The afternoon in New Kyoto is mild and bright. The ecological dome above the city filters out excessive light, making the sunlight soft and stable. The air is clean, the temperature constant, and the changing seasons are almost imperceptible. There is no noticeable noise on the streets. The transportation system operates automatically, and the flow of people is gentle and sparse.

  In 2064, most production is entirely handled by artificial intelligence. Energy, manufacturing, transportation, and healthcare—sectors that once required large amounts of manpower—now operate stably under the management of the system.

  The government provides each citizen with an "existence allowance," enough to maintain a standard of living equivalent to a monthly income of six thousand US dollars in the old era. No one has to work. Food, clothing, shelter, and transportation are no longer problems. But differences in quality of life still exist. What is truly expensive is no longer technology, but nature. Naturally grown food, untreated water, and authentic land environments have become the new luxury resources.

  On the outskirts of the city, numerous private ecological zones are leased or purchased long-term by the wealthy. There, authentic soil, natural rainfall, and ecological cycles unregulated by algorithms are preserved. A dinner from a real farm often costs far more than a high-end electronic device. People gradually realized that technology had solved the problem of survival, but not happiness.

  On a street corner, a row of public neural interaction pods stood quietly. Several young people lay inside, their faces bearing gentle yet empty smiles. They weren't in pain, but they weren't happy either. Silas walked past without stopping.

  The Central Observatory of New Capital. A dark building pierced the clouds. Standing quietly. It was the tallest building in the city, its outer material having extremely low reflectivity, making the entire building look like a space stripped of light. It was responsible for stabilizing the city-level neural network and quantum communication, one of New Capital's most core technological nodes.

  When Silas arrived at the entrance, Chloe was already waiting for him. Inside the building, there was no elevator in the traditional sense. The ground rose slowly, almost imperceptibly. The walls were made of dynamic materials, occasionally appearing translucent, revealing different structural layers of the city at different heights. The entire ascent was quiet and smooth, more like space moving than people.

  Two minutes later, they reached the top. The clouds were close at hand, the city compressed into a blur of light and shadow.

  A gentle breeze blew across the terrace. Chloe opened a simple interface, several sets of data floating in the air.

  “The last assassination attempt was conducted using quantum recognition to lock onto your bio-frequency,” she said.

  Silas looked at her.

  Chloe continued. Through the neural interface, she added a subtle perturbation to Silas's bio-signal, simultaneously generating several sets of simulated signals.

  “Now the system will detect multiple similar targets,” she said calmly. “The locking difficulty will increase significantly.”

  Silas nodded.

  “How long will it last?”

  “A few months.” A brief silence.

  Chloe looked at him:

  “Join me.” There was no command, no inducement, just a suggestion.

  Silas gazed at the distant city.

  “I don’t accept binding.”

  Chloe wasn’t surprised.

  “Then let’s try another way.” She closed the interface.

  “When I need you, you cooperate. The rest of the time, you’re free.”

  Silas nodded.

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  “Okay.” This felt more like cooperation than belonging.

  Shortly after leaving the obelisk, Silas’s old communication protocol was triggered. It was a rarely used channel. He answered. “I heard you died.” His father’s voice remained calm.

  Silas chuckled softly.

  “Technical death.” There was a pause on the other end of the line.

  “Your identity has been cancelled.”

  “It’s safer this way.” His father didn’t press further.

  “Don’t let it affect the family business.”

  “I won’t.” The call ended. No lingering emotion.

  A few days later, Silas arrived at the edge of the old city. Network coverage was weak here, leaving a large amount of offline space. He entered a small workshop, the air thick with the smell of wood. Eli was processing a piece of natural wood. In this era, most materials could be synthesized, but some still insisted on using real materials.

  Eli’s work wasn’t fixed. When large systems encountered complex decision-making conflicts requiring human judgment, people would contact him. He was unassuming and gentle, yet possessed exceptional judgment.

  “You don’t look like a dead man,” Eli said.

  Silas leaned against the doorway.

  “The system thinks I am.” Eli smiled.

  “That’s safe.” A brief silence. Silas spoke:

  "You said you'd take me somewhere."

  Eli nodded.

  "Now."

  They arrived at the bar.

  The bar was constructed entirely of natural wood and was slightly larger than a typical bar. The interior was quiet and warm. Simple yet effective shielding technology was incorporated into the building to prevent eavesdropping and scanning. Aside from that, it seemed almost entirely devoid of technology.

  Silas looked at Eli.

  "This is it?" Eli didn't answer. He simply observed the wooden structures, as if waiting for something.

  A moment later, a dark gray hovercar slowly pulled up in front. Its body was understated, yet it exuded a distinctly high-end feel. The doors opened automatically.

  Silas looked at Eli.

  Eli then spoke:

  "Someone wants to see you."

  "Who?" Eli paused.

  "It's related to the grand ceremony three years ago." After driving for about ten minutes, the vehicle stopped in front of a building approximately four hundred meters tall. The building's exterior was restrained and stable; this place was called—the Sky Tower. The top of the tower was equipped with a magnetic rail projection system for aerial transportation.

  Upon entering the upper area, they boarded a space capsule. The activation process was extremely smooth. A few dozen seconds later, acceleration noticeably increased, and the city rapidly shrank. They then entered near-Earth orbit.

  Silas began to realize that this trip wasn't a spur-of-the-moment decision. It seemed more like a pre-arranged path. Eli still hadn't explained.

  It gradually came into view. A massive structure, yet remarkably simple. A huge space station, shaped like a spinning silver top. The outer modules reflected soft light, making it look more like a research platform than a traditional space building.

  Upon entering the space station, the gravity approached Earth's standard. A man of about fifty years old was waiting for them, his demeanor calm and composed.

  "Welcome to the Norvis," he said.

  "I am Heinrich." Silas was slightly taken aback. This was the owner of the House of Proust. Public records indicated he was over a hundred years old, but his appearance remained that of someone around fifty. The reason was unknown. Heinrich didn't explain. He looked at Eli, a faint smile appearing on his face.

  "Thank you for bringing him along." Silas looked at Eli. Eli didn't respond, only nodded slightly.

  Heinrich turned to Silas:

  "Eight years ago, you restored my memories."

  "I've always wanted to thank you in person."

  They entered a room made of real wood, the air filled with the scent of pine. The space was quiet.

  Heinrich suddenly said:

  "Actually, this meeting was made possible through him."

  He looked at Eli.

  Silas frowned slightly.

  Heinrich continued:

  "Three years ago, at that grand ceremony, you brought him."

  Silas recalled that night—the glass dome, the music, the lights, and Eli's disappearance for a time.

  Heinrich's tone was calm:

  "That day,my daught Alea met him."

  The room fell silent. Eli still didn't explain, only leaning back slightly in his chair.

  Heinrich continued:

  "They talked for a long time. Later, she mentioned him. Many times." His tone was emotionless, but the information was enough. Silas realized—that meeting was no ordinary one.

  Heinrich looked at Silas:

  "When I learned your identity had been deleted, I didn't contact you directly."

  "I contacted him."

  "Because in some things, people are more reliable than systems." Eli chuckled slightly, not denying it.

  Heinrich stood up:

  "Come on. I was hoping to talk about this later. Now, let's go visit the Norvis."

  They entered the experimental area. Just as they reached the entrance, a staff member rushed over, visibly tense.

  "Sir—Miss Alea has disappeared."

  Heinrich frowned.

  "Where did she go?"

  The staff member shook his head.

  "Not left."

  "Disappeared."

  The surveillance footage was displayed. In the footage, Alea was operating the experimental equipment. The next second, her location suddenly vanished.

  No explosion.

  No energy anomalies.

  No system alarms.

  That space seemed to have been directly deleted.

  The on-site equipment detected no anomalies. All records were normal, but there were no results.

  Heinrich remained silent. Silas stood to the side. He showed no neurological fluctuations, no sensory abnormalities. This matter was completely unrelated to him. It was merely a technological phenomenon yet to be understood. Or—some unknown mechanism.