Robots in the snow

Thin snowflakes kiss my nose as I cycle over Oliven’s icy roads. It is not as though I planned to be out in these conditions, but as my slightly combed brown hair flows through the wind, my mind drifts far from the cold biting at my face. The North has always had a rough climate - snow is more common than sunlight, even in summer. Over generations, we’ve adapted. Food is grown indoors under controlled conditions, and water comes from melted snow filtered through specialized systems. Outsiders - if any even exist - might wonder how we survive like this. But as someone who’s lived here all my life, I’d say it’s not as bad they’d think. According
to my calculations, no more than a hundred people live in this town, which means there aren’t too many mouths to feed. Besides, the older folks eat less, so food shortages have never been much of a problem.

The frequent snowstorms that ravage over the town of Tondra leave an eery atmosphere. As I pedal over the icy roads, the tires of my bike - designed with extra-large grooves and thick rubber - grip the ground to keep me upright and minimize the chance of slipping.
Most of the houses I pass are abandoned, their walls sagging and windows cracked, giving the streets an almost haunted feel. I remember my parents talking about the town’s future when I was younger, wondering if staying here was even worth it. For most of my life, I have ignored the idea of knowing what might lie beyond this place. What happens outside doesn’t affect me here - right? Yet, as I’ve grown older, a flicker of curiosity has begun to spark.
Is it this snowy everywhere, or are there places where snow never falls? What’s life like beyond Tondra? These are questions I’ve never found answers to, and deep down, I doubt I ever will. At the end of the day, I’m stuck here. There’s no realistic way out.

Life in Tondra reflects its population. We only went to school until we were twelve, followed by homeschooling until eighteen. After that, most kids either followed their parents’ trades or tired to carve out a path of their own. Years ago, according to my dad, a traveler passed through town with a cart full of books. They weren’t your standard novels or school textbooks,
though. Instead, they were about engineering, robotics, technology and mythology - subjects few of the adults cared for. But for the kids, myself included, they sparked something new. In a place where weather limits almost everything, I threw myself into the study of robotics and electronics. For me, building things wasn’t just a way to pass the time, it was a way to create something meaningful in a town that often felt empty. Of course, living in Tondra means news from the outside world barely reaches us. My father used to say, ”Being intelligent is smart, and being ignorant is bliss.”
His words might’ve shaped my perspective more than I’d like to admit. I’ve come to believe that knowing everything isn’t the key to moving forward. After all, why take on the world’s burdens when I’m already busy enough on my own.

”Kaito!”
A voice cuts through my thoughts as I near the hangar. Looking up, I see a figure in a warm, pink winter jacket.
’Taki? I thought you didn’t have to come in today.”
”I didn’t,” she replies with a grin, ”but I felt like it. Trouble with the arms
again.”
’Seems like you’ll never catch a break,’ I tease. ’Why don’t you let me
handle it? Go home, warm up.’
“I’d love to, but I can’t leave all the work to you, can I, Kaito?”
I smirk. ’Fine. Then I guess you’ll see my brilliance first-hand. I’ll prove
once and for all I’m the smartest person in town.’
She laughs. “Considering how few people live here, I doubt anyone would
argue with you.”
Taki has been part of my life for as long as I can remember. Like me, she’s fascinated by robotics and technology. We have been told that generations ago, this town was renowned for its technological advancements, but over time, the talent left, taking their knowledge with them. That didn’t stop us. We turned the abandoned hangar at the town’s edge into our own
workshop, a place to build, experiment, and dream. I prop my bike against the hangar’s rusting exterior and push open its small gray door. The familiar smell of metal and rust fills my nose, and for a moment, excitement bubbles in my chest. The hangar - once a factory - still holds kilometers of conveyor belts, assembly lines, and machinery left to decay. Three large rooms at the back were likely used as offices or break spaces, but we’ve turned them into dumping grounds for broken parts and tools. Clearing them out is something we’ve talked about for a long time but never gotten around to. I had always wondered what they could have developed here, but since it has been left to rust here for so long, I doubt it was anything interesting or impressive.

The crunch of snow under Taki’s boots fades as she steps inside behind me. “I know I need to fix the arms,” she says, “but is there anything you’re working on?”
’I want to reprogram the stabilizer software for the WS-30,’ I reply. ’It’s been a while, and I think I’ve come up with some improvements.’
She tilts her head. “I’m sure it’s fine as it is, but knowing you, there’s no point trying to stop you, is there?”
I ignore her comment, unsure if she means it positively or not. The WS-30 is my latest robot, something I’ve been working on for over a year. It can walk, but its balance needs improvement - it constantly topples over after a few steps. Updating the stabilization system has become a necessity, but I’m still figuring out how. Advanced parts would help, but
unless I find a way to make them myself, I’d have to travel to another city to get them - a nearly impossible task. I often wonder how far the scientists from generations ago got with their work. Did their robots walk like ours? Some part of me doubts it. Taki and I use small computers we’ve built to program the robots. I’ve nicknamed them “robot manuals.” By using
assembly code, we can control the robots’ movements. The downside is that it’s time-consuming. The programming itself is a delicate task - balancing memory, preventing overflows, debugging errors. I’ve failed more times than I’d like to admit, but that’s part of the process.

1.1
The hum of the COTE-2 - short for ”Computer of the Era, version 2” - flickered to life as I powered it on. The screen confirmed today’s date: November 15th, 2029. A cascade of blinking lights illuminated the display. On the left side, the computer listed the connected robot’s name, each created file, and the total uptime of the machine. I had designed this interface myself, ensuring any anomalies would be immediately apparent. Though it wasn’t the most advanced system, the books I’d scavenged and my own experimentation had pushed it as far as it could go. While the machine booted, my eyes flicked over to Taki.
She wasn’t as skilled with technology as I was, but her determination could rival anyone’s. I’d taught her the fundamentals, and though she stumbled at first, she quickly became competent - enough to ease some of my own workload. I envied her focus sometimes; she had a knack for honing in on a problem with relentless energy.
“Kaito!” Her voice snapped me out of my thoughts. “I think I’ve fixed the arms, but something else is wrong. The axle in its legs seems jammed, and the software’s control system... it’s been completely reset.”
I froze, processing her words. A malfunctioning axle wasn’t unusual, but a full system reset? That was rare. I had included an emergency reset feature for worst-case scenarios, but the likelihood of it activating accidentally was slim.
‘Are you sure you didn’t press something by mistake while fixing the arm?’
I called out, my tone sharper than intended. From ten meters away, I could see her glare - daggers aimed at my pride.
“Give me some credit! I might mess up occasionally, but I’m no amateur, Kaito.”
Not in the mood for an argument, I suggested, half-jokingly, that perhaps someone had tampered with it. Taki raised a brow, unimpressed. “If you’re implying it was you, I’ll remind you that I know exactly how to dismantle your robot, bend its legs into pretzels, and program it to self-destruct at the slightest touch.”
Threat noted.
I sighed and walked over to inspect her robot. Taki, in her whimsical way, referred to it as the ”Adorable but Sweet Robot That Looks at You With Delight.”
Not exactly a name - more like a descriptor a child might come up with. Sure, it was smaller than my WS-30, and its compact frame could be considered “adorable,” but at the end of the day, it was still a hunk of welded metal. Before I could ask questions, Taki rattled off a quick briefing. “None of the code is integrating with the robot’s hardware. I’ve tried retrieving backups from yesterday, the day before, even last week - nothing shows up.”
‘Sounds like I didn’t integrate version control properly,’ I said with a smirk.

Her glare returned, sharp as ever. ‘Let me take a look at it,’ I offered. As I examined the situation, a myriad of thoughts ran through my mind. Software-hardware mismatches weren’t uncommon. After all, different programming languages and machinery often clashed. Still, everything had been working fine until today, so what had changed? The robot’s functions
seemed intact on the surface. Taki had even gone to the trouble of adding comments and documenting her work - a courtesy I rarely extended to myself. Maybe she was onto something with that habit. ‘The code looks fine,’
I concluded. ‘The problem must lie elsewhere.’
Her computer, nearly identical to mine, displayed the usual interface: flashing lights, file names, and the robot’s designated acronym, “ABSRTLAYWD.” What caught my eye,
though, was the uptime. Fourteen hours, twelve minutes, and forty-three seconds.
‘Your computer’s been running for over fourteen hours,’ I said, narrowing my gaze.
‘That means it powered on around 9 PM last night. Care to explain what you were doing out here so late?’ Taki’s face turned defensive.
“I wasn’t out last night! Do you think I’d risk wandering around in the dark just to tinker with this metal shaft?” Shaft? Not ”adorable”?
Interesting shift. Still, her point stood. If she hadn’t been here, then how had the computer turned on?
‘Fair enough,’ I said, deciding to believe her. I could always ask her parents later if this turned into a bigger issue. For now, I needed to focus. I gestured at the screen.
‘The most likely explanation is that the system booted itself overnight. I’ll need to comb through the software to figure out why. And since the integration isn’t working either, there’s probably more going on here than we initially thought.’
Taki’s only response was a simple, “Okay.” Not the reaction I was hoping for, but knowing Taki, I
should’ve expected it.
‘You won’t be able to work on your robot today,’ I said after a pause. ‘I’ll handle it. My WS-30 can wait.’
“That doesn’t seem fair,” she replied, crossing her arms. “It’s not your fault, so why should you be stuck fixing it? You don’t think I can do it myself, do you?”
One wrong word, and I’d be walking out of here without arms - or worse, with my robot in pieces. I chose my words carefully.
‘I would never suggest that,’ I said, keeping my tone diplomatic. ‘But someone with your talents shouldn’t waste time on routine fixes. Your expertise is better suited to more complex problems.’
Taki smirked, shaking her head. “Always so logical, aren’t you, Kaito? Fine, I’ll let you play the hero. I’ll go home, make some tea, and curl up with a book. Try not to break anything.” Knowing she was trying to provoke me, I simply nodded.
‘Enjoy. Take care of yourself.’

As she left, I turned my attention back to her robot. Whatever was happening here, it wasn’t just a software bug. Something - or someone - had tampered with it. And I was going to find out what. After Taki had taken her bag she proceeded to leave the hangar. The heavy metal door thudded shut behind her, the echo rippling through the hangar before fading into silence. Now alone, I could finally focus.
’Let’s get to work,’ I muttered to no one but myself. I had already formed a plan the moment I realized the extent of the issue. I wasn’t about to tell Taki that, though - she’d only be frustrated that she couldn’t figure it out herself. She liked to act confident, sometimes even arrogant, but
deep down, I think we both knew I had more experience with this kind of thing. That didn’t mean I wanted to discourage her. In fact, I wanted the opposite. If anything, I wanted her to believe she could match me, to feel capable. Maybe it was because I knew she had been through a lot - more than I had, even - and if I could help keep her on the right path, I would.
As these thoughts drifted through my mind, my hands worked automatically. I copied her code, pasted it into a temporary folder, restored the computer system’s backlog, reset her changes, combed through the kernel for irregularities, and reloaded everything. Next, I physically reset the motor controls, tested the arms and axles, and reconnected all the electronics.
It took about forty-five minutes in total. Not bad, considering how long it
might have taken Taki. The effort left me feeling drained, so I decided to take a break. My work on the WS-30 could wait until tomorrow. I pulled out the rice and vegetables I had brought, eating without hesitation. It wasn’t gourmet, but it was enough to keep me going for the rest of the day. With Taki’s robot now functional, she wouldn’t need my help anytime soon, giving me time to focus on my own work. Yet, even with a moment of peace, my thoughts wandered.
I imagined the world beyond Tondra. Not just in passing, but vividly - what it looked like, what it felt like. Was there something more out there waiting for me? More than just this hangar, more than just endless days of repairs and programming? The idea of exploring beyond this city, of
discovering what lay past the borders, grew stronger in my mind. Shaking off the thought for now, I decided to finally clear out the left storage room at the back of the hangar. Taki and I had ignored it for so long that it probably held things untouched for years. Navigating through the cluttered workspace, I climbed over conveyor belts and stepped around stacks of rusted parts before reaching the door. It groaned in protest as I pushed it open, the hinges stiff with neglect. A flick of the light switch revealed a dim, cold space. My breath misted in the air.
Instinctively, I pulled my jacket tighter before stepping inside. The room was a mess. Rusted tools, broken machinery, and heaps of metal scrap littered the floor. I tapped one of the old machines, sending a cloud of dust into the air, swirling like a child rushing toward a parent after school. Cleaning wasn’t exactly my favorite task, but it had to be done.
Hours passed as I cleared out debris, shifting crates, pushing old parts into piles, and sorting through what little seemed salvageable. By the time it was the late afternoon, I was ready to call it a day. But just as I turned to leave, something caught my eye. A faint glow, barely visible in the dim light. Curious, I made my way toward it, brushing aside old components and tangled wires until the object was fully revealed.

A block of ice. No larger than a breadbox. But it wasn’t ordinary ice. It couldn’t be.
The temperature in the room was cold, but not freezing - nowhere near cold enough to sustain a solid block of ice. Yet, it sat there, not melting.
Faint streaks of blue pulsed within, like frozen lightning. A soft hum radiated from it, and the air surrounding it crackled with static.
I hesitated, then reached out. A sharp sting snapped against my fingers before I could touch it. I recoiled, shaking out my hand as a tingling sensation spread up my arm. My hair stood on end, charged with unseen energy.
’What... is this?’ I muttered. Crouching down, I examined it more closely.
Tiny arcs of electricity danced along the surface, flickering into the air like fireflies before vanishing. The ice should have been melting, but it remained as solid as ever. I had never seen anything like this before. Not in Tondra. Not in any of the books I had studied. 

Driven by curiosity, I pulled a screwdriver from my pocket and moved to chip away a small piece. But the moment the metal neared the ice, a sudden pulse of light surged outward, forcing me to drop the tool. I took a step back, my heart pounding.
’Okay. . . maybe not the best idea.’
There was no doubt about it. This thing - whatever it was - was not natural. It didn’t belong here. But if that was the case... how did it get here? And more importantly - where
did it come from? The shimmering blue streaks within the ice seemed almost alive, pulsating with a rhythm like veins carrying some unseen energy. Clearing out the storage room had uncovered a surprising number of tools I didn’t even know we had, but after what happened with the screwdriver, I figured it was best to keep my hands off this thing for now.
’Taki would want to see this,’ I muttered under my breath.
But then again, what would she even make of it? I had no idea what I was looking at myself. There was no logical explanation for something like this.
As I focused on the ice, a faint but distinct click broke the silence.
I spun around.

A figure emerged from the shadows - a person cloaked in darkness, their sharp features barely illuminated by the pale light reflecting off the ice.
Then, a manly voice spoke.

“It seems those with responsibility have chosen the one with such a belittled life to be the one.”

His voice was smooth, almost mocking, slicing through the air like a knife.

"I wish you the best of luck."

I wanted to ask who he was, how he got here and what he meant, yet once I was finally able to speak he had already left. The eeriness of his presence disappeared, leaving me with only the cracking of ice. My mind scrambled for answers, but nothing made sense. His voice did not sound familiar, so he must have come from outside the town. As I was contemplating who the mysterious person could be, I instinctively walked back and crouched as to sit on a chair. Had I been concentrating, I would have realized that there was nothing to sit on. Once I made the motion to sit down, I felt a sudden jolt near my feet. A charge.
I barely had time to whisper, ’Oh no’, before my heel struck the ice.
A surge of energy exploded through my body. A blinding flash of light consumed everything.

It was so bright that I wanted to close my eyes, but my body didn't let me. It was as someone was forcibly holding them open so that I would see what was happening. The continuous exposure to the light gave my eyes and the back of my brain a burning feeling. The entirety of my surrounding started changing. Everything became... ice. The room I was just standing in disappeared. The walls on which the dim light shun looked like they melted away. After what seemed like an eternity I was finally able to close my eyes again.
Once the burning feeling went away, I reopened my eyes, only for me to see that the world I knew was gone. I looked down at my hands. My feet. Nothing seemed wrong. I was still me. But everything else... was different. When my gaze faced forward, I noticed that I was standing on an endless expanse of ice, its surface shimmering with flowing currents of electricity. Beneath my feet, veins of light pulsed like a heartbeat. There was a soft sound in the air that sounded like someone breathing.
The hangar was gone, and converging in the distance was a path leading to a massive, towering tree. It was difficult to see due to the brightness of the environment, but its trunk was carved from ice, twisting toward the sky with an unnatural elegance.
It glowed, an inner luminescence radiating outward, shifting between hues of blue and green. Electricity crackled along its sprawling branches, arcing like fleeting stars. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I took a cautious step forward. The ice beneath me hummed, alive with energy. This was like the block of ice in the hangar - only more. More powerful. More vast. And, strangely, it didn’t seem to resist my presence. Behind the tree, faint shapes loomed in the distance - mountains, smaller trees - but the sheer brightness of the place made it difficult to see clearly. And yet, despite the strangeness of it all, I felt... calm.

I took a deep breath, expecting the cold air to sting in my nose and lungs. Yet it didn't, and the oxygen that flew through my body was lukewarm. I should be terrified, shocked, terrorized, but I could not even remember what it felt like to have such emotions. My mind was clear, with no memories of pain or despair. As if I belonged here.

What even is this place, I murmured softly to myself.

I couldn't just be standing around though. I had to get closer to the tree. but as I was walking I noticed that it was not cold. Based on the landscape it should be freezing, but I felt no stings on the exposed parts of my body.  with each step the veins of energy beneath me flickered and shifted, as if they were following my presence. The goal was to reach the tree, and as intriguing as it was, the the landscape around it was just as, if not more interesting looking.
From my initial position I could not see much, but once I reached the top of a small hill just astray from the main path, there was clearly a lot more to be explored. To the East of the master tree, as I referred it to in my mind, there was a rather large forest. In it each tree consisting of a similar consistency as that of the tree towering all others. Just to the west of the master tree there was a large lake with its water frozen. 'If only I could show this to Taki' I said out loud. What I was seeing with my eyes was absolutely stunning, and after pinching myself multiple times I realized I wasn't in a dream.
All that happened had made me really tired though, so I decided to sit down underneath one of the ice trees of which the ends were glowing a darker green. I could stare it for hours, but that was not what I was here for. I am still unaware of the reason why I got send to this place. Maybe I was not even able to return to Tondra, to everyone I love.

I recall the words the mysterious man said to me: “It seems those with responsibility have chosen the one with such a belittled life to be the one.” I wonder why he said these. I could not argue with the fact that my life hasn't been the most exciting, but why would that matter? I've been given responsibility, but for what? If only mister mysterious explained some of the details, I would not have to figure it all out by myself.
As the questions wandered through my mind, the three rustled right above me. There was no
gust of wind at the time of the sound, so I opened my eyes and looked.
It was then that I shrieked.
’A sloth!?’ I shouted it out loud, and my vocal cords immediately burnt.
”A human!?”.
Wait it spoke!
I jumped up, and unbeknownst of the existence of tree branches, I hit my head, shattering parts of the tree. Pain surged through my entire body and I swear I could hear someone laugh from behind me. I cursed to myself for doing something so stupid. I turned around to indeed see a sloth hanging from the branch in the tree.
’A sloth!’
The grey creature proceeded to climb from the branch to the stem of the tree, and slid down to the ground. I wasn’t all too familiar with sloths, so I couldn’t tell whether he did something normal. At the least, it did look funny. When he reached the ground, he very slowly turned. They weren’t fast, but this slow? When he faced the right direction, he came walking
over at me, and spoke at the same time.
”Human, if you are here, some great ordeal must have taken place.”
He spoke again. It was a surprisingly heavy voice for the size of the creature, but based on where I am, it didn’t actually surprise me too much than animal was speaking to me.
'Even if a great "ordeal" has taken place, I promise you that I do not know of anything, that I have no idea why I am here, what I am supposed to do, and worst of all, why there is a talking sloth!?'
"I can't argue about the last point, just know that I didn't expect you to be able to speak either. I'm the only one here, so I never had the chance to interact with anyone." His otherwise content face seemed to show some sort of a smile, even if it was just faint. "Although first of all, whether or not you can believe it, you do have the privilege of speaking to me, Aard. There is not too much I can explain to you about the current situation, but there are some thing things I know about this place. Most importantly, this world, called a Virenic domain, reflects the state of mind of its owner. The calmer your mind is, the more stable it is. The longer your mind is out of control, the worse this world will be.”
I guess there was some form of logic to that. In one of the history books I read as a child there was a mention of a god who decided to rule over a world based on how he felt. If somebody had been mean to him, he'd bring terror to the planet, even though the people living on it had no influence over his emotions. I couldn't imagine how it'd be having to live in a world like that, but I guess I am in that God's place now. As I was pondering, a pair of beady black eyes was staring at me continuously. It made me a little uncomfortable.
'So what am I to do in this place? I am not from here and I'd like to come back to my own world in the not too distant future.' I am still tired from all the work I've done today, so all I wanted was a nice warm bed and a cup of tea.
"Am I correct in saying that this is the first time that you are entering this world?"
'You are correct.'
"Then I guess your business is with the big tree over there." Aard slowly raised his paw towards the overarching tree. "I cannot tell you what to do there, or what will happen next, and as such, I wish you the best of luck".
With a vague sense of nostalgia I departed from Aard, not knowing whether or not I'd ever see him again. It still felt weird to see a talking sloth, but who knows, maybe all the sloths in the world can talk?
The closer I got to the tree, the more imposing it became. It wasn't before too long that I reached its base. Electricity flickered from it similar to the block of ice before. I hesitated before reaching out a hand. Then I saw it - green sparks flickering between my fingers and the ice, the same kind of energy flowing through the ground. It was just like before. I pulled my hand back instinctively, but then clenched my jaw. I needed to know. I bit my lip and reached forward again. The moment my fingers touched the surface, pain tore through my arm. Green lightning shot out in every direction, crackling like a storm. But I didn’t let go. I held firm.

And suddenly -
The pain stopped.
The ice was cold beneath my palm. Then, from beneath my feet, the glowing blue veins turned a striking neon green. A surge of color spread outward, consuming the entire tree. The branches shifted, electricity dancing wildly between them, now brighter, now different. It was as if the tree itself had awakened. I stumbled back, breath caught in my throat.
 A sharp burst of pain tore through my skull. I cried out, clutching my head as the searing agony overwhelmed me. It was worse than anything I had ever felt, a pressure that crushed my thoughts, my senses - everything. I squeezed my eyes shut, gasping, barely able to think through the pain. I begged for it to stop.
And then -
Darkness.

The last thing I remembered was collapsing onto the glowing ice, my mind slipping into the void.

1.2
As it was a Tuesday, I started my morning routine as normal. When I looked outside, the snow was pouring down as it usually did. For my morning routine I always make up my bed, put up my hair in a ponytail and wash my face. When I came downstairs my father was already preparing breakfast for the both of us. He was a hard-working carpenter who, together with one of this friends, took care of most of the woodwork that had to be done in the town. Stables, sheds, beds and tables. Nothing was impossible for these men, which also inspired me to become good at working with technology. I am still far from the abilities he has, but with my current progress, it shouldn’t take more than a few years to get to his level.
With Kaito by my side I also had someone that I could come to with any question, though much of the personal talk stayed cold between us. I am sure that the both of us could do with some personal talk once in a while. To vent about our problems and our feelings, and to discuss and fantasize about our dreams. We knew the general situation about each other, but there are still many things I have not told him about.

Something he knows about is my current family situation. A few years back we still had breakfast with the three of us, but two years ago my mother passed away from a hemorrhagic stroke caused by a ruptured brain aneurysm. It was a normal weekday when my dad shouted to me in the evening that they had to get to the closest hospital as soon as they could. Due to Tondra’s size, there was no hospital here, meaning we had to go to the closest city to get help at the hospital there. My mother apparently had a severe headache, worse than she had ever had, prompting my dad to take immediate action. We had anything but a sports car, so getting to the hospital would take at least an hour, and before we knew it, it was too late. In the car her pulse stopped, indicating that her body and spirit had given up. My dad had stopped the car at the side of the road. His face buried in the steering wheel, tears flowing down without question. There was nothing he could have done about it, yet he has always made himself accountable for what happened. Her funeral was a week later, and it was the first time that Kaito had given me a hug, one that I needed, one that I had always wanted.

Since then it was that not only Kaito, but also the other people in town have kept an eye on us to make sure we had been doing alright. As Kaito was the same age as me, I could not blame him for not always talking about feelings anyway. He had the potential to become an exceptional engineer and intellectual, but that always came with a price. Scientists could argue about whether the amount of information we can store in our brains is infinite or not, but no one could argue that some are more adept to emotion than others. The most of us could understand when someone was hurt, sad or happy, but not everyone knows how to act when an other exposes such emotions. He has never hurt a fly, and although from the outside it looks like we bicker with each other, from our perspectives it was nothing more than fun play. We had to make the best of it in this town, and since there were not that many people from our age, we were sort of pushed to become friends as our parents knew each other. Had we been so different, we would have probably ended up not being together so often, but I guess that some parts of our personalities and interests do align.

As I was done with my breakfast, I stood up and signaled to my dad that I was ready to go. With a piece of bread in his mouth I saw he tried to wish me good luck, yet it was more a collection of mumbled words. My hope was that Kaito had been able to finish the problems I had with the robot yesterday, meaning today I could continue working on the walking mechanism of the robot. I left the house, took my bike from the shed and started to cycle. The roads were, as usually around this time, slippery and hard to navigate. The knowledge I have gained of the streets are helping me out greatly here, as without it I would definitely fall in one of the piles of snow. Due to the weather it took me around half an hour to get to the hangar. Kaito’s bike was still there, but it was almost entirely covered with snow, and from I can remember, in the same place as yesterday. This was interesting, but no need for concern yet. He could’ve come to the hangar a lot earlier today. He was very eager to get working on this robot after all, and yesterday he was not able to work on it properly either. I put my bike next to his, and proceeded to enter the hangar through the small door. The light was on, and so it seemed like he really was already working on the robot. As I walked through the cavernous space, I instinctively glanced toward the area where we kept the robots. But Kaito wasn’t there. I frowned. That’s weird. The hangar was big, but there weren’t many places to hide. He had to be close. I turned the corner, heading toward the back rooms, when I froze. My eyes widened. Kaito lay sprawled at the entrance of the left-most room, motionless. My scream echoed through the empty space, louder than I thought my voice could go. My legs moved on their own, stumbling over themselves as I rushed to him. I nearly tripped but caught myself just in time, falling to my knees beside him. His head lolled as I lifted him gently onto my lap, my arms wrapping around his limp body.
“Kaito, are you okay? Kaito!” His face was deathly pale.
His skin felt colder than the icy floor beneath us. Even my own frozen fingers were warmer than his cheeks. I pressed my hand against them, trying to transfer any heat I could. I looked around wildly. The room was almost completely cleared out. I hadn’t checked the robots earlier, but now that I was here, I could tell - he’d been cleaning up. Had he been working alone all night? My throat tightened.
”Kaito, please, wake up!”
Tears welled in my eyes, slipping down my face and vanishing against the cold metal floor. The last time I cried like this was at my mother’s funeral. Not the night she passed - back then, I hadn’t understood. I sat in silence, my body numb, my mind unable to grasp what had happened. But now? Now, I understood too well. Then I saw it. His eyes fluttered open, barely a crack. And for the briefest moment, they glowed. Deep blue-green irises, streaked with electric blue and white. I stopped breathing. The cold dug into my skin, numbing my hands, but I ignored it.
“Stay with me, Kaito,” I whispered, pressing my trembling fingers against his neck, searching desperately for a pulse.
It was there. Weak, but there. Relief and terror clashed inside me.
I glanced around, searching for anything that could help. The room was still cluttered-machines, tools, unfinished projects, but nothing useful right now.

Think, think!

I took off my coat with speed and wrapped it tightly around him. His body was too cold, his breathing too shallow.
“Hold on, Kaito. Don’t you dare leave me.”
His sharp, usually determined features looked so fragile now, like glass on the verge of breaking. The hangar was eerily silent, except for the faint hum of the overhead lights. Then my eyes landed on something - the heater control panel, mounted on the far wall. If I could get it running at full blast, it could warm up the room. Without a second thought, I laid Kaito down as gently as I could, my coat still cocooned around him, and dashed to the panel. My fingers fumbled with the controls, shaking so badly I almost couldn’t press the right buttons.

Come on, come on -

The heater sputtered, then roared to life. A blast of warm air flooded the space, cutting through the chill. I ran back to Kaito and dropped to my knees beside him. “Kaito, wake up,” I begged. My voice cracked. “Please, wake up.” His lips parted slightly, but no sound came. Tears blurred my vision. I wiped them away roughly. I couldn’t break down. Not now. Then I saw it - the faintest flutter of his eyelids. My heart leapt.
“Kaito? Can you hear me?” I asked, leaning closer.
His eyes opened a sliver, the familiar irises tinged with streaks of blue and white. The sight was mesmerizing, almost unnatural, but it wasn’t the time to dwell on it. His lips moved, but the words were inaudible. I leaned in further, straining to hear.
“. . . cold. . . ”  he whispered, his voice barely audible.
“I know. Just hang in there,” I replied, brushing a strand of snow dampened hair from his face.
“Help is coming.”
But how? I had no idea how to get help quickly enough.
The roads were treacherous, and our town wasn’t exactly known for emergency services. The memory of my mother’s final moments surged to the forefront of my mind. I had been powerless to save her, and now the same fear gripped me like a vice. No. Not again. I refused to lose someone else. A sudden thought struck me.
The old emergency medical kit - the one we kept in the hangar for accidents - was it still there? I sprinted to the storage cabinet near the far corner of the room. My hands fumbled with the latch, and for a terrifying moment, I thought it was stuck. With a desperate yank, the door finally gave way, revealing the dusty red box.
I grabbed it and hurried back to Kaito’s side. The kit was ancient, but it
had a thermal blanket and instant heat packs. I tore them open, wrapping the blanket around him and pressing the packs against his chest and under his arms.
“This will help, I promise,” I murmured, more to reassure myself than him.
As I worked, my mind kept returning to the peculiar glow in his eyes. It wasn’t normal - not for anyone. A strange unease began to creep over me, mingling with my panic and determination. What had
Kaito been doing before I found him? The room he’d been in wasn’t just cleared out; it was almost sterile, as if he’d been preparing it for something specific. And those sparks of blue and white... they weren’t just in his eyes. For the briefest moment, I thought I saw them flicker across his skin, like tiny bolts of electricity. “Kaito,” I whispered again, my voice softer now.
“What happened here?”
His lips moved once more, but before I could decipher the words, his eyes drifted shut again. Panic surged through me.
“No, no, no! Stay with me!” I shook him gently, willing him to open his eyes again.
The distant sound of wind howling outside reminded me of how isolated we were. No one was coming. If I couldn’t revive him soon, I didn’t want to think about what might happen. And yet, in the back of my mind, a darker question loomed: Was this just an accident? Something bout the scene - the cleared room, the eerie glow, and Kaito’s condition - felt off. As if there was more to this than I understood.
For now, though, all that mattered was keeping him alive.

As Kaito lay there, teetering on the edge of consciousness, an unexpected surge of energy radiated from his body. I instinctively took a step back as faint blue and white sparks intensified, cracking like static electricity.
Then, a voice broke the silence.

“It seems you have been able to take care of him well. Don’t you worry, I’m sure he is a lot tougher than he looks.” There had been no one else in the hangar before. I turned sharply, my breath catching as I found myself staring into a pair of deep purple eyes.

“It is a pleasure to meet you." His voice echoed through the hangar as he bowed a at a precise thirty-degree angle. My own eyes widened, trying to understand what was happening.
“You must be quite shocked to see Kaito in the state he is, and to then see some stranger talking to you like they’ve known you all their lives.” His smirk held an air of amusement.
”That boy lying there is special. Or rather, he’s going to become special.

“What...?” That was all I could manage. The man chuckled.
“No need to be alarmed, dear lady. There is much to understand, and your presence here might actually be fortunate. If I had to take care of him myself, it would’ve been quite a challenge. After all, I don’t share the..., what would you call it, deep feelings, you have for him.”
I stiffened. Who is this guy? My mind raced as I shouted, not particularly at the adult in front of me, ”I should grab Kaito and get out of here - run as far as possible and never come back!”
His smirk deepened. “And leave all this beautiful machinery here to rust?”
He waved a hand around the hangar. “You’re free to do as you please, of course,” he continued, “but given the conditions outside, I’d wager you wouldn’t make it more than 500 meters before things got... difficult. Not that I doubt your survival skills, but consider this a friendly piece of advice.”
His casual confidence made my skin crawl. “I don’t know who you are, but standing here with that smug face isn’t helping me or Kaito. If you have nothing useful to say, then leave.”
Despite my hostility, he remained unfazed. Everything about him, from his sharp, black attire to the bold red fedora - seemed designed to attract attention. Clearly, he wasn’t from around here.
“Can I at least ask what you’re doing here? You’re not from this town. How did you get here? And how do you know about Kaito?”
He chuckled, shaking his head.
“That’s a lot of questions, miss. I suppose I can answer one, though I’d advise against prying too much into my affairs.”
He adjusted his fedora slightly. “As someone close to Kaito, it seems you have potential to be a vessel as well. He wouldn’t have chosen someone incapable, after all.”
A vessel? What the hell does that mean? “There are many reasons why I’m here,” he continued, his tone light yet unreadable.
“I can’t reveal much, but I was sent to observe your dear friend’s condition. If he had died yesterday, well... he wouldn’t have sufficed as a vessel in the first place.” I frowned.
“You keep saying ‘vessel.’ What does that even mean?”
“Ah, I knew that would catch your interest.” He tilted his head slightly.
“Kaito is a rather unique organism on this planet. Perhaps you’ve noticed his intellect during the years you’ve spent with him? Yesterday, he underwent a rather perplexing experience.
“He will be exposed to things neither of you have ever seen or imagined,” the man continued. “So, if you ask me what a vessel is, I’ll answer with one word: opportunity.”
He turned, adjusting the cuffs of his coat.
“Looks like he’s waking up. I’d rather not overstay my welcome, so I’ll leave you with that, Miss Yaono.”

And just like that - he was gone. No sound, no movement. One moment he was there, the next... nothing. I barely had time to process his words before a soft murmur pulled me back to reality. Kaito’s face had regained some color. As I knelt beside him, he stirred, blinking groggily. 'Taki...? Why are you here?'
His voice was hoarse. 'Ugh... my head still hurts.'
A sharp wave of relief crashed over me. Tears, which had long dried, returned in full force. Without thinking, I wrapped my arms around him. “You idiot,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “Never make me worry like that again.”

It took some time before Kaito could sit up. He winced, rubbing his temples. 'My whole body hurts... especially the right side.  I-I don’t remember much of what happened. I know I started clearing the room, and then... stuff just happened.'
I hesitated. Should I tell him about the purple-eyed man?
No. My gut told me that man was involved in all of this. But until I had answers, it was best to keep it to myself. For now, Kaito needed food. I handed him the lunch I had prepared, and he accepted it gratefully. 'Thanks, Taki.'
“For what?”
'For saving me. And for giving me your food.'
I waved him off. “It’s only natural.”
He chuckled. 'Still... you could’ve given up on me. It’s not nothing.'
"Then do me a favor," I said, crossing my arms. "Watch yourself next time. I was lucky to get here in time, but who knows what might happen in the future?” He mock-saluted.
'Understood, ma’am.'
Then, after a pause, he smirked. 

I guess neither of us knew of what happened to the other.
It made me realize that everything really can be gone in the blink of an eye.
It is a scary thought, but a realistic one.

                                                               Both were born different
                                                              Both had different youths
                                                              Both saw various things
                                                              Yet together they were 
            - Kagusa Naka