I wasn't expecting much from the evening.
Just dinner in the academy canteen — bland nutrition cubes shaped like burgers, stale air, Musa arguing about whether Earth invented the bicycle kick (he swears it was Nigeria, I said Brazil, he threatened to kick me), and maybe some solo time in the analysis lab.
But then she walked in.
And everything stopped not just for me, for the room.
Even the Martians turned their heads.
She was tall. Confident. Hair like obsidian glass pulled into a high braid. Skin the color of soft bronze. Eyes?
I can't even describe them.
Not brown. Not hazel. Something else. Like golden light caught inside storm clouds. Like someone took a supernova and chilled it.
She walked like the room belonged to her. Not arrogantly — just with that kind of natural control you can't teach. Like gravity paid her rent.
And yeah — she looked human but she wasn't.
I didn't know how I knew. I just did.
You can't fake presence like that.
---
Musa leaned in, whispering with food still in his mouth.
"Yo. That's her."
"Her?"
> "The Arkan girl."
"Arkan?"
He nodded. "Planet Arka IV. Outer ring. Neutral sector. Super advanced. Super private. They barely let their own off-world."
"What's she doing here?"
> "Diplomatic placement, I think. Or trial program. She's technically not supposed to be with general population. Definitely not supposed to talk to us."
"Why?"
> "Because we suck."
"Fair."
We watched her sit at an isolated table by the window. No tray. No food. Just a glowing data orb hovering in front of her as she scrolled through what looked like twenty different documents.
Musa sighed. "She's got a name, too. Something poetic. Starts with an 'E'…"
"Like… Ella?"
> "Nah. Fancier. Something you whisper in a dream and forget when you wake up."
I didn't say anything. I couldn't because in that moment?
She looked up, right at me. Not around. Not toward.
At. Me.
Like she already knew my name.
Like she was waiting.
---
Later that night, I couldn't sleep.
I went for a walk. The dome sky was simulating dusk — purple clouds, orange moonlight, stars flickering above the academy's glass ceilings.
I ended up near the east wing. Quiet. Off-limits unless you were part of the diplomat program or one of the elite scholars.
Then I heard a voice.
> "I know you're following me."
I turned.
She was standing there, alone and with her arms folded.
I nearly tripped over my own feet. "What— I wasn't. I mean, I didn't— I wasn't trying to—"
> "You're not subtle."
"I wasn't trying to be," I said, straightening up. "I was just… walking."
She raised an eyebrow. "To the restricted wing?"
"…Okay maybe I took a wrong turn."
A pause.
Then she smiled — just a flicker.
"Vega. Alejandro. Midfielder. Recently recovered from Martian trauma. Stat profile: decent. Current trajectory: unstable."
I blinked. "You googled me?"
> "I don't use Google."
Another pause.
"Who are you?"
She took a step closer. Just one.
Her eyes locked onto mine.
> "You already know."
My heart pounded.
> "Say it."
"…You're the Arkan girl."
> "And?"
"…You're not supposed to be talking to me."
She leaned in slightly. "Then it's a good thing I don't follow the rules."
The screen flickered in the corner of my vision.
> [NEW SYSTEM INPUT DETECTED]
⚠️ Emotional Stimulus Detected: "Curiosity, Attraction, Caution"
🧬 Unlocked Potential Event Chain: "Entanglement Route: ???"
She turned to leave.
But paused — just long enough to drop a name over her shoulder like a spell:
"Elira."
Then she vanished into the corridor shadows.
---
I stood there, breath caught, brain spinning, heart doing Cruyff turns in my chest.
Elira.
Not human. Not supposed to talk to me. Definitely trouble.
And somehow… the most interesting thing in my world right now.
Even more than the GOAT System.
Which was still glowing quietly.
Still watching.