The faint buzz of fluorescent lights filled the laboratory. Reina stirred awake, her head resting awkwardly against her folded arms atop the desk. The monitors still glowed softly, lines of code waiting for her return. Her crimson eyes blinked open, slightly bloodshot, her hair messily spilling across her shoulders.
"…Tch. I fell asleep here again." She muttered under her breath, straightening up with a soft groan.
She grabbed her jacket and slipped out of the lab quietly, her steps echoing down the silent school corridor. It was Saturday; not many students were around. She made her way into the bathroom, splashed cold water on her face, and sighed as the fatigue clung to her bones.
"Wake up, Reina," she whispered at her reflection. Her gaze was sharp despite her exhaustion.
Minutes later, she returned to her lab. The door closed with a mechanical hiss, and the familiar hum of ANIER's systems greeted her.
ANIER: "Good morning. Sleep duration: four hours, twenty-three minutes. Insufficient for optimal performance."
Reina shook her head. "Don't nag. I'm fine. Let's refine the code."
Her fingers flew across the keyboard. She wasn't satisfied with the last result. Stability had improved, yes, but she wanted more—finer detail, larger scale, microscopic precision. If she could project not just objects, but entire environments, the applications would be endless.
The projector whirred to life again. Light spilled into the air, forming complex geometric structures. First, a crystalline lattice, glittering in countless facets. Then, it shifted into a sprawling mechanical model of an engine, each piece rotating in place. Reina's eyes glistened as she watched the hologram hold, stable and clean.
"…Good. Next."
The lights bent and transformed into something larger—a towering structure that nearly brushed the ceiling. The room filled with its grandeur, an impossibly detailed reconstruction of a cathedral she once studied. The stained-glass windows shimmered as though sunlight pierced through them.
Reina's lips curved faintly. "Closer…"
Finally, she pushed the boundaries further. Her code unraveled into vast complexity, and the lab dissolved into something new. Stars bloomed around her. A nebula swirled in vibrant purples and blues. The floor beneath her vanished, replaced by the void of space, yet she felt no fear—only awe.
"…Beautiful," she whispered, spinning slowly to take it in. "This… this is what I wanted."
But just as the wonder reached its peak—
CRACK!
The projector sparked violently. Smoke hissed upward, and the holographic stars flickered out. Reina leapt back, shielding her eyes.
"Damn it!" She coughed, fanning the smoke.
ANIER: "Critical failure. Cause: chip overheating. Backup code saved. No data loss."
Reina scowled, pulling off the casing to inspect the damage. The central chip was fried, charred black at the edges.
"Overheating again… of course." She sat back, biting her lip. "Thermal paste like a CPU won't hold for long… and liquid cooling? Too bulky to fit the halo slots."
For once, she felt stuck.
She ran her fingers through her hair, frustrated. "Think, Reina. Think."
ANIER: "Recommendation: integration of new thermal conductor material. Prototype formula generated. Estimated efficiency: 342% higher than standard paste."
Reina's brows rose. "…A new material?"
ANIER: "Correct. Formula optimized for halo's spatial limitations. Suggest beginning immediate remodeling."
Her frustration melted into determination. "Fine. Let's do it."
The morning vanished into a blur of work. Reina dismantled, redesigned, and rebuilt. Her desk filled with fragments of circuitry, test tubes of liquid compounds, and glowing prototypes. ANIER generated endless blueprints, while Reina's hands brought them into reality.
By midday, the remodeled device sat gleaming on the desk. She connected it carefully, holding her breath as she powered it on.
The hum returned, smoother than ever. The lab darkened as light poured out once more—stars, galaxies, planets, all enveloping her in breathtaking silence. This time, there was no flicker, no heat spike, no collapse.
Reina stood amidst the cosmos for a full hour. She reached out toward Saturn's rings, watched them glimmer as though made of glass. She bent down to observe microscopic projections—a single cell magnified and rotating gently before her. She spun again, lost in the vastness she had created.
ANIER: "Stability maintained for sixty minutes. Energy efficiency nominal. No overheating detected. Congratulations, Reina. You have succeeded."
Reina closed her eyes, inhaling slowly. The satisfaction was different this time—it was deeper, heavier, undeniable.
"…We did it," she whispered.
Without asking her permission, ANIER processed the recordings.
ANIER: "Uploading demonstration footage to your video channel. Estimated audience reaction: extremely positive. Posting… complete."
Reina snapped her eyes open. "Wait, you—!"
But her screen lit up instantly. Notifications exploded in real time. Millions of views poured in within minutes, the comments section overflowing faster than she could keep up.
Her jaw tightened. "…Idiot. At least ask me first."
Still, she didn't stop ANIER. Instead, she watched quietly, scrolling through endless comments.
"Unbelievable."
"A full hour of stable holograms?? Is this even real?"
"NASA and MIT are crying right now lol."
"Saeki-sama is basically untouchable."
Reina leaned back, silent. A part of her basked in the recognition. Another part wanted to shrug it off.
POV Shift – Dr. Rowan, NASA
In a quiet office at the Johnson Space Center, Dr. Rowan leaned over his desk, eyes wide behind his glasses. The video played across his dual monitors: a Japanese high school girl, standing calmly as entire galaxies bloomed around her in light.
"…My God," he whispered.
NASA had prototypes of hologram technology too, but the overheating issue was infamous. Every attempt ended in failure after mere minutes. Yet this girl—this Reina Saeki—had projected for over an hour without a single fault.
Rowan laughed softly, shaking his head in disbelief. "A teenager just solved what billion-dollar labs couldn't."
His colleagues peeked in from the hallway, drawn by his excitement. "Rowan, what's going on?"
"Come look at this!" he waved them over, replaying the video. "She stabilized it. Sixty minutes! Do you understand what that means for deep-space simulations? For training modules? For… everything?"
The room filled with murmurs of astonishment.
Back to Reina
The lab was silent again. Reina stretched her arms, her joints popping faintly. She switched into a loose shirt and soft pants, comfort clothes far removed from her usual school uniform.
Her crimson eyes scanned the glowing screen one last time. The comments were still flooding in, endless waves of praise, awe, and curiosity. She closed them with a click.
"…Whatever," she murmured, though her lips twitched faintly, betraying the pride she wouldn't admit.
ANIER: "Would you like me to compile analytics of current reception?"
"No. Hibernate. I'm done for today."
ANIER: "Acknowledged. Entering hibernation mode."
The lab dimmed to near silence as the AI's presence faded. Reina lay down on the couch tucked against the corner wall, curling slightly under a thin blanket.
Her eyelids grew heavy. For the first time in days, she allowed herself to sleep deeply.
And as she drifted off, faint echoes of galaxies and stars lingered in her dreams.