the devastation around him. Tenzo's headless body lay crumpled on the floor, smoke still rising from the stump of his neck. Tia—the woman with the fan blades—remained embedded in the wall where Naia's assault had thrown her. Even though she had shielded herself, the internal damage was obvious. Her body was still, lifeless.
And Jurgeim, the giant, lay sprawled across the shattered tiles, his neck torn open where Naia's blade had pierced clean through.
The assassin leader's visor tilted slightly. "It seems," he said, "you're truly a threat."
Without warning, he dragged his blade across his own palm. Blood poured freely, hissing as it touched the floor. Naia's eyes narrowed—the energy radiating from it was wrong. The Lumenis flowing through his veins had turned erratic, wild. She could feel it spreading, linking through the droplets as they scattered across the ground, forming a pulsating lattice of crimson light.
"Blood resonance," Naia muttered. "He's using it as a conduit."
Behind her, Ellira moved before Neru could stop her. She stepped forward, placing herself at Naia's back, her expression calm but determined.
A flare of golden light burst from her hand as a staff materialized—a long, elegant weapon of deep red alloy tipped with a golden crescent, a yellow gem set perfectly in its curve. The gem pulsed once, bright as a heartbeat.
In the same instant, the assassin's blood erupted.
Dozens of tendrils shot from the floor, sharp as spears, their velocity tearing through the air with a sonic crack. They converged on Naia in a single, murderous wave.
Ellira's staff spun in her grip.
"Aural'Thae Veyrath naé Thal-Seren Solé!" She chanted.
In a motion so fluid it looked instinctive, luminous filaments burst from her staff's gem, spreading into circular patterns that wrapped around them. The defensive weaves solidified midair, layer upon layer of glowing sigils that rippled like shields of glass.
The tendrils struck—then broke apart against the barrier in a shower of crimson sparks.
The leader—Enzo, Naia realized—lifted his gaze, studying the weave Ellira had formed. For the first time, his composure faltered.
Ellira's aura flooded the room.
The sheer volume of her Lumenis was staggering, its pressure expanding outward until the entire building thrummed with radiant force. The walls, the air, even the shattered glass seemed to hum in resonance with her. Compared to the assassins' energy, hers was transcendent—refined, vast.
Crown-tier.
Threads of light spilled from Ellira's body, snapping through the air in graceful arcs before latching onto Naia's form. Naia gasped as the connection stabilized—a warm surge of power blooming through her veins.
Her prosthetic arm flared, the golden circuits along its frame burning brighter than ever. The carat-energy output of her body spiked exponentially; her reserves of Lumenis swelled until her entire frame pulsed with radiant light.
Ellira's voice was steady. "I'll amplify your gem's output. Don't hold back."
Naia's lips curved in a fierce grin. "Wouldn't dream of it."
The floor beneath them cracked as the amplified resonance flooded the chamber, two harmonized heartbeats pounding as one—human and Luminia, burning brighter together than either could alone.