"You're picking it up faster than most PhDs I've known," Eretz said, leaning against the doorframe.
Tenza didn't look up, her eyes locked on the equations in front of her. "My daughter would've understood this years ago," she replied softly. Her voice wavered, though her hands remained steady. "She's always been light-years ahead. Still is."
Eretz shifted uncomfortably, his gaze dropping to the floor. "My brother used to be like that," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "He could turn particle physics into bedtime stories when we were kids. Made it seem… magical." He hesitated, then added, "It's been five years since I last saw him."
Tenza finally glanced at him, her exhaustion evident in her eyes. "Five years is a long time."
"Too long," Eretz admitted. "Combat deployments, they say. But when he talked about science, it was like... the world stopped spinning for a while." He pushed off the frame. "Let's take a break. You've been at this for hours."
"Just a few more minutes," Tenza said, waving him off. She pointed at the equations. "If we can harness this, create a focused beam... maybe we could reach across galaxies. Maybe even..." She trailed off, her voice faltering. "Maybe even reach those who seem unreachable."
Eretz didn't respond immediately. Instead, he walked over to the balcony and opened the door. "Sometimes," he said, his tone heavy, "the people closest to us feel the furthest away."
The evening air swept into the room, cool and fragrant with the scent of the flower valley below. Tenza followed him out, leaning against the railing. "Camilla used to say science wasn't about being the smartest person in the room," she said quietly. "It was about loving how much there is to learn."
"She sounds wise," Eretz said, a faint smile on his lips. His fingers tightened on the railing. "My brother… he would've loved this view. I just wish I could show it to him."
The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of gold and crimson. In the fading light, Tenza's weary face softened, and for a moment, the weight of her struggle seemed to lift.
"You'll reach her," Eretz said, his voice low but resolute. "Time and space can stretch, but they can't break what matters."
Tenza smiled faintly. "And your brother would be proud of you, you know. For everything you're doing."
Eretz turned away slightly, his expression unreadable. "Maybe," he murmured. "Or maybe he wouldn't recognize me at all."
As they returned to the room, Tenza sank into her chair, exhaustion overtaking her. Eretz watched her, the torn papers and bloodied equations strewn around her like battle scars. His chest tightened. He thought of his brother, of the bridges he had burned, and of the price he was about to pay.
"Some bridges," he whispered to the silent room, "are harder to rebuild than others."
Eretz moved through the darkened lab like a ghost, his footsteps soundless against the cold metal floor. The faint hum of the machines seemed louder in the silence, a judgmental chorus accompanying his every step. Tenza's steady breathing was the only human sound, a fragile thread tethering him to the reality of what he was about to do.
He reached the main terminal, his hands trembling as he initiated the transfer. The files spilled across the screen—hours of research, countless failures and triumphs. He paused as the GRB simulation data appeared, the memory of its success washing over him. He had laughed and cried when it worked, marveling at the tiny pinprick of light that had torn through their virtual barriers. "We're not just reaching for the stars anymore," he had said. "We're speaking their language."
His hands moved mechanically through the files. Molecular coherence injection theories. The meteoric ore composition analyses. Newtonian6's quantum tunneling calculations that will take Tenza months to grasp. Each deletion felt like burning a page from humanity's future.
They don't deserve this technology, his contacts had said. Latin American universities lack the prestige, the infrastructure. This belongs in European institutions.
A bitter taste filled his mouth as he remembered the pride in the research team's eyes. They'd done what the prestigious universities claimed was impossible. Created something raw and new, like watching the birth of a star. The simulated gamma-ray burst hadn't just been a weapon or a communication method – it had been humanity shouting into the cosmic dark.
Now, he was erasing those words, one keystroke at a time.
The progress bar crawled forward: Copy. Delete. Copy. Delete.
He paused over a folder labeled Personal Notes: Camilla. Inside were pages of Tenza's handwritten equations, each one laced with messages to her daughter. "Finally understood what you meant about quantum superposition, sweetheart." "Missing you in every heartbeat." The words struck him like a blow, each one a fragment of her heart etched into the margins.
Behind him, Tenza shifted in her sleep, murmuring softly. Eretz turned, his gaze lingering on her scarred hands and the faint glow of her anima, still flickering even in her dreams. Her determination shone brighter than any gamma-ray burst they could create.
What am I doing? The thought whispered through his mind, unbidden but insistent. He clenched his fists. He's my brother. I have no choice.
But when he reached for her notes to burn them, his hand faltered. The pages were stained with faint streaks of blood, the truest manifestation of her relentless pursuit of understanding. The fire in the incinerator roared to life, and with trembling hands, he fed her work to the flames. Each page curled and blackened, carrying fragments of her soul into the void.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice breaking as the last page burned. "I'm so, so sorry." the words feeling inadequate against the magnitude of what he'd just stolen – not just research, but humanity's first stumbling words in the language of the stars.
As he turned to leave, the faint chime of guildmates relogging sent a jolt of panic through him. Notifications appeared in the corner of the interface, avatars materializing in the common room. The lab, once silent, began to stir with life.
Eretz ducked into the shadows, his heart pounding. He watched as Newtonian6's form shimmered into existence, the guild leader's sharp eyes scanning the room. "Strange," Newtonian6 muttered, his voice carrying. "I thought I logged out of a different terminal."
Eretz held his breath, every nerve in his body on edge. He clutched the stolen data, his mind racing. He had to escape, but the weight of his actions pressed down on him like gravity itself, bending the space around him.
As the lab filled with the chatter of relogged guildmates, Eretz slipped further into the shadows, his guilt trailing behind him like a specter. Tomorrow, Tenza would wake to find her work gone, her bridge to Camilla reduced to ash. And Eretz would carry the weight of that destruction, knowing that some things, once burned, could never be rebuilt.
The main door's security panel glowed like an accusation in the dim corridor. Eretz's hands moved with practiced precision, each connection he severed a betrayal of the sanctuary that had embraced him. Sweat dripped from his temple, tracing lines down his neck like silent tears. The stolen research in his pocket burned hotter than guilt—it was a star collapsing, its weight threatening to crush him.
The memory of his first day at the guild struck him like a blow. Newtonian6's hand on his shoulder, his warm voice proclaiming, "Science knows no borders." The lab had been alive with discovery, a place where even the impossible seemed to bow to their collective will. They had welcomed him not as an outsider, but as one of their own. And now, he was carving himself out of that constellation, a rogue star plunging into darkness.
His fingers hovered over the guild interface, trembling as he prepared to sever the connection. The spiral galaxy on his wrist—bioluminescent and alive—pulsed softly, a fading heartbeat of belonging. Soon, it would be gone, leaving only a pale scar, a celestial void where once there had been light.
He looked down the corridor, the echoes of shared laughter and whispered debates haunting the silence. Here was where Tenza had stayed up late, carving equations into the floor with bloodied hands. There was the station where Newtonian6 had revealed the first glimpse of the GRB simulation, his eyes alight with discovery. Every corner of the guild hall was alive with memories, a tapestry of moments that had stitched him into something greater than himself.
The security system chimed its first warning, a cold reminder that time was slipping through his fingers. His heart pounded, each beat a question he couldn't answer. Am I saving my brother? Or am I betraying him too?
"I'm sorry," he whispered to the empty halls, his voice cracking like dry earth. "My brother needs me."
Yet even as he said it, the words felt hollow. The truth gnawed at him: he needed the guild too. Here, he wasn't just his brother's shadow. He was someone who saw the universe not as a battlefield, but as an infinite playground of wonders. Here, he had been part of something eternal.
The chime sounded again, louder this time, demanding action. He pressed the command. The severance was instantaneous—a wound carved deep into his soul. The galaxy on his wrist flickered once, twice, then died, leaving only the faint outline of a scar.
The main door closed tightly, as he appeared into the cool night air, kicked from what was once a home. The guild loomed behind him, its silhouette framed by the artificial stars of the game's sky. He started to run, his feet pounding against the earth, the stolen fire in his pocket threatening to consume him. He didn't dare look back, but in the corner of his eye, he caught his reflection in a falling droplet of water. His face looked pale and hollow, a sinner cast out of paradise.
The thought struck him like a blade: I've stolen humanity's light to save my brother's life. But what if I've extinguished something greater in the process?
He paused at the edge of the valley, the lab's faint glow still visible in the distance. His brother's face swam before his eyes, overlaid with the determined gaze of Tenza. One sought to survive a war. The other sought to defy the cosmos. He gritted his teeth and turned away, running faster, the echoes of his betrayal chasing him into the night.
The moon's silvery glow spilled into the guild hall like an unwelcome intruder, casting long, ghostly shadows across the terminals. Newtonian6 walked slowly, his steps echoing in the quiet halls still warm with the echoes of camaraderie and discovery. The first sound to break the silence was a strangled gasp from a guildmate in the materials lab.
"It's gone," she whispered, her hands flying over the terminal's interface. "The ore analysis... the coherence studies... everything…"
Others gathered, drawn by the growing sense of unease. Their greetings faltered, dying on their lips as screen after screen revealed the same chilling emptiness. Calculations erased. Breakthroughs undone. Models that had taken weeks, months to perfect—gone as though they had never existed.
Newtonian6 reached his terminal with leaden steps, his chest tightening as he accessed the files. The quantum tunneling data: gone. The railgun specifications: erased. The gamma-ray burst simulation—their crowning achievement, the beacon they'd all rallied around—deleted without a trace.
A notification blinked at the corner of his screen: Guild Member Status Change. He opened it, his hands trembling.
Eretz has left the guild.
The words hit like a physical blow. Around him, the murmurs began, disbelief rippling through the gathered guildmates like a shockwave.
"But he was family," someone whispered, the words heavy with the weight of trust shattered. Voices blurred together, rising in a chorus of memories. "He taught me quantum superposition." "He stayed up all night debugging simulations." "He made us sharbat from the flowers in the valley. Said it reminded him of home."
Near the corner of the lab, Tenza still slept at the desk, her face serene despite the pages scattered around her like fallen leaves. No one moved to wake her yet. How could they? How do you tell someone that the bridge they had bled and burned themselves to build had been stolen, its pieces scattered into the void?
Newtonian6's mind raced, grappling with the enormity of the betrayal. Eretz wasn't just a colleague; he had been a part of their community, their family. His first presentation to the guild replayed in Newtonian6's mind—the nervous brilliance, the fire in his words as he spoke of particle physics and his brother's dreams. Now, that memory felt like a cruel mockery.
"We'll rebuild," Newtonian6 said finally, his voice steady despite the tremor in his chest. "Science isn't in the data. It's in the questions we ask, the dreams we share."
But as the words left his lips, his gaze fell on Tenza. She shifted in her sleep, murmuring softly, her fingers twitching as though still scribbling equations even in her dreams. His heart ached at the thought of waking her, of telling her what had happened, of asking her to chase the man who had not only stolen their work but had taken something far more precious: their belief that science could transcend borders, politics, and prejudice.
The moonlight illuminated the room, highlighting the empty screens like silent witnesses. Newtonian6 turned to the guildmate nearest to him, his voice hushed but urgent. "He hasn't escaped yet. The teleportation shrine is across the flower valley. If we move now, we can catch him."
The guildmate hesitated. "Who do we send?"
Newtonian6 glanced back at Tenza. The answer was clear, but his chest tightened at the thought. She was exhausted, both in body and spirit. To send her now, after everything she had poured into their work, felt cruel. But she was their only hope.
"She's the only one who can reach him in time," he said finally, the words heavy with reluctance. "But waking her means telling her the truth. About Eretz. About everything."
The flower valley stretched out beyond the guild hall, its blossoms swaying gently in the moonlight, oblivious to the betrayal that had taken root in their midst. Somewhere beyond it, Eretz was running, carrying not just stolen research but the shattered trust of those who had believed in him. Newtonian6 knew time was running out, but the hardest choice still lay ahead.
Newtonian6 stood over Tenza's sleeping form, his expression a portrait of anguish. The soft moonlight filtering through the grand windows caught the blood-stained equations on her fingers and the faint scarlet marks she had scratched into the desk in her relentless pursuit of understanding. The quiet hum of the lab's machines seemed heavier now, a mournful dirge for what had been lost.
"Tenza," he said softly, his hand trembling as it rested on her shoulder.
She stirred, her eyelids fluttering open. For a brief, precious moment, her face held the peace of sleep, unmarred by the weight of betrayal. But reality was swift and merciless.
"Our research is gone," Newtonian6 said, his voice deliberate and heavy. "All of it. The railgun specs, the molecular studies, the GRB simulations. Eretz… he took everything."
The words seemed to echo in the stillness, growing heavier with each repetition. Tenza's eyes widened as she turned to the terminal, her hands moving instinctively to files that no longer existed. Her trembling fingers hovered over the empty screen, tracing the ghosts of her equations.
"But…" Her voice faltered, and her throat tightened. "I was just beginning to…"
A shout pierced the corridor, shattering the fragile moment. "Newt! The main door – he's locked us out completely! The override's been corrupted. It'll take hours to—"
Newtonian6 straightened, his expression hardening. "We don't have hours," he said grimly. "He's taking our work to people who think Latin American minds don't deserve discoveries like this. Who believe breakthroughs belong only to their hallowed institutions."
The hum of the lab grew louder, filling the air with a charged tension. Tenza's hands curled into fists, her scarred fingers trembling with a mix of rage and despair. Around her, the guild gathered, their faces a reflection of shared anguish and desperate hope.
"You're the only one who can catch him," one guildmate said softly. "You're the only warrior among us."
Tenza's breath caught, her chest tightening. "I may be a warrior…" She looked at the faces surrounding her – scientists, dreamers, people who had welcomed her into their world and made her one of their own. "But I'm just… I'm still learning. I'm not…"
Newtonian6 stepped closer, his voice cutting through her doubt. "Godslayer sent you here for a reason. And more importantly, you understand what it means to fight for connection. To refuse the limitations others place on you."
The room fell silent. The faces around her were expectant, their eyes filled not with blind hope but with trust – trust in her as a mother, a warrior, and a seeker of understanding. It was a quiet, collective plea, spoken through their gazes and the stillness of the lab.
"He's our brother," someone murmured, their voice breaking. "Maybe you can remind him what that means."
Tenza rose slowly. Her hand brushed the desk where her equations had been, the weight of her unfinished work pressing against her heart. She wasn't ready. She wasn't a scientist or a savior. But she was a mother who had learned to fight for understanding, no matter the odds.
And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.
"Tell me," she said, her voice firming with each word, "what's the fastest way out of the guild that isn't the main door?"
The room came alive with purpose. Guild members moved with precision, pointing her toward the balcony and mapping out the terrain she would face. The hum of the machines grew softer, almost reverent, as if acknowledging her resolve.
Tenza stepped onto the balcony, the moonlight catching the scars on her hands and illuminating her face. The flower valley stretched before her, a breathtaking expanse bathed in silvery light. It was a sight of serene beauty, at odds with the storm raging within her.
Behind her, the guild's faces glowed with more than hope. They glowed with recognition – not of a perfect scientist, but of someone who embodied the essence of science: relentless curiosity, unyielding determination, and the courage to begin again, no matter how many times the universe said no.
She inhaled deeply, the cool night air filling her lungs. The path ahead was uncertain, fraught with doubt. But she would follow it, not just for the stolen research, but for understanding – of Eretz, of his betrayal, and of the brother who loomed like a shadow over his choices.
Without a word, she leaped into the flower valley below, her silhouette framed against the moonlight. It was not the leap of a scientist or a warrior, but of a mother who refused to let distance, betrayal, or even the universe itself stand between her and the truth.
Behind her, the guild watched in awe, their unspoken hopes carried with her into the night. Somewhere in the valley, Eretz ran, the stolen fire of their work burning in his possession. But Tenza was coming, a star burning brighter with every step.