The soft hum of Reina's laboratory filled the quiet morning air. Sunlight seeped through the half-closed blinds, scattering across the room filled with scattered notes, half-finished devices, and glowing monitors. Reina sat at the central workstation, a mug of grape tea cooling at her side, as lines of code scrolled endlessly across the largest screen.
"Alright," she muttered, stretching her slender fingers before resuming her typing. "If I can refine the projection's resolution ratio and align the light matrix with ANIER's lens calibration… it should work."
A voice echoed in her mind, calm and perfectly even.
ANIER: "Probability of first attempt success is 2.37%. Encouraging, but not enough for confidence."
Reina sighed, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear."Thanks for the motivation boost… idiot."
She tapped the enter key. The projector on the desk—a small, disk-like device no bigger than her palm—whirred to life. Tiny beams of light burst upward, forming a rough outline of a cube. At first, Reina's eyes sparkled—then, within seconds, the cube flickered, distorted, and collapsed into a scrambled mess of pixels before vanishing completely.
ANIER: "Failure logged. Cause: insufficient stability in phase alignment. Secondary cause: excess heat production from processor."
"Yeah, yeah, I saw that…" She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. Her crimson eyes narrowed in thought. "The concept works, but the execution's trash. The light scatter isn't synchronized enough."
The AI's voice chimed again.
ANIER: "Shall I generate simulation models for corrective structures?"
"Do it," she replied instantly, rubbing her temples.
As ANIER processed, Reina reached for her tea, her mind already racing through new approaches. She had been chasing this idea for days: a free-standing hologram projector. If successful, it would revolutionize how she presented her research, modeled her ideas, and maybe even… communicate with others more naturally.
"Imagine," she whispered to herself, "explaining a concept without words… letting them see it right in front of them."
The thought warmed her chest, though she immediately shook it off. Not that I care about impressing them. It's just… convenient.
The screen blinked.
ANIER: "Simulation complete. Suggested corrections uploaded."
Reina skimmed the adjustments—minor tweaks in the emission sequence, recalibration of the halo's synchronization range. She exhaled, cracked her knuckles, and got to work.
Hours passed.
Attempt after attempt. Each time, the projector hummed to life, scattering fragile light into the air, sometimes forming crude shapes, other times collapsing instantly.
"Again."
ANIER: "Acknowledged. Re-running with modified algorithm."
The lab filled with the rhythmic cycle of trial and error. Failures piled up, but Reina's focus never wavered. Her eyes burned, but her determination was relentless. Sweat trickled down her forehead, though she ignored it completely.
On the tenth attempt, a flicker of progress—an incomplete sphere, shimmering faintly before it burst apart like shards of glass. Reina clenched her fist, frustrated.
"Tch. Closer… but still unstable."
ANIER: "Encouraging progress. Estimated probability of success has increased to 17.92%."
"Still garbage odds."
By late afternoon, the lab lights glowed faintly as natural sunlight dimmed. Reina hunched over the desk, her once-neat hair slightly disheveled, her eyes unwavering on the hologram base.
She whispered to herself, "This is nothing. I've solved harder problems than this…"
ANIER: "Reminder: maintaining proper health is optimal. Current heart rate is elevated. Oxygen levels slightly reduced. A break is suggested."
"No breaks," she said firmly. "Not until it works."
ANIER: "…Understood. But I will continue monitoring."
Reina smirked faintly. "You never shut up, do you?"
Despite her words, the presence of ANIER was a comfort—a constant partner in her lonely pursuit.
Attempt number twenty-three.
Reina adjusted the final calibration, double-checked the equations, and pressed the power key.
The projector came alive with a sharper hum. Light spilled upward, clean and steady. A translucent cube appeared in midair, holding its form longer than ever before. Reina's breath caught. The cube rotated, edges sharp and defined.
"Yes… yes…!" Her lips curved into a rare smile.
But before she could celebrate, the cube warped violently and shattered into cascading sparks.
She slammed her palm on the desk. "Damn it!"
The silence after the failure was deafening, broken only by ANIER's calm voice.
ANIER: "Stability lasted 12.4 seconds. Record achievement. Would you like to save this configuration as baseline?"
"…Fine. Save it." Reina exhaled slowly, her heart still racing. "At least we're not going backward."
She slumped in her chair, staring at the ceiling. For a brief moment, doubt crept in. Why am I pushing so hard? No one asked for this. Nobody even cares if I succeed or not.
But then she remembered Shion's smile when he'd organized their outing, the awe in her classmates' eyes when she explained complex subjects so effortlessly, the way Himari bowed with such earnest respect.
Reina shook her head, trying to erase the thoughts. "It's just for efficiency," she muttered. "Nothing more."
Still, her hands moved back to the keyboard, ready to try again.
Night fell.
Attempt number thirty-eight.
The projector emitted its usual hum. Light flared, forming into a sphere, then stretched into a three-dimensional model of a double helix. Reina's eyes widened.
"…No way."
The structure shimmered, delicate yet vivid, rotating smoothly in the air. It held. One second. Two seconds. Ten seconds. Thirty seconds.
Reina stood slowly, reaching out her hand. Her fingers brushed through the light, scattering it into ripples that reformed instantly.
A small laugh escaped her lips. "It… it worked…"
ANIER: "Stability duration: 64.7 seconds and counting. Energy consumption within acceptable limits. Congratulations, Reina."
Her chest swelled with a mix of pride and disbelief. For once, she didn't argue with ANIER. She simply stared, mesmerized, as the holographic DNA spun silently in front of her.
Finally, after more than a full minute, the projection faded away, leaving darkness in its place.
Reina collapsed into her chair, exhaustion washing over her—but her expression remained soft, satisfied.
"…Idiot," she whispered, though this time the word carried warmth.
ANIER: "Clarification: are you referring to me or yourself?"
Reina chuckled quietly. "Both."
She leaned back, closing her eyes, the ghost of the hologram still shining in her mind. Tomorrow, she would refine it further. Tomorrow, she'd push the limits again.
But for tonight… she allowed herself the rare luxury of rest, a faint smile lingering on her lips as the lab dimmed into silence.