Wind moved softly through the rice terraces, bending the yellowed stalks like an ocean of glass. From the edge of the field, where the old irrigation pipes still murmured faintly, the house stood — a patchwork of steel and wood, sunlight caught between its panels.
Inside, the smell of boiled herbs mingled with dust and solder. Dr. Sarinee Anava sat by the table, one hand on a cracked monitor screen that struggled to project a fading research document. Its title flickered in and out of visibility:
"Preliminary Hypothesis on Synthetic Qi Resonance as a Neural Stabilization Medium…Recovered Manuscript, Unknown Author.Curatorial Notes by Wanchai — Central Sector Dome Settlement (CSDS) Archive Division."
Wanchai's annotated margin notes marked certain sections with warnings and cross-references — humble, careful handwriting rather than scientific theory.
Behind her, a gentle melody rose — strings plucked unevenly, almost shy.
Her sister, Mei Ling, sat cross-legged by the window, a small instrument in her hands — a frame made from copper wire and bone, strung with filament scavenged from old drones.
"Play it again," Sarinee said softly, without turning.
Mei Ling laughed — a bright sound that made the thin walls seem less fragile.
"You only like my tunes only when you are about to do some make up for me, what are you planning now, sis," she teased.
"I haven't planed anything, you brat," Sarinee lied.
The tune began again — a trembling lullaby that drifted over the hum of the solar lamps. For a while, there was only sound — simple, nostalgic, but meaningful to the both of them.
Mei Ling coughed, "Ouhg…Oug.."
A dark stain bloomed across her sleeve.
Sarinee froze. Her hand jerked — the tablet clattered off the table. She was at Mei Ling's side in a heartbeat, lifting her sister's small shoulders, pressing a trembling hand to her forehead.
"Not again," Sarinee whispered. "No… no, not again."
The medical wrist scanner blinked weakly — its display cracked but functional.
Neural Degeneration Pattern Detected. Progression Rate: 73%.
The sound of wind outside grew louder, moaning through the cracks in the wall.
Mei Ling smiled through the pain, her voice faint.
"Don't look like that. I'll be fine."
"Don't say that word, drink some warm herbal tea here first." Sarinee said sharply.
Her voice broke.
Mei Ling's fingers—shaking and streaked with blood—touched Sarinee's cheek.
"You worry too much," she whispered. "You always do."
Sarinee swallowed. "Of course I do. I studied medicine before you could even walk. If I can't save you, what was the point of Father and Mother's teachings?"
The scanner beeped; the cracked monitor flickered with that half-corrupted research file again:
"If synthetic Qi resonance can align with living neural—"
Static devoured the rest.
Sarinee stared at the frozen fragment. Synthetic Qi… neural alignment…
The pieces made sense in her mind — dangerously, achingly so.
But she needed knowledge.
She needed data no civilian could possibly access.
She crossed the room, knelt by the old irrigation console, and opened a hidden compartment. Inside, an illegal long-range transmitter lay coiled in dust — a relic from the early Network era.
She powered it up. Its core gave a faint red pulse.
Sarinee whispered into the transmitter:
"Priority Request: Medical. Neuro-degeneration. Any surviving researcher with synthetic-Qi resonance data… please respond."
No answer.
Only static.
She expected as much.
She turned back to Mei Ling, who looked smaller than ever.
"You don't have to go…" Mei Ling breathed. "Just… stay."
"If I stay, I lose you." Sarinee forced a smile. "Give me time."
Sarinee eased Mei Ling onto the bed, adjusting her sister's weight with careful, practiced hands.
She unfolded the collapsible bio-partition — a portable sterile capsule that clicked and locked into place around the mattress. Soft blue light bled from its seams, washing Mei Ling in a faint, protective glow.
The seal hissed shut, isolating her in a pocket of clean air.
As Mei Ling drifted toward sleep, her eyelids fluttered.
A single tear slid from the corner of her right eye — silent, fragile, unnoticed by Sarinee as she stood up.
Then the security unit stirred.
Guardian-4, the battered canine-frame robot, rose from standby. Its joints whined softly, optics brightening from dull amber to a steady red. Its head rotated toward the sealed partition, posture shifting into vigilance mode.
The machine waited for Sarinee's command,
while inside the cocoon, Mei Ling's tear traced the curve of her cheek
and disappeared into the sterile cushion beneath her.
"Silent mode. Full protective protocol," Sarinee ordered softly.
"Stay beside her. Call me if there's any emergency. Don't fail me, kay."
The robot dipped its head.
Outside, thunder rolled.
The wind pressed cold fingers under the doorframe.
Sarinee stepped out, pulling her coat close.
The house behind her was just a fragile box of metal and wood — and inside it lay the only family she had left.
The robot's emitter glowed faintly in acknowledgment.
Outside, thunder rolled across the distant hills. The air turned colder.
She walked east, toward the mist-shrouded horizon where the old Aerospace Institute's broken domes hid behind storm clouds.
"Wait for me, Mei Ling," she whispered.
Thunder cracked open the sky.
The wind pushed cold rain sideways across the fields.
Sarinee swung her leg over the thorium-powered motorcycle. The engine gave a low, steady hum—clean, constant, a soft blue glow pulsing beneath the chassis. She checked the straps securing the med-kit in the sidecar, then wiped the rain from her face.
One last glance at the small house behind her, a slight hesitation appeared in her eyes, yet she coudnt afford any doubt, then she throttled forward, wheels spitting mud as she accelerated into the darkness.
The motorcycle's headlamp carved a narrow tunnel through the ash-laden air.
She didn't notice the faint light pulsing inside her home, nor the sound from the tablet set at the bedside table.
Her tablet—left behind beside Mei Ling—pinged once.
Then twice.
A sharp, urgent tone she hadn't heard in years.
The cracked screen flickered to life:
Incoming Encrypted Relay — Source: Wanchai (Central Sector Dome Settlement - CSDS).
Text scrolled slowly across the fractured display:
"A boy named 'Kaodin' is carrying the recovered neural-Qi dossier.""It contains all surviving fragments and curatorial notes.
Meet him. He can provide protection for you and your sister and will be able escort to CSDS."
A second line struggled to appear, half-corrupted, half-legible:
"This may be the cure you're looking for."
The message glowed unanswered in the darkness.
Mei Ling slept inside the bio-partition, breaths shallow but steady.
The security canine-unit watched over her with silent red optics, unaware of the importance of the transmission.
Outside, Sarinee was already kilometers away—
motorcycle humming through wind,
coat whipping behind her,
eyes narrowed against the storm.
She pushed forward toward the distant biolab, believing she had only wilderness — and death — ahead of her.
She had no idea that hope had already arrived.
No idea that the answer she needed now lay on a forgotten tablet, blinking alone in the dark.
And somewhere out there,
on a path she was already riding toward,
a boy carried the single thread of salvation she didn't yet know existed.