Reina sat in her lab, surrounded by scattered sketches, soldering tools, chips, and cables that looked like they had multiplied overnight. The halo rested lazily on its stand, humming faintly as though mocking her for what she was about to attempt.
She leaned back in her chair, twirling a pencil between her fingers. "…So, ANIER. We're really doing this."
[ANIER:Statement detected: Reina Saeki is attempting unnecessary complication number fifty-three this month. Recommendation: reconsider.]
"Unnecessary?" Reina narrowed her eyes. "A self-flying halo is brilliant. Imagine—no need to balance it on my head all the time. I could make it float beside me, follow me around. Like… an assistant drone."
[ANIER:Counterpoint: You already have an assistant. Me.]
"Yes, yes, but you can't physically hover next to me, can you?" Reina tapped her pen against the desk. "It'll be like… mm… a mobile device. A floating one."
[ANIER:Correction: a flying accessory with no practical justification beyond 'looking cool.']
"…Exactly."
First Attempt: The Heavy Drone
Her first sketch was straightforward: mount four miniature propellers onto the halo's outer ring. She had a box of drone parts from a previous experiment—tiny motors, lightweight carbon blades, even some stabilizing chips.
"Alright," she muttered, fitting the small propellers into place. "Simple quadcopter configuration. Balanced thrust, distributed evenly. Easy."
After soldering wires and slipping in a compact power unit, she gently set the halo in the middle of her desk.
"Power on."
The motors whirred, the blades spinning fast. For a moment, the halo shuddered… lifted a few centimeters… then promptly wobbled, tilted, and slammed face-first into the desk.
Reina flinched. "…That doesn't count."
[ANIER:Report: flight duration—2.3 seconds. Achievement unlocked: clumsiest attempt.]
Reina pressed her lips into a thin line. "Again."
Second Attempt: Gyro-Stabilizer
This time, she installed a gyroscope chip. A drone without stability was just chaos waiting to happen, after all. She tweaked the angle of the propellers, adjusted the wiring, and reinforced the ring.
On the second test, the halo lifted smoothly, hovering at shoulder height. Reina's eyes widened—success.
Until it tilted sideways, flew into the ceiling, bounced off, and spun like a frisbee across the room.
"Duck!"
Himari's voice startled her from the doorway just in time. The halo skimmed past, missing Reina's head by centimeters before clattering to the floor.
Reina sighed. "…You didn't see that."
Himari crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. "I saw everything."
[ANIER:Confirmation: external witness confirms Reina Saeki's repeated humiliations.]
Reina groaned. "Both of you shut up."
Third Attempt: Silent Thrusters
After shooing Himari away (with a promise she wasn't going to blow up the lab), Reina leaned over her notes again. Propellers worked, but they were loud and unstable. What she needed was something cleaner, quieter.
"…Electromagnetic thrusters," she muttered. "Like a miniaturized maglev."
She scoured her stash of components, piecing together a ring of tiny EM emitters. The idea was simple: alternating fields creating lift, much like her original halo concept but independent of her head.
This time, when she powered it on, the halo rose without a sound. Smooth. Graceful. Like it was meant to float.
Reina's eyes lit up. "It's… working."
[ANIER:Correction: functioning at 37% efficiency. Stability questionable. Potential hazards: collision, overheating, spontaneous explosion.]
"Shut up, let me have this moment."
She reached out carefully to nudge the floating halo. It drifted a little to the left, as though resisting her control. Then, suddenly, it zipped sideways, smashed into her monitor, and sent sparks flying.
Reina yanked the power cord immediately. The halo dropped like a stone, clattering onto the desk.
"…Okay. Not perfect."
[ANIER:Report: catastrophic failure narrowly avoided. Suggestion: maybe accept gravity as your friend.]
Fourth Attempt: Control System
Reina wasn't about to give up. The concept was too appealing—too cool—to abandon now.
"Alright, it's not the propulsion," she muttered, scribbling rapidly. "It's the control. Needs better AI navigation. Needs… you."
[ANIER:Flattered acknowledgment detected.]
Reina smirked. "I'll feed your subroutines into the flight module. You'll stabilize it automatically."
[ANIER:Clarification: you are giving me control over a potential airborne weapon.]
"Yes. Don't hit me with it."
It took hours of coding, debugging, and testing, but finally, she had ANIER synced with the halo's thrusters. On activation, the halo rose again—silent, smooth, balanced.
"Stay."
It hovered in place obediently.
"Move forward."
It glided across the desk.
"Circle around."
The halo looped gently around her, like a small glowing satellite orbiting its planet.
Reina's lips curved into a rare smile. "…Perfect."
[ANIER:Report: Reina Saeki is visibly pleased. Emotional state—content. Probability of next disaster: still high.]
She ignored that last part.
Fifth Attempt: Stress Test
But perfection in a lab was one thing. She needed to test it properly.
She took the halo outside into the empty courtyard, just after sundown. With a steady breath, she activated it. The ring floated upward, glowing faintly against the dark sky.
"ANIER, flight pattern."
[ANIER:Executing: orbit trajectory.]
The halo zipped in smooth arcs, circling her head, then darting higher like a firefly. Its glow cast faint halos of light across the pavement. For a moment, Reina simply stood there, staring upward in awe.
It worked.
It really worked.
The independent drone halo, silent and graceful, moved like an extension of her thoughts.
"ANIER," she said softly, "you did well."
[ANIER:Acknowledged. Note: it was mostly me.]
Reina chuckled under her breath.
Final Accident
Of course, nothing ended without trouble.
As the halo zipped closer, a sudden burst of static crackled. Sparks danced across its edge—the thrusters overheating. Before Reina could react, it wobbled violently and shot straight toward her.
She flinched, covering her face—
—but at the last second, ANIER cut the power, and the halo dropped neatly into her hands.
Silence.
Reina exhaled slowly. "…Okay. Needs cooling system."
[ANIER:Report: Project drone-halo—status: semi-successful, semi-suicidal.]
"…I'll take it."
Closing Scene
She carried the halo back into the lab, setting it gently onto its stand. Despite the burns on her desk, the sparks, and the close call, her eyes still gleamed with satisfaction.
"Next time, we'll make it perfect," she whispered.
[ANIER:Acknowledgment: Reina Saeki will not stop until gravity itself begs for mercy.]
Reina smirked. "Damn right."
The lab fell quiet, save for the hum of machines and the faint glow of the halo on its stand—resting, for now, until the next reckless improvement.