CHAPTER 1: Departure of the Trio of Troublesome.

Elio opened his eyes.

The world was a blur of muted colors and swimming shapes. A heavy, suffocating warmth pressed down on him, but it was nothing compared to the surge of pain that radiated through his entire body. It felt as though his ribs had been replaced with shattered glass, and every breath sent a sharp spike of agony through his chest. His face throbbed, the skin tight and swollen, the taste of dried copper thick on his tongue.

A high-pitched, relentless ringing filled his ears, drowning out the world.

He tried to blink, forcing his eyes to focus. He was lying on the worn fabric of the living room sofa. Above him, the ceiling beams of the farmhouse swirled in and out of focus. He turned his head slightly—a movement that cost him a fresh wave of pain—and saw a tall, blurred figure standing near the window.

It wasn’t Papa. Papa was broad and steady. It wasn’t Mama. This figure was lean, wearing a long coat.

The figure was speaking to Mama, but the words were muffled, as if Elio were underwater.

Elio let out a low, involuntary groan.

Instantly, the blurry figure stopped talking. Mama rushed over, her movements fast and frantic. She knelt by the sofa, her hands trembling as she gently pressed against his shoulders, pushing him back down.

Elio’s eyes widened slightly, a flash of instinctive confusion crossing his bruised face. Why did you do that?

As the ringing in his ears finally began to fade into a dull hum, his vision cleared. He looked up at Mama. Her gray eyes were rimmed with red, pinkish from crying. Dried tear streaks carved paths down her cheeks, and her hands wouldn't stop shaking.

Elio tilted his head back against the armrest, looking past her. He saw the tall man fully now. He had a forgettable face, a brown coat, and sharp gray eyes.

He was a stranger.

"Mama..." Elio’s voice was barely a rasp, a low, gravelly sound laced with groans of pain. "Who is this man?"

Mama looked down at him. Her expression softened, though the fear was still a shadow behind her eyes. She reached out, her calloused fingers gently brushing the messy black hair from his forehead. She offered him a fragile smile.

"This is Moran," she said softly. "He's... he's here to help."

Elio shifted his gaze, trying to move his head as much as his battered body would allow. He looked toward the window.

Papa was standing there, holding baby Hope securely against his chest. But Papa, the strongest man Elio knew, the man with the wooden leg who never backed down, was trembling. His arms shook as he rocked the baby. He was staring out the window, his eyes hollow, lost in a nightmare.

"Papa..." Elio whispered.

Papa didn't hear him.

Elio swallowed hard, forcing his voice to rise despite the fire in his ribs. "Papa."

Papa blinked, snapping out of his trance. He turned his body toward the sofa, taking a few hesitant steps forward. "Yes, son...?"

Elio looked at his father's eyes. He saw the way his brow was furrowed, the way his jaw was clenched tight to keep his lip from trembling. He saw the sheer terror in the way he held Hope.

"You are scared," Elio said. It wasn't a question.

Papa opened his mouth, and for a second, a flash of defensive anger crossed his face—the instinct to be strong for his son. But he swallowed it down. He forced a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"No, I am not scared," Papa said, his deep voice wavering. "I am just... afraid of losing my family."

Elio’s eyes widened slightly. He looked from Papa, to Mama, to the tiny baby in Papa's arms. The weight of those words settled over him. Family is more important above all. Even above your own life.

A polite cough broke the heavy silence.

"Sorry for interrupting this... whatever is going on," Agent Moran said, stepping forward. He paused, his gray eyes shifting between Mama and Papa. "But I need to talk to Elio privately, if that's okay with you two."

Mama looked up at Papa. A silent conversation passed between them—a shared look of fear, and trust, and exhaustion. Finally, Papa nodded.

Mama stood up, her knees cracking. "You both may talk privately," she said, her voice steadier now.

She walked to the door, and Papa followed, carrying Hope. They stepped out onto the porch, closing the wooden door behind them, leaving Elio alone with the stranger.

Elio tilted his head up, the muscles in his neck screaming in protest. He looked at Moran.

"So?" Elio prompted, his voice flat.

Moran raised an eyebrow. He crossed his arms, studying the battered boy on the sofa. "I'm surprised you aren't rushing, or upset, or crying at all right now. Why?"

"Panicking doesn't help with anything," Elio replied, his eyes never leaving Moran's face. "Thinking things through helps more than panicking."

A ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of Moran's mouth. "You sure are smart. Even though you are the clumsiest, most reckless kid I've ever seen... you're admirable."

Elio's eyes narrowed, his expression hardening. "Please. Let's get to the point."

Moran’s smile vanished. He nodded, his posture shifting into something more serious. "Right. I know a boy like you isn't going to give up on finding her. Especially after you screamed a promise like that into the mud. But... you don't know where they are taking her, do you?"

Elio nodded stiffly.

"I am going to help you," Moran said.

He reached into his coat and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He walked to the living room table and spread it out. It wasn't a digital map on a screen; it was a physical, weathered paper map, rare in this day and age.

Moran looked back at Elio, then froze. He scratched the back of his neck, an awkward, apologetic chuckle escaping his lips. "Ah. Sorry. I forgot you are injured."

Elio’s face twisted into a deep frown. "Really... stupid."

"HEY! Watch it, kid! Do you want my help or not?!" Moran barked, though there was no real heat in it.

Moran sighed, walking over to the sofa. He slipped his left hand under Elio's head, and his right arm around Elio's waist, carefully helping the boy sit up. Elio bit back a cry of pain as his ribs shifted. Moran turned him to face the living room table, then walked over, grabbed a wooden chair, and sat down.

Moran tapped a finger on the map, specifically on the northernmost region.

"Here," Moran said. "The city of Ålesund. But they renamed it. This is Salvon."

Elio looked at the map. The terrain drawn there was brutal. It was a jagged coastline of deep fjords, surrounded by towering, snow-capped mountains. The roads leading to it were sparse, winding through frozen wastelands and dense, dark forests. It looked like the edge of the world.

"To get there, you have to travel north," Moran explained, tracing the route with his finger. "You cross the Grey Zones. Lawless, ruined towns. Then, you hit the major cities. If you go through Denmark, you hit Eldren, the City of Coin. From there, you cross into the industrial ruins of Gothenburg—Algrest, the City of Gears. Only then can you push into the northern fjords to reach Salvon."

Elio stared at the distance. His eyes widened. "That's... far."

"Very far," Moran agreed. "And the weather is harsh. The road there won't be easy."

Elio looked at him, confused. "Can't you just take me there with you? You have a car."

Moran blinked. "Wait, what? No, I can't take you with me. Or else they would be suspicious of me helping you! And... how did you know I work for them?"

Elio simply pointed a bruised finger at Moran's chest. "Your nametag. And your jacket badge. It says Salvon."

Moran looked down at his lapel. He saw the silver emblem of the Salvon military. He scratched the back of his head, a sheepish smile crossing his face. "I didn't even realize that myself. Anyway, the reason I can't take you is because, first, you're not a Salvon employee. If they see me with a random kid, they won't trust me. They'd fire me. Or worse, if they realize I'm interacting with you, they'll capture me and torture me for information."

He paused, taking a deep breath. "But you can meet me at the border of Denmark."

Elio blinked. "Denmark?"

Moran nodded, pointing at the map. "It's quite far. But it's a busy city. I can meet you there. I'll be able to get more info about what is going on in Salvon and give you the intel. I have a friend there who can help you get to the next city after Denmark... without any suspicion or getting caught, since it's properly controlled by the government."

Elio stared at him. "You are not smart at all."

"LIKE YOU ARE ANY BETTER, KID!" Moran shouted, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

He sighed, rubbing his temples. "Meet me in Denmark in two weeks. I guarantee you I will be able to get more info in that time and get my friend to help you get to Gothenburg."

Elio’s eyes suddenly widened, shining with a sudden, fierce light. "THE CITY OF THE INVENTORS AND MACHINES?!"

Moran looked baffled. "Yeah... kid, I am pretty sure you are supposed to be focusing on saving your partner here."

Elio held up a hand, trying to school his expression. "I know, I know."

Moran looked at him. He saw the way Elio's hands were trembling beneath the blanket. He saw the forced calm, the way Elio was intentionally making his tone sound normal. But Moran was a trained operative. He knew what he was looking at.

Deep inside, Elio wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. He wanted to tear the room apart. But he was a boy who had been taught to endure. To not cry. To push through the hardship.

Moran respected that. He decided not to say anything.

"Elio..." Moran said.

Elio looked up. "Yeah?"

"You want to know why I am helping you?"

Elio didn't respond for a long while.

Moran's eye twitched. "Speak up already, damn it! Don't leave me hanging, I am trying to be a good helper here!"

Elio blinked. "Mhmm. Sure."

Moran sighed, his shoulders slumping. He looked at the map, his voice dropping to a somber tone. "I used to have a daughter. When I look at your partner... Luna... the way she smiles, the way she looks at you... it's precious. It's similar to my daughter. My daughter would have been around her age this year. But she didn't survive the first day the HAIUs started to go rogue."

Elio’s eyes widened. A dark thought crossed his mind. Is he helping me just so he can kill Luna himself?

Moran seemed to read his mind. He looked Elio dead in the eye. "You are right about one thing, Elio. Luna is more of a human than some of us. I have watched you guys for ten months. I know how it feels to lose someone important to you. Someone you cherish. She may be a hybrid, but she is different. A lot more different. And I believe she could help make the world a better place with you."

Elio had no words. His eyes shimmered, and he looked genuinely surprised. "Thanks... for not seeing Luna as a HAIU. But as a human being. It means a lot. And I am sorry to hear about your daughter... I don't know what to say."

Moran’s jaw tightened. "I don't want your pity, kid. I want to help you rescue your partner before whatever this madman does to her."

Elio looked at the map, then back at Moran. "Alright. So, I will meet you in Denmark in two weeks then? But first, I have to talk to my parents..."

Moran shook his head. "Don't worry. I already talked to them."

Elio froze. "Wait, what?"

The front door creaked open. Mama and Papa stepped back inside, Hope still resting peacefully in Papa's arms. Mama walked toward the sofa, her eyes locked on Elio.

Elio tilted his head up. "Mam—"

Mama dropped to her knees. She wrapped her arms around him, hugging him hard and tight. Her body shook with silent sobs. "Get my daughter back," she whispered fiercely into his shoulder. "Get your partner back home, Elio. No matter what it takes. She is family to us."

Elio’s eyes widened. His eyes burned with unshed tears. Slowly, his arms came up, wrapping around his mother and holding her just as tight.

"I promise to bring her back," he said, his voice a serious, heavy vow.

Papa stepped forward. "Son... the world out there is harsh. It's not like the village, or the farm. It's dangerous." He shifted Hope to one arm and reached into his pocket. "So I want to give you this."

He held out a folded piece of metal. Elio took it. It was a pocket knife. Elio clicked the button on the handle, and a sharp steel blade popped out.

"Papa, this is—" Elio started.

"This is a combat knife," Papa interrupted gently. "We used them as soldiers. It's heavy, it's sharp, and it will save your life. Since you are going on this dangerous journey, you might as well have it."

Mama pulled back from the hug and stood up. She wiped her eyes. "You must live and survive during the journey... and come back home with Luna, and yourself, alive. That's all we ask."

Elio snapped the knife shut and tucked it into his pocket. He nodded firmly. "I promise I will do my best."

Suddenly, the front door burst open with a deafening crash.

"OI! ELIO! DAMN YOU LOOK LIKE SHIT!"

Alan stormed in, his messy brown hair wilder than ever, his patched trousers covered in dust. Lio followed right behind him, his glasses slightly askew, breathing heavily.

"We saw the cars come from this direction," Lio panted, adjusting his frames. "So we ran here."

Alan marched right up to the sofa, his eyes wide as he took in Elio's battered face—the swollen eye, the purple bruise on his cheek, the split lip. "What happened, Elio?! What is going on, dude? And where is Luna?"

Elio looked at his best friends. He took a deep breath and pushed himself to his feet. Mama reached out to steady him, but Elio gently moved her arm away.

"Mama, I'm fine... don't worry," he said, though his legs threatened to buckle. He looked at Alan and Lio. "Luna was taken. By Salvon soldiers."

Alan and Lio looked at each other, their faces mirroring pure shock.

"Salvon?" they said in unison.

Alan looked genuinely confused. "Isn't Salvon supposed to protect us? The people? Aren't they supposed to be the good guys?"

"They are," Moran interjected from the table. "But it's been corrupted. By its General, Silas Vane."

Alan, Lio, and Elio all nodded slowly. Elio hadn't known that either.

Alan looked back at Elio, his jaw setting in a hard line. "So you are going to rescue her?"

Elio nodded. "Yeah. That's pretty much the most logical thing to do."

Alan nodded back. "Alright. When are we going?"

Elio blinked, looking entirely thrown off. "Wait, what?"

Lio sighed, pushing his glasses up his nose. "You heard him right, Elio. Alan said we. We, we, we. Us. Basically, we are going with you on this journey. We are not going to leave your dumbass alone. You need us. Besides..." Lio paused, a rare, proud smirk crossing his face. "That's what brothers do."

Alan beamed with absolute arrogance. "Hell yeah we are! All the way to the grave and to the afterlife!"

Lio chuckled. "The Trio of Troublesome is back, then."

Mama let out a soft chuckle from the doorway.

Everyone turned to look at her. Elio tilted his head. "What happened, Mama?"

Mama just smiled, her eyes glistening with a mixture of sadness and fondness. "It just reminds me of you when you were a toddler with your friends..."

Elio smiled, a genuine, warm smile breaking through the bruises. "We are still babies to you, Mama."

Mama walked over and ruffled his messy hair. "Of course you are, my dear boy. You will always be."

Elio turned back to Alan and Lio, his demeanor shifting back to serious. "Alright. Alan, Lio, go back to your homes. Pack enough food, tools for survival, hell, even weapons. Alan... remember the small bombs that we made?"

Alan nodded rapidly. "Yeah, I have four of them. Why?"

Elio pointed at him. "Pack those into your bag. We will use them. And Lio, bring tools. Lots of good stuff, batteries, electricity components, and obviously some food. Bring a gas stove for cooking, the campfire kind. And water. And cloth. Same goes for you, Alan, pack cloth for yourself."

Alan and Lio nodded, their faces utterly serious.

"We are moving out in thirty minutes," Elio ordered. "Go."

Without another word, Alan and Lio turned and sprinted out of the house, the front door slamming behind them.

Elio turned back to Mama, Papa, and Moran. "Moran... can I have the map?"

Moran smirked. "Sure, why not, kid. You'll obviously get lost if you don't have it. I'm not stupid."

Elio walked to the table, his steps slow and pained, and folded the map, tucking it into his pocket.

Papa stepped forward. "Elio."

Elio turned.

Papa hesitated for a fraction of a second, then placed a strong hand on Elio's shoulder. "I am proud of you, son. And... take whatever tools you need from the house. You don't just have to use your own."

Elio smiled softly. "Thanks, Papa. And Mama."

He turned and walked out of the living room, heading for the stairs.

Mama and Papa looked at each other, then down at baby Hope. Moran watched them from the shadow of the doorway. He saw Papa wrap an arm around Mama, holding his family close.

Moran felt a sharp, agonizing pain in his chest. He saw himself. He saw his wife, Mira, holding their daughter, Eliara, when she was that small. He turned his face away, the ghosts of his past threatening to swallow him whole.

Upstairs, Elio walked into his room.

He moved to his closet and pulled out a large, old, but incredibly durable canvas backpack. He set it on his desk. Then, he went to the right corner of his room, beside his bed, and opened a heavy wooden chest.

Inside was his arsenal.

He pulled out small leather pouches filled with chemical powders: Saltpeter, charcoal, and sulfur, the ingredients for black powder. He grabbed coils of copper wire, strong magnets, batteries of various sizes, and a few small glass vials. He carefully added the components for his new prototype: lightweight aluminum alloy plates, micro-turbine fans, gyroscopes, and high-density lithium cells. He didn't know if they would work, but he needed them.

He walked to the closet where he and Luna kept their clothes. His black jacket, the one with the bright, light-orange inner lining, was hanging on the back of the door. He pulled it off.

As he did, a small strip of paper fluttered to the floor.

Elio's breath caught. He bent down and picked it up. It was the photo strip from the Winter Festival.

His eyes traced the five pictures.

The first: Elio trying to boop Luna's nose while she squirmed away, laughing, her hand waving.

The second: Luna holding Elio's hand up to the camera, both of them smiling brightly.

The third: Luna jumping in the air while Elio laughed at her.

The fourth: Elio and Luna looking at each other, smiling so happily it hurt to look at now.

The fifth: Luna kissing Elio on the forehead.

The light reflected off the glossy paper, revealing a faint ink on the back. Elio flipped the strip over.

In Luna's neat, careful handwriting, it read: Heart your lovely partner, Luna.

Elio's eyes flooded with tears. He bit his lip hard to keep the sob trapped in his throat. He wiped his eyes roughly with the back of his sleeve and held the photo close to his face, whispering into the silence of the room.

"I am coming to get you..."

He tucked the photo safely into the inside pocket of his jacket. Then, he began to pack.

He carefully arranged the chemical powders, the wires, the batteries, and the hover-shoe components at the bottom of the bag. He layered his clothes on top, making sure the bag wasn't too heavy to carry.

As he reached for the zipper, he saw something out of the corner of his eye.

On the left side of the bed—the side Luna always slept on—rested her plushie. The little shark plushie he had bought her at the festival.

Elio walked over to the bed. He picked up the plushie. It still smelled faintly of her. That strange, clean, floral scent that was uniquely Luna.

He brought it to his chest, hugging it tight for a long moment. Then, gently, he placed it in the very top of his backpack. He zipped the bag shut.

He pulled on his black jacket with the orange lining, slipped into a pair of baggy black jeans, and laced up his sturdy, thick-soled traveling sneakers.

He slung the heavy backpack over his shoulders and walked downstairs.

Mama and Papa were waiting by the front door. Papa walked forward, holding baby Hope out to him.

"Speak to your little sister for a bit," Papa said softly. "Before you leave us for a while."

Elio took Hope carefully. He looked down at her tiny, perfect face. She was sleeping, her little lips parted. He smiled, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. He rocked her slowly.

"Little sis..." Elio whispered. "I will be going out for a while. Maybe a few days, maybe months. But I promise I will buy you lots of gifts. Lots of candies."

Mama chuckled softly from the doorway.

Elio continued, his voice thick. "Hopefully, when I come back, you will be a great and wonderful daughter to Mama and Papa. I will bring your older sister back home. I promise."

Papa smiled, taking Hope back and stepping aside.

Agent Moran, who was still standing near the door, cleared his throat. Elio raised an eyebrow. "I thought you left."

"I got something to give you first," Moran said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, glossy photograph.

He handed it to Elio. Elio looked down. It was a picture of Luna. Her silver hair, her blue streak, her ocean-blue eyes. She was looking off-camera, a faint, curious smile on her face.

Elio’s eyes shimmered. He almost broke down right there, but he swallowed it. He looked up at Moran. "Thanks... I appreciate it."

Moran smiled. "No problem at all. Good luck on your journey, kid. See you in Denmark."

Moran turned and walked out the door, heading toward his hover car. The engine hummed, and soon, he was gone.

Mama suddenly turned and hurried into the kitchen. "Elio, come here!"

Elio looked at Papa, confused. Papa just shrugged.

Elio walked into the kitchen and stopped dead. On the table was a large, insulated box. Mama opened it. Inside was enough food to last a week: containers of rice porridge, fresh water, bread, a jar of honey, and marinated chicken pieces ready for the grill.

Elio’s eyes widened. "Mama... you don't need to give me all of this. You can keep it. I still have 1600 pounds in my wallet. I will be fine, I can buy food."

Mama looked at him, her eyes sharp. "And what will you do when the money runs out?"

Elio went quiet. He didn't have an answer.

"You are going on a long journey," Mama said, her voice softening. "You won't survive without food or water. You are still a kid, after all."

Elio nodded slowly. "Yeah... you are right, Mama."

He walked to the table, slid his backpack off his shoulders, and unzipped the main compartment. He carefully packed the food boxes inside, making sure they were secure. He zipped it back up and looked at her.

"Thanks, Mama. For the food."

He walked to her and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her hard. His voice shook. "I will miss you, Mama... you and Papa. And Hope, too, of course."

Mama chuckled, though there was a deep sadness in it. She held him close, her hand stroking the back of his head. "Oh, my baby boy... you are still a kid. You shouldn't be experiencing any of this... but if this is faith, then this is how it should be."

She pulled back, her hands framing his face. She tilted his head up so he could look into her eyes.

"You have made me so proud. So, so proud. And I couldn't have asked for a better son."

Elio’s eyes shimmered.

Mama smiled. "Now, you should go. Lio and Alan have been at the front door for a while already, all packed. Go get my daughter back... get your partner back, Elio."

Elio nodded. He walked out of the kitchen, passing Papa and Hope by the door. He reached for the door handle, but stopped. He looked back at Mama in the kitchen, and Papa by the door.

"I am thankful for being raised as your son... I love you, Papa and Mama."

Mama and Papa smiled, their eyes glistening.

"We love you too, son," they said in unison.

Elio turned the knob and opened the door.

The cool night air hit his face. The moonlight spilled down over the farm, illuminating the swaying wheat fields.

Alan and Lio were standing outside, leaning against the wooden pillars of the porch. Both of them had their hands stuffed in their jean pockets, looking like absolute gangsters. Alan had a large duffel bag slung over his shoulder, and Lio was carrying a heavy-looking rucksack.

Elio stepped out onto the center of the porch. The wind blew, rustling the leaves and the tall grass.

Alan on the left, and Lio on the right, stepped forward and stood beside him.

"So this is it, ey?" Alan asked, grinning.

Elio nodded, his eyes fixed on the dark road ahead. "Yeah. This is it."

Lio smirked, pushing his glasses up. "Then let the Trio of Troublesome depart!"

Elio and Alan looked at each other, threw their heads back, and shouted in unison, "LET'S GO!"

The three boys broke into a run, their shoes pounding against the dirt path. They ran into the darkness, carrying the weight of the world on their shoulders.

And behind them, standing on the porch in the moonlight, Mama and Papa waved goodbye.

END OF CHAPTER 1