WINDOW

After 3 hours, Abraham entered the room where Lua was, with a plate containing 2 eggs, a piece of bread and sliced ​​tomatoes. The girl was sleeping deeply, but it didn't seem like a peaceful sleep. He put the plate on the table in front of the sofa and grabbed Lua by the shoulder and started shaking her, whispering to wake up. She slowly opened her eyes, but was startled by the blanket on her.

“A ghost" she shouted!

"A ghost?" Abraham asked. "You must have had a bad dream. How are you feeling?"

"Tired...and confused" she replied.

“Of course. I brought you some food. Unfortunately, I didn't prepare much today, but you can take all of it. I hope it's enough.”

“Why are you so nice to me? Because of the adapter?” Lua said with a hint of regret in her voice.

“No, it's not that." he said in a warm and gentle tone. "Your adapter is impressive, indeed, but you have to take care of it. Don't show it to many people because they'll want to take it.”

“To take it? But it's a tattoo, right?”

“Right, but it can be stolen and that would put you in danger. But let's not think about that now. My name is Abraham and I'm the head of the adapter engineering team in this section. Who are you?”

“I am Lua...” 

Abraham looked into the eyes of the girl who said a few words and stopped. She seemed to be thinking intensely, but then she let out a cry for help.

“AND I KNOW NOTHING ANYMORE! ABSOLUTELY NOTHING ABOUT WHO I AM!” she said as tears streamed down her face.

“Hey, hey! It's okay! We'll find a solution together.”Abraham added while patting her head.

“Thank you very much, Mr. Abraham! I am extremely grateful to you." Lua said while wiping her nose with his handkerchief.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Over the next week, Lua stayed close to Mr. Abraham. She learned about adapters and the world they were living in.

“The first stars were born. And with them — the real shaping of the cosmos began. And the shape of the most powerful source of all - the stardust. The dust is called by many names - stardust, cosmic dust, space dust - fuel needed to power everything in space.” explained Mr. Abraham.

At the workshop where he was working, they were mostly fixing adaptors, but there are big companies that store and sell stardust. Many buy it to shape it as they need it. After a very rigorous and long process, the stardust becomes malleable. Multiple companies took it as their responsibility to collect the dust and sell it. Naturally, the price of star dust differs based on the age, quality, applied filter and so on. Stardust is the cosmic remnant of dead stars — atoms of carbon, oxygen, iron, calcium — which is exactly what makes up the bodies of living beings. The older the stardust, the more powerful it is. The biggest families buy huge quantities or own entire factories that process stardust. The main purpose? The production of weapons.

Weapons made of stardust defies common logic - you can shift it however, if you like a gun, it can be a gun, if you like swords, it can be swords, but you have to train to use it the way it`s best suited for you.

The really wealthy ones can afford to buy star dust and then offer it in exchange for services. And this is how space works. Cosmic dust is everywhere, but the procedure to make it usable is so costly and hard, that now it turned out to be the most valuable commodity out there. Anybody can buy stardust, but it doesn't mean they will be able to do anything with it if they are not trained to use it. In order to use it, one must channel it and create power otherwise it will be just a loss of money. However, there are special devices that allow users to store vials of stardust. These devices are mainly used in the military.

“Mr. Abraham, do you know how to use stardust?”

“No, Lua, I don't know. The training to accustom your body to stardust is quite long and only available to soldiers in the army, the equipment is far too expensive and doesn't help me in shaping the adapters. So I chose to make works of art on the skin of the beings who come here. Each adapter must be defined, a complete circle, free from imperfections! Each adapter tells a story. It holds a symbol that suggests - I was there -. The adapter is a way of identification, it is personal, sublime, perfect!” His tone betrayed a complete passion for this job he called art.

“It's impressive how passionate you are, Mr. Abraham!”

He laughed softly. "Did you remember anything else after heraing this?"

Lua looked down and closed her eyes, after a few seconds she added:

"No, not really, but when I close my eyes I feel a pressure in my head. I'm honestly glad I got here. I don't know what happened, but I think this is the best place I could have woken up."

"Don't force yourself," he said sympathetically and with a warm smile on his face.

“I wonder if there's a faster way to regain my memories.” Lua said as she put her hand under her chin.

"I'm glad you asked, Lua." His tone became very serious. He began to walk around the workshop and because he kept talking, Lua was forced to follow him. "You see, this workshop has become small for you in just a week."

Mr. Abraham pointed to the work benches where the workers were processing adapters. On each bench there was a tablet, and they were drawing signs and symbols on this tablet. Their responsibility was to improve their handwriting so as not to make mistakes when they put the symbols into the adapter. Even the slightest mistake could destabilize the adapter and make it non-functional. Calligraphy was a very important part of these workshops.

Walking further, the two entered the area of ​​the rooms where these adapters were placed on the skin. The beings came to the salons of the workshop to imprint or remove signs from their adaptors. Behind the closed doors they passed, there were so many tattoo experts doing amazing symbols. The pain felt on the skin varied from person to person. Behind a door, Lua could hear a casual conversation, halfway down the hall she could hear laughter, probably the tattooed area was ticklish. Further down the corridor she could hear screams, a sign that the symbol was difficult to make or that the person in question had no resistance to pain.

Moving on, Mr. Abraham explains that his workshop ends after you get past the large sections. On the upper floors there were office rooms, toilets and a dining area, but nothing more than that.

"You won't be able to grow if you stay here," he said and stopped in front of a huge window.