Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

They kept emerging from the starry sky.

AR-17032 was feeling exhausted. Her body ached inside the suit, her muscles were stiff and sore from hours of non-stop combat. Sweat dripped down her forehead, mixing with the smell of burnt flesh and metal around her. Every movement was demanding a self-conscious commitment.

But she couldn't stop now.

The large insects of the Swarm kept coming like a thunderstorm, a giant cloud of black shells and multifaceted eyes that reflected the light of the explosions in a whirlwind of frenzied colors. Like a violent wave, they charged again against the lines of the Iron Cavalry, swallowing up soldiers and destroying their ranks.

In the midst of the chaos, AR-17032 didn't even have time to breathe. Her suit's interface flickered for a second as she began to receive signals from her comrades. Her heart ached for every time she heard the beeping sound indicating that someone had fallen.

That damn beeping hadn't stopped since that infernal battle began.

The roar of gunfire cut through the air. The Iron Cavalry continued to advance, each time decreasing in number.

The communication channels erupted with trembling voices.

“We need backup!”

“Enemy raid on the city! There’s too many of them!”

“Squad 7 has lost signal!”

“Forward! Forward!”

“I repeat: We need backup right no-...”

“Squad 4 report: We found the Swarm Mother!”

“We no longer have contact with the Commander!”

The words echoed through her helmet as more and more soldiers took flight like flickering flames, only to be destroyed by the Swarm.

A shadow floated over her. But before she could react, a massive creature lunged towards her, its laminated limbs ready to tear her apart. Her reaction was slow, which gave other insects a chance to attack her as they had the other soldiers.

Could this be the end? Would she be torn apart like her companions?

Just as the creature's claws came down, a figure crashed into her, firing a shot into her exposed flesh, helping her along with the others who were also attacking her.

The soldier turned to her, his armor glistening with the blood of the insects and battle damage.

AR-17032 exhaled shakily, nodding.

“Roger that!”

The soldier pressed a button on his suit, communicating with the other remaining units. 

“Everyone who can hear, regroup!” The target is close! Don't split up or you could end up dead!”

The communicators buzzed as confirmations came through. AR- 17032 ran across the battlefield alongside the soldier, both joining a newly formed squad of just over 12 soldiers, their mech suits damaged but still functional. They fought with renewed vigor, their firepower now concentrated. Even with losses, AR-17032 realized that the Swarm was beginning to falter.

“Are they retreating?” A soldier asked, in disbelief.

“No.” Corrected the soldier next to her, looking grim. “They're clearing the way.”

And then the darkness intensified. A horrifying screech filled the air, reverberating in the bones of those who heard it.

The Swarm Mother appeared - a monstrous, grotesque thing, its chitinous body glistening in the lights of the explosions, its multiple limbs twitching in preparation. Its size made AR-17032 hesitate - for a moment she thought it was a mountain, an immovable force hovering over them. But then it moved, and the reality of its presence hit her like a wave.

The squad froze. No one moved. No one breathed.

The shrill screech of the Swarm Mother broke the paralysis. It wasn't just loud - it was totally overwhelming, a piercing cacophony that echoed inside the helmets and made AR-17032's skull ache.

Panic ran through the squad as the battle was suddenly reversed.

Soldiers who had just managed to fight again began to fall one by one, their screams echoing before they were interrupted.

The once coordinated formation crumbled under the onslaught.

During the battle, AR-17032 was able to hear the soldier from earlier say something over the communicator.

“Whoever is still alive, cover me. I'm going to the Swarm Mother.”

Before AR-17032 could argue, the soldier handed her a remote control.

“Press the button when I give the signal.” And with that, he launched himself forward. Advancing through the chaos as AR-17032 and the remains of the squad covered him.

She shot down the creatures in his path and her own, her every move was precise, but her mind was reeling at the thought of what would happen.

She watched as he reached the Swarm Mother, landing on her huge carapace.

Then he was impaled.

In his last act, the soldier ripped the face off his mech suit and threw it at the creature. His voice crackled through her comms one last time.

“For the queen!”

A tear escaped from AR-17032's eyes. She clutched the control tightly despite the chaos around her.

“For the queen...” She whispered.

And her finger pressed the button.

A deafening explosion engulfed the huge creature, a blinding light consumed everything and AR-17032 felt herself being thrown backwards, her suit falling apart as the explosion consumed her.

While unconscious, she remembered one night in particular.

She and some soldiers had secretly invited one of the Cybertronians - who as allies had sent some of their own to help in the difficult battles on Divastea. - to watch the stars with them in secret.

AR-17032 recalls that she and the other soldiers had bombarded the gray mech with questions as they admired the star-filled sky and the visible planets.

“A gladiator at Kaon” was what he had said he was, without explaining much.

A life reduced to fighting turned out to be one of the few subjects they had in common with each other. It didn’t take her that long to get close to the mech; if anyone saw them together, they might have thought they were close friends.

After a few minutes of conversation, the mech had been persuaded by the soldiers to teach them some Kaon fighting moves.

That night was like a dream for AR-17032, one she didn't want to wake up from, but that hadn't lasted long either.

One of the soldiers who was still wearing the mech suit told them that they would have to provide backup in a battle far from where they currently were.

She then offered to take the gray mech - no, D-16, back to the base, after all small battles should only be dealt with by the Iron Cavalry. 

But a promise had been made before she set off through the skies in her mech suit.

The promise that they would see each other again soon and repeat that night.

Except that was the last time she saw D-16 and her friends.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Her eyes were heavy when she woke up. Her vision was blurred and her armor was deactivated.

Slowly and painfully, she stood up, the remaining fabric of her “uniform” now hanging in tattered strips around her body.

She looked around for movement. Looking for any sign of life.

But there was none.

Bodies covered the scene. No matter where she looked, AR-17032 could only see the corpses of those who had once been her siblings. The smell of blood and burnt flesh now filled her nose and made her eyes water.

Her breathing became shaky.

She took a step forward, her body feeling heavy as she walked, AR-17032 felt her feet stepping in puddles of blood that were beginning to form, remnants of the swarm and sometimes tripping over some of the bodies. There had to be someone. Someone else had to have survived besides her...

That's when she heard it.

There were steps. Slow, dragging under the weight of her injuries and exhaustion.

Her heart leapt and she turned to see a figure barely able to stand.

The boy was holding what was left of his right arm, blood flowing from his wounds like a river, staining the fabric of his uniform.

He muttered something.

“...Born for combat. Such is the honor of the Iron Cavalry of Divastea, in the name of Her Majesty.” His voice was raspy as he repeated the teaching that had been ingrained in their very beings since birth.

Before she could reach him, his body gave in to his injuries, falling to the ground and joining the others as he breathed his last.

AR-17032 was frozen in place as she felt something warm slide down her cheeks.

It was tears.

She touched her face in surprise. She couldn't remember the last time she had cried, even when her companions had fallen in past battles. But now, surrounded by the silence of the dead, she cried.

“Why?” Her voice was choked as she looked around, as if waiting for an answer.

What was she supposed to do now that Divastea no longer existed?

The decades-long war was finally over, but there was nothing left on the planet.

Could she really consider that they had won? She honestly couldn't say.

She couldn't stay there any longer. This planet was nothing more than a graveyard now. There had to be something - somewhere - she could go.

Driven by her instincts, she wandered in search of one of the destroyed bases, looking for anything that might give her a direction. Supplies, tools, a ship - something to help her get away.

Hours had passed since she had arrived at the base and she began rummaging through the wreckage while trying to ignore the smaller bodies that were lying there, until her gaze caught sight of an almost destroyed foreign datapad half-hidden under the wreckage near the abandoned site where she had first met him.

D-16...

She wiped the dirt off the datapad, her hands shaking as she tried to turn it on. The screen flickered faintly, a jagged message appeared before her eyes.

“AR-17032, if you can one day leave this place, I beg you to come to Cybertron. I don't know why your leaders are sending us back, but something about it seems off to me. You deserve much more than this endless cycle of war. If you manage to survive (and I know you will), come and find me in Kaon. I'll be waiting for you”

She read it once. Twice. A spark of hope began to ignite in her chest.

Cybertron.

That was it. That's where she needed to go.

Perhaps she should trust D-16 to wait for her, even though years had passed since they had met.

She took a deep breath as she wrapped her arms around the datapad. Now, all she had to do was find a ship that still worked.

She moved through the wreckage with purpose, examining the remains of the base for anything that might still work.

Most of the ships were nothing more than twisted metal shells, with their exteriors charred and their interiors hollowed out by time.

AR-17032 was careful not to step on the scattered shards of glass and broken metal plates when she entered what used to be a hangar. The silence was unnerving - this place had been abandoned since the Iron Cavalry was created.

One by one, she checked the ships, forcing hatches open and climbing into cockpits, only to find dead controls, no fuel tanks or systems that were too damaged to be repaired. Minutes then became hours, frustration tormenting her as each attempt led to another dead end.

Then, hidden in the far corner of the hangar, she found it.

The ship was small compared to the others, as well as being relatively new in comparison.

AR-17032 had no idea what this ship was being created for, but even if she did, it wouldn't make any difference now.

This ship was her last hope.

When she entered the ship and tried to activate the systems, the control panel came to life.

It worked.

Relief grew inside her, but was quickly followed by hesitation. She had no idea how to fly a ship.

Sitting in the pilot's seat, her hands hovered uncertainly over the controls, examining the untouched interface in search of something familiar.

Cybertron. She needed to set a course for Cybertron.

Her fingers moved along the panel. The navigation system was barely working, showing half-corrupted stellar maps and coordinates that she was unable to recognize. After several failed attempts, she finally managed to pin down what she hoped was the right path.

The ship rumbled as the engines came to life. The hangar doors were destroyed enough for her to get out. With a deep breath, she braced herself and pushed the thrusters forward.

As the ship took off, she exhaled, gripping the armrests as Divastea's familiar gravity disappeared. Realizing that the ship could navigate on its own, AR-17032 turned away from the controls, heading quickly to some window at the back of the ship, watching her home and the remains of her siblings drift further and further away and making it increasingly clear to her that Divastea - that was once beautiful and prosperous, was now just a large, endless graveyard, where no life would ever emerge again.

AR-17032 didn't notice the ERROR message flashing on the monitor.

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

The city lights were shining through the streets when Haoyu was finally able to step outside the photography studio. London's nocturnal climate was chilly, carrying with it the faint scent of the rain that had occurred earlier in the day and which mingled with the smell of the city. The young blond exhaled deeply, exhaustion settling into his limbs after so many hours posing for photos. His agent had warned him that the session would take longer than expected, but he hadn't expected it to last so late into the night.

He adjusted the strap of his suitcase on his shoulder and started walking. The streets, which were usually very busy, were strangely deserted at this hour. Occasionally a car would pass by, startling Haoyu, but apart from that, London seemed asleep.

Until the ground shook beneath his feet.

Haoyu stopped in his tracks. He thought there must be some work going on - some overnight project - but something about these tremors didn't seem natural.

A deep unease settled in his chest, and he quickened his pace. When he reached a familiar bridge, a light pierced the night.

Haoyu turned sharply, and with his eyes turned to the sky, the young man saw it - there was something crossing the night sky.

A bright, speeding object, like a shooting star, but bigger. Much bigger. And it wasn't moving in a straight line - it was falling.

“What the fuck?”

Before he could finish his comment, the ground shook. Whatever it was, it had just fallen somewhere.

His instinct told him to just keep going. His apartment wasn't far away, and there was something about the whole situation that made him feel vulnerable. Haoyu started to run, his sneakers almost sliding on the sidewalk as he ran towards the River Thames.

And then he spotted something.

There was a body floating in the river.

At first he thought it might be a cloth or clothes that someone had thrown into the river. But when he looked closely, his breath got caught in his throat.

It really was a person.

Haoyu's heart pounded. Without even thinking, he ran towards the riverbank, almost slipping when he reached the edge. The figure was motionless, the shape of the person partially illuminated by the streetlights that reflected off the surface of the water.

“Shit.” He muttered, scanning the area. There was no one else around. No passers-by, not even an emergency team. Just him and the body in the river.

He could feel his heart beating in his own ears as he dropped his suitcase and his fingers struggled to untie his sneakers.

Haoyu had no time to think - whoever it was, they didn't seem to be moving. And if he didn't act now, the person might never have the chance to move again.

The water was very cold.

Haoyu gritted his teeth as the cold enveloped him and his clothes weighed him down as he struggled against the slow current. The figure was drifting further and further away, its body limp with its head barely above the surface.

“Oh no, no, no, you're not going to die on me.” muttered Haoyu mentally, pushing forward with strong strokes. “I didn’t just ruin my perfectly good jacket for you to pull some tragic drowning bullshit.”

When he finally reached them, Haoyu grabbed their arm and immediately realized two things: one, they were alive - fortunately - but they were much taller than him. And heavier. And currently a dead weight.

“Come on.” He hissed, trying to lift the person. “Why do I always get myself into these situations?”

With a grunt, he managed to support the person on his back, slipping an arm under the stranger's shoulders as he swam towards the riverbank. His limbs ached from the cold and the effort he was making, but he refused to stop. When he reached dry land, he was panting as he dragged the unconscious stranger onto the sidewalk.

Haoyu fell backwards for a moment, catching his breath.

“I swear, if you wake up and you turn out to be a government experiment or an alien, I'm going to be really pissed off.”

With that, Haoyu stood up to get a good look at the person he had just pulled out of the River Thames. It was a woman. A tall woman. In fact, she looked taller than him, now that he was seeing her up close. Her long honey-blonde hair clung to her face and shoulders, she was dressed in clothes that didn't look like anything he'd ever seen before, they were foreign, but not in the usual sense. They weren't modern. They weren't from around here.

Haoyu sighed, rubbing his hand over his face.

“Of course. Because a regular old drowning victim would’ve been too easy.”

His gaze roamed the empty streets. No flashing lights. There were still no police, no doctors. London was always full of people who liked to stick their noses into the drama, but, of course, when something really dramatic happened, there was no one.

There was just him.

And the mysterious woman.

“Well, I could leave you here, which - let's be honest - isn't going to happen. I could try calling an ambulance, but I doubt they'll respond quickly because of the time of day. Or-” He paused, looking at her unconscious form. “I can carry you to my apartment like a totally sane and responsible person.”

Haoyu looked down at his drenched and shivering self.

Yeah. Great. What a fantastic life choice that was.

“Well done, miss mysterious.” He mumbled, moving to hold her better in his arms.

“I really hope you don't wake up and punch me in the face.”

And with that, he began the slow, miserable walk home, cradling in his arms the stranger who had appeared from literally nowhere.

It was definitely suspicious. Carrying an unconscious woman into your apartment wasn't exactly a good sight. Haoyu stopped and looked down when he heard the sound of something falling to the ground.

A small round metal object had fallen out of the woman's pocket, reflecting the dim light of a street lamp.

Haoyu crouched down with some difficulty and picked up the object. It was cold against his fingertips, its smooth surface marked with intricate engravings that he couldn't figure out what they were. Definitely not something you'd find in a London souvenir store.

He frowned, turning the object over in his hand before looking at the woman in his arms. What the hell had he gotten himself into?

Shaking his head, he stuffed the object into his bag and continued walking, ignoring the feeling that was aching in his gut and telling him that this night was only going to get weirder.

When he finally reached his apartment, his arms seemed to scream in protest. He opened the door with his foot after unlocking it and entered, carefully placing the woman on his small sofa.

“Home sweet home” he muttered as he stretched his aching limbs. Haoyu went to his closet to get an extra towel and laid it over the woman, watching for any sign that she had woken up. But there was only the slow, steady rise and fall of her chest.

Haoyu grabbed a towel for himself and headed for the bathroom, stripping off his wet clothes as he was going.

“All right. It's time for me not to freeze to death.”

Stepping into the hot shower brought immediate relief to his body, with the warmth penetrating his skin. The young man pressed his forehead against the tile, letting the steam curl around him as his mind began to think about the latest events.

The weird tremors. The thing that fell from the sky. The woman in the river.

And that strange object she was carrying. Haoyu sighed again.

“Okay, either I've just saved a poor foreign tourist who was caught up in a freak accident... or I've just pulled an alien out of the Thames.”

He snorted at the thought as he shook his head. But deep down, he knew that something about this situation wasn't normal. And given his life experience, “abnormal” usually meant bad news.

Still, he would deal with it in the morning. For now, he just wanted to warm up and maybe - just maybe - pretend that this was just another odd night in London.

Chapter Text

AR-17032 woke up with her head pounding and disoriented as she regained consciousness. She felt like she was lying on something soft, her fingers twitching against the fabric - not metal, not the metal berth she was used to. - but against something softer.

She tried to remember what happened, her last clear memory was of the ship falling out of control, the alarms going off in her ears - and then nothing. She must have hit her head on impact.

Her eyes opened slowly, adjusting with difficulty to the lack of light in the room. The ceiling above wasn't metallic, it wasn't adorned with the energetic lines and geometric structure she had expected to see. Instead, it was plain, white, with no sign of the advanced Cybertron technology she had read about on the ship or heard about from D-16. 

A sudden unease took hold of her chest.

With a little effort, she sat up, feeling her muscles protest. Her head was pounding slightly. AR-17032 looked around, analyzing every detail of the place. The space seemed a little small compared to her, full of different pieces of furniture - wooden shelves, a table with papers scattered around, shelves with objects with no apparent function. The architecture was too irregular to be Cybertronian. Nothing there fitted in with the descriptions she had read about Cybertron.

His gaze settled on a large window. Beyond the glass was a city unknown to her, with buildings that seemed disconnected from each other, lights flickering in the distance and a sky obscured by clouds, she could see a sun rising among them, starting to illuminate the place. 

It definitely wasn't Cybertron.

A question began to rise in her mind. Where was she?

As she moved through the strange place, she noticed a closed door.

Her instincts screamed at her to stay alert. Whoever had brought her here might not be an enemy, but she couldn't afford to trust blindly, especially after a war. She clenched her fists, took a deep breath and opened the door.

Inside it was dark, there was a figure sleeping in a bed, curled up under a blanket. The soft rise and fall of his breathing was the only sound in the room. AR-17032's breath caught in her throat when she saw him there. She approached him slowly and silently, a single flame of hope that the stranger would look like a mech, but the moment she saw his face, a cold dread ran through her veins.

He wasn't like D-16. He wasn't even Cybertronian.

He looked like a Divastean civilian. 

Similar to her.

Her stomach churned with horror. Maybe that meant she wasn't really on Cybertron. She hadn't even escaped from Divastea. She was still trapped on that doomed planet and had only dreamt that she had left. Maybe she was even dead and this was just a limbo she was stuck in.

The hard work, the hours devoted to learning the Cybertronian language, the exhaustive journey... it had all been pointless. She hadn't reached her destination. On the contrary, she had been thrown into an even more foreign place, a planet she didn't even recognize.

 Her chest tightened as her breathing became irregular. Her hands trembled as she took a step back, accidentally bumping into a shelf she hadn't noticed. A small framed photograph toppled forward and fell to the floor with a sharp crack.

Haoyu's eyes snapped open and, for a second, he took a moment to notice the unknown figure standing in his room, with a tense posture and an expression of anguish. 

His groggy brain took a second to catch up with reality as he stared into the eyes that glowed in the darkness of the room.

“Oh, you've got to be kidding me,” he muttered, rubbing his face before looking at her again. “Why are you standing in my room in the middle of the dark?”

AR-17032 couldn't understand a word that being was saying. His tone didn't sound hostile, but his casual attitude did nothing to ease her panic.

“Onde eu estou?” She demanded in a high-pitched voice as she took a step forward. “Quem é você? O quê é você?”

Haoyu blinked. “Okay, I don't know what you're talking about. We're just going to sit here confused together, aren't we?”

She gritted her teeth, realizing that communication would be difficult. Frustrated, she patted her uniform, looking for her key - the small metal object in her pocket. It was no longer there.

Her expression darkened. She turned to Haoyu, pointing at the pocket and then at him, hoping he would understand.

“Oh great, now we're playing charades? Wait for me to wake up first.” Haoyu sighed, running a hand through his blond hair. “Look, I don't know what you're looking for, but-  wait...." He remembered the strange object that had fallen out of her pocket when he took her home. The one he'd stashed in his bag without giving much thought.

His cell phone alarm went off, vibrating insistently on the bedside table. 

Haoyu grunted as he deactivated the alarm, sitting down on the edge of the bed and finally looking directly at the stranger.

Haoyu felt a shiver run down his spine, his heartbeat speeding up out of pure instinct. He had already noticed that the woman's eyes were different, but seeing them like this, in the dark, was... uncomfortable. Her eyes were green, but they didn't look natural, they seemed to have a yellowish glow, which made her look a little threatening.

Haoyu sniffled before speaking.

“Well, I have to go to work.” He stood up, still a little hesitant. “Go on, get out.”

She obviously didn't understand. But when he started to move towards her, beckoning her to leave, she stepped back just enough to get through the bedroom door.

Haoyu seized the moment and quickly closed the door behind her.

Leaning against the wood, he let out a long sigh.

“That was scary,” he muttered to himself.

But now that he was alone, he needed to think. He would rather get dressed quickly, changing his crumpled clothes for something more presentable, while he reflected on the situation he found himself in.

He wouldn't deny it - he was a bit scared.

Haoyu arched an eyebrow as he opened the closet to look for a set of clothes.

He was curious too.

What the hell was that woman? Where had she come from? How had she ended up here? And, above all, how was he going to communicate with her?

“Signs? Drawings?” he muttered, frowning as he changed. ”Mime?” With a final sigh, he smoothed his hair and opened the door.

And almost jumped back.

She was still there.

In exactly the same position as before, standing in front of the door as if she had never moved.

Haoyu held back a swear word. “You're kidding me...”

Haoyu pushed the woman slightly, walking past her as he went to brush his teeth.

When he returned to the living room, she was still there, running her hands over the petals of a flower he had placed on a bench, barely even paying attention to him.

Haoyu picked up his bag and went to the door, coughing to get the woman's attention.

“You're not supposed to leave, understand? Stay!”

AR-17032 frowned when she saw his exaggerated gestures. Did he think she was some kind of pet?

Seeing her expression of disdain, Haoyu sighed dramatically. “Yes, I know. I wouldn't listen either. Just don't make my life difficult, okay? When I get back, we'll try talking.”

Without waiting for an answer, he opened the door and left, locking it. 

As he made his way through the streets, he passed the part of the River Thames from which he had pulled the woman.

The sight that greeted him made his stomach drop.

Police cars. Several. Authorities were questioning some people. The whole area was full of officers and, judging by their serious expressions, it was important.

Haoyu's fingers tightened around the strap of his bag as he listened to snippets of conversations between the officers.

“There are still no confirmed witnesses...”

“Something fell from the sky...”

“-We should secure the perimeter in case it happens again.”

His heart began to pound. As he walked past, he could see something that some officers were stowing inside a van, he couldn't see much of it, but he realized it was something large and metallic.

Swallowing hard, he quickened his pace. Whatever he had gotten himself into, it was much bigger than him. And judging by the look on those officers' faces, he had just unknowingly smuggled something - or someone - very, very important into his apartment.

Haoyu wasted no time in moving away from the police station. Whatever had happened there, he didn't want to be caught in the middle of it. He took the phone out of his pocket and quickly dialed his agent.

“Hi, Haoyu? Where are you? Are you coming?”

Haoyu huffed, trying to sound a little sick. “Hey, so... I won't be able to make it today. I woke up with the flu, it's awful. Fever, bad throat, everything. I don't want to pass it on to anyone.”

“Really? You were fine yesterday.” The agent's voice sounded suspicious.

“Yeah, so... Yesterday when I was leaving, some idiot thought it would be funny to push me into the river, great right? I'm going to spend the day off. I swear I'll make it up to you later, okay?"

The agent sighed. “Yeah, I'll let them know. But rest up, no hanging around on the street.

“Yes, sir,” Haoyu replied, ending the call.

Without wasting any time, he turned around and headed back home. His heart was still racing from what he had seen. That bunch of officials,

the way they seemed to be investigating something big... He felt a chill run down his spine. 

“What the hell have I done?” he thought.

When he reached the apartment, he locked the door behind him and let out a long sigh. He quickly took off his shoes and walked into the living room - only to see that the place was in absolute chaos.

AR-17032 was messing with everything. Drawers and cabinets open, objects scattered around, some things on the floor. Even his magazine collection, which he used to leave neatly stacked, was now upended.

“Hey!” Haoyu exclaimed, raising his arms. “Really? My apartment's small, but you had to make it look like a hurricane came through?” He sighed and put his hands on his waist. “No, wait, it doesn't look like a hurricane, it looks like a robbery. At least tell me you didn't break anything expensive.”

AR-17032 turned to him, still in a visible state of panic. Her eyes fixed on Haoyu, and she pointed to her own empty pocket. “Cadê a minha chave?”

Haoyu blinked. “Huh?”

She repeated, a little louder. “Cadê a minha chave!”

“I don't know what you're talking about, woman!” Haoyu gestured dramatically, frustrated. “Is this about that thing that fell out of your pocket? Because if it is, it's in my bag. You don't have to destroy my house!”

The girl frowned, clearly not understanding. Her gaze began to move quickly around the apartment, as if trying to find some clue as to what to do next. Her hands were clenched into fists and her breathing was irregular.

Haoyu noticed the change in her expression and sighed. “Okay, okay, I get it. You're freaking out, I should be freaking out too, but we need to sort this out. And since I'm an absolute genius at communication-” he picked up a notebook and pen that the woman had thrown across the room ”-let's try something different.”

He quickly scribbled a drawing of a small circle, indicating a pocket on the side. Then he made a little figure raising its hands in confusion. Then he showed it to her. “That's what you want to know, isn't it?”

AR-17032 looked at the doodles and then at Haoyu. She didn't answer, but her steady gaze showed that she was at least trying to understand.

Haoyu rolled his eyes. “You know what? I'll get it for you.” He walked over to her bag, unzipped it and picked up the small metal object that had fallen out of her pocket last night, it felt heavier than he had expected. He went back and held out his hand, showing the object.

AR-17032's eyes went wide, and she immediately stepped forward, taking the object in both hands and analyzing it, as if checking that it was still intact. Visible relief crossed her face.

Haoyu crossed his arms. “Well, at least you don't look like you're going to rip my head off anymore. But seriously, you need to calm down. I don't know what happened to you, but you're safe here. My question is whether I'm safe with you here.”

She looked at him, clearly not understanding his words, but his tone of voice seemed to have some effect. Still anxious, but less frenzied, AR-17032 hugged the small object to her chest and pulled away a little, taking a deep breath.

Haoyu let out a sigh. “Good, now that the crisis has been partially resolved, I'm going to have some coffee. Because, honestly, I've had enough drama for today and it's not even ten in the morning.” He started walking towards the kitchen before stopping. “Are you hungry?”

AR-17032 watched the stranger as he gestured for her to follow him. He said something, as usual, but his alien language made no sense to her. Still, his gestures were easier to understand - he pointed to himself, to her and then to the other room, making a movement that seemed to be related to eating.

She hesitated.

This guy hadn't shown any hostility yet, but that didn't mean he could be trusted. Still, logic said that he knew something. He knew where they were, he knew something about this planet. She needed information and, as much as she hated the idea of depending on someone, she had no choice at the moment.

So, without saying anything, she followed him.

The other room looked like a food preparation area. It was nothing like the canteen made for the Iron Cavalry. Here, everything seemed simple, manual. There was a cooking surface, equipment she didn't quite recognize and an intense smell in the air.

The stranger picked up a cup and poured something dark into it before pushing it towards her.

AR-17032 frowned, observing the liquid in the glass. It was dark, thin and gave off a strong smell.

She stared at him, suspicious.

He, however, didn't even pay attention to her hesitation and turned to what looked like a hot surface, where he began to fry something. The smell soon filled the air, slightly oily and toasty. AR-17032 leaned forward, trying to identify what it was, but couldn't tell what it was.

When he had finally finished, the stranger served the food and sat down in front of her, placing his own plate on the table. Then he pointed to himself.

“I’m Haoyu.”

AR-17032 blinked.

He repeated, touching his own chest. “Haoyu.”

Then he pointed at her.

She immediately realized what he wanted. A name.

She pressed her lips together, hesitating for a moment. He didn't seem hostile, but the memory of waking up in an unfamiliar place still made her mind spin.

But in the end, he had no way of knowing who she was. He had no idea what AR-17032 represented.

“...AR-17032,” She replied, keeping her posture firm.

The stranger-Haoyu-frowned, as if trying to process the name. Then, with an expression she recognized as pure mockery, he repeated:

“How is that a name?”

AR-17032 felt a sharp pang of irritation when she saw the expression on his face. She didn't need to understand his language to know that the comment had been a joke at her expense. She frowned and crossed her arms, glaring at Haoyu.

He raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, but the mocking smile was still there.

Tsk. Ridículo.

AR-17032 looked away, turning back to the food on the table. She still wasn't sure if it was safe to eat it. The smell was strong, and the appearance was nothing like the food she was used to. She hardly ever ate in Divastea, the Iron Cavalry had been made to endure long periods without food, so hunger wouldn't get in the way of their goal. The dark liquid in the cup was also suspiciously hot, with an aroma she couldn't quite put her finger on.

Haoyu, however, seemed completely at ease. Without ceremony, he picked up a piece of food and bit into it, chewing without hesitation. He gestured to her, as if to say See? It's safe.

She narrowed her eyes at him.

Still, hesitantly, she took a bite. She stared at it for a moment before bringing it to her mouth and biting off a small piece.

The taste was... unexpected.

It wasn't bad. Strange, yes, but not unpleasant. The crunchy texture on the outside and softer inside surprised her, and a salty touch lingered on her tongue.

Haoyu nodded, looking satisfied as he watched her eat.

For a few minutes, the two ate in relative silence, only exchanging occasional glances. The initial tension eased and AR-17032 began to pay more attention to how he communicated. Even though she didn't understand his words, the gestures he made were clear enough for her to pick up on small intentions.

Eventually, Haoyu leaned forward and pointed at himself again.

“Haoyu.”

AR-17032 rolled her eyes. Sim, sim, eu já entendi.

He then pointed at her.

“And you are... AR-17032.” Haoyu made a face. He then began pointing at objects around the room and saying words.

AR-17032 watched intently. It was obvious what he was trying to do. Teach her his language.

She narrowed her eyes, suspicious. Haoyu wanted her to learn? She crossed her arms, appraising the young man, trying to think of some reason why.

After a moment, she let out a long sigh.

“...Certo.”

Haoyu blinked. He obviously didn't understand the word, but from the tone of her voice and the way AR-17032 picked up the glass and took a sip of the dark liquid-immediately frowning-he seemed to realize that she had accepted it.

His smug smile returned.

Chapter Text

Haoyu let out a soft sigh as he watched the television screen. “I kind of understand Miranda's side.”

Chang'e frowned as she wrote down the translation of a word she had just heard in her diary. “Why? She treats her subordinates like they're disposable.”

They were in the living room, watching The Devil Wears Prada. Haoyu was lying on his side on the sofa with a pillow against his chest, while Chang'e was sitting on the floor with her legs crossed, a dictionary on one knee and a small diary resting on the other. Haoyu insisted on watching the movie with subtitles, arguing that it would be easier for the Divastean to enjoy.

On the screen, Miranda Priestly, as impeccable as ever - in Haoyu's words, had just been given a project that clearly didn't live up to her expectations. With a simple raise of her eyebrow and a cutting silence, she made the whole room shrink in anticipation.

Andy, the protagonist, was trying to keep her composure, but was clearly out of her element.

- You have no idea what's going on here, do you? - Miranda finally said, her voice icy as she flipped through the folder in disgust.

Chang'e tilted her head, looking at Haoyu. “She didn't have to say much and everyone already looks terrified.”

Haoyu simply shrugged. “It's the power of her presence. She doesn't even have to shout. One glance is enough.”

Chang'e paused for a moment and then muttered: “I knew someone like that.”

Haoyu raised an eyebrow. “A friend of yours from your planet?”

She nodded. “Yes, he was from my planet, but he definitely wasn't my friend. He was one of our creators, but he never raised his voice when he spoke to us, yet me and my... siblings? I suppose I should call them that, would tense up just at the mere sight of him. As if any mistake would be our last. Which it usually was .” Chang'e whispered the last part as her eyes returned to the screen, where Miranda continued to vent her silent contempt. “The way she discards people when they're no longer of any use... really reminds me of him.”

Haoyu was silent for a moment before asking, “And what happened to him?”

Chang'e looked away. “The same that happened to all the others. Dead.” 

Haoyu didn't know what to do in response, Chang'e's words making the atmosphere between them more tense and silent, only the movie and the sound of pencils scratching in a notebook could be heard there. 

“I... I'm sorry for asking. It must not be very comfortable to talk about these sorts of topics.” That's all he was able to say, trying to focus his mind on the movie again.

They resumed watching the movie in silence for a while, the tension fading from the place until Chang'e frowned and asked: “But why does she care so much about clothes?”

Haoyu laughed lightly. “Didn't you pay attention to the lines?”

Chang'e rolled her eyes. “I listened. But I still don't understand how pieces of cloth can have so much power over people.”

Haoyu smiled. “It's more than fabric. I can't say what it was like on your planet, but here clothes show your status, your influence. It's about how the world sees you.”

Chang'e made a noise of affirmation, glancing back at the screen. “I can't say much about what fashion was like there either. I just know that the clothes they handed us were different from what our creators wore.”

Haoyu frowned, leaning forward a little on the sofa. “How different?”

Chang'e was silent for a moment, thinking of the right words. “They were simpler. More practical. No ornaments or unnecessary details. Theirs... had symbols, elaborate stitching. They were made to show that they were different from us, from their soldiers, not for the sake of efficiency.”

Haoyu nodded slowly. “I guess it's not so different from here. Those with power want others to know that just by looking.”

Chang'e crossed her arms. “So, clothes are like flags. They serve to show which class you belong to.”

Haoyu smiled. “That's one way of looking at it. Haven't you ever had something of your own? An outfit you liked?”

She thought for a moment before shaking her head. “No. We only got what we were given. There was no choice, after all, my siblings and I were constantly in combat, the clothes wouldn't last long.”

He blinked a few times, processing the answer. “That's... kind of sad. Here, even those who have little try to have something that expresses who they are.”

Chang'e looked at him, curious. “What about you? Do your clothes say anything about you?”

Haoyu looked down at himself, wearing a baggy T-shirt and comfortable pants. “At the moment? That I like to be more relaxed at home. But at work, well... I dress according to the theme.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Have you ever worn anything like that?” She pointed to the screen, where Miranda Priestly appeared flawless in a sophisticated outfit.

Haoyu laughed. “Not exactly like that, but I wear some pretty stylish clothes when I need to model. Some of them are a bit uncomfortable, but that's part of it.”

Chang'e looked at the movie again, processing the information. “So, for you, clothes can be a burden, but also work.”

“That's right.” Haoyu squinted. “And sometimes an armor.”

“How could that be armor?” Chang'e asked, her face brimming with confusion. “‘Fabrics like that can't protect you in battle’.”

Haoyu shrugged. “Not in the physical sense, but in the psychological. If you dress powerfully, people hesitate a little before facing you. You impose your presence before you even open your mouth.”

Chang'e reflected for a moment, looking back at the screen. “That still doesn't make much sense to me.”

Haoyu laughed. “Give it some time. Maybe one day you'll try on that 'social armor' and see for yourself?”

“I don't need it,” she said with conviction, straightening up on the floor. “I actually have an armor that really protects me!”

Haoyu laughed lightly, shaking his head as they both went back to paying attention to the movie. After a few minutes, he blinked a few times, frowning as he realized what the girl had said.

“Wait a minute... what?” he asked, clearly confused. “Like, an actual one?”

Chang'e nodded, without taking her eyes off the screen. “Yes.”

Haoyu continued to stare at his friend, waiting for her to say something more, but Chang'e didn't seem to think she needed to explain anything beyond that.

“You're messing with me, right?” he laughed, sitting straight on the sofa and crossing his arms. “Because, since I met you a few months ago, I've never seen this so-called armor.”

Chang'e finally looked at him, blinking slowly, as if only now realizing his confusion. “That's because I've never had to wear it.”

Haoyu opened his mouth to reply, but stopped. He couldn't tell if she was making fun of him or being serious, it was often hard to tell.

“Okay, but what kind of armor is it?” he insisted. “Have you hidden it somewhere?”

Chang'e tilted her head, as if trying to find a word that made sense. “I... activate it?”

" 'Activate'?" Haoyu repeated, even more baffled.

Chang'e just nodded. For her, that word seemed enough.

Haoyu stared at her for a few more seconds before sighing in defeat. “ Alright. One day you'll show it to me, then.”

Chang'e shrugged, turning her attention back to the movie. “I hope I never have to show it to you.”

☆☆

The movie was over, the credits slowly rolling on the screen while a soft soundtrack filled the room. Haoyu stretched out on the sofa, running a hand through his hair. Glancing at Chang'e, he saw that she was still holding the dictionary, flipping through a few pages without much focus.

“So...” Haoyu began, drumming his fingers against the arm of the sofa. “I was thinking about something.”

Chang'e looked up from the book, arching an eyebrow. “What?”

He gave a small smile, leaning forward. “We could go out and buy you some new clothes.”

Chang'e's expression became slightly confused. “Buy more clothes? But I already have clothes.”

Haoyu gestured in her direction. “Yes, but most of them don't fit you properly. Some are too tight because we chose everything in a hurry last time. And, let's face it, you need a nicer, more comfortable closet.”

She looked away, touching the hem of the blouse she was wearing. It was a simple garment, but a little tight around the shoulders and arms. The clothes Haoyu had bought in the first few days were more a quick attempt to solve the problem of need than a thoughtful choice. For someone as tall and with a larger physique than the local women, finding something that really fit was not so simple.

“I can just keep wearing those. It's not like I need anything more than the basics,” Chang'e muttered, but Haoyu realized that she wasn't completely against the idea.

“Okay, but it won't hurt to have better options,” he insisted, getting up from the sofa and stretching out his arms. “Besides, going out for a while can be fun. You also need to get used to other people.”

Chang'e remained thoughtful for a few seconds before finally letting out a soft sigh. “ All right. But I don't want anything over the top.”

“No gala dresses, got it,” Haoyu joked, picking up his cell phone and checking the time. “We can go out now, if you like.”

Chang'e hesitated. She liked the idea of going out-the human world was still fascinating to her, and exploring it was something she would like to do-but at the same time, there was a knot of apprehension in her chest. The mere thought of walking among humans always brought her a little discomfort. What if they looked at her too much and realized that she really wasn't human? What if they asked her questions she couldn't answer?

She stood up slowly. “Let's go then.” Her tone was firm, but Haoyu noticed that there was something about her, a slight shrug that indicated that, despite her excitement, she was also afraid.

Haoyu noticed this and, instead of commenting, just gave a small smile. “Right, Chang'e. Let's find you some decent clothes this time.”

He took the keys to the apartment and held the door open for her to go through. Chang'e left, straightening the collar of her blouse and taking a deep breath. It was just a shopping trip. Nothing more than that.

☆

The city was crowded, with people coming and going along the narrow sidewalks. Haoyu and Chang'e walked side by side, attracting a bit of attention wherever they went. It wasn't often that you saw a woman over two meters tall walking casually through the streets, let alone with yellowish-green eyes so vibrant that they seemed to glow in the sunlight.

Chang'e was excited, looking at the buildings and shop windows with curiosity. She felt more at ease in the city than the first few days she had spent there, but there was still a slight fear in her gaze. She noticed the furtive glances of the people around her and felt as if she were a target of constant curiosity.

At one point, when the duo were checking out a particular store, a group of teenagers were whispering as they passed them. One of them, a bit bolder, came closer and asked with a curious tone:

“Hey, lady, your lenses are so awesome! Where did you buy them?” asked a girl, looking fascinated at Chang'e's wide eyes.

Chang'e blinked, slightly confused by the question. “Lenses?”

Before she could continue, Haoyu quickly entered the conversation, patting her arm casually. “Ah, we bought them online a while ago. But to be honest, I can't even remember the name of the store anymore. Sorry.”

The teenagers let out a sound of understanding, still admiring the supposed lenses. “Gosh, they look so real!”

“Yes, they're a very exclusive pattern,” added Haoyu, trying to maintain a relaxed tone, but feeling slightly nervous. He knew that if Chang'e decided to contradict him there, things would get weird.

Chang'e, for her part, tilted her head, looking at Haoyu with a look that clearly said what the fuck are you talking about? But, realizing that he must have a reason for this lie, she decided to just cross her arms and mutter a brief “Ah... yes, exclusive.”

The group seemed satisfied and soon moved away, still commenting on how natural the lenses looked.

As soon as they were alone again, Chang'e cast a corner glance at Haoyu. “Lenses? Really?”

Haoyu sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets. “What did you want? Say you were born with shiny eyes and make people even more curious?”

She let out a dramatic sigh, but didn't argue. “I still don't understand why you care so much about different eyes.”

“Because humans aren't born with such colorful eyes, Chang'e.”

She just snorted, following beside him as they continued their walk.

Haoyu pushed open the door of the clothing store and held it for Chang'e to enter. She hesitated for a moment before passing through the door, looking around with a mixture of curiosity and discomfort. The store wasn't particularly large, but it had organized racks and neat shelves, displaying a variety of simple and casual clothes. A few people cast discreet glances in her direction, but most were too busy with their own shopping to pay much attention.

“Right,” Haoyu began, looking around. “We need to find some decent clothes that are more comfortable for you. And that fit.”

Chang'e crossed her arms. “The clothes you bought me weren't that bad.”

“No, they were awful,” he retorted. “You keep pulling the bottom of your shirts down and complaining that some of them are too tight.”

She couldn't argue. The clothes really had been chosen in a hurry, based on what he could find that was big enough for her size. Some pieces fit well, but others were a bit too tight around the shoulders or too short. Besides, now that she was going to be spending more time away from home, it would be better to have more suitable options.

“Let's start with shirts and pants,” he suggested, pulling her into one of the store's sections.

Chang'e watched as Haoyu picked up some cotton T-shirts - white, gray, black, and navy blue. He also picked up a few pieces with simple prints and one or two with band and movie logos. “Do you like any of these?”

She ran her fingers through the fabric, feeling the soft texture. “They're better than the ones I have.”

“Good. Now, pants.”

They headed to the pants section, where Haoyu picked up a few pairs of sweatshirts and baggy leggings. He also found some comfortable skirts and shorts. “Try these on and see which ones fit best.”

Chang'e took the clothes and went to the fitting room. Haoyu waited outside, looking absent-mindedly at the labels on some of the nearby garments. 

Chang'e entered the fitting room carrying the clothes Haoyu had chosen for her. The space was small, barely accommodating her height, and the tall mirror at the back reflected her full figure in the cold light. She let out a sigh, placing the clothes on the metal bench before lifting the first garment - a dark blue cotton T-shirt.

For a moment, she hesitated. The soft fabric in her hands was so different from the sturdy garments she wore in Divastea. Different from her standard uniform and the armor that always covered her body. There, alone in that enclosed space, she felt a slight discomfort as she realized how fragile and strange she felt inside these human clothes. She took a deep breath before taking off her previous clothes and pulling the T-shirt over her head, adjusting it to her torso. It was a little tight, but at least it wasn't uncomfortable.

The mirror stared back at her, and Chang'e ran her eyes over her own image. She wasn't human, it seemed less evident to other humans, but it was clear on her face. Even when dressed in mundane clothes, her body gave her away. Her eyes, her height, the slightly more robust shape of her frame. Yet there she was, trying to fit into something she had never been designed to be part of.

Moving slowly, she turned her arms to closer examine her skin. There were scars along them, traces of past battles, some thin and clear, others even slightly darker. Silent witnesses to what she had already faced. Chang'e touched one in particular on her left shoulder, an irregular line that went halfway down her back. It was an old one, from an explosion in one of the conflicts against the Swarm in the past. Her eyes also wandered to her face, where a scar resided on her forehead, partially hidden by her hair.

Chang'e had been injured so many times since she first opened her eyes that she couldn't remember exactly when her scars had been inflicted, but it was a different story when it came to this particular scar. She could still feel the burning in that area, just like the day she got it.

The Divastean remembers her siblings saying how lucky she had been, after all, the helmet of her armor had been partially destroyed in the middle of the fight, leaving a good part of her face unprotected. 

She had been ordered to remain on the battlefield with her siblings, none of whom were allowed to retreat, regardless of their injuries. Without her helmet to help purify the air, the only thing she could smell was the constant stench of flesh, blood and smoke. 

She had been careless at one point, which had led to a large burning claw grazing her forehead, leaving a large, smoking wound. The heat had been high enough to cauterize the edges instantly, preventing excessive blood loss but inflicting a painful burn.

She slid her fingers over the edges of the scar, her breathing shaky and seemed sparse, as if she was being pulled back to the moment she had received it. The putrid smell of burnt bodies and hot metal filled her mind, and for an instant, the atmosphere of the fitting room dissolved. There were no more mirrors, hangers or clothes. Just the battlefield. Just the crushing weight of what she really was. A soldier. 

A weapon.

The walls seemed to close in around her. Her legs grew weak, Chang'e suddenly became fully aware of the lack of the Key in her possession, she was totally vulnerable. Unprotected.

Swallowing dryly, she forced herself to take a deep breath, her lungs burning with the effort. This was stupid. This wasn't really happening. The battlefield, the war had been left behind. The smell of blood and bodies wasn't there. But no matter how much she told herself it was in the past, her body didn't seem to believe it.

The mirror in front of her seemed to mock her, showing a figure that was trying to fit into a world to which it didn't belong. The soft fabric of her new clothes contrasted cruelly with the armor that should have been there, as if she were trying to erase something that was engraved on her very flesh.

Then a soft knock on the fitting room door cut through the heavy air.

“Excuse me,” came the soft voice of an attendant from outside. “Your friend wanted to know if everything was all right? You're taking a while to come out. He asked me to check if anything had happened.”

The words hit Chang'e like a cold shock, snapping her back to reality. Her gaze blinked rapidly back to the present. The smell of the store, the feel of the fabric, the sensation of the floor beneath her feet - it all came back at once. The muffled sound of people talking, the noise of the ambient music. She was here. She was no longer in Divastea.

Chang'e forced air into her lungs, straightening up a little. “I'm fine,” her voice came out a little rougher than she had intended. She cleared her throat and tried again. “I'm just... finishing up here. I'll be right out.”

The attendant hesitated for a moment, but then muttered a brief “All right” before walking away.

Chang'e looked at her reflection in the mirror once more. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to steady her thoughts as she tried on the other garments.

To an outsider, it might seem that she was fitting in well, but inside, she felt out of place. A soldier trying to camouflage herself in a peaceful life. Her fingers touched the hem of her T-shirt before she let her arms fall to her sides. A part of her knew that she would never truly belong in that world. 

Outside, Haoyu was waiting a little further away, leaning against one of the store's walls. He was holding some shopping bags and, when he saw her leave, he looked up, the traces of worry still present in his expression. His eyes scanned Chang'e quickly, noticing her slightly pale and tense countenance.

“It took you a while in there,” he commented, trying to sound unconcerned, but his voice carried a tone of slight unease. “Is everything all right?”

Chang'e hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Yes. I just... got a bit distracted by the details of these new clothes.”

Haoyu arched an eyebrow, as if he wasn't entirely convinced, but he didn't want to insist. “Well, if you've finished, we can go and pay, bring any items you want. But remember, nothing too tight. You've had enough trouble getting some clothes on before.”

Chang'e let out a slight laugh through her nose and picked up the clothes she had chosen. 

Haoyu went to the cashier and passed the clothes over. The clerk glanced quickly at Chang'e before giving her a polite smile and informing her of the amount. Haoyu paid and took the bags, handing one to Chang'e to hold.

“There, now you have real clothes.”

She looked at the bags in her hand and then at him. “Thank you.”

Chang'e followed beside him as they left the store, still feeling her heart racing a little, but forcing herself to return to the present. That was what really mattered now.

When leaving the store, Chang’e adjusted the bags in her hands, still feeling a heavy tension in her chest. She didn’t want Haoyu to notice that something indeed happened in the dressing room, so she tried keeping a neutral expression, trying to focus on her surroundings. The young man glanced at her, seemingly pondering something before finally speaking.

“So, how about we go to an Arcade?” He suggested, shrugging his shoulders. “Since we’re here, it might be fun,”

Chang’e slightly frowned. “What’s an Arcade?”

Haoyu looked surprised for a moment, before remembering the fact that his friend was from a different planet. “It’s a place where you play games.” It has machines where you put tokens in and can play all sorts of games, like racing, fighting, shooting, that kind of thing.”

The Divastean's expression morphed into pure interest. "So it's a place to train combat skills?"

Haoyu laughed. " Kinda. It's just games, not anything real. But it can be a way of testing reflexes and coordination. And it's fun."

Chang'e seemed to consider for a moment before nodding. "Right, let's check out this arcade."

The young man smiled contentedly and pulled his flip phone out of his pocket, making sure there was an arcade nearby. Without wasting any time, the two of them made their way towards the place, mingling with the crowds in the late-afternoon streets.

The arcade was full of teens, the noise of the machines mixing with laughter, shouts of excitement and the electronic sound of buttons being pressed at a frenetic speed. The lights flashed throughout the place, reflecting in the green eyes of Chang'e, who was watching everything intently. Her gaze flicked from one machine to another, absorbing the chaotic and energetic environment. She had never seen anything like it.

Haoyu smiled as she noticed her friend's expression. "So? What do you think?"

"It's too colorful," replied Chang'e, still absorbed by the intense brightness around her. "And noisy. Is it always like this?"

Haoyu laughed. "Well, this is an arcade. You can play using these tokens." He took some and showed them to her. "You insert them into the machine and you can play. Do you want to try?"

Chang'e picked up a token and looked at it curiously. "And how do you win?"

"It depends on the game," Haoyu explained, pointing to a row of shooting machines. "Let's start with something I think you might like. Shooting games. I bet you'll do well."

He guided Chang'e to one of the machines with a plastic gun attached to its base. The screen showed a post-apocalyptic scenario, where the aim was to defeat zombies that appeared in waves. Haoyu paid for the games and handed the gun to Chang'e, who held it firmly.

"You have to aim and shoot the enemies before they hit you. It's simple. Let's see how you do."

Chang'e looked at the screen, then at the gun in her hands. The weight was different from any weapon she had ever held, but the idea was similar. As soon as the game started and the first enemies appeared on the screen, her body reacted instinctively. She aimed and fired without hesitation, hitting each enemy with impressive precision.

Haoyu blinked, surprised. "Wow. Are you for real? You've never played this before?"

Chang'e kept her eyes on the screen, her quick reflexes eliminating the enemies one by one. "Not exactly this game, but..." She paused between shots. "I've had to shoot before."

Haoyu crossed his arms, watching as his friend cleared the stage without missing a single shot. The game picked up pace, the enemies got faster, but Chang'e managed to keep up as if she already knew the patterns. When the match ended, the scoreboard showed an absurdly high score.

Haoyu whistled. "That was ridiculous. You destroyed the game."

Chang'e tilted her head. "It was fun."

Haoyu was still a little baffled by how easily she handled shooting games, but then he had an idea. "How about a game that requires more aiming and coordination? Let's see if you're good at that too."

He took her to a basketball game. It was simple: shoot as many balls into the hoop as possible within a time limit. Haoyu demonstrated by picking up one of the balls and making a shot that, to his own embarrassment, hit the rim and went out.

Chang'e picked up a ball and tried spinning it in her fingers, testing the weight. "And the goal is to get the ball into that hoop?"

"Exactly. Let's see how good your aim is without a gun in your hand."

She didn't answer. She just positioned herself as she had seen Haoyu do and threw the ball with one fluid movement. The ball had made an arc and passed through the hoop without touching the rim.

Haoyu blinked. "What..."

Chang'e picked up another ball and did the same. Another perfect basket. Then another. And another.

Haoyu just crossed his arms and chuckled in disbelief.

"Okay, now you're just humiliating me. How the hell do you do it so easily?"

Chang'e picked up another ball and threw it, again without missing. "I often used to throw with something smaller than this."

"What was it?"

She looked at him and shrugged. "Grenades."

Haoyu was silent for a few seconds before breaking into laughter. "You're kidding, right?"

Chang'e just smiled, throwing another ball and hitting another perfect basket, thus finishing the time.

"Of course I'm kidding," said Chang'e, with a sideways smile. "We didn't have any grenades. I just have a good aim, unlike you."

Haoyu snorted, crossing his arms. "Oh, right, you say that based on a single shot I missed?" He shook his head, trying to disguise his frustration with a smile. "But all right, ‘oh great sharpshooter’, let's see if you can keep up that performance."

Chang'e arched an eyebrow, her smile widening. "Do you want to compete?”

Haoyu hesitated for a second, but his pride spoke louder. "Sure, why not? But this time, let's play something that doesn't involve basketballs. Your height should be considered stealing in games like this."

He looked around the arcade and then pulled Chang'e close to a racing machine. "Here. Let's see if your impeccable eyesight helps when you have to pilot a car at high speed."

Chang'e looked at the game's flashing screen, showing an urban circuit full of sharp turns and obstacles. She leaned forward, examining the controls, which were a steering wheel and pedals. "I've never driven anything like this. We didn't use cars to get around."

"Well, too bad." Haoyu said, sliding a token into the machine and sitting behind the wheel. "Pick a car and let's see if you're as good at it as you are with guns and hoops."

Chang'e chose a sturdy vehicle, relying on instinct. The game began and, within the first few seconds, she realized that driving wasn't as easy as aiming and shooting. She turned sharply, hitting a virtual wall with a high-pitched scream, while Haoyu laughed alongside.

"I think I've finally found something I'm better at than you!" He sneered, neatly sidestepping an obstacle.

Chang'e clenched her teeth, determined. She adjusted her focus and in a few minutes managed to catch up with Haoyu, surpassing the boy when she made him crash on a straight road. "What did you say?" she teased, looking at him out of the corner of her eye.

The two continued to compete, exchanging teasing and laughter as the race continued. Chang'e felt something different at that moment: a lightness, a genuine fun that he hadn't experienced for a long time. For a moment, she forgot her scars, the war, Divastea. Only that moment existed, in that arcade, competing against a friend.

When the race was over, Haoyu narrowly won, but Chang'e accepted defeat with an exaggerated sigh and a smile.

"It was luck," she said, getting up from her seat.

Haoyu raised his hands in the air in celebration, a smug smile forming on his face. " Luck? No, no. This-" He pointed at the screen, where the word "Victory" flashed in large, eye-catching letters. "-is pure skill. I'm the handsome version of Toretto!"

Chang'e crossed her arms and arched an eyebrow, looking at him with a mixed expression of skepticism and amusement. "Skill, huh? You barely managed to stay on the track, Haoyu. I only lost because I wasn't used to these controls."

He laughed, swiveling around in the seat of the racing simulator to face her. " Excuses, excuses... Accept defeat with dignity, Chang'e."

She rolled her eyes, but the corner of her mouth curved slightly. "Next time, pick a game where I can really use my aim, and we'll see who wins."

Haoyu snapped his fingers, as if accepting a challenge. "Deal. But first, let's get something to eat. Defeating you made me hungry.”

Chang'e crossed her arms when she heard Haoyu's suggestion, tilting her head slightly to the side. "I'm not hungry. I ate a lot a few days ago."

Haoyu immediately stopped walking and turned to face her, frowning. "You know that humans eat every day, right? Several times a day, in fact."

"Yes, I know. I've noticed enough to understand that," she replied, shrugging. "But I'm not human. I don't need to eat that often."

The young man let out a tired sigh and rubbed his forehead. He already knew that discussing this subject with her was always complicated. Ever since they had moved in together, he had realized that Chang'e didn't follow the same eating pattern as him. She could go for days without touching food, just drinking water, and when she finally decided to eat, she would just make a nice big meal and go back to ignoring the need for a few more days. For Haoyu, this was strange and worrying.

"Even so," he insisted, crossing his arms. "You're living here. And if you're going to live here, you need to try to adapt at least a little."

Chang'e just sighed, understanding that Haoyu wouldn't be satisfied if she simply refused to accompany him. "All right. But I'm not hungry.”

Haoyu rolled his eyes, but accepted the small victory. "Right. At least come with me. I don't like eating alone."

They walked to the snack bar area of the arcade. The smell of frying and grilled hamburgers was strong in the air, and there were several tables occupied by other young people who had been playing minutes ago. Some people were eating while chatting animatedly, others were glued to their cell phones, and some still had tokens in their hands, waiting to finish their meal and get back to the games.

Haoyu walked up to the counter, looking at the menu above him. Chang'e stopped next to him, looking around carefully.

"I'll have a cheeseburger, a small portion of fries and an orange juice," Haoyu said to the attendant, before looking at Chang'e. "Are you sure you don't want anything?"

She nodded, but Haoyu didn't seem convinced. After a second's hesitation, he added to the order: "Actually, swap the portion for a large one, please."

Chang'e narrowed her eyes at him, suspicious. "I just said I'm not hungry."

"I know," Haoyu replied with an innocent smile. "But fries don't count. Everyone eats fries, even when they're not hungry."

Chang'e just sighed and curled a lock of her hair in her fingers. Not thinking it was worth arguing with him. Haoyu paid for their order and, while they waited, he picked up a straw and started twirling it between his fingers without looking at her.

"You know," he began, "if you don't want to eat because you think you'll be a nuisance or something, you don't have to think like that. The food is here, available. There's no point in avoiding it just for the sake of avoiding it."

Chang'e looked away, but didn't answer right away. It was difficult for her to explain. Eating had never been a priority or a pleasure for her. It was just an occasional biological necessity. The idea of doing it often, of worrying about having daily meals, was foreign to her.

Soon, the order was ready, and Haoyu picked up the tray, heading for an empty table. Chang'e followed him and sat down opposite to him, resting her arms on the table after leaving the bags of clothes on the floor next to her. He took a big bite and sighed with satisfaction, chewing slowly. "I've missed eating one of these."

Chang'e watched for a moment before looking at the portion of fries that Haoyu had purposely placed closer to her. The smell was strong, and the crunchy texture looked interesting. After a few seconds, she picked up a potato and brought it to her mouth.

Haoyu smiled at the sight, but didn't say anything. He knew that if he provoked her, she might simply stop eating just to annoy him. He just continued to enjoy his snack, satisfied that at least he had managed to get her to eat something.

"My biology is different from yours, you know that, right?" Chang'e commented, picking up another potato. "My body was created not to need constant nourishment like yours."

Haoyu rolled his eyes as he picked up his snack and took a generous bite. "Yes, I know that,” He said sarcastically before lowering his voice, “ you self-sufficient alien lady." He chewed quickly before continuing. "But that doesn't mean you can't eat for pleasure, right? Didn't you say you liked the taste of some things?”

Chang'e made a sound of agreement, picking up another potato and chewing slowly. "I like them, but that doesn't mean I need them."

Haoyu pointed at her with a fry. "Then eat them because you like them, not because you need them."

She frowned, looking at the piece of potato in her hand. The salty, crunchy taste was pleasant, but it still seemed strange to eat without the physiological need to do so. However, Haoyu's insistence made her give in a little more than she normally would.

"You're unbearable," she muttered, picking up another potato and biting into it with less hesitation.

Haoyu smiled with satisfaction. "That's what friends are for."

His sentence made Chang'e pause, staring into Haoyu's brown eyes. "Friends?" She said with confused delight.

Haoyu blinked a few times, surprised by Chang'e's reaction. He chewed the piece of snack in his mouth and tilted his head slightly.

"Yes... friends," he repeated, as if he didn't understand what the doubt was.

Chang'e continued to stare at him, her gaze intense and full of unspoken thoughts. The word echoed in his mind in a strangely meaningful way. Friends. Not battle brothers, not temporary allies, not acquaintances forced by circumstances. Friends.

She opened her mouth to say something, but hesitated. In Divastea you allied with someone because it was the only option. But Haoyu didn't have to help her, he didn't have to teach her about that planet, he didn't have to worry about whether she ate or not.

But he did it all the time anyway.

Chang'e lowered her gaze to the fries, holding one between her fingers. "That's... new to me."

Haoyu arched an eyebrow. "What? Having friends?"

She nodded slowly, feeling a strange warmth in her chest. "I guess so."

Haoyu watched her for a few seconds, then let out a small sigh and patted the table between them lightly.

"Then it's time you got used to it." He smiled, going back to munching on his snack.

Chang'e remained silent for a moment, then picked up another potato and chewed slowly, as if savoring something other than salt and crunch.

It didn't take long for them to finish eating, Haoyu soon began to gather up the garbage and put it on the plastic tray, getting up and taking some tokens out of his pocket, leaving them in front of Chang'e.

Chang'e picked up the metal tokens with a curious expression, turning one between his fingers as Haoyu took the tray from the table.

"If you want to play some more, go ahead," he said, balancing the trash with one hand. "I'll meet you in a few minutes after I throw this in the trash."

She looked at the chips, then at the arcade full of lights and sounds, and finally at Haoyu, who was already walking to the trash can. The idea of exploring alone didn't bother her - after all, she was used to doing things on her own - but there was something different about this situation. It wasn't a mission. It wasn't training. It was just... for fun.

Chang'e pressed the chips into her palm and stood up. Her gaze roamed over the flashing machines, the teenagers gathered around some of them, the laughter and frustrated expressions of those who had narrowly lost. There were so many options.

She began to walk around the arcade, looking at the different games. Some seemed simple, like those where all you had to do was press buttons quickly. Others involved racing or fighting, which made her frown-Haoyu would probably love those.

It was when she stopped in front of a machine that caught her eye. It was different from the games she had experienced before. Apparently a metal claw descended to try and catch prizes inside a transparent glass. At the top of the machine, an eye-catching sign glowed: "Get Your Prize!"

Chang'e tilted her head slightly, analyzing the structure. It didn't look that difficult. She took a token and put it into the machine, watching the claw move as she moved the controls. She looked at the prizes inside the glass - stuffed animals, mysterious little boxes, some colorful key chains.

"What's the logic of this game...?" she muttered to herself, concentrating.

She moved the claw carefully, aiming for a small plush of what looked like a yellow mouse that was partially loose among the other toys. She pressed the button to lower the claw and watched as the mechanism grabbed the mouse. For a moment, it looked like she was going to succeed... until the claw opened slightly and the toy fell back.

Chang'e narrowed her eyes.

Her pride shouted that it wasn't her mistake - it was the machine itself. She put in another token and tried again, this time adjusting her strategy. The claw came down, caught the rat, lifted it up... and once again dropped it before it reached the exit.

She bit the inside of her cheek, staring at the machine as if she were facing an opponent.

Haoyu returned at that very moment, holding a bag of candy he had bought at the snack bar next door. When he saw Chang'e standing in front of the machine with her arms crossed and an intense expression, he knew something was up.

"Don't tell me you've fallen into the claw trap?" he asked, stopping next to her.

Chang'e looked at him, pointing at the glass. "That doesn't make sense. I got the toy, but that claw is useless!"

Haoyu laughed, opening the candy bag. "That's because these machines are made to trick people. If it was easy, no one would spend money on them."

She blinked, absorbing the information. "So it's a scam?"

"Exactly."

Chang'e looked at the yellow mouse again, thoughtful. Then she slowly picked up another token.

Haoyu raised his hands. "Hey, you've just seen that it's a fraud. Are you going to try again anyway?"

"There must be some way to win," she said simply. "I just need to find it.”

Haoyu watched as Chang'e concentrated again. He couldn't help but smile. She took everything very seriously, even something as silly as an arcade game.

And, deep down, he was rooting for her to win.

Taking advantage of the fact that her attention was fully on the game, he decided to step away for a moment. He reached into his pocket and pulled out some tickets that had accumulated while they were playing. In fact, Chang'e had won most of them - especially after scoring almost all the points in the basketball game.

Haoyu walked over to the arcade's prize counter, where a bored attendant was organizing small objects inside the transparent glass. The display case was full of different prizes, from cheap sweets to larger toys that required an absurd number of points to redeem. He scanned the shelves, trying to decide what might be worthwhile.

Most of the options seemed pointless - bright pens, colorful stickers, generic key chains with words like "Champion!" or "Good Luck!". There were also some cheap plastic toys, which would probably break on first use. He sighed, half-regretting not having checked out the prizes before deciding to spend time accumulating tokens.

But then something caught his eye.

Hanging from one corner of the counter were small plush keychains in the shape of the green aliens from Toy Story. The ones with the three big eyes and the silly grin. Haoyu frowned for a moment - he had never been particularly fond of these characters, but something about them made him stop and think.

Aliens.

He looked at Chang'e, who was still fighting the claw machine, determined to win the battle against the unfair claw system.

Haoyu smiled. That was it.

He pointed at the key rings. "How many points for those?"

The attendant looked at him wearily and then at the key rings. "Fifty each."

Haoyu took out his tickets and handed them to the clerk, who used one of the small machines behind him to count the points, fortunately he could take two without any problems.

"I'll take two."

The attendant shrugged and took the key rings off the hook, handing them to him. Haoyu took the little toys and looked at them closely. They were soft, with little embroidered eyes and small metal hooks to hang on backpacks or keys. They weren't big, but they were well made for something so simple.

He put the key rings in his jacket pocket and looked at Chang'e again.

She was still there, with her eyebrows furrowed and her gaze fixed on the claw machine, looking determined to get her hands on that yellow plush.

Haoyu laughed softly, shaking his head.

Whether she would like the present or not, he didn't know, but... it felt right to give it to her.

Haoyu heard the dry sound of something slamming hard against the machine's panel as he looked away, followed by a word he had definitely never heard before.

He frowned, stopping midway before reaching Chang'e.

"...What was that?"

When he got closer, he saw Chang'e still with her hand clenched over the button of the claw machine, her eyes fixed on the fallen plush right next to the hole. Her expression was full of frustration, her jaw tense.

It took her a few seconds before she finally released the button. Or at least tried to.

Because the moment her fist pulled away, Haoyu noticed that the button hadn't returned to its original position.

He blinked.

"Wait."

Chang'e, seemingly still absorbed in her own irritation, didn't react immediately, she just continued speaking what sounded like profanities in her native language.

"Chang'e..." Haoyu leaned over a little, taking a closer look. "Did you break the button?"

She finally looked away from the machine and pressed the button lightly with her finger. It sank in a little more, but didn't go back.

There was a brief silence.

"Hm." Chang'e tilted her head with a half smile. "Looks like it."

Haoyu felt a mixture of astonishment and disbelief.

"What do you mean 'looks like it'?! You hit this thing hard enough to break?!"

"I didn't even hit it that hard. You humans build objects that are easy to break."

"That was a whole punch!"

Chang'e rolled her eyes.

"It wasn't a punch, just... a blow of frustration."

Haoyu put a hand to his face.

"My God, we need to get out of here before anyone notices."

He looked around quickly, but no one seemed to have noticed the little incident. At least not yet.

Chang'e shrugged and moved away from the machine.

"I was already losing patience with this very thing."

Haoyu still couldn't believe that she had broken an arcade button, but he decided not to prolong the matter. He just wanted to get out of there before some employee came to see what had happened.

And deep down, he was trying not to laugh.

Haoyu almost dragged Chang'e out of the place. He didn't know if any employees had realized that the claw machine's button was now unusable, but he honestly didn't want to stick around to find out.

They only stopped walking when they got close to Haoyu's apartment. He let out a relieved sigh, putting his hands in his pockets as he looked at Chang'e, who seemed completely unconcerned about what he had just done.

He crossed his arms, taking on a teasing tone:

"You know... you look really sad that you couldn't get anything out of that machine."

Chang'e raised an eyebrow.

"I'm not sad."

"Are you sure?" Haoyu smiled sideways. "Because I saw that glimmer of hope in your eyes seconds before the claw let go of the plush again."

She snorted.

"I don't care that much about a stuffed toy."

"Well, that's a shame, I'd bought something for both of us."

Haoyu then reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the plush keychains, waving them gently in front of her. The little green aliens from Toy Story stared at Chang'e with their three stitched eyes and a silly grin.

Chang'e frowned, tilting her head slightly.

"What are those little things?"

"They're aliens."

Her gaze immediately narrowed.

"Aliens?" she repeated slowly.

"Yes." Haoyu laughed, anticipating her reaction. " Small green aliens.”

Chang'e was silent for a moment, then she raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms.

"You gave me an alien because I'm an alien?"

Haoyu cracked a mischievous smile.

"Yes. They reminded me of you."

Chang'e put a hand to her chest, widening her eyes as if deeply offended.

"Haoyu!" she exclaimed. "You dare imply that I look like that?"

Haoyu blinked.

" ...No?"

Chang'e held her expression for a few more seconds before a small smile escaped.

"The way you people view species from other planets is terrible."

"I know, I know.” He laughed. “But that's what they had in the prize store.”

Chang'e took one of the key rings from his hand, looking at it carefully.

"Hm... He has three eyes. I only have two."

"Yes. And he seems friendly, unlike you who broke an arcade machine because you couldn't bear to lose."

She gave him a sharp look.

Haoyu raised his hands in surrender.

Chang'e just snorted, still holding the keychain. She ran her fingers through the soft plush, analyzing the stitched details before finally attaching it to the side of her clothes. The little green alien swayed slightly as she moved.

Haoyu observed the gesture with satisfaction before attaching his own keychain to his cell phone.

"Now we're on."

Chang'e looked at him for a second, then looked back at the keychain.

"Hm..."

Haoyu noticed that a small smile appeared on her face, discreet but present.

"Well, I suppose I'll take the gift."

"Good. Now just don't go crushing it accidentally, okay?"

She rolled her eyes, but didn't hold back a brief smile as she walked alongside him.

☆☆☆☆☆

Analysis Report - Discovery of Submerged Object

Date: |||||||||||||||||||||||

Location: River Thames, London, United Kingdom

Description of Object: A large object was identified submerged in the River Thames. The retrieval was successful and revealed a structure that does not immediately correspond to any known terrestrial airship model. The composition of the structure appears to be an unknown metal alloy, highly resistant to corrosion and impact.

Internal Analysis: After forcibly opening the external structure, the analysis team found the presence of internal compartments organized in a functional way, containing:

• Clothes made of yet unidentified fabrics, some apparently adapted for humanoid bodies.
• Tools that suggest an internal maintenance system, with ergonomic designs and unknown materials.
• Small electronic devices; still being analyzed.

Biological discovery: The most significant find occurred at the rear of the spacecraft, where a large compartment contained a hitherto unknown life form. The organism, about 1 meter and 38 centimeters long, has a morphology similar to that of an insect, with a resistant shell, articulated limbs and a complex cranial structure. Despite its apparent initial immobility, it has been reported that the entity emits intermittent low-frequency sounds, suggesting that it may be in a state of suspended animation or in an unknown biological cycle. When analyzed more intensively, deep wounds were found in various parts of the organism, but as there was only him on the ship, it is suspected that whatever injured him is now on the loose somewhere.

Next Steps:

• The ship has been relocated to a secure facility for in-depth studies.
• Samples of the structure and materials will be analyzed in the laboratory.
• The organism will be continuously monitored by biology and security teams.
• The origin of the object and its possible relationship with recent earthquakes will be investigated.

Conclusão: A presença desta nave espacial e do organismo dentro dela representa uma descoberta sem precedentes. A origem do objeto permanece incerta, mas sua natureza alienígena é uma possibilidade concreta. Recomenda-se sigilo máximo sobre a operação até que mais informações possam ser analisadas e verificadas.

Notas adicionadas: Poucos dias após a remoção da nave espacial, a equipe responsável foi contatada por um grupo de americanos interessados ​​na descoberta. Segundo o comandante da operação, eles disseram algo sobre serem do Setor 7.

Chapter Text

In the few months since Haoyu took in AR-17032, he was sure of three things:

1. She's a fan of history, 
2. She seemed enthusiastic about learning about Earth's cultures for some reason unknown to him.
3. She was a fast learner and the two of them finally seemed to start talking to each other properly.
4. After the first few weeks, he was fed up with having to say all those numbers in her name.

AR-17032. Every time he had to call her, it felt like he was talking to an android, not someone who, despite everything, was becoming increasingly curious, expressive and even stubborn. He tried just calling her “Seventeen” or “Thirty-two”, but she always frowned and corrected him, pointing to herself and repeating the whole code proudly.

Haoyu wasn't going to give up.

And now there he was, sitting on one of the studio's benches, flip phone in hand, researching different Chinese names that would suit her. He wanted something that sounded strong, but also had a certain elegance. Something that was easy to say and carried a meaning that suited her.

He looked at several options. “Mei” was pretty, but sounded too common. “Xue” referred to snow, but it didn't feel right. “Lian” meant lotus, but he doubted that she would like to be associated with a flower.

Then he came across Chang'e.

Haoyu was silent for a moment, his fingers stopping scrolling the screen.

Chang'e... the goddess of the moon. A figure from Chinese mythology, known for having drank an elixir of immortality and floated to the moon, where she remained forever, separated from the Earth and everyone she knew.

In a way, it made sense.

The woman who was living with him was not from this world. She had crossed space, trying to reach a place she never did, and now she was stuck here, alone, surrounded by a people and a culture that were not her own.

Haoyu gave a small smile.

Yes. That name would do.

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

When he returned home that evening, he found AR-17032 sitting in his chair, concentrating on something on the computer screen. The bluish glow reflected in her yellowish green eyes, making them even more intense than usual.

He dumped his bag in a corner and plopped down on the sofa next to her.

"Are you busy?"

She didn't answer straight away, but after a few seconds, she looked back at him.

"What?" The accent was still strong in her words.

Haoyu turned to face her directly.

"You need a real name, you know that?"

She frowned.

"I already have a name."

"AR-17032 is not a name." He gestured with his hands, emphasizing the phrase. "It's an identification code. You're not a machine, so let's work it out."

She narrowed her eyes, crossing her arms.

"And you want to give me a human name?"

"Hey, I spent a long time choosing one that suits you, so listen to me before you complain."

She didn't say anything, just raised an eyebrow, daring him to continue.

Haoyu took a deep breath and then said, with a small smile:

"Chang'e."

She blinked in surprise.

"Chang'e?"

"Yes. Like the moon goddess."

For a moment, she was silent, clearly pondering. Haoyu noticed the way she looked away, her expression becoming more distant.

"The moon goddess...?" she murmured.

"It's an old story,” he continued. "She drank an elixir of immortality and ended up on the moon, alone. Separated from everything and everyone."

Chang'e bit her lower lip thoughtfully.

She felt that way.

Lost, far from home, separated from everything she knew.

For some reason, that made the name seem less strange to her.

"Chang'e... " she repeated, testing how it sounded in her own voice.

Haoyu shrugged.

"But if you don't like it, we can think of another one."

She looked at him for a few seconds before letting out a long, heavy sigh.

"No..." she muttered. "That name... isn't too bad."

Haoyu smiled, pleased.

"Then it's official. You're Chang'e now."

She rolled her eyes.

"And I don't even get a say, do I?"

" Nope.” He got up and went into the kitchen. “Now, Chang'e, would you like something to eat?"

She sighed, but when he walked away, she muttered to herself:

"Chang'e…"

The name still seemed a little strange. But for the first time since arriving on Earth, she felt that something there really belonged to her.

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Chang'e leaned back on the sofa, letting out an exaggerated sigh. She had already walked from one side of the apartment to the other, rummaged through Haoyu's bookshelves and even reorganized some things that the blond had left in a mess out of sheer lack of things to do. But now, with nothing better to occupy her mind, she decided to go back to the computer.

It was frustrating. She couldn't go out freely, she couldn't interact with humans without Haoyu around to help her avoid complicated or embarrassing situations and, to make matters worse, the blond would still be a few hours away. This left her with only one option: to entertain herself again.

Fortunately for her, humanity had produced an absurd amount of information over the centuries. That was one of the few things Chang'e really admired about humans - they recorded everything. Every invention, every discovery, every major event in their history. Even if much of what she read was distorted or interpreted in different ways depending on the source, it was still fascinating to her, it helped her understand more about the world she was in. The more she read, she couldn't help wondering if it was like that in Divastea as well. Chang'e enjoyed learning about Earth and its people, but it made her feel heavy hearted to remember that there was no chance of her learning about her own people, their history outside of the war she had been thrown into since she had gained consciousness.

She had been immersed in this digital world for almost two hours, browsing through archives, old reports and scientific articles. At some point, she started reading about great archaeological discoveries on Earth, fascinated by the way humans unearthed secrets from the past and tried to retrace history through fossils and artifacts.

And then something caught her eye.

The article explained how researchers had found the body decades ago, buried under the ice for a time impossible to measure with the naked eye.

There was no photo of the iceman, only of the team that discovered him, but something within the text about that team made Chang'e pause.

A name.

Archibald Witwicky.

Her gaze narrowed.

She didn't know why, but that name caught her attention. As if there was something hidden behind it, something worth investigating.

With a new interest burning inside her, Chang'e opened a new browser tab and typed the name into the search bar.

When the page finally loaded, she was surprised.

There was nothing.

Or rather, almost nothing.

There were no biographical records, no academic articles, not even mentions on historical websites. Just a few obscure forums and the same article she had already read. It was as if the man had been erased from history, with only vague fragments of his existence remaining.

This intrigued her.

How could someone who had been involved in an important discovery simply disappear from the records? It was strange, but she remembered reading that humans preferred to erase certain moments and people from existence.

She kept scrolling, her eyes scanning each line in search of something useful. But as she scrolled down, her frustration grew. Nothing but loose passages and references without context.

Then, when he reached the bottom of the page, something caught her eye.

A link to Ebay.

Chang'e blinked.

Ebay?

She had seen Haoyu accessing this site a few times, but she had never been interested enough to ask what it really was. All she knew was that it was a platform where humans sold objects to each other, like a huge online marketplace.

What would a lost name from history have to do with a trading site?

Driven by curiosity, she clicked on the link. 

The page took a few seconds to load, and as soon as it appeared on the screen, Chang'e realized that it wasn't just a simple sale - it was an auction. The word still sounded strange to her. She had come across a few references to auctions in her readings - and they were never mentioned in a positive context - but she had never really looked into the concept. She looked at the time counter in the corner of the screen, marking the minutes and seconds remaining until the end of the auction.

There were several images attached to the ad. 

Chang'e clicked on the first one. The photo showed an old pair of glasses, with round lenses and worn metal frames. The temples were a little crooked, and there were scratches on the lenses. 

There was something about them that had a hold on her, something she couldn't explain. At first, she thought it was just a trivial interest - maybe they were just too old, an obsolete human object that somehow evoked nostalgia. But as she stared at the image, a nagging feeling grew inside her. 

There was something wrong there. 

Chang'e frowned and clicked on the image, trying to enlarge it. The resolution of the photo wasn't the best, but even so, her trained eyes were able to pick up the smallest details. 

The metal frame was ordinary, rusted by time, and the lenses had scratches that suggested years of use. Nothing unusual so far. 

She narrowed her eyes. 

There was something engraved on the surface of the lenses. 

Chang'e tilted her head, feeling her heart beat a little harder. At first, it seemed like a mere reflection, perhaps a distortion caused by the light at the moment of the photo. But as she squinted, the symbols seemed to reveal themselves. 

Symbols she knew. They weren't just scratches or the markings of time. They were inscriptions. And not just any inscriptions. It was the Cybertronian alphabet. She felt her breath catch for a moment. 

Cybertronian.

Chang'e blinked, feeling her mind spin. That didn't make sense. How could a pair of human glasses have symbols from that language? 

She knew those symbols. She remembered seeing them before, on the data pads that the bots sent to Divastea carried. Some of them read information stored on these devices, data that came straight from Cybertron. Although Chang'e couldn't read fluently, she recognized the unique pattern of the inscriptions.

But... how was that possible?

She enlarged the image again, trying to better identify the characters. The recordings seemed to have been thrown in there, almost as if they had been marked unintentionally.

Chang'e leaned back in her chair, feeling a strange mixture of excitement and nervousness. This man, who seemed almost forgotten in history, had come into contact with someone from Cybertron at some point in his life.

And that... was amazing!

If there was a physical record of this - something tangible that she could trace - then perhaps there was much more behind this story than just a simple mention in an old article.

Whatever happened to Archibald Witwicky, it was not an unimportant event.

And there was the proof.

Chang'e took a deep breath, looking away from the glasses for a moment. The ad still displayed the other items being sold, but she didn't care about any of that now.

The glasses were what mattered.

Driven by urgency, she scrolled down the page, looking for information on the price. 

200 US dollars. 

Chang'e frowned. 

She had learned enough about the human economic system to understand that this was an extremely high price for a simple pair of old glasses. 

The question was: was it worth it? 

She stared at the picture again, and the weight of that revelation fell on her once more. 

Yes. It was.

Chang'e pressed her lips together and made a decision.

She needed those glasses.

The question was: with what money would she buy them?

Chang'e pressed her lips together, her eyes fixed on the screen.

She might have learned about the human economy, about how its transactions worked, but that didn't change the crucial fact that she didn't have any money.

The only person who really made money in that apartment was Haoyu. He was the one who paid the rent, bought the food and dealt with all the expenses. Chang'e just lived there.

In a way, this had never been a problem before. When Haoyu took her in, there was no discussion about her needing to contribute financially. After all, how could she? She had no human documents, no work history, not even a real identity beyond the name he gave her. The tacit agreement between the two had always been simple: he worked, she learned.

And for a few months, that worked.

But now she wanted to buy something.

And for the first time, Chang'e was faced with a dilemma she had never considered before: asking Haoyu for money.

She moved her chair away from the table and wiped one of her hands across her face. The thought bothered her more than she would have liked to admit.

She didn't want to seem ungrateful.

Haoyu had already done so much for her - given her a home, patience and the opportunity to learn about the human world without being rushed or overcharged. He never asked for anything in return. Asking for money now, without a reason that made sense to him, seemed wrong to her.

She got up and started walking around the apartment, arms crossed, trying to decide how she was going to do this.

Haoyu wasn't the type to be difficult to convince, but he wasn't someone who threw money away for no good reason either.

All right, she could just tell the truth.

She could tell him that those glasses belonged to someone who had somehow come into contact with something or someone from another planet. That they had some alien inscriptions on them. 

But she was hesitating.

Not because she didn't think Haoyu would believe her. After the time they had lived together, he knew she wasn't from this planet. He knew that her story was full of holes and secrets that she wouldn't reveal easily.

But what if he thought it wasn't worth it? That it was just a whim of hers?

Chang'e sighed.

She needed to think of the best way to explain. She needed to show Haoyu that this wasn't just a passing curiosity. 

Then the sound of the door opening interrupted her thoughts.

Haoyu entered the apartment, closing the door behind him with a heavy sigh. He threw his bag on the sofa and ran his hand through his messy blond hair. The faint smell of coffee and studio perfume still hung around him, mixed with a faint scent of hair product.

Chang'e forced herself to look relaxed as he kicked his shoes away.

"You look like you've run a marathon."

Haoyu snorted. "I wish that was all."

He gave her a closer look, frowning slightly.

"But what about you? You look strange. Did something happen?"

Chang'e felt her chest tighten. She opened her mouth, but hesitated. If she said she wanted to talk about something, he would insist until she told him. If she spoke directly about the glasses, he would ask why and for what.

So instead, she forced a small smile.

"It's nothing."

Haoyu narrowed his eyes at her, clearly suspicious.

"Nothing is a suspicious answer, you know."

Chang'e shrugged. " If it was something important, I'd  tell you."

He continued to stare at her for a few more seconds, but eventually let out a tired sigh.

"Okay, you know best."

She seized the moment to change the subject.

"How was your day?"

Haoyu threw his body onto the sofa, leaning his head back.

"Normal. Apart from the fact that I got a new job offer. They want me to model for an American brand."

She winked.

"That seems good, doesn't it?"

"It is. But I don't like that country very much."

Chang'e raised an eyebrow.

"You pretty much dislike everything that isn't Chinese or Korean."

"That's a lie." He pointed at her. "You're neither Chinese nor Korean, and I like you."

Chang'e rolled her eyes, but couldn't help a small smile.

"But then, why don't you like the United States?"

Haoyu sighed. "I don't know, I don't like the country. And that's not even the problem... I'd have to live there for a few months."

Chang'e remained silent, absorbing the information.

Haoyu could leave for months.

If he left, she would lose her greatest support. The only person in the world who knew her true story.

She had no friends. She had no connections. Haoyu was her bridge to this world. Without him, she would be alone again.

Chang'e shifted uncomfortably in her chair.

"Are you... thinking about accepting?"

Haoyu sighed and wiped his hand across his face.

"I don't know. It sounds like a good job. But…"

He stopped. For a moment, his gaze wandered around the apartment, before falling on her again.

"But I'd have to leave a lot behind."

The silence between them lengthened.

Chang'e knew that Haoyu was thinking about her. He wouldn't say it out loud, but it was clear. She was part of what he called a lot.

And she didn't know how to feel about that.

Haoyu had always seemed independent, someone who made his own decisions without worrying too much about what others thought. But now he was hesitating because of her.

And, in a way, that made the idea of asking for money for glasses seem even more difficult. How could she ask for something so selfish when he was there, considering changing his whole life for her?

Chang'e took a deep breath, trying to ignore the storm of thoughts inside her head. She looked at Haoyu and forced a smile.

"Well, you have time to think."

He nodded, resting his head on the back of the sofa and closing his eyes for a moment. Tiredness was evident on his face.

Chang'e hesitated for a moment, but decided there was no point in waiting any longer. “Haoyu...” she began, her voice uncertain.

“Hm?” He looked at her out of the corner of his eye.

She took a deep breath. “I wanted to ask you a favor. I found something online... a pair of old glasses. They belonged to an old American human called Archibald Witwicky, and I think they might hold an important clue for me. Perhaps it could help me get off this planet.”

Haoyu blinked a few times, processing what she was saying. “And where do the glasses come into all this?”

“They have cybertronian symbols engraved on the lenses,” she explained. “I'm sure this man had contact with Cybertron in some way. What if these glasses lead to a bigger clue?”

Haoyu scratched his head thoughtfully. “And how much do they cost?”

Chang'e bit his lip. “Two hundred dollars.”

He let out a low whistle. “It's not cheap.”

“I know,” she admitted with a sigh. “I know it's a lot, and then there's the cost of shipping... It would probably be even more expensive.”

Haoyu didn't reply immediately. He leaned back in his chair, 

drumming his fingers on his thigh thoughtfully. His dark eyes slid from Chang'e to the computer screen, where the auction page was still open. The glasses looked ordinary, but he knew that, for Chang'e, none of this was simple.

He let out a long sigh and rubbed his face with his hands. “Maybe... we can take advantage of my trip to the United States to see more about these glasses. If you want, of course.”

Chang'e raised her head, blinking in surprise. “Are you... serious?”

Haoyu shrugged, looking away. “I haven't decided if I'm going to accept the job offer, but if I do, we can use this as an opportunity.” He pointed at the screen. “Perhaps it would be easier to meet this LadiesMan127 in person and buy the glasses directly, without having to rely on an online auction.”

Chang'e blinked, confused, before finally realizing the seller's name. Her face contorted into an expression of disgust. “LadiesMan127? Is that serious?”

Haoyu laughed, leaning over to rest an arm on the table. “That name sounds very virgin, doesn't it? But that also means he's probably not a collector. Maybe he doesn't want to sell to the highest bidder, as long as the money is in hand.”

Haoyu ran a hand through his hair, letting out a sigh. “Listen, I need some time to think everything through. If I decide to go to the United States, we can see how we can make it work. But there's a bigger problem: how are you going to travel without papers?”

Chang'e opened her mouth, but then closed it. She had never thought about it. Since arriving on Earth, she had never needed identification or anything like that. But traveling to another country? That was another story.

Haoyu noticed her expression and shook his head. “Yeah, it's not going to be that simple. But give me a few days to think about it and we'll find a solution. If these glasses are that important to you, we'll find a way.”

Chang'e nodded slowly, pressing her lips together. Waiting had never been her strongest suit, but there was no other choice. At least Haoyu didn't refuse right away. That was already a good sign.

Chapter Text

Havia uma tensão pairando no ar do Centro de Pesquisa.

No centro de uma sala iluminada por luzes frias, uma criatura desconhecida e de aparência grotesca estava deitada sobre uma mesa de metal, cercada por equipamentos usados ​​para captar seus sinais fracos.

A coisa parecia algo saído diretamente de uma história de terror científica. Seu corpo era enorme, cobrindo uma grande área da mesa onde estava, com um exoesqueleto escuro e endurecido cuja superfície parecia uma mistura de quitina e ferro. Rachaduras sutis corriam ao longo de sua carapaça, brilhando fracamente com um tom âmbar sempre que seus músculos esqueléticos contraíam espasmos involuntários. 

Sua cabeça era pequena e assimétrica, com uma estrutura que lembrava uma fusão grotesca entre um besouro e um crustáceo fossilizado. Onde você esperaria olhos, havia quatro cavidades profundas e opacas, mas dentro delas você podia ver pequenos flashes avermelhados, como se algo estivesse pulsando lá dentro.

Abaixo da cabeça, a criatura tinha um conjunto de mandíbulas duplas irregulares cheias de presas serrilhadas. A cada leve movimento de sua mandíbula, um fio de líquido escuro e viscoso escorria por sua pele machucada.

O corpo da criatura estava coberto de placas que pareciam danificadas, com rachaduras profundas expondo camadas internas de tecido fibroso.

Tinha seis membros, todos desproporcionais em comparação ao tamanho do corpo, mas pareciam resistentes.

Os dois membros principais eram os mais desenvolvidos, cada junta dobrada de uma forma estranha, como se não fossem projetados para manipular objetos precisamente, mas sim para rasgar e furar. As pontas das “pernas” eram cobertas por estruturas semelhantes a ganchos, adaptadas para se prenderem a superfícies de diferentes texturas.

Também havia restos de algo em suas costas, talvez uma estrutura que antes servia como asas ou algum tipo de membrana retraída, agora completamente danificada.

Do outro lado do vidro reforçado que separava a área de contenção, cientistas e agentes do governo britânico murmuravam em discussões acaloradas. A Dra. Evelyn Carter, uma mulher de feições sérias e marcantes, mantinha os braços cruzados enquanto ouvia atentamente os relatos de sua equipe, mantendo os olhos fixos na criatura.

O Dr. Patel, um biólogo de ascendência indiana com um sotaque sutilmente cadenciado, digitava freneticamente em seu caderno enquanto resumia as análises que havia feito até então.

“A criatura está viva. Seus sinais vitais são fracos, mas consistentes. Seja lá o que for... não é daqui.

“Isso já estava claro, Dr. Patel,” respondeu Carter impacientemente. “A questão é: o que fazemos com isso agora?”

Antes que ela pudesse obter uma resposta do colega, as portas da sala de observação se abriram com um estrondo seco, interrompendo qualquer debate.

Cinco homens vestidos de preto caminharam pela entrada com passos firmes e determinados, seus olhares examinando a sala com avaliação meticulosa. Eles não pertenciam à equipe de Carter.

The leader of the group, a tall man with gray hair and an impenetrable expression, held up a credential and only flashed it for a brief second. The seal of the United States government was stamped on the document, but no insignia, name or any other information that could identify them.

His accent gave away his origin. American.

“From now on, this operation is under our jurisdiction.”

Carter frowned, his voice laden with skepticism.

“Who the bloody hell are you?”

The agent put away his credential and maintained the same firm, imperturbable tone.

“That's none of your business.”

Patel exchanged a confused look with the other scientists. He opened his mouth to protest, but hesitated. The men's presence was intimidating, and the way they spoke left no room for negotiation.

A second agent, a robust man with hard features and an equally American accent, stepped forward. His gaze fell on the creature in the center of the room, and he spoke with a mixture of caution and recognition.

“We've dealt with this kind of thing before. Whatever you think you've discovered, you have no idea what you're really dealing with.”

Carter narrowed his eyes.

“You're not MI6. You're not from the British government. So who exactly sent you?”

The group leader just smiled enigmatically.

“You can call us Sector 7.”

The name meant nothing to any of those present. Patel frowned.

“I've never heard of it.”

“And I hope it stays that way.” The American gestured to the other agents, who began to walk around the room, looking at equipment and collecting data without asking permission. “Gather all the documentation and reports made so far. The creature will be transferred.”

The scientists' indignation was instantaneous.

“What?” Carter took a step forward, his frustration evident. “You think you can just walk in here and take possession of our discovery? This happened on British soil.”

The burly agent sighed, looking at her as if explaining something obvious to a child.

“Your government sold this ‘project’ to the USA. Believe me, Doctor, you don't want that around.”

“That's not for you to decide!” Patel retorted. “The creature is alive. We need to analyze it here.”

The American tilted his head sideways.

“So tell me, Doctor... Do you know how to contain it if it becomes dangerous?”

The silence that followed was enough to give him his answer.

“That's what I thought.”

The British team looked at each other, clearly irritated, but with no arguments to offer. They knew they were dealing with something far beyond any previous discovery. But before Carter could insist on arguing, the alarm went off.

One of the scientists checked the monitors and paled.

“The creature's vital signs... they're increasing!”

All eyes turned to the other side of the glass. The creature, which until then had been inert, moved one of its limbs with a grotesque snap, its dark eyes flickering with a faint glow.

For a moment, the entire laboratory was silent.

And then, the creature emitted a sound.

It wasn't a roar or a grunt. It was something deeper, more articulate.

And even more frightening... it sounded like it was trying to communicate with something.

The Americans acted immediately.

“Find a way to keep it in that room. Now!”

The British scientists looked at each other hesitantly, but the men from Sector 7 were already taking control.

The leader turned to Carter and muttered, seriously:

“Now do you understand why this thing doesn't belong to you?”

The creature opened its eyes fully.

It began to stare at all of them. 

And in that instant, everything changed.

 ☆☆☆☆☆

“...the authorities have not yet released details of the incident that took place at the British Research Institute, but local sources report that several staff have been hospitalized following what is being described as a 'serious and unexplained event'. The institution has not confirmed the nature of the accident, but witnesses claim to have seen heavily armed security teams leaving the building in the early hours of the morning. We are still waiting for more information on this mysterious incident. And now, on to the weather forecast...”

Haoyu frowned.

“Research Institute?” he muttered to himself. Something about that news was bothering him. The fact that there was no concrete explanation, that everything was being covered up with vague words, only made the whole thing more suspicious. He looked away from the TV and leaned back in his chair, drumming his fingers on the armrest.

For a brief moment, he considered looking up what had happened on his cell phone. But what would be the point? If it was something really serious, it certainly wouldn't be available in a simple search. Instead, his mind turned to another concern: Chang'e.

Haoyu reflected on how quickly everything had happened. It had been almost two weeks since they had gone to the arcade. He had accepted the offer to model in the United States and, to his surprise, the agency had already sorted out practically everything for him. In a matter of days, they had found a house for him to stay in during his stay, a temporary place, but comfortable enough. He imagined he would be staying in a small apartment or even a hotel, but it was a spacious house that was offered to him - more than he expected to need.

He didn't complain. After all, now it wouldn't just be him.

Chang'e hadn't hesitated for a second when he mentioned the move. In fact, her excitement had been so immediate that he hadn't even had a chance to suggest that she think it over. The only thing she asked for was the address of where they would be staying, nonchalantly patting him on the back as Haoyu tried to ask what exactly she had in mind.

Obviously, she didn't answer.

He wondered for a moment if he should have tried to help more. He could have contacted his parents, seen if they had any connections that could provide false documents for her... but the thought of having any kind of conversation with his family at the moment left a bitter taste in his mouth. No, he didn't want to ask them for favors. Still, the thought bothered him. Chang'e was sorting everything out for herself, as she always did.

Now, sitting in the airport, Haoyu snorted softly, remembering the scene. Even so, it didn't stop the worry from growing inside him. It was all a big leap into the unknown. For both of them.

Haoyu let out a sigh and picked up his cell phone. He had given Chang'e an old phone of his, just so they could keep in touch if necessary. He hadn't expected her to use it often, but now was a good time to test if she could at least answer. He dialed the number and held the phone to his ear, waiting.

The call tone sounded a few times before finally being answered.

“Haoyu?” Chang'e's voice came muffled from the other end of the line, accompanied by a strange noise.

“Hey, where are you?” he asked, frowning. There was a constant sound of a strong wind, as if she was outside in a storm or something.

“Ah... I decided to walk around a bit,” she replied casually. “Why?”

“Because it feels like you're 'walking' inside a hurricane.” Haoyu narrowed his eyes. “What are you up to?”

“Hm? Nothing much.” Her tone was nonchalant, but he knew her well enough to know when she was hiding something.

“Chang'e...” he began, suspiciously.

“Hey, relax. I'm fine.” She laughed, but the sound of the wind only increased. “I was just distracted and didn't realize what time it was. Are you ready for your flight?”

Haoyu couldn't believe that it was just a “distraction”. But before he could press her further, he heard the voice of the airport's PA system calling his flight.

“Shit. I've got to go,” he said, picking up his backpack and standing up. “But I swear I'll find out what you're doing.”

“See ‘ya later, Haoyu,” she replied, amused. And then the call ended.

Haoyu stared at his cell phone for a few seconds, before sighing and stuffing it into his pocket. The wind... What the hell was she doing? He didn't like the feeling that she was hiding something. But at the same time, it was no surprise.

He picked up his backpack and headed for the boarding gate.

Once on the plane, Haoyu threw his backpack into the compartment and settled into the seat next to the window. Twelve hours of travel. He let out a heavy sigh and leaned his head back, looking out at the airport lights.

He thought of his parents. Once again.

He could have asked them for help. They could get false documents, put everything in order, and Chang'e would have a new, secure identity. But to do that, he'd have to talk to them. And that was the problem.

Haoyu loved his parents. Of course he did. But that didn't mean he wanted to deal with them now.

He was the only boy in a family with quadruplets. The firstborn, the heir to a lineage full of women. From birth, he was pampered, babied, treated like something precious and rare. His parents never hid their pride in him, but at the same time they always suffocated him with affection. They looked after him as if he were still five years old, and honestly, it was just too much. Haoyu knew that if he called now, he would have to deal with questions, worries and, worst of all, that excessive affection that made his independence feel like an illusion.

He closed his eyes and pressed his fingers against his temples. No. He could sort it out himself. Chang'e was going to find a way to get to the United States. And he wasn't going to turn to his parents.

When the plane finally started moving, Haoyu let out a long sigh and sank into his seat. Twelve hours of travel. Twelve hours to try and forget that this doubt was still there, firm and strong.

He remembered a specific situation, years ago, when he was a child.

He must have been about eight years old when he hurt himself badly for the first time. It was no big deal - just a silly fall while playing in the yard. A deep scrape on his knee, a little blood trickling down, nothing that a clean-up and a bandage couldn't fix. But his mother panicked. She practically carried him into the house, calling the family doctor as if he were on the verge of death.

“My baby's hurt!” He remembered her alarmed voice. “Does he need stitches? An x-ray? What if it's something internal?”

His father tried to calm her down, but to no avail. In the end, Haoyu was dragged to hospital, even though he protested that he was fine. He remembered his embarrassment when the doctor looked at his wound and said it was just a scratch. He remembered his sisters laughing at him when they got home, imitating their mother's overreaction. “Oh, no! Haoyu tripped! Quick, call an ambulance!”

The worst thing was that it never stopped. To this day, his parents treat any problem he has as a catastrophe. And he hated it.

Haoyu opened his eyes, staring at the seat in front of him. He didn't want to repeat that feeling of helplessness. This time, he wanted to sort things out on his own. Without help. Without being treated like a fragile little boy.

He just needed to figure out how to do it.

☆☆☆☆☆

Chang’e hung up the communicator with a short sigh, feeling the subtle vibration of the ended call. It wasn’t hard to tell that Haoyu was suspicious of her. The sound of the wind, the slight crackling of the armor responding to flight commands, all of this had given away her true situation. But what could she do? Tell him that she was illegally crossing the ocean at high altitude, just to surprise him? No way. She would rather see him startled when she arrived at their temporary home, waiting for him as if she had taken a simple plane like any other citizen. 

Adjusting her position in the air, Chang’e reduced the thrusters’ power, feeling the wind resistance against her body as she slowed down. It was tempting to just activate the maximum thrust system and cut through the sky like a bolt of lightning, but she didn’t want to draw unnecessary attention. Even so, no matter how cautious she tried to be, she couldn’t help the smile that formed on her face. 

Flying was a unique kind of freedom, one she had always known her body was capable of achieving, but rarely had the opportunity to experience in this way. The landscape below her was pure vastness, a vast dark blue carpet dotted with white spots from the waves crashing against each other. The ocean seemed to stretch on forever, without barriers, without limits. And for a brief moment, Chang’e allowed herself to enjoy it, ignoring any future worries.

It was then that a soft beep sounded inside her helmet. Her locator beeping began to indicate that she was close to dry land. It was a reminder for her to start reducing her altitude, something she had no problem doing. However, something else made her hesitate for a moment.

Satellites. Radars. Air monitoring systems.

Chang’e had spent so much time focused on her own crossing that she didn’t even stop to think that she might be detected. Any agency with advanced sensors could pick up her thermal signature, even if she was far from conventional airspace.

She let out a low groan of frustration, already imagining the scolding Haoyu would give her if he found out she had made such a basic mistake. But now was not the time to worry about that. She was already too close to turn back. The only thing she could do was continue her trajectory and hope no one was paying too much attention. 

Taking a deep breath, she adjusted the visor on her helmet and began to tilt her body, beginning a controlled descent. The distant city on the horizon grew larger and larger as she got closer, and with it, the promise of new, unknown territory. 

Chang'e landed in a more secluded spot, where no one would be able to see her. The sky was dark, with few lights in the area where she landed, and the cold night wind made her clothes flap slightly. The locator on her armor indicated that she was close to the address Haoyu had given her. Taking a deep breath, she deactivated the armor, which retracted and disappeared into her Key. Still holding the object in her hands, she began walking toward the house. 

The air here was different, and Chang’e noticed it the moment she took a deep breath. The smell was less humid than in London, less heavy with the weight of the frequent rain. The wind, even in the late afternoon, did not have that sharp freshness characteristic of the English capital. Everything here seemed wider, more spread out, as if the country itself were built on a larger scale. The streets were wide, the houses had spacious yards, and even the street signs seemed garish, with bright colors and huge letters. 

She walked to the address Haoyu had given her, passing through quiet streets with few people outside. Unlike the crowded urban center of London, here the houses were organized with precision, as if they followed a mandatory pattern. Nearly identical doors, well-trimmed gardens, a few colorful mailboxes, and spacious balconies. Chang’e felt a slight uneasiness—there was something strange about such a perfectly organized neighborhood. Maybe it was just the difference in culture, but she was already starting to wonder if this place had been a good choice. 

Chang’e didn’t know how long she had been walking until she found the house. It was a simple but spacious two-story house. The problem was that she didn’t have a key. Haoyu had said he wouldn’t be back until the next day, and Chang’e didn’t want to get into trouble by trying to break into the house. Luckily, after searching for a while, she found a key hidden under a small vase near the door. 

“Humans really are a bit predictable,” she thought with a slight smile before unlocking the door and entering. 

The inside of the house was cozy and already furnished. There were sofas, a television, and a few pieces of furniture scattered around the living room. The smell of wood and a faint perfume in the air indicated that perhaps the previous owner had cleaned the place before leaving.

Chang’e walked to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, surprised to see that there was food there. She didn’t know who had provided this—maybe the previous owner—but at least she wouldn’t have to worry about it for a while. Even though she wasn’t hungry, she grabbed a bottle of water and took a few sips before continuing to explore the house. 

She walked up the stairs, taking in every detail of the place. She didn’t want to stay in the first room she saw—she wanted a space that truly felt like hers. After opening a few doors, she found the perfect room. It was a medium-sized room with a comfortable, large bed, a closet, and a window overlooking the street. Chang’e threw her backpack on the floor and sat down on the bed, feeling the mattress dip slightly under her weight. 

Chang’e turned the metal key between her fingers, feeling the familiar weight of the object against her palm. The words engraved around the symbol of the Republic of Divastea seemed deeper than ever, as if they had been carved not only into the surface of the metal, but into her very being. 

"For the Empress, for the Empire. Born to fight, live to serve. Until our bodies turn to ash, until the last blow." 

She had read that inscription countless times throughout her life. When she was “younger,” those words had filled her with a sense of absolute purpose. They were a reminder of her reason for being, an unquestionable oath that echoed through every soldier of the Iron Cavalry. There was no doubt, no choice, only the mission. 

But now… now everything seemed different. 

Chang'e let out a sigh and ran her thumb over the rough surface of the key, noticing that small rust marks were already starting to form on the corners. It wasn't just the key. She was wearing out too. Her armor was wearing down. Time was passing in a way she had never considered before. 

She flopped back against the soft mattress, holding the key above her, studying it in the dim light of the room. Her golden eyes flashed for a moment, reflecting the inscription as if seeking new meaning within it.

"Born to fight, live to serve."

These words had once given her strength. They had made her feel part of something greater. But now? What did they mean to her, now that there was no empire to serve, no empress to protect? Now that she was here, in an unfamiliar room, thousands of miles away from anything that resembled her old life?

Chang'e slowly lowered her arm and pressed the key to her chest.

It didn't matter now.

Whatever this "future" that Haoyu talked about so much, she still didn't know if it had room in it. But for now, she just had to keep moving forward. One step at a time.

She closed her eyes, feeling exhaustion finally catch up with her.

Chang'e didn't need to sleep. Her body didn't require that kind of rest, but her mind...that was another matter. Ever since she had arrived on this planet, ever since she had lost everything, her mind had never truly rested. 

The weight of her own questions, the emptiness left by the absence of orders, the silence where there had once been only the sound of battle—all of it wore on her in a way she didn’t know how to resolve.

So, even though she didn’t need to, she gave in to the weariness and let her thoughts fade away.

She knew she wouldn’t dream.

After all, the Iron Cavalry was born without the ability to dream.

And in a way, maybe it was better that way.

☆☆☆☆☆

After a long twelve-hour flight and a tedious layover in another state, Haoyu finally stepped foot in the airport of his final destination. Exhaustion weighed on his shoulders like an anchor. His body ached from being stuck in an uncomfortable seat for so long, and his eyes burned, demanding rest. But most of all, he felt a deep relief at having finally arrived. 

The airport was just as busy as before, with constant announcements blaring from the loudspeakers and crowds of travelers rushing in every direction. Haoyu, however, moved at a slower pace, feeling as if he were dragging himself through the lobby. He could no longer stand the artificial light and the heavy atmosphere of the airport, longing for fresh air and a quieter space. 

Arriving at the baggage claim area, he leaned against a pillar and let out a long sigh. His eyes roamed mechanically along the conveyor belt, searching for his suitcase. As he waited, he took his cell phone out of his pocket and turned it on for the first time since boarding. The screen flickered, indicating the lack of notifications. No messages from Chang’e. No updates.

Haoyu frowned. He knew his friend wasn’t the type to send constant messages, but considering the strangeness of their last call, he expected at least some kind of contact. He still remembered the sound of the strong wind whistling in the background when she answered. Chang’e spoke too casually, which only reinforced the feeling that she was hiding something.

“Where the hell are you now?” he muttered to himself, feeling an uneasiness growing in his chest.

It was only when he saw his suitcase approaching on the conveyor belt that he pushed his thoughts aside and hurried to grab it. As soon as he pulled it out, he placed it on the floor and grabbed the handle, ready to leave. But, before taking the first step, he picked up his cell phone again and scrolled to Chang’e’s contact.

Even without knowing if his concern was exaggerated, he decided to call.

The phone rang a few times before it was finally answered.

“Have you finally arrived?” Chang’e’s voice rang from the phone, as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

Haoyu let out a sigh, feeling a subtle relief, but the discomfort was still there.

“Yeah, I just picked up my bag.”

In the background of the call, he noticed a slight hiss, a muffled sound that he couldn’t quite identify. Different from the wind last time, but still… strange.

“What about you? Is everything okay there?”

“Yeah, everything’s great,” she replied, without hesitation, but with that slight nonchalance that made him even more suspicious.

Haoyu pursed his lips. He knew Chang’e. When she wanted to, she could speak in a way that gave absolutely nothing away. What irritated him the most was that, even if he tried to make conversation, she would probably dodge it.

He forced himself to take a deep breath and relax his shoulders. Maybe he was too tired and was just looking for a reason to worry.

“Okay. Just tell me you didn’t get into trouble while I was traveling.”

Chang’e let out a small nasal laugh.

“Me? Trouble? Haoyu, how ugly to think that of me.”

“Chang’e…”

“Oh, come on.” He could practically see her rolling her eyes. “You always worry too much. Just get a taxi and go home.”

“Okay, okay,” He said finally, massaging his forehead. “I’m going.”

“Good.”

And before he could say anything else, she hung up.

Haoyu stood there for a moment, staring at the blank screen of his phone.

“This girl…”

He let out a heavy sigh, put the phone in his pocket, and started walking toward the taxi area. He didn’t know exactly what Chang’e was up to, but one thing was for sure: when he got home, he wasn’t going to let this story go by without an answer.

The taxi ride was uneventful, at least for the most part. The driver, noticing Haoyu’s accent and tired expression, quickly assumed he was a tourist and tried to make conversation. 

“First time in the city?” he asked, looking at him through the rearview mirror. Haoyu, who had been watching the landscape pass by the window, blinked a few times before answering.

 “Ah... Yes. First time.” 

“Well, well. You’ll like it here. A little different from Europe, don’t you think?” 

The young man took a deep breath, leaning his arm against the window. Different was an understatement. Even looking out the window, he could already feel the change in the environment, from the architecture to the very energy of the place. It was less familiar, but at the same time, it didn’t make him feel as out of place as he expected. 

“Yeah... quite.” The taxi driver let out a brief laugh. 

“It takes a while to get used to it. But there are good things. Great places to eat, cool parks, and, if you want, even some good game rooms.” Haoyu arched an eyebrow, remembering his last outing with Chang’e. 

“Really?” 

“Yes, yes. Some classics and some more modern ones. Are you traveling alone?” 

“Unfortunately.” he replied, looking away.

The driver seemed to get the hint and didn't insist much after that. The rest of the drive was filled with comfortable silence, interrupted only by the low music on the radio and the sounds of the city around them.

When they finally arrived at the address, Haoyu picked up his suitcase, paid the fare, and thanked them before heading towards the house.

The house was modest, with a simple facade and a small backyard. The neighborhood seemed quiet, with not much movement at that time. Haoyu looked around for a moment before approaching the door, adjusting the strap of the suitcase on his shoulder.

It was then that he noticed something strange.

The lights were on.

Haoyu stopped in his tracks, frowning.

He was sure that no one should have been there before him. The house had been empty when they rented it, and there was no reason for any lights to be on.

His fingers tightened on the cell phone in his pocket. He stared at the door for a few seconds, feeling a slight tension forming in his chest.

His heart beat a little faster, and he slowly walked up the steps to the door. He hesitated before turning the handle. It was unlocked. Haoyu frowned even more. He pushed the door open slowly, smelling the faint scent of food in the air. This only made him more suspicious. Someone was definitely inside. Tensing his body, he walked in, his eyes quickly adjusting to the lighting inside. He set his suitcase down by the door, his senses heightened for any movement or sound.

“...Is anyone here?”

The silence in the house was interrupted only by an unexpected sound.

The roars of dinosaurs.

Haoyu frowned even more when he realized that the television was on, broadcasting Jurassic Park. The iconic soundtrack and the sound of dinosaurs echoed through the empty room, giving an even stranger tone to the scene.

The lights being on were already suspicious, but now... This was really weird.

With one foot back, he took a few more steps inside, his gaze sweeping the room. The environment seemed normal at first glance—there were no signs of a break-in, no broken doors, nothing out of place other than the obvious fact that someone had clearly been there before him.

Worse.

It still was.

Tension rose up his spine. He swallowed hard and, almost without thinking, his gaze fell on a nearby bookshelf. His fingers closed around a medium-sized ceramic vase.

It wasn't the best weapon in the world, but it was better than nothing.

Holding it tightly, he continued to advance through the house with light, cautious steps, his heart beating a little faster. The sofa was in disarray, as if someone had just plopped down on it. There was a forgotten glass of water on the coffee table, and an empty plate sat beside it. Haoyu narrowed his eyes. 

Not only was someone there... but they were comfortable. 

His grip on the vase tightened as he advanced, every muscle in his body tense, prepared for whatever was about to happen. He just hoped he wouldn't have to throw ceramics at anyone. 

The silence was broken by a subtle noise behind him. Not just any sound. The kind of sound that made every instinct scream in alarm. 

A breath, a movement too slight, the weight of a gaze on his back. 

Someone was there. Haoyu's body reacted before his mind could process it. 

His fingers released, and the vase flew through the air in a precise arc, aiming directly at the silhouette that was beginning to emerge behind him.

CRACK!

The impact was dull.

The ceramic shattered on contact, scattering fragments across the floor.

Haoyu took a step back, ready to continue the attack if necessary, until his eyes finally processed who was there.

“Chang’e?”

His voice came out somewhere between confusion and shock, as if his brain was struggling to connect the dots.

His friend was there, standing in front of him, her arms slightly raised in reflex, her eyes wide with pure surprise. She blinked a few times, reaching for the spot where the vase had hit—her shoulder—but to Haoyu’s astonishment, she looked… fine.

She wasn’t bleeding. She didn’t seem really hurt. Just a little surprised.

"Did you just throw a vase at me?" The indignation in her voice broke Haoyu's initial shock, but not his relief or confusion. 

"You just appeared behind me out of nowhere! What did you expect me to do?! Clap hands?" He practically shouted, his heart still racing. 

Chang'e looked at the shards on the floor and then back at him. "At least it wasn't a pretty vase you broke." 

"Chang'e!" Haoyu ran his hand over his face, trying to reorganize his thoughts.  "What the hell are you doing here?! How did you get here before me?!" 

The girl looked away, clearly hiding something. "Uhhh… alternative means?" 

Haoyu felt a mix of exasperation and concern taking over him. He wanted to ask, wanted to press, but in that moment, the relief of seeing her there, whole, overcame him. He let out a long sigh, closing his eyes for a moment. 

"I could have hurt you, you know?" Chang’e chuckled softly. 

“It could have, but it didn’t hurt.” 

Haoyu frowned, still trying to compose himself. “What—what do you mean?” 

“My skin isn’t as fragile as yours,” she explained, as if it were obvious. “So relax. But seriously, good aim.” 

Haoyu opened his mouth to say something, but stopped halfway. Of course. Of course Chang’e wasn’t normal. 

But at that moment, all he could think about was that his friend was there.

 And that he still didn’t know whether he wanted to hug her or throw another vase at her.

Chang'e noticed the tension on his face and sighed softly.

“Right, I'll be right back. I'll go and get a broom to clean it up,” she said, escaping before he could say anything else.

Haoyu stood in the middle of the room, rubbing his face with his hands. He felt the weight of travel fatigue on his shoulders, the exhaustion of the move, and now this-Chang'e appearing like a ghost, with no explanation, no passport, no logic whatsoever. He let his arms fall by his sides and looked at the television, which was still on.

The sound of roaring dinosaurs filled the room, as if mocking his confusion. He wondered if Chang'e was really watching it or if she'd just left it on by accident.

The sound of footsteps brought his attention back, and he looked towards the kitchen door when Chang'e reappeared with a broom and a makeshift dustpan. She calmly bent down and began to pick up the pieces of the broken vase, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

Haoyu crossed his arms. “So... are you going to tell me how the hell you got here or do I have to rip it out of you?”

Chang'e didn't look at him immediately. He picked up one of the larger pieces and carefully placed it on the shovel. “You're not going to like the answer.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Try it anyway.”

She sighed, finished putting the pieces together and only then looked at him. “I flew.”

Haoyu blinked. “You... what?”

She shrugged. “I put on my armor and flew here.”

For a moment, he didn't say anything. He just stared at her, trying to decide if it was a bad joke. Then he laughed in disbelief.

“You're making fun of me, aren't you?”

She crossed her arms. “Do you think I'd have any other way of getting here without papers?”

Haoyu ran a hand through his hair, laughing humorlessly. “Chang'e, for God's sake. You flew from England to the United States? Do you realize how many ways that could have gone wrong?”

She tilted her head. “Well, I made it, so I guess it didn't go wrong.”

He exhaled heavily. “Chang'e, satellites. Radars. Aerial security. You know, the military? How come nobody caught you?”

She grimaced. “Look, I didn't think much of it at the time, okay? But apparently, it all worked out.”

Haoyu looked at her in disbelief. “That's absolutely insane.”

“Possibly.” Chang'e smiled sideways. “But it worked.”

Haoyu rubbed his face again. “I really don't know whether to strangle you or congratulate you.”

She giggled. “Well, considering you've already hit me with a vase, I think the second option would be better.”

He sighed again, defeated. “You need to stop doing these things.”

“But what fun would that be?”

Haoyu shook his head, sitting down heavily on the sofa. “I need to sleep before I deal with this.”

Chang'e put down her broom and patted him on the shoulder. “Welcome to your new home.”

Haoyu let out a tired laugh. “I'm already regretting it.”

“Before you go to sleep,” she began, her carefree tone contrasting with his exhaustion.

Haoyu opened one eye, suspicious. “What now?”

She smiled as if she had just remembered a trivial detail. “I got bored while you weren't here and decided to buy those glasses.”

He blinked slowly. “What glasses?”

Chang'e rolled her eyes. “The ones I showed you on eBay, with the cybertronian inscriptions. I thought they'd be useful.”

Haoyu was silent for a moment, trying to process the information. “You- Wait. How did you buy this without an identity?”

“Simple,” she replied, leaning forward slightly, as if she were telling a secret. “I contacted the seller and asked if I could pay in person.”

Haoyu frowned, straightening up a little. “You're going to meet a stranger in person to pick up old cybertronian glasses that might be fake?”

She shrugged. “Yes.”

He rubbed his temple. “What if it's a scam?”

“It doesn't seem to be.”

“That's no guarantee of anything, Chang'e.”

She laughed, patting him on the shoulder. “Relax, I'm a lot tougher than anyone else around here.”

Haoyu groaned, covering his face with his hands. “You are giving me a headache.”

“You are the one who decided to help an alien.”

☆☆☆☆☆

The vast immensity of space stretched out beyond the reinforced windows of the Autobot ship, a distant glow of stars and nebulae illuminating the darkness. Inside the command bridge, the atmosphere was one of concentrated tension. The search for the AllSpark had gone on for countless cycles, and each new clue could mean a breakthrough or yet another frustration.

Prowl stood in front of the main terminal, his metallic hands running over the controls with meticulous precision. His visor glowed as he analyzed the newly arrived data.

“I've found something strange.” he announced, breaking the tense silence.

The assembled Autobots, including Optimus Prime, Jazz and Ironhide, turned their attention to him. Ratchet, busy adjusting one of the auxiliary systems, cast a sidelong glance at the screen.

“Define 'strange'. “ Ironhide grumbled, crossing his heavy arms over his chest.

“There are faint cybertronian energy signatures being detected from a planet called Earth,” explained Prowl. He zoomed in on the screen, revealing more specific data. “What caught my eye was this.”

He typed in a few commands and a series of pieces of information appeared on the interface. Cybertronian coordinates seemed to be engraved on an object registered as “old glasses”. The seller's name and user were highlighted: “Sam Witwicky, username: LadiesMan217”. 

Jazz leaned forward, examining the data.

“Glasses? Is that what we have now? The AllSpark could be lost in the universe, and our clue is a human accessory?”

“Not any accessory,” corrected Prowl. “These coordinates are similar to those in the AllSpark's records before Cybertron fell. That can't be a coincidence.”

“It could be a trap set by the Cons,” observed Sunstreaker from the back of the room, without taking his eyes off his own polished reflection in a metal panel. “Or just old junk that somehow carried traces of Cybertron. Humans collect all sorts of useless things.”

“Still, if there's the slightest chance that this could lead us to the AllSpark, we need to investigate,” declared Optimus, his voice firm but measured.

Sideswipe stepped forward, his sensors adjusting to the screen reading.

“So, where is this Sam Witwicky? Can we trace the item back to him?”

Prowl typed in a few more commands and his expression stiffened.

“It looks like the 'post' has been deleted. There's a new owner, but I can't find any data on the buyer.”

Ironhide snorted.

“Good. Now we have to look for a pair of glasses in a population of billions of organic beings.”

Ratchet, who until then had been silent, turned completely around to face the others.

“What if the Decepticons already know about this? If we can trace this signature, so can they.”

The ship was silent for a brief moment. Everyone knew what this meant. There was no time to lose.

Optimus Prime slowly clenched his fists and then nodded.

“Então encontraremos o comprador antes que os Decepticons o façam. Prepare-se para a descida. Espreite, Jazz. Tente encontrar o comprador.”

AQUI ESTÃO AS MUDANÇAS, GALERA, tenho mais algumas artes dela que mostrarei nos próximos capítulos >:D (também a segunda foto foi a primeira vez que a desenhei, então há algumas coisas que mudei no design dela)

Chapter Text

Artigo 1: Os cavaleiros devem sentir-se honrados por terem nascido.

AR-17032 ainda estava em sua armadura enquanto marchava pelos escombros da cidade devastada. O chão rachado e coberto de cinzas rangia sob o peso das unidades cegadas avançando em busca de sobreviventes. A batalha havia acabado, mas seu trabalho não. Entre os restos de construções e máquinas destruídas, corpos jaziam imóveis — soldados, irmãos, cópias idênticas dela.

Ela não deveria sentir nada. A morte foi um fator desencadeado na guerra, algo que eles não deveriam temer, mas sim se sentiram honrados em morrer pelo bem de seu dever. E ainda assim, enquanto ela olhava para aquele rosto morto, tão idêntico ao seu, algo dentro dela pareceu se contorcer. Um eco fraco de algo que não deveria estar ali.

Ela continua em frente, passando por corpos espalhados no chão em posições grotescas. Alguns estavam empilhados onde tinham sido derrubados por uma explosão, membros torcidos, alguns faltando, partes da armadura ainda fumegando. Outros tinham sido dilacerados pelo enxame, torsos abertos expondo músculos lacerados, sangue encantando o chão. Cada rosto que ele via era o seu. Cada corpo era um lembrete de que poderia ter sido ela.

“Eu já... falei com eles?”

Ajoelhando-se ao lado de um dos corpos, ela estendeu a mão de metal de sua armadura e começou a organizá-los cuidadosamente. Era um mero gesto automático, algo que eles tinham sido ensinados a fazer. Mas agora, enquanto ela move os corpos sem vida para que eles fiquem alinhados, algo dentro dela se contraiu. 

Seus olhos caíram sobre um dos capacetes quebrados, revelando um rosto idêntico ao seu, exceto pela expressão vazia. Uma lembrança das regras que todos seguiam ressoou em sua mente.

Os cavaleiros devem sentir-se honrados por terem nascido.

Honradas...? A existência delas era um privilégio ou apenas uma extensão do dever? Suas mãos hesitaram por um breve segundo antes de continuar seu trabalho. Não importava. Questionar não mudaria nada. Ela se clamou, ajustando sua postura dentro da armadura e retomando sua marcha, mantendo sua voz e pensamentos enterrados sob camadas de disciplina e obediência.

AR-17032 avançou com passos pesados ​​em direção aos outros soldados que sobreviveram à batalha. A armadura reforçada ressoou contra os destroços espalhados pelo chão devastado da cidade. Ela podia ouvir o crepitar das chamas ainda vivas consumindo o que restava dos prédios, misturado ao zumbido à distância dos cavaleiros voando sobre a área. O cheiro de metal queimado, sangue e carne carbonizada impregnava o ar, mas ninguém entre eles parecia se importar. Ou talvez você estivesse simplesmente acostumado.

Ela ajustou a posição do capacete e ficou ao lado dos outros, ouvindo uma conversa que acontecia no canal de comunicação comum.

“- Tio muitas perdas desta vez.”

“- Se aqueles covardes Cybertronianos realmente precisam nos ajudar nas batalhas antes de voltarem para seu planeta...”

Houve nas vozes de seus irmãos de armas, ressentimento latente em meio à fadiga. AR-17032 permanece em silêncio por um momento, apenas absorvendo as palavras. Ela entendeu uma frustração. A guerra não era novidade para eles. O Enxame nunca parou. Mas a ausência dos Cybertronianos foi um golpe inesperado, e seu silêncio desde então pareceu uma traição.

Mas o que a fez olhar para o chão, com um aperto desconfortável no peito, foi outra coisa: a lembrança do dia em que pude da fuga deles.

Algumas semanas atrás

O Cockpit estava lotado. O vasto espaço, cheio de plataformas e estruturas de metal, era o lar da Cavalaria de Ferro reunido em força. Todos os soldados usavam o mesmo uniforme padrão: um macacão branco-esverdeado, que cobria seus corpos completamente, deixando apenas suas mãos e cabeças descobertas. Linhas e encaixes de metal indicavam onde sua armadura completa se conectaria ao trajeto, pronta para o combate a qualquer momento. As luzes frias da câmara refletiram nas centenas de rostos idênticos aguardados em silêncio, disciplinados e atentos.

Na plataforma superior, os Conselheiros ficavam imóveis, suas longas vestes contrastando com a presença austera dos soldados abaixo. Quando um deles deu um passo à frente, sua voz soou alta e clara no sistema de áudio da sala.

“- A República de Divastea acaba de ser traída.”

O peso daquelas palavras fez a tensão no Cockpit aumentar. Sem murmúrios, sem hesitação. Apenas esperando pela explicação.

"- Os Cybertronianos, a quem estendemos nossa aliança, retornaram ao seu planeta. Eles abandonaram esta guerra."

A declaração caiu como uma lâmina, afiada e certa. AR-17032 piscou, processando a notícia. Traição. A palavra queimou em seu peito como ferro em brasa.

Um murmúrio foi ouvido entre os soldados, mas foi rapidamente silenciado.

AR-17032 sentiu o peso daquelas palavras se espalharem por seu corpo como um choque elétrico.

“- Aqueles que ousaram fugir do campo de batalha não são mais aliados de nossa nação. Eles nos deixaram para nos defendermos sozinhos. Mas não somos fracos. Não recuamos. Lembre-se do que você é. Do que você deve ser.”

AR-17032 não preciso olhar ao redor para saber que todos sentiram o mesmo. A raiva cresceu, fria e silenciosa, sob a superfície de suas expressões inalteradas. Não importava o quanto os Cybertronianos tinham ajudado no passado, mesmo que pelo menos eles fossem vistos na batalha . 

"- Você foi criado para lutar. Você vive para servir. Até virar cinzas. Até o último golpe. POR SUA MAJESTADE !"

Ela cerrou os punhos, levantando-os e repetindo as palavras do Conselheiro, junto com os outros cavaleiros, forçando-se a aceitar aquelas palavras sem questionar. Mas mesmo enquanto sua mente repetia o lema da Cavalaria de Ferro, algo nela hesitou. Algo que ela não conseguiu nomear.

Sua mente voltou para D-16 quando eles foram dispensados. Para o dia em que eles se encontraram e escaparam com seus irmãos para observar as estrelas longe da cabine.

Eles passaram um bom tempo conversando, os cavaleiros fazendo várias perguntas sobre o Cybertroniano cinza. Uma curiosidade deles era interessante; para muitos, ele foi o primeiro Cybertroniano que conheceram de perto. O fato de ele ser tão diferente deles só fez as perguntas mais insistentes.

“Como é Cybertron?” Um dos cavaleiros disse, sua voz cheia de uma mistura de fascínio e ceticismo. “É verdade que o planeta inteiro é feito de metal?”

D-16, que estava sentado com os joelhos dobrados e os braços apoiados neles, olhou para os cavaleiros. "Sim. É um mundo de cidades que se eleva aos céus, de torres estendidas e estradas suspensas... Mas também tem suas ruínas e sombras. Não é perfeito, mas é... era nosso lar."

Outro cavaleiro se inclinou para frente, intrigado. "E como você nasce? Ou você é feito? Como suas... centelhas funcionam?"

D-16 hesitou por um momento antes de responder. “Nós nascemos do Allspark, mas também podemos ser forjados. Nossas centelhas são basicamente nossas... almas. É nossa força vital”

Os cavaleiros trocaram olhares, murmurando entre si. “E você?” AR-17032 acabou consultando, saindo diretamente para ele. “Como era sua vida antes de estar aqui?”

O silêncio que se seguiu foi questionado. D-16 desviou o olhar, suas mandíbulas de metal cerrando-se levemente. “Isso não importa mais.”

Os cavaleiros se entreolharam, e AR-17032 sentiu uma pontada estranha ao ver a maneira como D-16 evitou perguntas pessoais. Ele falava sobre Cybertron, sua cultura, suas cidades, suas guerras... mas sempre que alguém perguntava sobre ele, sua postura ficava mais fechada.

Havia uma verdadeira paixão quando ele falava sobre seu planeta, algo que parecia tão distante da realidade deles.

Outro cavaleiro, mais curioso, perguntou: "Se Cybertron é tão grande e avançado, por que você veio aqui? Não seria melhor ficar lá do que lutar?"

D-16 hesitou antes de responder, seu olhar se tornando mais sombrio. "Cybertron também já foi um lugar de guerra. Ainda é, de certa forma. Mas o problema não está nos planetas, está naqueles que os governam. Não é só a tecnologia que faz um lar, é quem vive nele." Ele então mudou seu olhar para AR-17032, como se avaliasse a ocorrência dela.

Ela desviou o olhar, incerta sobre como responder. Até aquele momento, sua vida sempre teve um propósito claro: lutar, servir e, eventualmente, cair. Mas o D-16 estava falando sobre possibilidades além disso. Algo que não deveria existir para eles.

Em algum momento da conversa, D-16 revelou algo que marcou profundamente. “Quero te mostrar uma coisa, AR-17032.” Sua voz era baixa, como se estivesse revelando um segredo. "Antes de nos conhecermos, eu costumava escrever poesia quando estava fora do cronograma. Se tivermos tempo, posso te mostrar algo que escrevi."

Ela não sabia o que dizer naquele momento. Apenas assentiu, sentindo algo que não conseguia nomear crescendo dentro dela. Uma centelha de algo diferente.

Ela não sabia como responder. Os sonhos eram um conceito estranho para a Cavalaria de Ferro, mas D-16 os tinha. Ele falou sobre coisas que nunca foram prioridade para eles — arte, poesia, liberdade.

Agora, repetindo as palavras do Conselheiro, AR-17032 senti algo se contorcer dentro dela. D-16 tinha ido embora com os outros? Ele também era um traidor?

Ele estava pensando em mim?

Ela manteve sua expressão neutra, disciplinada, mas dentro dela, algo estava começando a rachar.

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Chang'e estava deitada na cama, olhando para o teto sem realmente vê-lo. O colchão era confortável, mas conforto não parecia importar. O silêncio da casa apenas amplificava os ruídos dentro de sua própria mente, e ela sabia exatamente por que isso estava acontecendo.

Ela estava começando a ficar desgostosa de lembrar de seu planeta. Seu lar. Ou o que costumava ser chamado de lar. Quanto mais ela pensou em Divastea, mais ela percebeu o quão fodido tudo era. A maneira como ela e os outros cavaleiros foram tratados, a maneira como suas vidas foram moldadas antes mesmo de eles nascerem.

Ela fechou os olhos, tentando bloquear uma avalanche de pensamentos, mas isso só fez as memórias virem mais vividamente à mente. As fileiras infinitas de soldados idênticos a ela, marchando sob comandos frios. O Cockpit, onde eles passaram a maior parte de suas vidas, onde foram ensinados a lutar, a matar, a obedecer sem questionar. As palavras dos Conselheiros ecoaram em sua mente como um mantra inescapável:

"Vocês não são indivíduos. Vocês são armas. Ferramentas para o nosso Império."

Na época, isso não a incomodava. Nem ela nem os outros. Eles não sabiam o que deveria ser mais do que isso. Eles nasceram para lutar. Eles não tinham propósito além disso. Então por que essas palavras agora soavam tão erradas?

Ela mordeu os lábios, sentindo raiva misturada com frustração. Eles não eram considerados seres vivos em Divastea. Eles eram concorrentes. Apenas números, apenas mais um item na máquina de guerra do Império. Como se eles não tivessem valor além do campo de batalha. Se um cavaleiro morresse, outro tomaria seu lugar, sem luto, sem nomes para lembrar. Apenas mais um número desperdiçado.

Chang'e abriu os olhos, seu olhar fixo no teto. Ela queria odiar aquilo. Mas o problema era... que ela estava muito demorada para perceber. Por muitos anos, ela acreditou nisso. Ela acreditava que era apenas uma arma. E mesmo agora, longe daquele planeta, ela sentiu que algo dentro dela ainda estava preso ali.

Ela respirou fundo, tentando se livrar da sensação de sufocamento que isso trazia. A chave para sua armadura ainda estava ao lado da cama, e ela alcançou com os dedos, sentindo o metal frio contra sua pele. O lema da Cavalaria de Ferro estava lá, gravado com resultados cruéis.

Os olhos dela deslizaram sobre as palavras, mas agora elas tinham um peso diferente. O que antes era um juramento de honra agora parecia uma sentença de morte.

Uma zombária. Uma mentira cruel e perversa gravada em metal.

Chang'e apertau os lábios, apertando a garganta apertada. Mas então algo chamou sua atenção: a ferrugem havia se espalhado. A mancha laranja que antes se limitava a pequenos pontos na superfície da chave agora estava se espalhando, corroendo lentamente as bordas do metal. Seus dedos tremeram ao tocar o metal áspero, e um arrepio percorreu sua espinha.

Ela estava ficando sem tempo.

Ela sabia o que isso queria. Todos os Cavaleiros da Cavalaria de Ferro carregavam um defeito genético que foi deliberadamente implantado pelos cientistas de Divastea: isso era chamado de Síndrome de Perda de Entropia. Não importava o quanto eles lutaram, o quão vitoriosos eles foram, ou o quão devotados eles foram à sua causa. No final, eles estavam todos condenados. Seus corpos, suas próprias existências, foram codificados para desaparecer.

A ferrugem na chave era apenas um reflexo do que aconteceria com ela. Lentamente, sua estrutura física perderia sua solidez, seu tempo se desfaria sem aviso. A princípio, tudo lhe pareceria normal - com sua mente funcionando normalmente, seus movimentos fluidos quanto antes. Mas então as mudanças começaram. Pequenas diferenças quase imperceptíveis. Um atraso em seus reflexos, um segundo a mais para responder a um estímulo. Como se o mundo ao seu redor estivesse começando a se mover em um ritmo diferente, cada vez mais distante. E então, um dia, seu corpo desapareceu completamente.

Chang'e sempre soube disso. Todos os Cavaleiros sabiam. Mas ver isso acontecer, ver isso diante de seus olhos na forma daquela ferrugem crescente, era algo completamente diferente.

Ela engoliu em seco silenciosamente. A ideia de morrer nunca assustou antes. Guerra, combate sem fim, sempre a fez acreditar que era apenas mais um ciclo natural. Mas agora... agora que ela estava finalmente experimentando algo diferente de batalha, agora que ela estava começando a entender como era ter uma vida sem seguir ordens - o medo tomou conta de seu peito como uma maldição.

Ela não queria desaparecer.

Ela não queria morrer .

Segurando a chave com firmeza, Chang'e sente uma textura áspera contra sua pele. Por um momento, seu coração martelou contra suas costelas em pânico lamacento. Seus olhos queimaram, mas nenhuma lágrima veio.

Ela soltou um suspiro trêmulo e fechou os olhos. Pensar nisso agora não mudaria nada. Mas mesmo que ela não soubesse como, ela tinha que encontrar uma maneira de parar esse destino. Ela tinha que viver.

Seus dedos apertaram a chave com mais força. Seu corpo tremia — de raiva, frustração, algo que ela não conseguiu nomear. Os cientistas de Divastea não são como humanos. Eles nunca os viram. A Cavalaria de Ferro nunca foi feita para viver muito. Eles sempre foram apenas armas, criadas para lutar e depois descartadas.

Não. Ela não aceitaria isso. Ela não podia aceitar isso.

Chang'e respirou fundo, o ar queimando em seus pulmões. Seu tempo estava se esgotando, mas isso não exigia que ela ficasse parada e esperasse. Ela ainda tinha uma vida. Uma que não herdou mais da República. Uma que poderia ser dela, se ela lutasse por ela.

Com um movimento arrependido, Chang'e guardou a chave no bolso. Se aquela ferrugem era um aviso, que assim fosse. Ela encontraria uma maneira de sobreviver. Ela encontraria uma maneira de vencer isso - e não importava o que ela tivesse que fazer para isso.

Ela não sabia quanto tempo ela restava.

Talvez algumas semanas. Talvez até meses, ela tivesse tido sorte.

Ou talvez...

Ela engoliu em seco, sentindo sua respiração ficar irregular.

Por que agora?

Por que agora ela estava finalmente longe da guerra? Agora que ela tinha um amigo, um lugar para estar, a possibilidade - não, a ilusão - de uma vida normal?

Ela sentiu o peito apertar.

Seu tempo estava contado desde o início.

Seu destino era desaparecer como todos os outros.

Seu destino era ser queimado até virar cinzas.

A raiva veio em ondas, queimando mais forte que o medo, mais forte que a tristeza que ameaçava tomar conta dela.

Se fosse esse o caso... então ela não aceitaria isso em silêncio.

Se seu tempo fosse limitado, ela não deixaria ser desperdiçado.

Ela não era mais uma soldada marchando para a morte sem questionar. Não era mais apenas uma arma esperando para ser descartada quando não fosse mais útil.

Ela era Chang'e agora. Não AR-17032.

O som repentino do celular tocando cortes a tensão sufocante no ar. Seu corpo levou um segundo para reagir antes que sua mão alcançasse o aparelho ao lado da cama.

Uma tela brilhou no escuro. Uma nova mensagem.

De: LadiesMan217

Por um momento, ela não conseguiu lembrar quem era. Seu olhar foi rapidamente para a notificação e então a memória voltou para o vendedor com os óculos.

Os óculos com inscrições Cybertronianas.

Chang'e enviou-se na cama, ignorando o nó na garganta que ainda permanece de seus pensamentos anteriores. Ela abriu uma mensagem.

"Ei, você ainda está interessado nos óculos? Podemos nos encontrar à tarde em um parque."

Ela franziu a testa. Isso foi rápido.

Chang'e tamborilou os dedos na tela, hesitante.

Ela queria aqueles óculos. Desde que os encontramos, algo neles chamou sua atenção. E mesmo que ela não conseguisse ler o que estava escrito neles, ela sabia que não era algo comum. Não deveria ser simplesmente largado por aí, à venda para qualquer um.

Chang'e mordeu os atrasos inferiores, ponderando. Haoyu estava dormindo. E, honestamente, ela não queria pensar na ferrugem ou na maldita contagem regressiva ainda.

Talvez seja melhor agir logo.

Movendo-se com cautela, ela respondeu à mensagem e foi até a cozinha para pegar um pedaço de papel e uma caneta. Ela sentou-se no balcão e, por alguns segundos, apenas olhou para a folha de papel em branco.

O que ela deveria escrever?

Algo simples. Algo que não levantasse suspeitas.

Ela girou a caneta entre os dedos antes de finalmente começar a escrever.

“Haoyu,

 Sai para dar uma volta. Não se preocupe, não irei longe e voltarei em breve. Peguei parte do dinheiro que você me deu há um tempo.

 Se precisar de alguma coisa, envie-me uma mensagem.

 Mudar."

Ela releu as palavras, imaginando que isso era o suficiente. “Eu não irei longe” não era exatamente uma mentira.

Ainda assim, ela hesitou antes de deixar o bilhete no balcão. Um pensamento perturbador cruzou sua mente: e se algo acontecesse?

Não, nada aconteceu. Ela pegaria os óculos e voltaria antes que Haoyu sequer notasse sua ausência.

Com isso feito, ela dobrou o bilhete ao meio e o colocou em um lugar visível, bem ao lado da cafeteira, onde ele certamente o veria assim que acordasse.

Então ela pegou parte do dinheiro que Haoyu lhe dera mais cedo e saiu silenciosamente, fechando a porta cuidadosamente atrás de si.

Altera a estrada indicada, cruzando ruas e avenidas enquanto a cidade se estende à sua frente em uma paisagem de concreto e movimento constante. O endereço que o vendedor dos óculos ele dera ficou em um parque consideravelmente mais distante de onde ela e Haoyu estavam morando, e a caminhada estava se tornando mais longa do que ela havia previsto.

Os prédios ao redor, calçadas largas e postes de luz, eram pilares de uma selva urbana que estava lentamente se tornando familiar. No entanto, algo nela ainda sentiu aquela estranheza silenciosa, a sensação de ser uma peça fora do lugar em uma quebra-cabeça muito maior. Londres era mais compacta, as distâncias entre os lugares mais simples e mais simples de cobrir o pé. Aqui, tudo parecia projetado para depender de alguma outra forma de transporte.

Ela examinou cuidadosamente as ruas. O número de carros passando era absurdo. Pequenos, grandes, de núcleos e formas diferentes, cada um carregando alguém com um destino a cumprir. Chang'e nunca havia dirigido um carro antes, mas sabia como eles funcionavam na teoria. O conceito era simples: um veículo movido a combustível, controlado manualmente para se mover com velocidade e eficiência.

Talvez eu deva comprar um carro...

A ideia surgiu espontaneamente quando ela viu um grupo de pessoas saindo de um táxi amarelo. Se os humanos dependessem tanto desses veículos para se locomoverem, então talvez fosse um investimento necessário. Haoyu, por exemplo, não tinha a mesma resistência física que ela. Embora ele fosse um modelo atlético e estivesse acostumado a se movimentar, longas distâncias como essa provavelmente seriam um problema para ele no futuro.

Mas quanto custava um carro?

Chang'e não sabia exatamente quanto custava, mas pelo que tinha visto, desviou ser algo significativo. A maneira como as pessoas mantinham e limpavam indicavam um certo grau de apego, o que sugeria que não fossem bens facilmente substituíveis.

Ela suspirou, mudando o olhar para a calçada enquanto continuava andando. Comprar um carro não era uma decisão que ela pudesse tomar sozinha. Haoyu já estava ajudando demais, e ela não precisava sobrecarregá-lo ainda mais. Talvez, se ela arrecadasse algum dinheiro sozinha, ela pudesse contribuir. Mas como?

Eu sou uma arma , ela pensou, um gosto amargo crescendo em sua boca. Eu fui feito para a guerra. Meus talentos não se aplicam a este mundo.

A pergunta pairava sobre sua mente como um peso invisível. Ela sabia lutar e seguir ordens. Mas, além disso... O que ela sabia fazer?

A caminhada contínua, e o parque ainda parecia distante. Embora ela não se sentisse fatigada da mesma forma que um humano, Chang'e podia ver o esforço que suas pernas estavam fazendo. Se Haoyu estivesse com ela agora, ele provavelmente teria um pedido para ela parar em algum lugar para descansar algumas vezes.

Pensando nele, ela se lembrou da maneira como ele parecia se preocupar com coisas que, para ela, ainda eram abstratas. Comida, dinheiro, conforto... Esses eram conceitos com os quais ela nunca tinha sido lida antes. Em Divastea, sua existência era reduzida a seguir ordens e cumprir objetivos. O que aconteceria com ela agora que ninguém mais poderia lhe dar ordens?

Preciso me adaptar... Preciso entender como esse mundo funciona.

Ela passou por uma loja de conveniência e viu uma mulher saindo com uma sacola cheia de compras. Outro lembrete de como a vida normal revela uma compreensão que ela ainda não possuía. Tudo ali parecia girar em torno de dinheiro e comércio. Se ela quisesse ajudar Haoyu, ela tinha que encontrar uma maneira de contribuir financeiramente.

Seus pensamentos foram interrompidos quando, olhando para frente, viu que estava se aproximando do parque. As árvores eram altas e espalhavam suas sombras sobre os bancos e caminhos pavimentados. Algumas pessoas caminhavam calmamente, outras estavam sentadas e conversando. As crianças brincavam em um pequeno playground, suas risadas se misturavam ao som do vento e ao farfalhar das folhas.

Era um lugar tranquilo. Diferente do ambiente tenso e calculista que ela conhecia. Diferente do cockpit sufocante de onde ela vinha.

Ela parou por um momento, inalando o ar fresco. Apesar da poluição urbana, ainda havia algo natural ali. Algo que trazia uma estranha sensação de... paz. Uma palavra que ela recentemente experimentou.

Chang'e abra os dedos levemente. A chave enferrujada em seu bolso parecia pesar mais do que o normal. Ela estava ficando sem tempo, e isso a incomodava. Mas por um breve momento, naquele parque comum, ela deixou essa preocupação de lado.

Chang'e decidiu sentar-se em um banco perto do lago, posicionando-se de forma relaxada, mas atento. A superfície da água se move suavemente na brisa, refletindo o céu nublado acima. Algumas folhas flutuavam, levadas lentamente para longe, e patos nadavam vagarosamente, suas penas brilhavam com a umidade. Ela pegou seu celular e rapidamente digitou uma mensagem para o vendedor de óculos.

Ela rapidamente digitou uma mensagem para o vendedor dos óculos, informando que havia chegado e enviando sua localização exata para facilitar o encontro.

Após enviar, ela guardou o telefone e cruzou os braços, recostando-se no assento enquanto esperava. Minutos se passaram sem resposta.

Chang'e bateu o pé levemente no chão, tentando não demonstrar sua impaciência. Ele não disse que seria hoje?, pensou, dando uma olhada rápida no celular novamente. Nenhuma nova notificação. 

Ela já estava pensando em mandar outra mensagem quando notou um garoto se aproximando hesitante. Ele parecia ter uns 17 anos, com cabelos castanhos grossos, curtos e cacheados. Ele estava usando uma camiseta de banda - The Strokes - e jeans levemente surrados. Seu nariz largo e levemente curvado dava um visual distinto, e sua expressão mostrava um certo nervosismo, como se ele estivesse prestes a fazer algo que exigisse coragem.

Enquanto caminhava em direção a Chang'e, ele tirou o celular do bolso e checou a tela uma última vez, talvez para ter certeza de que estava no lugar certo. Então ele parou a alguns passos dela, cheirou discretamente e, com um leve tom de incerteza, disse:

“Você é... uhh... Starblazer98?”

Ele parecia um pouco envergonhado de dizer o nome de usuário em voz alta, como se não estivesse acostumado a dizer esse tipo de coisa fora da internet. Seus olhos rapidamente escanearam uma garota sentada no banco, como se tentasse confirmar que era realmente ela — o que não era exatamente fácil, considerando que Chang'e não se parecia com a maioria das pessoas que ele imaginava encontrar comprando mistérios na internet.

Chang'e se clamou, endireitando sua postura antes de responder.

“Ahem, você deve ser LadiesMan217?”

Ela tentou voar naturalmente quando disse isso, mas era difícil não se sentir um pouco envergonhada quando ela pronunciava um nome tão... peculiar. Parecia algo que um pré-adolescente escolheria, achando que soava legal e impressionante na época. O nome soava ainda mais ridículo falado em voz alta.

Na sua frente, o garoto piscou algumas vezes antes de soltar uma risada sem graça, esfregando as costas da mão como se estivesse acostumado a ter vergonha disso.

"Ah, sim... Então, sobre esse nome... Eu não o escolhi, na verdade. Meu amigo o mudou na minha conta há um tempo e eu nunca me incomodei em mudá-lo."

Ele acenou com a mão no ar, como se quisesse desviar a atenção desse detalhe.

"Juro que eu tinha um nome normal antes disso. Mas, não sei, eu simplesmente deixei assim."

Sam soltou outra risada, desviando o olhar momentaneamente. Ele parecia ainda mais ciente da situação agora que viu Chang'e parado na sua frente.

A diferença de altura era quase gritante.

Chang'e não precisou se esforçar para perceber o quanto ela era mais alta do que ele — ele já tinha feito isso tantas vezes antes, com tantas outras pessoas, que era um hábito inconsciente. Com impressionantes 2,20 metros, ela praticamente se elevava sobre Sam, que não tinha mais do que 1,70 metro.

Ele deu um passo para trás quase instintivamente, como se seu cérebro precisasse de mais distância para processar o tamanho dela. Seus olhos lentamente se ergueram para encontrar os dela, e seu semblante oscilou entre surpresa e algo beirando a perplexidade.

Chang'e cruzou os braços, sorrindo levemente e avaliando a expressão do garoto.

Sam abriu a boca, hesitando por um momento.

“Você é... alto.”

Mude levemente.

“E você é muito observador.”

Ele balançou a cabeça, como se precisasse elaborar a informação.

“Tipo, muito alto.”

“Sim. Isso geralmente acontece quando você tem mais de dois metros de altura.

“Nossa... eles te deram fermentado quando você era criança, hein?”

Chang'e revirou os olhos e cruzou os braços.

“Você tem óculos ou não?”

"Eu aceito! Sim, eu aceito!"

Ele rapidamente enfiou a mão no bolso do paletó, tirou um pequeno estojo e abriu para mostrar os óculos.

Chang'e olhou para o objeto. Era exatamente o mesmo modelo da foto.

Antes que ela pudesse pegá-los, Sam tinha as sobrancelhas, curioso.

“Mas falando sério... o que você quer com um par de óculos velhos como esse?”

Chang'e manteve sua expressão neutra.

“Estou estudando história na universidade”, ela respondeu sem hesitar.

Era mentira, claro. Mas ele não precisa saber disso.

Sam franziu a testa melhor, olhando para os óculos e depois para ela.

"História?"

"Sim. Eles são velhos, então fiquei interessado."

O menino pareceu refletir sobre isso por um momento, mas acabou dando de ombros.

“Huh. Legal, eu acho.”

Chang'e chegou à mão.

“Posso levá-los agora?”

“Ah, sim, claro.”

Ele entregou o caso sem protestar.

Ela pegou o dinheiro que havia separado no bolso e entregou a Sam, que rapidamente recebeu as notas antes de colocá-las no bolso.

“Fechado então.”

Ele enviou, parecendo satisfeito por ter finalizado o acordo sem mais constrangimentos.

"Bem, foi um prazer fazer negócios com você, Srta. Supermodelo do Basquete."

Ela apenas deu um sorriso educado antes de se virar para sair.

Sam ficou parado por um momento, observando a figura dela se afastar antes de seguir seu próprio caminho.

Mudou o caminho de volta pelo parque, sentindo um problema sutil por finalmente ter conseguido seus óculos. Ela deslizou a mão no bolso, localizando o formato do estojo lá dentro. Talvez fosse um pouco bobo, mas havia algo esmagador em segurar o objeto, em saber que agora ela poderia analisá-lo com calma.

Ela observou o céu escurecer gradualmente. O sol estava começando a se pôr, tingindo o horizonte com tons alaranjados e avermelhados que refletiam na superfície do lago. Era lindo. Calma, até.

Por um breve momento, ela se sentiu como se tivesse esquecido suas preocupações - o peso de suas memórias, a ferrugem na chave, a síndrome corroendo seu tempo um pouco a pouco. Mas a sensação não durou muito.

Chang'e foi abruptamente tirado de seus pensamentos quando esbarrou em algo.

Ou melhor, alguém.

“Uau!”

O impacto foi pequeno, quase insignificante para ela, mas o outro lado pareceu ter sentido mais o choque.

Chang'e olhou para baixo e viu um menino. 

Baixo, com cabelo escuro bagunçado, veste um moletom vermelho largo, calças cargo escuras e um par de all-stars surrados. O mais estranho eram seus óculos escuros vermelhos-escuros, que eram grandes demais para seu rosto. As lentes dificultavam seus olhos, mas ela ainda sentia como se estivesse sendo encarada. 

O garoto cambaleou um pouco para trás antes de se firmar novamente. E quando ele abriu um sorriso, Chang'e notou um detalhe curioso - havia um dente faltando. 

Ele tinha o tipo de aparência que imediatamente fez com que se lembrasse dos desenhos animados que Haoyu lhe mostrou um tempo atrás. O tipo de criança que sempre causava problemas.

Ele tinha o tipo de aparência que imediatamente lembrou dos desenhos que Haoyu lhe mostrou um tempo atrás. O tipo de criança que causava problemas.

Antes que ela pudesse dizer qualquer coisa, ele já estava falando.

"Heh. Frag, você é gigante!"

Chang'e piscou, surpreso com a falta de cerimônia em sua voz.

“É o que diz.”

O garoto não parece nem um pouco intimidado. Pelo contrário - ele cruzou os braços e expressou o queixo, parecendo muito confiante para alguém que quase havia caído alguns segundos atrás.

“Você deveria tomar cuidado por onde você está.”

Chang'e declarou uma sobrancelha.

"Eu? Você é quem se jogou na minha frente."

Ele bufou, um som que parecia mais divertido do que irritado.

"Não importa. Eu estava ocupado!"

“Fazendo o quê?”

O menino sorriu maliciosamente.

"Segredo."

Chang'e suspirou.

"Certo."

Ela estava prestes a ir embora e seguir seu caminho, mas algo na postura do garoto fez hesitar.

Ele estava sozinho. Não havia adultos por perto chamando por ele, nenhuma outra criança por perto brincando junto.

E agora que ela pensou nisso... ele parecia um pouco perdido.

Chang'e cruzou os braços e o inspirou por um momento.

“Você está perdido?”

O garoto hesitou por uma fração de segundo, um brilho rápido passando por trás das lentes vermelhas. Mas então ele deu de ombros, como se não se importasse.

"E daí?

“Então as crianças geralmente não saem sozinhas.”

"Pff. Não me compare com espumantes."

Ele bateu a mão no peito, confiante.

“Eu consigo me virar muito bem sozinho.”

Mudou de foco e estreitou os olhos. 

O que era um espumante? Alguma outra gíria humana que ela não conhecia?

"Sério?"

Ele enviou novamente, mas havia algo na maneira como seus dedos se moviam, impacientemente, como se ele estivesse tentando decidir se continuaria ali parado ou saía correndo.

Ela suspirou.

“Você está procurando alguém?”

Desta vez, a resposta não veio imediatamente.

O menino virou o rosto um pouco para o lado, balançando o pé no chão, como se estivesse pensando se deveria ou não contar a ela.

Chang'e percebeu que provavelmente não queria presumir que estava perdido. Mas... ele realmente estava.

Olhando mais de perto para o garoto, os óculos escuros ainda escondiam a maior parte do seu rosto, mas à maneira como ele balançava as pernas e movia as mãos impacientemente a pensar que ele realmente estava perdido. O garoto, apesar de sua confiança externa, parecia desconfortável em admitir isso.

Ela respirou fundo, tentando não deixar sua frustração tomar conta. Ela não gostava de lidar com pessoas, muito menos saber lidar com crianças, mas algo sobre a situação a fez querer ajudar. Talvez fosse o jeito como ele olhava ao redor, como se tentasse levar em conta cada parte do parque, ou talvez o fato de que ele ainda parecia muito jovem para ficar sozinho em um lugar como aquele.

“Olha...” Chang'e começou, sua voz suave, mas firme. “Eu posso te ajudar a encontrar seu guardião, se você quiser.”

O garoto olhou para ela desconfiada, um brilho travesso nas lentes vermelhas dos óculos. Ele estava claramente hesitante, mas algo sobre a oferta fez seu peito apertar.

“E por que você faria isso?” ele perguntou, com uma dúvida surgindo em sua voz.

Chang'e pensou por um momento, seus olhos pousando no garoto à sua frente. Ela percebeu que não sabia realmente o porquê. Talvez fosse apenas uma questão de se ver em alguém tão pequeno e perdido. Ela frequentemente se sentia assim também - perdida em um mundo que não parecia querer que ela estivesse ali.

“Não gosto de ver as pessoas sozinhas, e parece que você não sabe realmente onde está.” Chang'e falou simplesmente, mas com um tom que era quase... gentilmente, algo que ela raramente demonstrou. “Não custa nada ajudar.”

O garoto franziu a testa, claramente não habituou a esse tipo de atenção. Ele hesitou por um segundo, provavelmente tentando descobrir o que ela queria. Mas finalmente, ele soltou um resmungo e deu de ombros.

“Ok...” Ele bufou. 

Chang'e olhou para ele com um pequeno sorriso quase imperceptível, como se soubesse que ele não seria capaz de resistir à proposta.

Chang'e esperou um momento e então decidiu se apresentar primeiro.

“Meu nome é Chang'e,” ela disse, mantendo seu tom amigável. “E o seu?”

Ele endireitou os ombros como se estivesse prestes a fazer uma grande revelação e então abriu um sorriso largo e confiante, mostrando seu dente faltando.

“Eu sou Frenzy.”

O nome não era comum, mas considerando que ele parecia o tipo de garoto enérgico que causava problemas, talvez feito sentido.

"Frenesi?" ela repetiu, arqueando uma sobrancelha. “Um nome interessante.”

Ele deu de ombros.

“Sim, eu sei.”

Chang'e se abaixou com um joelho no chão, acenando para Frenzy subir. Ao fazê-lo, ele colocou as mãos em seus ombros e, quase automaticamente, Chang'e o manifestou gentilmente, colocando-o firmemente em seus ombros.

O garoto parecia extremamente confortável com a altura. Enquanto ele estava sentado nos ombros dela, ele rapidamente se acomodou e colocou os braços na volta da cabeça de Chang'e, olhando ao redor com um olhar curioso.

- “Você é bem forte...” Frenzy comentou, surpresa misturada ao seu tom, enquanto olhava para o parque, agora muito menor da altura dos ombros de Chang'e.

Ela apenas convidou, não querendo prestar muita atenção nele. Em vez disso, ela começou a andar pelo parque, olhando ao redor com mais cuidado, tentando discernir se havia algum sinal dos pais do garoto.

“Onde você mora?” ela disse de forma prática, tentando manter uma conversa fluida.

Frenzy virou o rosto para ela, balançando a cabeça lentamente, como se estivesse determinado a manter uma certa distância emocional.

“Por que você pergunta?” A resposta foi rápida e evasiva, e seu tom foi desinteressado. Era claro que ele não estava com vontade de falar sobre onde morava ou o que fazia.

Chang'e não insistiu. O relacionamento deles ainda era muito distante, e ela não tinha intenção de forçar uma conversa.

O silêncio entre os dois passeios por algum tempo enquanto ela caminhava pelas trilhas do parque, passando por famílias e outros visitantes. Frenzy, por sua vez, olhou tudo com curiosidade aguda, os olhos escondidos pelas lentes vermelhas, mas o corpo balançando levemente, como se estivesse pronto para qualquer coisa a qualquer momento.

“O que você quer fazer quando conhecer seus pais?” Chang'e finalmente perguntou, quebrando o silêncio. Ela não tinha certeza do que estava esperando, mas talvez fosse uma maneira de distraí-los, ou até mesmo de continuar monitorando-o sem invadir muito o espaço deles.

Frenzy deu um sorriso torto.

“Ah, não sei... Acho que vou continuar a brincar com o meu irmão.” Ele riu suavemente, mais para si do que para ela. “Talvez eu quebre umas coisas lá fora.”

Chang'e olhou para ele por um momento, avaliando suas palavras e o tom com que ele as disse. Era uma resposta completamente sem filtro, mas ela sabia o suficiente para perceber que ele estava tentando parecer mais destemido do que realmente era. 

“Isso não vai te levar a lugar nenhum.” Ela finalmente disse, seu tom sério, mas não sem um toque de empatia que ela estava começando a não conseguir esconder.

Frenzy olhou para ela com um sorriso levemente tentado, mas dessa vez, algo diferente brilhou em seu olhar. 

Ele não respondeu, mas de maneira como ele encolheu um pouco sobre os ombros dela fez com que ela de repente sentisse que ele era um pouco mais vulnerável do que parecia.

Frenesi, ainda nos ombros de Chang'e, parecia estar lentamente se acostumando ao movimento calmo da caminhada. Embora sua postura ainda fosse um tanto inquietante, e ele continuasse com seus puxões ocasionais em seu cabelo, parecia que nele algo estava começando a relaxar. Era quase como se ele estivesse se adaptando à presença dela, desconcertantemente para ele, mas ele não declarou isso abertamente.

Chang'e, por sua vez, parece calmo, permitindo que a leveza do momento fluísse ao seu redor. Ela não fez questão de interromper Frenzy em sua tagarelice, mesmo quando ele parecia estar falando sem parar. Mas, eventualmente, ela planejou puxar o assunto para tentar entender melhor o garoto e, quem sabe aliviar, um pouco da tensão que sentiu vindo dele.

"De quem você se perdeu?" ela disse, sua voz suave e relaxada, como se fosse uma pergunta casual. Frenzy, que estava confundindo algo no bolso da calça, olhou para ela com uma expressão travessa.

“Eu estava com meu irmão e o chefe!” Chang'e declarou uma sobrancelha, interessada, mas não querendo muita pressão. Talvez fosse algum tipo de brincadeira entre ele e seu pai.

“E como eles são?” ela disse, seu tom suave, mas claramente abaixo que ela estava curiosa.

Frenzy ficou quieto por um momento, aparentemente procurando palavras para se expressar. Seu olhar mudou por um momento, e Chang'e percebeu o quão hesitante ele estava em compartilhar mais detalhes. No entanto, ele finalmente se abriu um pouco.

“Rumble é como eu, mas ele é azul,” ele disse, tentando ser vago, mas ao mesmo tempo deixando um pouco de sua opinião verdadeiramente transparecer. “Nós três temos a mesma viseira!”

Os humanos costumam se referir aos óculos como viseiras?

Chang'e continuava andando, tentando não parecer intrusivo, mas sua mente estava em alerta. O uso do termo viseira era estranho. Frenesi, com sua atitude irreverente e desorganizada, parecia estar escondido mais do que queria deixar transparecer. A curiosidade de Chang'e foi aguçada, mas ela não queria se apressar em fazer mais perguntas.

“E como é seu 'chefe'?”, ela perguntou então, tentando manter uma conversa fluindo naturalmente, sem forçar demais.

Frenzy riu, bastante animado.

"Ele é o melhor de todos! O chefe é super forte."

Frenzy parecia ter se acostumado à companhia dela, embora seu comportamento travesso continuasse. Ele deu a ela um último olhar antes de voltar a vasculhar as coisas em seus bolsos.

“Você tem mais alguma coisa para perguntar ou devemos continuar procurando por ele?” ele disse em um tom um tanto desinteressado, mas sua voz ainda tinha aquele brilho travesso de uma criança.

Chang'e pensou por um momento, mas decidiu que talvez fosse melhor não insistir em mais respostas. Ela apenas sorriu, sua expressão tão calma e amigável como sempre.

“Não, acho que já chega por enquanto”, ela respondeu, enquanto seus passos continuavam a ecoar suavemente pelo caminho de pedras do parque.

E assim eles continuaram a caminhar, cada um com suas próprias perguntas, seus próprios segredos, e o parque ao redor deles ficando cada vez mais silenciosos conforme a noite se aproximava.

Frenzy estava começando a se sentir mais confortável nos ombros de Chang'e, seus pezinhos balançando enquanto ele se acomodava. Ela podia sentir o corpo do garoto se movendo inquieto, sempre com um pequeno movimento, como se ele não conseguisse ficar parado por muito tempo. O sorriso travesso e as risadinhas que escapavam de sua boca sempre que ele puxava uma mecha do cabelo de Chang'e continuavam, mas havia algo curioso nele, como se ele a estivesse observando mais do que ela percebeua.

Enquanto caminhavam, Frenzy de repente deu uma tapinha no topo da cabeça de Chang'e. Era leve, mas a atitude irreverente ainda estava lá, e ele parecia, como sempre, ansioso para chamar atenção.

“Ei, ei, acho que vi o chefe!” Frenesi disse, sua voz rápida e agitada, transportando com cada sílaba. Ele estava tão animado que começou a mover os pés para frente e para trás.

Chang'e olhou para ele com uma expressão duvidosa, tentando processar o que ele queria dizer. "Como você sabe que é ele?" Ela repetiu, sua sobrancelha arqueada enquanto seus olhos examinavam o parque, mas ela ainda não conseguia ver nada fora do comum. Frenzy não respondeu diretamente. Em vez disso, ele parecia tão ansioso que ela mal pudesse esperar. Em um piscar de olhos, ele pula dos ombros de Chang'e com uma velocidade surpreendente, suas pequenas pernas se movem com a agilidade de um felino. Chang'e o encarou surpreso, afinal, a altura acabaria machucando-o quando ele pulasse, mas não foi isso que aconteceu. 

“Espere!” Chang'e exclamou, tentando consegui-lo, mas Frenzy já estava correndo na frente, como se fossem informações detalhadas para onde estava indo. 

Ela acompanhou o movimento dele com os olhos e, ao longo, viu que Frenzy se aproximava de um carro estacionado em uma área do parque onde alguns outros veículos estavam estacionados, mas que, até então, ela não havia notado. O carro era novo, de um tom metálico, algo que fez levantar uma sobrancelha. Parecia caro, moderno e completamente diferente de tudo que Chang'e estava acostumado a ver pela cidade. 

Frenzy chegou tão rápido que ela mal teve tempo de segui-lo de perto. Ele se dirigiu do veículo com um brilho nos olhos, como se estivesse prestes a fazer algo imprevisível — o tipo de coisa que Chang'e notou que Frenzy adorava fazer. Ele estava agitado, mais do que o normal, e seu comportamento frenético parecia aumentado quanto mais perto ele chegava.

Chang'e caminhou cautelosamente na direção a ele. Mas antes que ela pudesse chegar perto o suficiente para dar uma olhada mais de perto no veículo, Frenzy já estava se movendo novamente.

Foi então que ela viu. Outro garoto estava encostado no carro, com os braços cruzados e a postura relaxada. Ele parecia idêntico a Frenzy, mas havia uma diferença clara. Ele estava usando cores diferentes de roupa — uma camisa azul e calças escuras, e a única coisa vermelha nele eram seus óculos escuros, que, como os de Frenzy, escondiam seus olhos. O garoto tinha uma postura mais rígida e parecia estar procurando por algo. Seus ombros eram tensos, como se ele estivesse sempre pronto para qualquer coisa, como se estivesse apenas esperando o momento certo para agir.

Frenesi, que parecia ter sido tomado por algum tipo de comportamento descontrolado, colocou o braço na volta do pescoço do garoto com um sorriso, como se estivesse mostrando algo muito importante.

"Este é meu irmão! Rumble!", ele disse, sua voz tão rápida e cheia de explosão que quase soou como uma explosão de palavras. Frenzy pulou para o lado de Rumble, envolvendo seus braços ao redor dele possessivamente, como se estivesse gabando de mostrar seu irmão para Chang'e. "Ele é tão durão quanto eu! Confie em mim!" 

Rumble, com seus óculos vermelhos refletindo a luz do dia, olhou para Chang'e com um olhar que era uma mistura de suspeita e curiosidade. Ele não parecia particularmente amigável, mas também não parecia hostil. O olhar de Rumble era o tipo de olhar de alguém que, se colocado em uma situação difícil, provavelmente reagiria explosivamente. Ele tinha a postura de alguém que estava sempre pronto para enfrentar qualquer desafio, e a maneira como ele observava Chang'e dava a sensação de que ele estava tentando avaliá-la. 

"Quem é ela?" Rumble disse, sua voz firme e direta, sem rodeios. Ele não estava interessado em detalhes, como se estivesse mais preocupado com qualquer possível ameaça que pudesse surgir. Frenzy deu uma risada curta e inclinou a cabeça para o lado, como se explicasse algo óbvio.

"Ela é..." Frenzy hesitou, procurando por uma palavra, e então soltou um sorriso travesso, "alguém que não vai nos incomodar. Ela vai ser legal conosco, não vai?"

Chang'e, que estava observando a cena com um olhar atento, notou que a dinâmica entre os dois irmãos parecia ser bem diferente. Frenzy era o falante e impulsivo, enquanto Rumble, embora ainda pequeno e com a mesma energia explosiva, parecia ser mais focado que o irmão. 

Ela deu um passo à frente, mantendo seu comportamento amigável e calmo, como sempre fazia. Ela não queria ser hostil ou demonstrar qualquer desconforto, mas queria ter certeza de que os dois não fariam nada que pudesse ser problemático. 

Chang'e observou o carro, uma sensação crescente de estar sendo observado fazendo sua pele arrepiar. Ela não tinha certeza do que estava acontecendo, mas sentia que havia algo mais ali. O silêncio ao redor dela parecia denso, como se o tempo tivesse desacelerado, fazendo até o som das folhas nas árvores parecer abafado. 

Frenzy estava pulando e se divertindo, correndo por aí, mas seu comportamento parecia mais frenético do que o normal. Sua energia era tão intensa que Chang'e mal conseguia acompanhar. Rumble, por outro lado, ficou parado, braços cruzados enquanto a encarava, um sorriso perverso crescendo em seu rosto.

Um peso estava se formando no ar, mas não era óbvio o suficiente para saber de onde vinha. Ela olhou para o carro mais uma vez, as janelas escuras refletindo a luz do sol, tornando impossível ver quem estava lá dentro.

Antes que ela pudesse analisar melhor, seu bolso vibrou.

O toque do celular dela a fez piscar e sair do transe. Frenzy parou de falar e virou o rosto na direção dela, curioso, enquanto Rumble apenas mencionou uma sobrancelha.

Chang'e olhou para o telefone. Era Haoyu.

"Um segundo, rapazes", ele disse, levantando a mão em um gesto indiferente antes de se afastar alguns passos para atender.

Assim que ela deslizou o dedo pela tela, a voz de Haoyu veio do outro lado da linha.

"Chang'e, onde você está?"

A preocupação em sua voz foi o suficiente para fazê-la sentir um pequeno peso na consciência.

"Fui resolver algumas coisas. Está tudo bem", ela respondeu automaticamente, massageando a nuca.

"Ok... Só tome cuidado, Chang'e. Você não precisa sair em privacidade sem me avisar, ok? Eu só estou... preocupado com você."

Chang'e sentiu-se preocupado em suas palavras e não pôde deixar de lembrar a preocupação genuína que ele tinha por ela.

"Não se preocupe, Haoyu. Estarei em casa logo." Ela respondeu em um tom reconfortante, tentando tranquilizá-lo. Ela não queria dar a impressão de que estava em perigo, ou que estava fazendo algo que pudesse assustá-lo.

Haoyu pareceu aceitar o que ela disse, mas antes de desligar, ele fez uma última observação.

"Só... fique alerta, ok? Se precisar de alguma coisa, você sabe que pode me ligar a qualquer hora."

"Claro, eu sei. Obrigada, Haoyu." Chang'e falou gentilmente para a tela do telefone, sentindo uma onda de gratidão por ele, apesar da estranha situação em que se encontrava. Quando desligou a ligação, ela respirou fundo e se virou para as garotas, que de alguma forma parecia ansiosa para ver o que ela faria em seguida. Frenzy até parecia um pouco mais calmo, acostumado com a presença dela.

Ela se sentiu compelida a dizer adeus aos meninos.

“Eu adoraria ficar um pouco mais”, Chang'e disse com um sorriso educado, tentando manter uma conversa leve e amigável, apesar de ainda não haver sido dito entre eles. "Mas acho que chegou a minha hora. É melhor eu ir embora agora."

Frenzy fez um som de decepção, mas logo nasceu novamente, pulando para frente, seus movimentos rápidos e inquietos deixando claro que ele estava, talvez, levemente animado com algo que estava acontecendo em sua mente. Ele olhou para Chang maliciosamente, como se estivesse pronto para lhe dar uma resposta, mas ela já tinha se virado para ir embora.

“Espero que vocês se divirtam.” Chang'e olhou para Rumble por um momento também, sorrindo suavemente. "E tomem cuidado, ok? Não se afastem muito."

Ela não tinha certeza se estava tentando dar um bom conselho ou apenas se sentia inclinada a dizer algo que parecia a coisa certa a fazer. Mas ela se despediu dos meninos de qualquer maneira, que acenaram de volta para ela, com Frenzy alegremente. Ele pareceu um pouco decepcionado. 

Virando as costas para as duas irmãs, Chang'e sentiu algo estranho — uma sensação de estar sendo observado. Seus instintos lhe disseram que ela não estava sozinha, mas quando olhou de volta para o estacionamento, não conseguiu notar mais nada fora do comum. O carro estava lá, estacionado como antes, e tudo parecia inofensivo. Mas, no fundo, havia algo sobre o sentimento de que ela não poderia deixar de ignorar. 

A sensação de que o espelho retrovisor do carro se movia levemente, mais como um reflexo do que uma ação direta, não passou despercebida. Mas antes que ela pudesse pensar mais, ela decidiu que realmente deveria voltar. O chamado de Haoyu ainda ecoava em sua mente. Ela não queria prolongar sua partida, e a sensação de alerta que estava começando a tomar conta dela era algo que ela preferia ignorar por enquanto.

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Chang'e sabia que tinha levado mais tempo do que deveria para chegar em casa. A caminhada até o parque já tinha sido longa, e a caminhada de volta parecia ainda mais cansativa. Ela se distraiu um pouco no caminho, observando a cidade ao seu redor — os prédios altos, o fluxo de carros passando, as luzes artificiais piscando no início da noite. Ela pensou brevemente sobre como tudo era tão diferente de Londres e ainda mais distante de Divastea.

Quando ela finalmente virou na rua onde morava com Haoyu, ela soltou um suspiro cansado. Mas qualquer intervalo que ela sentiu desapareceu assim que seus olhos viram algo inesperado. 

Um carro de polícia estava estacionado na rua. O carro preto e branco era imóvel, com os faróis apagados, e não havia sinal de nenhuma atividade policial óbvia. Não havia sirenes tocando, ninguém do lado de fora questionando ninguém, nenhum movimento brusco. Talvez fosse um policial que morava lá que decidiu aproveitar uma folga no trabalho para fazer algo em casa.

Mas isso não a tranquilizou. 

Chang'e ficou parado por um momento, observando o veículo com cautela. A ideia de que um policial morava perto e estava apenas dando um tempo parecia lógico, mas algo na cena não parecia certo.

O carro estava estacionado do outro lado da rua, estrategicamente posicionado de forma que permitia uma visão clara da casa onde ela e Haoyu estavam hospedados. O motor estava desligado, as janelas fechadas e não havia ninguém visível dentro do veículo. Ela respirou fundo, tentando ignorar a sensação desconfortável que estava crescendo dentro dela.

Ela não poderia se deixar levar pela paranóia. Talvez não fosse nada mesmo.

Com esse pensamento, Chang'e retomou seus passos, mas dessa vez mais lentamente, seus olhos alternando entre a casa e o carro da polícia. Conforme ela se aproximasse, ela tentaria capturar qualquer detalhe suspeito, qualquer movimento que indicasse que ela estava sendo observada.

Chang'e respirou fundo outra vez, forçando-se a relaxar. Não havia nada de errado, nada óbvio, pelo menos. Ela só entrou, verificou se estava tudo bem e continuou com sua noite como se aquele carro de polícia não estivesse ali.

Mas mesmo quando ela se forçou a agir normalmente, uma coisa continuou incomodando no fundo de sua mente. Se fosse apenas uma coincidência, por que ela ainda sentia que estava sendo observada?

Ela forçou os ombros a relaxar, tentando parecer o mais natural possível enquanto caminhava até a porta da frente. O tilintar da chave em sua mão é alto no silêncio da rua. Quando ela se inseriu na fechadura e a girou, sua atenção ainda dividida entre o carro e a casa, um movimento sutil chamou sua atenção.

O espelho retrovisor do carro da polícia. 

Ela se moveu levemente, como se alguém lá dentro tivesse sido planejado para ter uma visão melhor. Chang'e congelou por uma fração de segundo antes de continuar seu movimento, abrindo a porta e entrando rapidamente. Assim que a fechou atrás de si, ela se encostou na madeira, seus sentidos ainda alertas. 

Quem quer que estivesse naquele carro estava observando-a.

Haoyu apareceu na sala de estar um momento depois, seus olhos exibiram uma mistura de preocupação e problema. 

“Você demorou um pouco”, ele disse, cruzando os braços. 

“Eu sei, desculpe.” ela respondeu, ainda distraída.

“Você foi a um parque, não foi?” Haoyu contínuo, franzindo a testa. “O que você fez lá?”

Chang'e piscou, processando a pergunta. Ela percebeu que sua mente ainda estava presa no carro de polícia lá fora, e isso não era bom. Ela agiria normalmente, ou acabaria preocupando Haoyu à toa.

“Fui pegar meus óculos”, ela respondeu, tirando o estojo de óculos do bolso com cuidado. “Eu ia te contar, mas pensei que não demoraria tanto.”

Haoyu suspirou, parecendo querer reclamação, mas decidiu não fazê-lo.

"Ok. Só me avise na próxima vez."

Ela concordou, mas sua mente ainda estava inquieta. Ela deu uma última olhada para a porta antes de ir para seu quarto para guardar seus óculos, tentando ignorar a sensação desconfortável que ainda a assombrava.

Lá fora, o carro da polícia permanente estacionado, imóvel.

E o espelho retrovisor ainda estava virado para a casa.

Chapter Text

Prowl waited quietly in his alt mode. He was monitoring for any suspicious activity or an indication of the glasses.

The Autobot had managed to trace the buyer of the glasses to an organic male called Haoyu Wang Zhao. The young man seemed ordinary by earthling standards, with no criminal record or any involvement in illegal activities. He was a harmless civilian... or at least that's what the files suggested.

However, the same could not be said regarding his family.

Prowl, meticulous as ever, hadn't stopped at the surface. He dug deep - through public and hidden databases, official records and rumors whispered in obscure World Wide Web forums. 

Haoyu's family, it seemed, was involved in one of the branches of what humans called the mafia. It wasn't just any amateur criminal network but a structured group with considerable influence in certain commercial and political sectors on the Asian continent. Haoyu's sire held a high position within the group, with suspicious records related to smuggling, money laundering and bribery of local authorities. His Carrier also appeared frequently, although his activities were more difficult to trace. Prowl suspected that this was no coincidence, but the result of discreet and well-calculated action - perhaps all the more dangerous for that.

Despite this history, Haoyu didn't seem to have any direct contact with such activities.

In the short time Prowl had been observing him—since the previous day, with a brief shift swap with Jazz in the afternoon—the young man had maintained a steady and, to some extent, predictable routine. He woke up at consistent times, prepared simple meals, and only left the house when necessary, usually for appointments related to his modeling job. There was no suspicious behavior, no unusual movements. He was, by all appearances, an ordinary civilian.

Still, Prowl could not ignore the young man’s background. It was a simple calculation: the odds of someone with a lineage so deeply rooted in illicit activities remaining completely unaware of it were low. Not impossible—but low. And Prowl was not one to ignore probabilities.

But what really bothered him—what had him reviewing the data for the twelfth time, recalibrating his sensors and surveillance protocols—was the femme.

The previous night, shortly after the local solar cycle reached what humans called “sunset,” a female figure had approached the residence. Her form was clearly organic, but there was something odd about her movements, something that Prowl's radar couldn't classify. None of the facial recognition or identity sensors could capture any reliable data about her. And the strangest thing: when he tried to connect to the databases—government, private, and even clandestine—in search of records of that visitor, he found absolutely nothing. No photograph, no linked name, no identification number. For all intents and purposes, that femme did not exist.

And that, to Prowl, was unacceptable.

The fact that someone could go completely unnoticed in the systems of a civilization that stored even pictures of meals on social media was worrying enough in itself. But the timing of her appearance made the situation even more alarming. The buyer of the glasses—an artifact that the Autobots knew contained the location of the AllSpark—had been identified, and soon after, an unregistered femme sneaked into the same residence. This was no coincidence. This was a pattern.

She remained in the residence for a full night cycle. The house lights had been turned off at a reasonable time, indicating normal—human—behavior. But there was something about the heat energy Prowl had picked up inside the house: a different signature, one that didn’t quite match the typical human biological pattern. He tried several times to compare it to data from cataloged alien species, but again, he didn’t get an exact match.

“If she were human, the civilian databases would have already registered her. If she were Cybertronian, my energon scanner would have detected her. So… what exactly is she?” he thought, with the analytical coolness that defined him.

Throughout the night, he had positioned himself at a safe distance, sensors active and camouflaged, hidden among parked vehicles along the street. In his alternate mode as a police car, none of the neighbors or pedestrians had any idea of ​​his presence. There was something comforting—almost ironic—about the fact that hiding among the structures and systems of this planet was so simple, so efficient. Humans tended to pay too much attention to the wrong things.

Now, as the new cycle progressed, Prowl continued to wait. There was still no movement in the house, other than the normal flow of power and water, indicators that both residents were awake and active. The energy signal from the goggles was weak but steady. Prowl believed that, as of yet, neither of them understood the true value of the object in their possession. It kept them safe—for now.

But if the Decepticons were tracking the signal as well...then there wasn't much time.

Prowl adjusted his cameras’ focus to the kitchen window. A slight movement indicated Haoyu was inside. And…yes, so was the femme. She moved with familiarity, as if she had already become part of the routine of the house. This worried Prowl even more. The lack of data, combined with emotional closeness to the artifact’s wielder, created a potential scenario for manipulation. Something he had seen happen before—undercover agents, especially of unknown origin, approaching civilian targets to gain information or influence.

Prowl knew he couldn’t intervene openly—not yet. It would break the protocol established by Optimus and could jeopardize the Autobots’ cover on Earth. He needed more data, more observations. He needed to confirm who—or what—the visitor was.

Silently, Prowl filed away all the night’s records and began to build a strategic simulation, calculating the possible consequences should he need to intervene. He had already dismissed, with some relief, the idea of ​​sending the Lamborghini twins to observe in his place. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had no sense of subtlety whatsoever. And Jazz… Jazz was capable but unpredictable. He would probably end up making friends with the humans, or worse.

He preferred to remain there, silent, as an invisible sentinel among the vehicles. Watching. Calculating. 

His sensors detected sudden movement at the front door. Haoyu was coming out of the house—a backpack on his back, cell phone in hand. Prowl automatically activated his tracking protocols, synchronizing himself with local traffic to keep a safe distance. 

The game had begun. And he, as always, was prepared for every move. 

He didn't need to follow directly—not yet. The urban route was predictable. And more importantly, Haoyu's final destination was still less relevant than his surroundings. The Autobot decided to wait. 

He watched and recorded the bus number, the license plates, and the people around. In his internal network, he cross-referenced surveillance data, traffic cameras, and access to city maps. He knew where the vehicle would make its next stops, and what the possibilities were for disembarking, based on the time and direction. 

Meanwhile, his thoughts inevitably returned to the femme. 

An anomaly. He had come across spies and secret agents before, both human and Cybertronian, and he knew that people like that didn't just appear out of nowhere. And if they did, it was because someone was deliberately keeping their tracks hidden. 

"Unstable variable," he muttered to himself, inside his alternate mode. That was when he made his decision. Without taking his focus off the house, he opened a silent channel on his comm-link. The frequency was private—only he and the Autobot he was about to contact had direct access. 

"Jazz," he called, his voice firm and unhurried. "I need you to do me a favor." 

The answer came with the bot's typical energy.

“Look, Prowl! I thought you’d rather handle everything yourself. What happened? The observation schedule was off by 0.003 seconds and now the universe is in danger?”

Prowl didn’t answer right away. Jazz had expected this—his silence wasn’t one of offense, but of calculation.

“I need you to keep an eye on a femme,” Prowl said finally, to the point. “She showed up last night, entered the residence I’m monitoring, and stayed until today. I’ve tried to identify her. There’s no record. None. Like she doesn’t exist.”

Jazz was silent for a few seconds. When he spoke again, his tone was different—more serious.

“Do you think she’s a threat?”

“I don’t know yet,” Prowl replied. “But it’s a variable I can’t accurately monitor while I’m focusing on Haoyu Wang Zhao. She’s organic, or appears to be. But she doesn’t behave like a regular civilian, or like someone hiding her identity. That… seems calculated to me. Like she knows what to avoid to stay invisible. And that’s what bothers me the most.”

“I see.” Jazz replied now with absolute professionalism. “Do you want me to keep an eye on her while you continue with Zhao?”

“Yes. And keep your distance. If she notices she’s being followed, we might lose our advantage.”

“Okay. Send me the exact location and a picture if you have it.”

Prowl transmitted the data he had recorded: a blurry image of the femme entering the house, the time, the movement around her. It wasn’t much, but Jazz would know how to use it.

“Okay. Leaving now,” Jazz said, ending the channel with a curt “I’ll be in touch.” 

Prowl closed the comm-link and stood still, his sensors reactivating at full intensity. He couldn’t afford distractions. Even with Jazz hot on the trail of the stranger, his duty remained with the main object of the mission—the goggles and this young organic with an unremarkable but dangerously unlikely connection. 

If there was one thing Prowl had learned in mission cycles as a strategist…it was that chance was rarely just chance.

☆☆☆☆☆

The soft aroma of fresh coffee filled the kitchen that quiet morning, mixed with the smell of the slightly burnt toast that Haoyu had tried to make in a hurry. The sunlight filtered lazily through the half-open shutters, casting golden stripes across the light wooden floor and the white marble surface of the worktop where he sat.

Haoyu was distractedly chewing on a slice of bread with jam, the mug of hot coffee beside him, while watching Chang'e from the other side of the bench. The woman - or rather, the strange figure who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere in his life - was completely absorbed in her glasses. Those same old, rusty-looking glasses, with scratches on the glass and marks of use so old that they seemed to have come from another era.

She handled them with almost reverent care, as if every detail had a hidden meaning. Sometimes she turned the glasses sideways, squeezed one of the temples, and muttered something to herself in a language unknown to him. At other times she would just stare at them as if trying to remember something she had lost a long time ago. Her eyes flickered with concentration, and the slight tension in her posture indicated that she wasn't just curious - she was searching for something there.

Haoyu, still not understanding exactly why she was so interested, found it both amusing and intriguing. There was something childlike in Chang'e's enthusiastic expression, a sparkle in her eyes that was at odds with her usual coldness. As if, for a few minutes, she forgot about the world around her and immersed herself in a much broader thought than he could comprehend.

“Is there something there that you understand?” he asked, trying to make conversation, leaning his elbow on the worktop. “Like... do you understand what it says? Because to me it just looks like a broken pair of glasses.”

She didn't answer straight away. She just looked up for a moment and stared at him with that indecipherable look that he was beginning to recognize as typical of her. Then she looked down at her glasses again, muttering something like “No...” before falling silent again.

Haoyu let out a light laugh through his nose and shook his head, about to take another sip of his coffee, when the cell phone in front of him vibrated with a sharp ring. The screen lit up, displaying an unknown number. He frowned.

“Who could that be...?” He mumbled, wiping his fingers quickly on a napkin before swiping to answer.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Mr. Haoyu Wang Zhao?” The female voice on the other end was professional, a little hurried.

“Yes, it's me,” he replied, trying not to sound confused.

“This is Beatrice, from the VogueLine Models agency team. We're getting in touch because there's been a last-minute setback. One of the main models booked for this afternoon's shoot has fallen ill, and we need an urgent replacement.”

Haoyu blinked.

“Ah... Right. It's downtown, isn't it?”

“Exactly.” the woman confirmed with a tone of relief. “We got some good recommendations from you and we think your profile is a good fit for what we need. The shoot is with the team from Emergent Layers' new fall/winter collection, at a studio on Franklin Avenue. Would you be available to show up within two hours?”

Haoyu glanced quickly at the wall clock. It was fifteen minutes to nine.

“Yes, yes. I can go, of course,” he said, now a little more alert. “I just need a few minutes to get ready and catch the bus.”

“Perfect. I'll send you the full address and directions by message. If you need transportation, we can try to arrange a staff car, but it would take a while to arrive.”

“No problem, I'll manage,” he replied, getting up from his chair.

“Great! See you soon then, Mr. Wang Zhao. Thank you for answering so quickly.

“No problem, see you later.”

As soon as he hung up, Haoyu let out a long sigh and looked at Chang'e, who had finally raised his eyes with a slight arch of his eyebrow.

“I have to go,” he announced, running a hand through his hair. “One of the models was missing and I've been asked to fill in. It's my first official rehearsal here.”

Chang'e didn't say anything immediately, just watched in silence as he walked around the bench and into the hallway in search of his backpack. She then spoke, her voice calm and direct:

“You look nervous.”

“I am nervous.” he admitted, laughing awkwardly as he buttoned up his shirt and tried to remember where he had left his perfume. “I wasn't expecting this today. I thought I'd have a quiet day... coffee, the sofa... watching you play with those old glasses.”

She lifted one corner of her lips slightly, as if she found it amusing.

“It'll work out,” she said simply, before returning her eyes to the glasses. “Don't overthink it. Just do what you know how to do.”

Haoyu paused for a moment in the doorway, watching her. He couldn't tell if it was advice, an order or just a comment. But the tone of her voice... somehow reassured him.

He finished getting ready in a hurry, took out his cell phone, confirmed the location of the studio and decided to go to the nearest bus stop. It wasn't far. The walk would do him good - maybe it would help calm his nerves.

Before leaving, he paused briefly in the doorway and looked at her one last time.

“Try not to disappear while I'm gone, okay?” he said lightly, half-joking.

Chang'e raised her eyes once more and replied with a vague nod. He didn't promise. But he didn't deny it either.

With a final sigh, Haoyu left the house, the sound of the door closing softly behind him. The sun was now shining more brightly and the city was coming to life. He didn't know, at that moment, how profoundly his life was about to change - and that those seemingly ordinary hours hid watchful eyes watching his every move.

Despite his calm appearance, inside Haoyu's heart was still racing. It wasn't every day that he received a last-minute invitation to replace someone at an important rehearsal, let alone on foreign soil, far from everything he knew.

While waiting at the bus stop, leaning against the small metal shelter with glass sides, Haoyu took his cell phone out of his pocket and double-checked the address he had texted. The location didn't seem difficult to find, and he had checked the bus timetable minutes before leaving home. Even so, anxiety made him refresh the screen repeatedly, as if that would make the bus arrive faster.

Then a familiar sound - the rumble of a more robust engine than usual - captured his attention.

Haoyu raised his eyes on instinct, only to see a police car driving slowly down the street in front of him. The car was classic black and white, except that instead of the symbol of the local police force emblazoned on the doors, there was a red, half-square symbol. The headlights were off, and the vehicle moved slowly, as if it were just patrolling, calmly observing the neighborhood.

Haoyu frowned slightly. That car looked strangely familiar. Not just because it was an ordinary police car - there was something specific about it. The identification number on the side, the pattern of lights on the roof, even the way it moved. For an instant, his memory made an association.

Could it be... the same car as yesterday?

 The one Chang'e had mentioned when he got home.

He remembered the slightly uneasy tone with which she had said it. Chang'e rarely seemed uncomfortable about anything, and yet that night she had arrived more tense than usual, looking out of the window frequently. She had even taken a few minutes to enter, as if waiting for something to pass.

Curiosity grew in his chest. The car seemed to be in no hurry, almost as if it were deliberately making its presence felt. But why? This was a quiet neighborhood. Residential. Apart from one or two barking dogs or a distracted neighbor dropping his garbage, nothing really happened there.

But even as I tried to push the thoughts away, the uncomfortable feeling persisted. Something was strange. As if that car was watching... and not just passing by.

When the bus finally turned the corner, Haoyu swallowed and straightened his posture. He couldn't be late. He couldn't let himself be distracted. It could just be paranoia - maybe an off-duty policeman passing by, or a simple coincidence.

He boarded, presented his ticket and sat down by the window.

The bus rocked slightly as it passed through the city streets, causing Haoyu’s thoughts to wander as he watched the cityscape pass by outside the window. It was a stark contrast to his neighborhood—here, in the center, the city seemed to breathe faster. People hurried along the sidewalks, tall buildings stretched toward the sky, and the constant sound of horns and quickened footsteps formed a near-constant backdrop.

Haoyu rested his chin on his hand and blinked slowly, his eyes following the signs of shops, crowded cafes, and billboards that flashed with vibrant colors. The sun had risen higher, reflecting off the windows of the buildings and making it difficult to look directly at some parts of the street. 

Finally, the bus came to a stop with a slight jolt. A sharp sound signaled the doors opening. Haoyu stood up, adjusted the strap of his backpack on his shoulder, and calmly stepped off. 

The air here was warmer, heavier. The smell of the city was more pronounced—smoke, coffee, asphalt, and some street food that someone must have just bought. 

He adjusted the collar of his jacket and began walking, the mental map of the route to the studio still fresh in his mind. It was only a few blocks away, and he would have enough time to get there at his leisure.

As he walked, trying not to look out of place in the rush, Haoyu allowed himself to look around curiously. Everything here seemed so different from what he was used to—the colors, the accents, the rhythm. Still, it was a good feeling. A beginning.

Until something interrupted this brief enchantment.

As he turned his head slightly, his eyes fell on a police car parked across the street. It was identical to the one he had seen on the street back home, and his gaze was drawn to the symbol—the same square with firm, angular lines, discreetly stamped on the side of the car, as if it were part of the standardization... but it wasn't a police symbol. It wasn't on any of the patrol cars he'd ever seen around, nor on the uniforms of local police officers. 

He stopped for a second on the sidewalk, the cars passing in front of him while the traffic light was red for pedestrians. 

Was it the same patrol car? 

He couldn't say for sure... but his intuition left no doubt. A growing discomfort tightened his stomach. If it was the same one, then the vehicle had followed him here. And that put him on alert. The car's windows were dark, too opaque to allow him to see inside. No movement. No visible presence. But the feeling of being watched came back with force. Like a silent presence whispering in the back of his neck. Swallowing hard, Haoyu looked away and crossed the street as soon as the light allowed, trying to keep his expression neutral. His fingers, however, tightened the zipper of his backpack. He wasn't paranoid. He'd always trusted his instincts — especially after years of hearing stories from his family and learning, even if by force, to recognize when something seemed wrong. And all of this was wrong.

As soon as he reached the other sidewalk and was out of direct visual range of the police car, Haoyu briefly leaned against a wall and discreetly opened his backpack. Pretending to be looking for something trivial, he pulled out the small black taser he always carried in case of emergencies—a gift from his mother, given as naturally as someone handing him an umbrella.

He looked around once more before discreetly slipping it into the inside pocket of his denim jacket, adjusting the fabric over it so that it wouldn’t be obvious. He took a deep breath, trying to regain his focus.

“Nothing’s going to happen. They’re just patrolling…” He muttered to himself, more to calm his own heart than to believe his own words.

But the feeling of being watched wouldn’t go away. As if there were a pair of eyes hidden behind each dark window. As if that police car wasn’t just a police car.

Haoyu adjusted his backpack on his shoulders, ignoring the shiver running down his spine, and continued on. The studio wasn’t too far away now.

Haoyu finally reached the studio entrance. The modern glass-paneled facade reflected the gray city sky, and the agency’s metallic logo gleamed in the dim afternoon light. He paused for a moment in front of the doors, taking a deep breath. He tried to clear his mind—to dispel the nagging thought of that police car, the strange symbol, the invisible gaze that seemed to have been following him since early morning.

“It’s just a coincidence. That’s all,” he thought, adjusting the strap of his backpack on his shoulder. “Focus. This is your first shoot in the United States. Don’t ruin it now.”

With a firm step, his heart beating faster than he cared to admit, Haoyu pushed open the glass doors and entered.

The interior was bright and bustling—assistants scurrying around with clipboards, models chatting next to racks of clothes, stylists adjusting fabrics, and makeup artists setting up their stations. The air had that familiar smell of hairspray mixed with stale coffee and the faint hint of anxiety shared by everyone in the creative space.

A receptionist, with alert eyes and hair tied in an elegant bun, noticed him approaching and offered a professional smile.

“Haoyu Wang Zhao?”

He nodded, taking off the hood of his jacket.

“That’s right. I was called to replace someone in today’s rehearsal.”

“Yes, of course, you’re right on time,” she said, checking something on a tablet. “You can go down that hallway to the right, second door on the left. The photographer’s name is Marcus. He’s already there with the team. Oh, and you can leave your backpack in the room too, just don’t forget to take your valuables out.”

Haoyu murmured a thank you, forcing a smile, and followed the instructions. As he walked down the modern hallway, with photographs of past editorials hanging on the walls, he tried to shake the tension from his shoulders once and for all.

But… it wasn’t that easy. He could still feel the weight of the taser in his jacket pocket. The uncomfortable feeling of having been followed followed him like a shadow, insistent and silent. He arrived at the designated room and pushed open the door. The space was large, with strategically placed lights, different colored backgrounds, and a small team gathered around a laptop and some equipment. The photographer, Marcus, looked up when he saw him.

“Oh, you must be the replacement. Haoyu, right?”

“That’s right.” He calmly took off his jacket, carefully folding it to hide the pocket where the taser was kept. “Sorry for the delay.”

“No problem. We’re just warming up.” Marcus smiled. “Let’s start off light. Today’s concept is urban, relaxed. We want naturalness, so feel free to improvise with your movements. White shirt, dark jeans. The stylist will prepare you.”

As one of the assistants handed him the clothes, Haoyu finally felt a brief moment of peace. This was his comfort zone. The studio, the lighting, the clicking of the cameras. He knew how to deal with that.

Maybe paranoia was just that — paranoia.

But even as the session began and the flashes illuminated his face, the strange symbol on the side of the police car still stuck in the back of his mind. Like an unanswered question. A doubt slowly gnawing away, promising not to go away any time soon.

During one of the breaks in the shoot, while the photographers reviewed the last shots on the monitor and the assistants adjusted the lights and equipment, Haoyu allowed himself to breathe. He sat on one of the high stools near the makeup table, pulling the collar of his shirt slightly to cool off from the heat of the spotlights. A glass of ice water rested in his hand, and for a moment, he tried to tune out everything around him—the police car, the symbol, the strange premonition that seemed to whisper in the background of his thoughts.

That's when someone knocked on the studio door. The sound was light but clear, contrasting with the bustle of busy professionals. One of the assistants, distracted, walked to the entrance with his clipboard still in hand and pulled the door open with an automatic gesture. 

And then she appeared. 

The first thing that caught Haoyu's eye was the colors. Her presence seemed to have a glow of its own, as if she had stepped out of one of those cartoons he used to watch with his sisters. Her hair, dyed a light, soft pink, fell in decorated waves down to her shoulders with a small bow that matched the rest of her charming aesthetic. Her skin was very pale, like porcelain, which made the heart-shaped eye patch that covered her right eye even more striking - a peculiar detail, but no less charming. 

Her left eye, which was visible, was a deep greenish blue, almost ethereal, and seemed to observe her surroundings with a mixture of curiosity and sweetness. She was wearing a pastel-colored dress with short sleeves and lace that contrasted with her boots, which tinkled softly with small pendants with every step.

“Hello…” she said in a low, polite tone, almost as if she was afraid of interrupting something. “ I've brought the flowers for the shoot. They're from the Chloris flower shop. The order was in the name of the stylist, Mei.”

The assistant with the clipboard came forward and indicated a nearby table, thanking her with a hasty smile. But Haoyu's world seemed to stop for a second.

He couldn't explain exactly why. Perhaps it was her voice, sweet and spontaneous, or perhaps the way her gaze passed through the studio until it found him by chance. It wasn't as if he had fallen in love - not yet, perhaps - but there was something about her that pulled him in, like a familiar melody that he couldn't quite identify. It was the presence. The silence. The simplicity. And the way that, when she casually glanced in his direction, her gaze didn't run away like so many others. Instead, she held his eyes for a few seconds - just long enough for him to feel something.

She seemed surprised to see him there. Perhaps even a little uncomfortable with the attention she was inevitably beginning to receive from the team. One of the stylists, curious, commented aloud:

“Oh, it's you again! You're always so good with your arrangements, aren't you?”

“Thank you,” she replied with a slight nod, not smiling, but with kindness evident in her gaze.

Haoyu stood up, perhaps on impulse. He picked up a bottle of water from the counter next to him and walked slowly over to where she was finishing arranging the bouquets.

“Hi... sorry to ask, but... do you work around here?” he asked, trying to sound natural.

The girl turned her face slowly, her visible eye meeting his. She didn't seem uncomfortable with the question, just... thoughtful. Evaluating.

“I work in a flower shop in the back street,” she replied, her voice soft, calm, with a slight accent. “ Chloris is the name. We deliver to the studio from time to time.”

“Ah.” He blinked, feeling a bit silly. “ I'm new here. I don't know the area that well yet.”

She nodded, as if she had already imagined it. A silence stretched between them, but it wasn't exactly uncomfortable. Just... quiet.

“Haoyu,” he said, offering a small smile. “ My first photo shoot here. In fact, it's my first since I arrived in the country.”

“Welcome,” she said simply, without much sparkle in her intonation, but with a clear sincerity in her gaze.

“And you are...?” he asked, trying not to sound intrusive.

“Camellia.” That's all she said. There was no surname, no flourishes. Just the name, said as if it were enough.

Haoyu nodded, repeating it mentally. She finished arranging the flowers, checking that the ribbons were in place, the stems adjusted. She took an almost ceremonial care with the flowers, as if it were more than just work.

“They're beautiful,” he commented, pointing to the bouquets. “ Did you put them together?”

“Yes.” She hesitated for a moment, then added: “ I usually put most of them together. But I don't take part in the photos, if that's what you're thinking.”

Haoyu laughed, surprised at her frankness. And a little embarrassed that he had actually asked himself that question.

“It didn't even cross my mind.” he lied with a smile, trying to ease the tension. “But... I understand. Even with that stylish eye patch?”

Camellia let out a light laugh.

“Yes, even with it. Good to know that someone else finds it stylish.

Another silence. But this time, Haoyu wished it would last. It was comfortable there, even without words. As if they were somehow on the same page. The stylist came up to them, quickly signing a delivery sheet while thanking the florist. Camellia took the sheet with a subtle nod, turned to Haoyu once more - and finally said:

“Good luck at the rehearsal, Haoyu.”

“Thank you... Camellia. - He liked how her name sounded.

And she left. Without making a sound, without looking back. Haoyu stood still for a few seconds, watching the door through which she had left, with an expression that was difficult to decipher. He still didn't know the city. He still didn't know how the studio worked. He still didn't understand why that police car kept turning up at the worst times. 

But now there was one thing he knew for sure. He wanted to see that girl again. 

Camellia. 

He repeated the name mentally as he walked back to the center of the set, trying to pretend that he could still maintain the same concentration as before. But the truth was that her image - the pink hair, the heart-shaped eye patch and the sweet smile - had settled firmly inside him. And he had no idea when, or if, he would get out of there.

When Haoyu left the studio, the sun was already beginning to set in the sky, painting the tall buildings with shades of gold and orange. The heat of the day was giving way to a milder breeze, which gently ruffled the folds of his jacket as he walked along the sidewalk, his shoulders still slightly tense.

The shoot had been long—and a little longer than he had expected—but it had gone well. At least he hadn’t tripped over anything, struck an awkward pose, or left a bad impression. Still, his mind was restless. Part of it came from the fact that this had been his first official assignment since arriving in the United States. The other part… was the police car.

It hadn’t shown any signs of appearing near the studio, but Haoyu still couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. Even now, with the city pulsing around him—horns honking in the distance, voices crossing, hurried footsteps—he found himself casting discreet glances behind him.

“It’s just paranoia,” he thought, trying to calm himself. “You didn’t get much sleep, it was a tense day… It’s not like the police have anything against you.” He sighed and stopped at the corner to check the bus schedule on his phone, planning his way back home. But before he could make a decision, a soft scent reached him: flowers. He turned his head and noticed the flower shop on the corner—the same one Camellia had come from earlier. Now that he was outside the studio, Haoyu could take a closer look at the storefront. It was small but charming, with hanging pots and an impressive array of colors visible through the window. It didn’t look flashy at all, but something about the simplicity of the place had a curious charm. He hesitated for a moment, his eyes fixed on the flowers… and then smiled slightly. He didn’t know if he would have the courage to go inside. Not yet. But the place had meaning now. Crossing the street, he stopped for a moment in front of the flower shop. Inside, he could see a silhouette—Camellia, perhaps, arranging an arrangement with calm movements. The pink bow in her hair stood out even from a distance. For some reason, the sight of her in such a delicate and organized space calmed some of his anxiety. The tension in his shoulders eased. After a few more seconds, he continued on his way to the bus stop. But just as he was about to sit down on the bench at the bus stop, something in his peripheral vision caught his eye. A car. Black and white. He couldn't help it. His gaze fixed on the police car quickly turning the corner, its tires gliding silently over the asphalt. For a brief second, he was sure it was the same one from before. The symbol on the side... the same shape. Haoyu's heart skipped a beat. He discreetly reached for his jacket pocket, where he had put the taser earlier. He didn't take it out—he just touched it with his fingers, as if to make sure it was still there. A kind of silent reassurance. The car had driven straight up the street, away from him, but even so, Haoyu was only able to truly relax when the bus arrived.

He climbed in, chose a seat at the back, and leaned back, watching the city through the window as it blurred away. Outside, the lights were slowly starting to come on, as if the world were preparing to change its face once again. And although he wanted to tell himself that it was all a coincidence, that the flowers and the girl with the eyepatch and the strangely present police cars were just disjointed pieces of a big city...

A part of him, deep down, knew that something was starting to move.

And he was right in the middle of it.

Haoyu let out a long sigh as he turned the corner and finally saw the street where he lived. For a moment, he stopped at the curb and looked around carefully, eyes scanning every corner as if he expected, once again, to see that black and white car there—parked, motionless, watching.

But there was nothing but a silver car on the street.

He relaxed his shoulders and laughed softly, to himself, feeling his body finally allow itself a little relief. The day had been long, tense... but at least for now, he was at peace. Haoyu carefully unlocked the front door, pushing it open slowly as if he didn't want to disturb the comfortable silence inside. The warm air of the house immediately enveloped him, a welcoming contrast to the coolness of the evening outside. 

"Chang'e?" he called, taking off his sneakers and dropping his backpack against the wall.

The house seemed quiet, but alive. The kitchen light was on, and he heard the faint sound of papers being shuffled—or perhaps something more delicate, like a lens being adjusted or a thorough cleaning. He followed the sound and found her sitting at the kitchen table, surrounded by a small, organized mess: notebooks open, her glasses as she studied them on a towel, a nearly untouched cup of tea. She looked up as soon as she saw him, her expression a little worried. 

“Hey,” she began, holding up a finger to ask something. “How was it back in the—” 

“I think I’m in love.” Haoyu spoke so suddenly, in such a direct and calm tone, that Chang’e froze, the question hanging on her lips. For a moment, silence fell between them, thick as hot steam. 

She blinked, confused. “…Huh?” 

“I think I’m in love.” he repeated, this time smiling slightly, leaning against the kitchen door frame as if he were emptying his lungs of all the tension of the day. “Or, I don’t know, starting to fall in love. But it was fast. Too fast.” 

Chang’e stared at him as if he had just spoken another language. 

“Did you meet someone?” 

“Yes.” He nodded, throwing his jacket over the back of a chair before dropping into the other, facing her. “She showed up at the studio during a break. She was delivering flowers. A girl with pink hair, with a heart-shaped eye patch. Camellia, her name.”

 Chang’e raised an eyebrow, slightly skeptical. “A florist, maybe?” 

“Yes, and calm, and kind of ethereal, you know?” Haoyu ran a hand through his hair, laughing at his own enthusiasm. “I know it sounds stupid. We barely exchanged half a dozen words. But... there was something there. I can’t explain it.” 

Chang’e leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms.

“Wow. You went to a rehearsal and came back with a crush.”

“Yeah, it happened. And the worst part is that I’m serious.” He tilted his face, calmer now. “You know when someone walks into a place and for a moment it seems like all the other sound fades away? It was kind of like that.”

Chang’e was silent for a few seconds before he huffed out a discreet laugh, shaking his head.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“I know.” he said, with a more restrained smile. “But… I needed to tell you. I don’t know why. I just needed to.”

She watched him for a moment longer, and even with the skeptical tone, there was something in his gaze that softened. Maybe it was the familiarity. Or the fact that, despite everything, Haoyu still managed to get excited about little things — even after a day full of suspicions, police cars, and tension.

Chang’e sighed, looking back at the glasses on the table.

“If she leaves you heartbroken, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“I’m sure you will. But for now, she’s just left me… curious.”

And there, in that kitchen lit by soft light, the weight of the day seemed to finally dissipate.

“But what were you going to say before? I ended up interrupting you.” Haoyu said, leaning back in his chair, still with the soft smile on his face, his eyes intent on Chang’e.

She hesitated, her lips pursing slightly. For a moment, she just stood there, staring at the mug in her hands as if the words were written on the bottom of the tea. Then she took a deep breath, straightening her shoulders a little, as if preparing to say something a little silly, but important.

“I was thinking…” she began slowly, her voice calm but tense. “Maybe we should buy a car.”

Haoyu blinked in surprise and laughed a little, confused.

“A car? Do you want to learn how to drive?”

Chang’e shook her head quickly.

“No. It’s not that. I wouldn’t even be able to get a driver’s license on this planet, and you know it very well.” She said, crossing her arms, a soft sigh escaping. “I don’t want a car for myself. I want one for you.”

Haoyu frowned.

“For me?”

“Yeah. I know you said you could find a way, take the bus, walk, that you’d manage… But, Haoyu, this is starting to bother me. Not what you do, but what I don’t do.” She paused and looked him in the eye. “You’ve helped me so much. You’ve taken me in, shared your home with me, protected me even from your own government. And the least I wanted was to be able to give back. But I can’t go out, I can’t get a job, I can’t even explain what’s happening to me.”

She leaned back in her chair and looked out the window, the golden light of the late afternoon reflecting in her eyes.

“But I can do that. Try to help you buy a car. For you. Something that will make your life easier, that will help you get to places more safely and calmly. You deserve that, Haoyu. You don’t have to keep doing everything the hard way just because I’m here, stuck, unable to help the way I’d like. Ever since I started to understand things around here, I’ve been feeling bad because my skills are useless for anything.” 

Haoyu was silent for a moment, his eyes fixed on her. The seriousness in Chang’e’s words affected him more than she could have imagined.

“Chang'e...” he began, his voice low. “You don't have to prove anything to me. Really. I don't want you to feel bad just because things are a bit messy right now.”

“It's not about proving anything to you,” she replied, her tone firm. “It's about taking care of you, like you are taking care of me.”

Haoyu felt a slight tightening in his chest, a kind of silent gratitude. He smiled slightly and held out his hand.

“Then we'll look at it together, okay? A used car, practical, economical. No neon or aler... ok, maybe a bit of neon, if it's discreet.” he joked, trying to break the mood.

Chang'e chuckled, shaking her head.

“Haoyu...”

“I know, I know. Nothing flashy. But really? Thank you. For thinking of it. For even thinking of me.”

She just nodded with a small smile and shaking his hand, at that moment, they didn't need to say anything more. The decision was made.

“If you prefer, and if i get a free day this week,” Haoyu started. “We can go look for one.”

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