Iris Chapi:
My heart leapt. It was him. My father. The crowd behind me, who had followed every second with rapt attention, burst into a unified cry of joy. Everyone had been waiting for this moment.
"Yes, Father, I hear you! Did your walk with Pavel go well?" I replied, a radiant smile on my lips as a tear of joy rolled down my cheek.
My father, with his reassuring voice and that lightness that always warmed my heart, answered:
"Yes, it was extraordinary. Mars is a fascinating place—I hope I'll be able to return there one day. And you? It seems you ran into a bit of trouble?"
"Nothing too serious. Some people came to help me," I replied with a slight smile.
As the communication stabilized, Pavel took over the livestream, recounting to the audience the adventure of the Liberty crew on Mars. My father sent me videos recorded onboard—fascinating images of that red, mysterious planet—while I finally enjoyed a quiet moment to speak with him in private.
"I'm glad everything went well on your side, Father," I said, my heart warmed by the thought of finally being able to speak with him. Even though our separation was approaching, I didn't want it to end on a note of uncertainty.
"You've changed, my dear."
"Oh, you mean my golden appearance? It's true my color has shifted toward yellow."
"Not just that," he replied gently. "I can see that all of this has been difficult for you."
I could almost see his smile and feel his hand resting over his heart through the transmission.
"Yes… it was truly horrible. I thought I wouldn't make it," I said, bursting into tears, a smile of relief still on my lips. I was so happy to see him. So many emotions ran through me in this form that I was almost trembling.
"I'm sorry, my sweet girl, for all the trials you had to face alone," he continued, his voice filled with compassion. "But know this—I have always trusted you. I knew you would overcome those obstacles. You are a grown girl now, strong, capable of facing any challenge. And I am so proud of you."
In that moment, I felt an overwhelming wave of gratitude and love.
"Thank you, Dad… I love you," I replied, my voice trembling with sincere emotion. "But humanity… it really is just as you described. It was even harder to realize it for myself. Everything is made of shades of gray. And yet, despite all that, I found light in certain people: Seraphina and Daniel. They helped me repair the Tonbogiri."
My father smiled gently. "I'm happy you've made new connections, Iris. Those bonds are what matter most. But what exactly happened?"
I took a deep breath and told him part of what had occurred: the sudden shutdown of the Tonbogiri, the events involving the politicians and the military. As I spoke, I could almost feel his irritation rising—torn between worry and anger. We both knew this kind of complication was to be expected, but neither of us had hoped to face it so soon, nor in this way.
"I see… That's not surprising, unfortunately. But I'm proud of you for handling all of this with such courage," he replied, his voice carrying a quiet strength.
I nodded softly before answering in a more serious tone.
"The Tonbogiri won't be able to operate much longer. The modifications we made were only temporary. They allowed us to guide you and maintain communication—but the system will soon reach its limits."
There was a silence filled with mutual understanding.
"I understand," he finally said. "The most important thing is that we're connected—even if only for a brief moment. The rest, we'll handle. Like we always do."
I looked one last time at the beam of light—that cord of energy linking our two worlds—aware that our time together was limited, yet infinitely grateful for this moment.
The tension was palpable. Every passing second brought us closer to an inevitable separation.
"Dad… I need to tell you something. Once you're back on Earth, don't return to France," I said, my voice trembling but firm.
"Why, my dear? How am I supposed to find you again?" he asked, confusion visible in his eyes. The image began to pixelate as the connection gradually weakened.
"The military is waiting for exactly that… Outside the barn, they're preparing to storm the place and seize everything they can find. Given the politicians' reaction, I'm afraid prison is what awaits you most of all. You need to go to Atlantis. I'm certain you'll be safe there."
He seemed to panic. "Why, my daughter? You know what that means…" Droplets of water floated around him—tears suspended in zero gravity—revealing his distress. My heart tightened. I also caught a glimpse of Pavel's concerned face in the background of the livestream. He was doing his best to distract the audience while we spoke privately, and I felt relieved knowing he was by my father's side.
"Dad, we talked about this even before your departure. The situation demands it. We may not reunite immediately when you return, but I know we'll see each other again. I trust you." I wanted to send him all the love I could, despite the immense distance separating us.
He awkwardly wiped away the floating tears before replying, calmer now. "I'll do everything I can to make our separation brief. I promise."
"I know you will," I said, reassured that he had accepted my decision.
"But why Atlantis? I don't understand that choice," he added, still hesitant.
"It's Seraphina—the one who helped me repair the Tonbogiri. She told me about Selene."
"Are you sure? How could that even be possible?"
"They asked her to pass a message on to me… 'Selene awaits the return of her Archangel.'"
My father looked embarrassed, his cheeks faintly coloring. "Yes… only she would say something like that. But that would mean… she knows her?"
"Not exactly. It seems someone above her, from her country, is in contact with her. She went silent—probably for confidentiality reasons—despite my attempts to learn more during the repairs." I don't personally know this Selene, and until now I thought she was just a product of his imagination. Which makes all of this even more unsettling.
"All right. In that case, I trust you. We'll go to Atlantis. Besides, I was supposed to drop Pavel off there anyway—he's originally from there."
"Dad… I'm afraid our separation is coming soon…" The liquid nitrogen reserves were almost depleted, and the cannon's lens, subjected to intense thermal stress, was showing alarming signs of failure. Sinister creaking echoed around me; each crack pulled me back to reality as the connection weakened minute by minute. Our time was running out. He placed a hand over his heart, a gesture of affection.
"No matter what happens, I will come get you. I promise."
The first shards of glass could be heard breaking—the lens was beginning to fracture dangerously. The beam of light connecting our two worlds dimmed, lightning streaks racing through it, announcing the imminent end of this fragile link.
"I know you will, Dad. I'll wait for you, no matter how long it takes." I didn't want to cry in front of him. I wanted to remain strong until the end, so he wouldn't worry about me.
"I love you, my daughter… Know that you are everything I have ever wanted," he said, his voice filled with all the tenderness and pride of a father, as the connection began to stutter.
Then, with a thunderous explosion, the lens gave way. The beam of light extinguished abruptly, leaving me alone in a deafening silence. Only a few residual flashes still streaked across the sky, fading slowly into nothingness.
In a faint voice, almost swallowed by emotion, I whispered my final word before everything disappeared:
"Dad…"