Elias Vandrom arrived at the "Second Island" (Stellaris).

  The atmosphere here was completely different from the chaos of "Kaeli" or the brutality of "Solis et Lunae." It was saturated with the smell of cold metal and high-frequency electricity. Everything moved with clockwork precision: robotic cranes, ceaseless assembly lines, and soldiers patrolling in silent formation.

  Elias walked in his black velvet suit, smiling like a tourist in a museum, heading toward an isolated building at the northern edge of the island.

  The building bore neither the "Arcadia" nor "Epsilon" logo. Instead, it had a single, hand-painted emblem done in chaotic strokes: a human skull with one green eye, its hair made of plants, and half its face mechanical.

  Elias pushed the door open and entered.

  "Hello?" he called out in his calm voice.

  No one answered. But he heard a muffled explosion, followed by an enthusiastic laugh.

  Elias navigated through a maze of sophisticated scrap: half-finished robotic arms, containers holding glowing, boiling fluids, and screens displaying nonsensical equations.

  In the middle of this chaos, he found the "Host."

  He was a seventeen-year-old boy, standing on a metal ladder, wearing a lab coat cut unevenly and filled with pockets bulging with strange tools. His messy blonde hair had a streak of bright blue (a remnant of a previous chemical explosion), and his green eyes were permanently dilated, staring eagerly at a strange device emitting sparks.

  "Abir Enigmon?" Elias said.

  The boy turned sharply, as if he had forgotten other humans existed in the world. His smile was disturbingly asymmetrical; the right side of his mouth grinned wider than the left.

  "A visitor!" Abir jumped from the ladder, landing with surprising grace. "Are you a volunteer? No, you look too old to be a volunteer... Are you here to donate?"

  Abir approached Elias, shamelessly examining the fabric of his suit.

  "Being from Arcadia, you should at least get used to memorizing the names of scientists. I am Elias," the man said with a diplomatic smile, gently pushing Abir's hand away. "I came regarding... an offer."

  "An offer?" Abir's eyes sparkled. "Does it involve explosions? Or turning gravity into liquid? Or perhaps... have you ever tried planting consciousness into a toaster?"

  "Regarding your project," Elias said, looking around the mad laboratory. "You said it was rejected. I am here to accept it and support you."

  Abir paused, tilting his head like a curious bird. "Project?"

  "Apocalypse Craw," Elias smiled.

  Abir's grin widened until it showed his teeth.

  "Fun!" he clapped his hands, and colorful specks of dust flew from his shirt. "Why didn't you say so from the beginning? Come in, come in! I was just working on something, but who cares now... Apocalypse Craw, then. I didn't expect to be working on it this soon."

  Elias followed the mad inventor deeper into the lab. His phone rang. He took it out and checked the messages.

  "Perhaps later," Elias said. "It seems a guest has entered my lab and considers it home..." He put the phone back.

  "A guest for you?" Abir asked, pulling a large jar containing strange insects.

  "Someone disguised as one of my scientists caused a commotion in the lab," Elias replied, inspecting some tools on a nearby table.

  "Doesn't sound too bad based on your reaction," Abir said, placing the jar on the table and searching around for something.

  "It's just one of my labs. The commotion was contained. Chaos is fun because it makes life less boring," Elias replied, lifting a gun. It wasn't an ordinary gun; it was something strange resembling a small skull, white as ivory, with blue veins pulsing beneath the surface like real blood vessels. "Also, since The Incident, I can tell you: nothing is predictable here. And the predictable is exactly what everyone in the city avoids, right?"

  "Who knows? I didn't become the number one inventor by asking questions like that. I invent purely for fun!" Abir answered, placing a blueprint showing Apocalypse Craw.

  Elias smiled, pointing at the gun. "I'll keep this."

  "That was a special order from someone, but it's yours, partner," Abir replied, giving a thumbs up.

  Elias looked at the blueprint. "How long do you need to get it ready?"

  "From preparing the Craw to selecting the Espers and waiting for some improvements... some time," Abir shrugged nonchalantly, returning to his research.

  Elias checked the gun's ammo but found no chamber for bullets.

  "It doesn't work with bullets." Abir stood up after placing a black box on the table, heading to a corner and dragging out a human muscle anatomy dummy. "Try it as a target. I haven't tested it yet... just pull the trigger."

  Stolen novel; please report.

  Elias aimed the gun and did as told. As he began to squeeze the trigger, a faint whisper emerged from the skull's nostrils, like breathing. Then it grew, turning into a sound like a storm trapped in a small box. The skull's jaw opened slowly with a quiet bone-cracking sound. Then, two red lines glowed from the skull's eyes, painting crosshairs on the target's chest.

  When he fully pulled the trigger...

  There was no explosion, no flame, no smell of gunpowder. Just a sharp whistle like a night bird's cry, and a transparent vortex of air shot from the skull's mouth, wrapped in cold white mist.

  Elias felt a cold breeze touch his face. He saw the dummy slam against the wall as if pushed by an invisible force, then slide slowly to the ground. On its chest, a small patch of frost was forming on the fabric. The skull's jaw closed with a faint click. The blue veins dimmed.

  "You said it was a special order. Who exactly ordered it?" Elias asked, smiling as he looked at the gun.

  "Didn't care. They sent a request, and I liked the idea, so I built a prototype based on my design," Abir replied, pointing to models resembling the skull gun. "Delivery date is the day after tomorrow... probably a university student."

  Elias didn't care who ordered it. He simply placed the gun inside his jacket pocket.

  At the same time.

  The train arriving from "Energy Island" stopped at the Main Station of the "Central Island."

  The doors opened, and a stream of passengers rushed out; exhausted employees, maintenance workers, and some students returning from a 'field trip.' The noise of the city, the sounds of commercials, and the smell of fast food filled the air instantly, erasing the scent of ozone and fear that clung to the clothes of those coming from the Restricted Islands.

  There was no smoke, no screaming, no smell of burning. Only bright advertisements for the latest smartphones and the aroma of expensive coffee.

  The Assistant, pressing his back against the metal wall of the carriage, watched the "transformation" happen.

  A man in a luxurious suit, who minutes ago was screaming for someone's head to be crushed, quietly removed his silver mask, placed it in his leather bag, then took out his phone to speak in a formal voice: "Yes, honey... the meeting ran a little late. I'll be home for dinner."

  A woman who had stained her dress with juice from excitement put on a long coat covering everything, transforming in a second from a "bloody gambler" into a dignified "society lady."

  They dispersed into the station. Some headed to the elevators leading to luxury residential towers, others boarded private cars waiting for them, and some simply walked.

  They melted into the city as if nothing had happened.

  "Monsters..." the Assistant whispered, finally stepping out of the train, his legs trembling. "Everyone here is a monster... in suits and masks."

  The Assistant walked through the crowds, feeling alien, contaminated, as if carrying the "smell" of the Fourth Island with him.

  He didn't head home. He couldn't imagine sitting in a quiet room right now. Silence would make him hear the screams of the "Winged Boy" again.

  "I need something..." he muttered, rubbing his pale face. "Something to stop the thinking... a painkiller... a sedative... anything to shut the brain off."

  He looked around. The bright city lights hurt his eyes.

  He saw a Blue Cat sign glowing at the end of the street. The sign pointed toward a large building. It wasn't a commercial center, but a private hospital.

  (The Blue Cat Hospital).

  He remembered the name. The hospital that asks no questions, as long as you pay.

  "Yes... they'll give me something strong without records..."

  The Assistant began walking toward the blue light, dragging his feet wearily, fleeing from waking nightmares to the mercy of chemical sleep.

  Meanwhile, at the entrance of the next train.

  Hengen stepped out coldly, hands in his coat pockets, walking with steady steps through the crowd.

  Behind him, Valens walked with difficulty, head low, pulling the collar of his stolen coat around his face to hide his pale features and glowing veins. He looked like an addict seeking a fix, causing passersby to instinctively avoid him, giving him space without realizing they were avoiding a biological monster.

  "Try to look natural," Hengen whispered without turning. "You're attracting attention by trying to hide yourself."

  "The pain..." Valens whispered, his voice coming out as a wet rattle. "The crystal... needs..."

  "We are close," Hengen said.

  Hengen stopped suddenly at the station exit.

  His mismatched eyes caught a familiar face in the crowd.

  It was the "Assistant" (the former scientist).

  He was walking fast, clutching his torn leather bag, his eyes wild and looking at no one. His clothes were messy, his hair disheveled, and he was muttering unintelligible words.

  The Assistant didn't head toward the residential train tunnel, nor toward the security offices to report.

  Instead, he veered left, toward the back streets leading to a specific area of the Central Island. The area everyone (at least in Nyctopolis) knew what it contained.

  Hengen smiled a small, mocking smile.

  "Look there," Hengen nodded toward the retreating Assistant. "Even small scientists know where to spend their money..."

  Valens lifted his tired eyes. "Where... is he going?"

  "To the same destination as you," Hengen replied, starting to walk, following the Assistant's path from a safe distance. "To one of the places that doesn't ask 'Who are you?' or 'What did you do?'... but only asks 'How much will you pay?'."

  Hengen looked at a distant sign glowing with faint blue neon light at the end of the street.

  The Blue Cat Hospital.

  "Do they... have crystals?" Valens asked eagerly.

  "Crystals?... I expect anything from that doctor, but it will be different from what you possess," Hengen said, walking down the path. "They have a doctor who doesn't care where you came from... he'll allow you that free trial."

  The two walked toward the Blue Cat Hospital, the place where money buys your health and privacy.

  While the Blue Cat was a place where those who pay go, the General Public Hospital was overflowing with patients like a river that never stops flowing toward the sea.

  Among the patient rooms, there was a boy covered in bandages and a cast. His face couldn't even be clearly distinguished because of the triangular sling he wore... but his black hair with a red streak wasn't covered.

  "When will he wake up again?" a medical assistant asked, lifting the breathing tube, ready to sedate him.

  "No need to sedate him for the third time. If he wakes up and wants to leave, throw him out," the doctor replied, sighing in annoyance.

  "You know that's a forbidden term here," the assistant looked around. "Better say something like 'assist him in leaving after signing' or something like that."

  "Your shift starts at this hour. I've been here since morning," the doctor replied sharply.

  "Is that because you've been absent lately without an excuse?" The assistant looked at the boy with the red streak who began moving his hand.

  "It doesn't matter why. Now prepare that paper and make him sign it, then escort him out and bring the next patient." The doctor sat down, putting his hand on his head. "A doctor preparing a fake sick leave for himself... why couldn't it be easier?"

  "Isn't it because the hospital chief knows these tricks?" the assistant replied, taking a paper from the drawer.

  "You're right." The doctor sighed, looking at the sitting boy.

  "You woke up four hours after the last sedation. Your injury is fine, you can talk after a while, but for now just shut up and go to your bed as you wanted."

  "..."

  "Just raise your thumb or something like that if you understand."

  The boy spat on the floor and turned his thumb down.

  "Let me guess, you heard me when I said 'throw him out'."

  The boy raised his thumb.

  "I'll extend your sick leave. Let's consider it never happened."

  The boy raised both thumbs.

  (Easy), the doctor thought, leaning back in his chair. "You can sign and leave."

  The boy with the red streak grabbed the pen and began signing the paper the assistant nurse presented.

  After signing the liability release form, the boy walked out of the automatic glass door of the hospital, and the afternoon heat hit his face.

  He stepped onto the crowded sidewalk. Bandages covered his entire neck and hid the lower half of his face, making him look like the victim of a horrific accident.

  He stopped for a moment.

  He took a deep breath... and the polluted air caused sharp pain in his torn throat, but he didn't cough. He swallowed the pain and put his hands in his pants pockets.

  He looked at the night sky, caring less about the stars than the massive mass floating in it—the Central Island.

  He touched his throat while his eyes burned.

  (The Nova Event, then...) the boy said to himself, starting to walk toward his private student dorm.

  Meanwhile.

  On the island the boy was looking at.

  The waiting room at The Blue Cat Hospital was empty and quiet, except for the sound of the classic clock hanging on the wall.

  Behind the reception desk, the "Scarred Doctor" leaned back in his chair with boredom, flipping through the pages of an old paper report, his light blue eyes half-closed from sleepiness.

  He yawned and stretched his arms lazily.

  "Patients in their rooms and a living 'corpse'. I can leave soon while handing the reception to someone else... nurse robots." He muttered, throwing the report on the desk. "I'll have to order more of them just in case."

  The door bell rang.

  The doctor raised his head slowly.

  The door opened, and a strange group entered.

  In the front, a boy with grey-white hair and a long coat (Hengen), walking with confidence. Behind him, a former scientist trembling and looking as if he had seen a ghost (The Assistant). And at the end... a person covering his face, emitting sickly blue lights from his chest, with the smell of death wafting from him (Valens).

  The doctor looked at the two patients. "Two new ones and..." he looked at Hengen. "Rank Four. Usual visit?"

  Hengen nodded and headed toward the elevator, leaving the two behind.

  The doctor looked at the two patients.

  "My day ends with more sickness... as usual," the doctor said, opening the new patient log. "Welcome to the Blue Cat. First round is free, but later, payment is upfront."

  End of Arc One: An Ordinary Day in the City.