Room 886, 11th Floor, Silver Orchid Quarters (銀蘭舍), Dragon District, Xing Hong
The autocab's suspension groaned as it crossed from Dragon District into Silver Orchid Quarters. Xin knew the transition before he saw it, as the ride smoothed out as maglev lanes gave way to cracked pavement, the vehicle switching to wheels to save power.
H?kon stirred against his chest, scales shifting from blue to drowsy gray. "Home soon?"
"Yeah, buddy. Five more minutes."
Through the window, Dragon District's neon gave way to Silver Orchid's practical LEDs. Storefronts here weren't advertisements so much as facts. 'WATER RATION DEPOT'. 'PROTEIN SUPPLEMENTS'. 'MODDING TOOLS & PARTS - USED'. The buildings showed repair jobs in at least three different materials where owners had patched what they could afford.
The cab stopped outside Building 7, Unit 23. Xin paid with his Nucleus Watch—$18 Atomic Dollars for the ride, leaving his balance at $847. The fare used to be $12 eleven months ago.
"Pappa?" H?kon's head lifted as they crossed the lobby. "Why buil-ding smell like socksss?"
"Probably the air recycler. Needs maintenance." Xin hit the elevator call button. Nothing happened. He hit it again.
Still nothing.
"Stairs it is."
H?kon made a sympathetic chirp. "Pappa legs tired?"
"Pappa's fine." Ten floors up. His Resilience of 1 meant he'd feel it tomorrow, but that was tomorrow's problem.
Before long, they had arrived, and Xin unlocked the steel door with an identification chip in his Nucleus Watch, a beep sound accompanying green glow on its dial.
The apartment was small—a living space carved from what had been storage on some retired shuttle. The porthole window looked out at another building three meters away. His fold-out bed occupied one wall, H?kon's heated cushion nest another, and his work desk filled the remaining space.
Small. But theirs.
Xin set H?kon on the washbasin carefully. The little Diabolisk's scales had gone full sleepy gray, his eyelids drooping.
"Okay, buddy. Bath time first, then sleep."
"Nooooo..." H?kon's protest was half-yawn. "Too sleepy for bath."
"You've got dust all over you." Xin filled the sink with lukewarm water—hot water cost extra after 22:00. "Come on. Five minutes, I promise."
H?kon trudged over, tiny form dragging. Xin lifted him gently, and the Diabolisk settled into the water with a contented sigh.
"There we go." Xin found the soft brush, the one that didn't scratch scales. "How was tonight? Fun?"
"Sky Lady pretty. Flower Lady scary-pretty. Music Man nice." H?kon's eyes were closed, head resting on the sink's edge. "Fight fun."
"The bar fight was dangerous."
"But Pappa hit bad man good."
"Pappa got lucky. The A.I. aiming helped." Xin worked the brush along H?kon's spine, dislodging reddish Martian dust. The scales underneath looked... duller than usual. Not quite as vibrant. Xin kept his expression neutral, continuing the gentle strokes.
"Com-pew-tur help Pappa gun go pew pew!" H?kon made finger-guns with both claws before asking, "Magic?"
"Science." Xin raised a finger gently. "But Fuuka—Flower Lady—saved us too. Remember?"
"Mmmm. Flower Lady worm go crunch!" H?kon made a happy chomp gesture. "Then bad guys body go poof! Magic?"
"Magic." Xin nodded as he drained the rust-colored water and refilled the sink. Second rinse. The water gauge on the wall read 31% of daily ration used already. The rest would have to be distributed between washing H?kon, drinkable water, and cleaning himself before bed. He'd have to be careful.
"We'll make it." Xin said to himself. With careful calculation and management, even such modest—and some might say pathetic—existence, had a way to be sustainable. "We always do."
"Pappa worried?" H?kon tilted his head, regarding Xin with those bubbly shimmering blue eyes.
"H?kon." Xin used the serious voice. "Tomorrow, we have to go adventure. But it'll be dangerous."
The Diabolisk's scales flickered concern-brown. "Pappa and HAW-koon fight monsters?"
"Maybe. Probably." He lifted H?kon out, wrapped him in their one good towel. "But we'll be careful. And when we come back, we'll have money for... for everything. Real meat. Fresh vegetables. Maybe even—"
"Meat buns?" H?kon's eyes opened, suddenly alert. "Many buns? Soup inside?"
"The best ones." Xin set him down gently. "From that place you liked. What was it called..."
"Gao Dum-puu-liiing!" H?kon's tail did a little wiggle. "Shiny meat buns! Sweet buns! Many buns! Soup-y buns make tongue happy."
"Ah, you mean xiao-long-bao. Yeah." Xin found H?kon's toothbrush—child-sized, soft bristles.
H?kon yawned wide enough to show all his tiny teeth. "Pappa...HAW-koon more sleepy today. Is okay?"
Xin's hands paused for just a second. "You had a big adventure tonight, buddy. Of course you're tired."
But it wasn't just tonight. Three weeks now, maybe four, H?kon had been sleeping more. Eating less. The cheap supplements—$340 a month, all Xin could afford— clearly weren't enough anymore. Growing Diabolisks needed better nutrition. Premium care ran around $800 monthly—more than their rent.
"We'll make it work," Xin murmured. "Tomorrow we go on our adventure, and when we come back..." He carried H?kon to the heated cushion. "We'll visit Doctor Nikki together. Get you checked out properly. How's that sound?"
H?kon's scales flickered curious-blue for a moment as he attempted the name. "Neee-kki. Doctor Lady. Can help?"
"Yep. Doctor Lady." Xin set him down gently. "She gave you the check-up when you hatched, remember?"
"After shiny treasure?"
"After we get the treasure. Promise." Xin applied toothpaste on the child-sized toothbrush. "Okay. Open up for me?"
H?kon obliged, holding perfectly still while Xin brushed the tiny fangs. Another routine built over three years. Trust and patience.
Stolen novel; please report.
"All done. But before sleep..." Xin stood. From the inner pocket, he pulled out a folded piece of paper. "Remember this?"
H?kon's scales flashed bright azure—his excited color. "Important art!"
"Important art," Xin confirmed. He smoothed the drawing carefully—wobbly green crayon circles, a stick figure with rectangular glasses, and a smaller spiky blob that was supposed to be H?kon. "You said Pappa should keep it safe, right?"
"Yes yesss!"
Xin found the roll of tape in his desk drawer, tore off a small piece, and pressed the drawing to the wall just above H?kon's heated cushion. The crayon circles caught the dim light from the porthole window.
"There. Now it's on our wall. Official gallery."
H?kon practically vibrated with joy, his tail doing a little wiggle. "Pappa remember! Pappa keep promise!"
"Always try to." Xin scratched behind H?kon's head ridge. "Get some sleep now, okay?"
"Pappa sleep too?"
"Soon. Gotta check something first."
H?kon's scales shifted to worried brown. "Pappa tired. See in face."
"Just five minutes. Promise." Xin waited until H?kon's breathing evened out, the little chest rising and falling in sleep's rhythm. The drawing rustled slightly in the recycled air.
A promise kept. Small, maybe meaningless to anyone else. But it mattered.
Xin moved to his desk, the Quantum Laptop coming to life with a fingerprint scan. His ZenFusion Rigger profile loaded automatically—3.7 stars, 847 completed jobs, twelve years of freelance engineering reduced to an algorithm's judgment. His inbox glowed with its usual hostility:
[ZenFusion Data Solutions: Thank you for your interest. Unfortunately, the position has been filled.]
[Arctech Industries: We're looking for fresh graduates with 10+ years experience in agentic AI-driven fullstack Extranet solution engineering.]
[Martian Mining Corp: 3-month contract, no benefits. $800 AD/week.]
[Red Planet Logistics: Part-time, flexible hours. $12 AD/hour.]
Forty-one applications sent this month. Nineteen responses. Eighteen rejections. One offer that wouldn't cover rent. His rating had been 4.2 before that Phobos contract fell through: loss of satellite connection to Extranet. Not his fault, but the algorithm didn't care whose fault it was.
He opened his expense tracker:
{
Rent: $660 AD/month
Water/Power: $380 AD/month
Food (basic): $600 AD/month
H?kon (supplements): $340 AD/month
Medical (emergency fund): $200 AD/month
….. [Collapsed Content. Click to see more]
Minimum survival: $3,920 AD monthly.
Current assets: $847 AD.
Rent due: 8 days.
}
The numbers didn't lie.
His hand found Jade, the emerald green 10mm Magnum in his jacket pocket, its aiming module sending a verdant line of energy across its surface. The weight of this pistol suddenly felt wrong. He'd never fired at a person before—Radi-Mons, yes; target practice, yes. But a human?
$50,000. Could afford him ten months of security. Time to find real work. Time to afford Doctor Nikki's premium care for H?kon.
One chance.
Xin pulled up ANN—Atomic News Network—on his laptop, keeping volume low. The holographic anchor's face floated above the screen:
"...following today's incident in the Red Rabbit Warren. Authorities confirm seven bounty hunters have attempted retrieval of the High-Grade Zephyrium cache in the past four hours. Three are confirmed deceased, two remain missing, and two successfully extracted with injuries. Prefect Dilinur Altai has issued no comment regarding—"
Xin muted it. Three dead. Two missing. Out of seven.
71% casualty rate.
His mind ran the calculation: with his PRIMAL stats, his survival odds were...not good. He was smart, nothing else. And tomorrow he'd be competing against people like that strong blonde woman—Sigrun, with her valor and an inexplicable beauty despite the intimidating aura. What had H?kon called her? Sky Lady. And yet, Xin couldn't help feel that she had been a different person before.
The 10mm suddenly felt heavier.
Xin looked at the sleeping Diabolisk, at the drawing on the wall—those wobbly crayon circles on the wall. Then at his bank balance. Then at the bounty posting still displayed on his Watch.
Three dead. Two missing.
But also: two survived.
Xin stood, joints protesting. The apartment's compact shower stall waited.
He started with the beige puffer jacket, its ballistic weave showing wear at the elbows and shoulders. Second-hand from a flea market near Doctor Nikki's clinic—not top-grade, but reliable enough to stop a knife or few rounds. He'd chosen it specifically for the reinforced chest pocket, large enough for H?kon to nestle in safely when they traveled. The 10mm sat heavy in the side pocket, safeties engaged. He folded the jacket carefully, setting it on the desk chair within arm's reach.
[- Unequipped: Ballistic Puffer Jacket, AsahiTech civilian variant, Osaka II variant]
[- Unequipped: Jade, 10mm Magnum, Castor & Pollux A.I. targeting variant, (Residual psionic energy detected)]
[Are you psionic? Get a certification from authorized entities before attempting spells. Tap the links below to schedule an exam:
-
Terra Alliance *
-
Imperium of Dragons **
-
Zorian Covenant
-
Emerald Directorate If renewing your certification, you may opt for a shorter renewal exam 60 days before your expiration date with a $300 discount! * Residents of Mainland China, Taiwan, Hong Kong and all Imperium regions beyonds Earth must undergo the National Loyalty Test before examination. The NLT is free for all with verified Imperial ethnicity.
]
[REMINDER to Sol citizens: Uncertified spell casting is punishable by law!!]
"Thanks, and no thanks." He muttered at the warning message.
The green hoodie came next, pulled over his head. ZenFusion Data Solutions logo still visible on the chest despite three years of wear—employee surplus from back when he still had a job there. Before 'departmental downsizing.'
[- Unequipped: Field Tech Hoodie, ZenFusion Interplanetary variant, 5-year Warranty in effect]
His black-rimmed glasses came off next, placed carefully beside the Quantum Laptop. Taiwan manufacture, prescription lenses with empty mounting slots along the frames where tech mods could go—augmented reality overlays, targeting assists, data feeds. He'd never saved enough to fill those slots. But one day he would.
[- Unequipped: Space Delver v8, Burrell & Kao variant, Manufacturer: Taiwan Optical Ltd.]
The beige jogging shoes were next—no-name brand, practical synthetics with worn treads. Not fashionable like Mars Walkers, but realiable all the same. He unlaced them slowly, setting them beside the bed where he could slip into them quickly if needed.
[- Unequipped: Ballistic Jogging Shoes, The Boreum Face variant, Xing Hong local manufacture]
His utility belt followed, unclasping with a metallic click, two full bottles of Indra-Sprite on it. One Medi-Vap vial in its quick-release holster. He set the belt on the desk, the bottles catching faint light from the porthole.
[- Unequipped: Utility Belt, generic civilian model, Manufacturer: N/A]
His thermal undershirt peeled off, static electricity making it cling. Reliable quality, bought on sale. His cargo pants followed, with its multiple pockets, reinforced knees. Given from his late father as a birthday gift all those years ago, a week before he bid farewell to his family and left Earth behind. 6 years and it remained as sturdy as the day he'd first put it on.
[- Unequipped: Tactical Cargo Pants, Revolution Anniversary Edition, Manufacturer: Taiwanese Rebellion Surplus]
Socks last. He stood there for a moment, then his eyes fell to his left wrist.
The Nucleus Watch's deep emerald face gleamed—ZenFusion Data Solutions Engineer's Model, enhanced computation array. He'd bought it with his employee discount three months before getting laid off, spending money he should have saved because he'd believed in the future. Believed he'd need the upgraded processing for complex field work, for the career that was supposed to materialize.
Xin pressed the release clasp.
[- Unequipped: Nucleus Watch, ZenFusion Data Solutions Engineer's Model, Void-attuned, Level 6 user profile, 7-year Warranty in effect]
[Warning: Performance tracking disabled. Social Worth accumulation paused. Skill access limited.]
[Resume monitoring? Y/N]
He set the watch face-down on the desk, next to his glasses with their empty mod slots. He then took H?kon’s child-sized toothbrush to wash it at the sink before putting it away. Now for himself.
The water ran lukewarm but he didn't mind. As he scrubbed Martian dust from his skin. H?kon's soft breathing mixed with the shower's hiss. The drawing on the wall was his motivation, H?kon's crayon circles were his tiny promises.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow would decide everything. They'd get their treasure, and everything would change.
"And what if Sigrun was there as well? What if, after turning in the Zephyrium, I asked if she wanted coffee?" He suddenly muttered to himself.
The thought felt absurd and necessary in equal measure.
But now, Xin let himself believe in wobbly green circles and stick figures with glasses. In the dream that $50,000 could buy more than what he could see at the moment. Perhaps a future where H?kon's scales stayed bright. Perhaps a life he could not only sustain, and also build incrementally.
The water shut off automatically at the ration limit. Xin dried off, pulled on clean clothes for tomorrow, and lay down on his fold-out bed without bothering with the blanket. The heater nearby hummed, keeping the room warm for him and H?kon. Modest but reliable.
Through the porthole, Mars's rust-red horizon was just beginning to lighten with Xing Hong's timely artificial daylight. Dawn in a few hours. Then the real test.
From his cushion nest, H?kon mumbled in his sleep, scales back to blue now. "Pappa stay safe...HAW-koon need Pappa..."
"Don't worry, buddy," he whispered toward the heated cushion. "Tomorrow we get our treasure. Then things will change for the better."
He believed it because he had to.
Sleep came slowly, stalked by dreams of tunnels, a brave woman with blonde hair in beige trench coat carrying her silver blue Thermal Axe, and a little Diabolisk whose scales shone like sapphires in the sun.