He stepped out from the orphanage grounds, the wooden door closing softly behind him with a faint creak that lingered in the quiet morning air. The sound of his footsteps against the stone path echoed faintly through the stillness. The building's pale walls, aged by countless dawns, glowed softly beneath the warm sunlight that spread slowly across the street. A thin layer of fog hovered just above the ground, weaving between the scattered stones and the edges of the narrow road, curling around his ankles as he walked.
Ahead, two figures stood by the gate — the first was Galax, with his short brown hair glinting under the sunlight and eyes a deep, vivid red that reflected both energy and restlessness. His posture was easy, confident, his hands resting on his hips as he spoke to the other figure beside him. That other person was Meriana, the girl whose golden-blonde hair fell softly down her back, catching the morning light until it shimmered like spun silk. Her blue eyes were clear and calm, gazing toward the road that stretched ahead.
Asfinne approached, the faint crunch of gravel beneath his shoes drawing their attention. The early sun warmed his shoulders, though the air still held a trace of chill from the night. Galax noticed him first and turned, his bright expression instantly shifting to a grin.
"Let's wait for Sonia and Merian first," Galax said, his voice carrying lightly in the air.
The three of them — Galax, Meriana, and Asfinne — stood together at the edge of the stone path. For a while, none of them spoke. The silence wasn't uncomfortable, just calm, filled with the soft rustle of wind that moved through the alleyways and the faint echo of bells ringing from somewhere far away — perhaps from a distant clock tower signaling the hour.
They waited patiently. Shadows of passing clouds drifted across the ground, dimming and brightening the world in a slow rhythm. Asfinne looked around, his gaze tracing the surrounding area — the narrow streets that wound between tall, metallic structures and half-collapsed walls. There was little greenery here; only small patches of grass pushing through cracks in the stone, defiant and thin. The faint hum of machinery could be heard in the distance — the pulse of a city that breathed not through nature, but through the rhythm of gears and pipes.
After some time, two more figures appeared at the far end of the street, walking toward them.
The first was a girl Asfinne immediately recognized — her crimson-red hair was tied back, swaying behind her as she walked. Her golden eyes glimmered beneath the light, sharp and alive with fiery emotion. Her expression carried a hint of irritation, though there was also warmth hidden beneath her defiant posture. Asfinne couldn't help but smile faintly to himself; in his heart, he already knew — this must be Sonia.
He remembered what Alenya had told him back in the kitchen earlier that morning. Sonia was the one who had stayed by his bedside through the night, ensuring he was safe while he slept. That thought brought a strange mix of gratitude and unease. She didn't look like the kind of person who would quietly watch over someone. Yet, perhaps, that was precisely what made her special.
Walking beside her was a boy — quiet, with shoulder-length black hair that fell in soft, uneven strands around his face. His dark eyes were calm, deep, and hard to read, like still water reflecting a hidden depth. His pace was slow, deliberate, almost careful. This was Merian.
Though Asfinne couldn't recall much about him, there was something gentle in the boy's demeanor, something composed — as if silence itself followed him like a shadow.
As the two approached, Galax folded his arms and tilted his head, smirking playfully.
"What took you so long, you two?" he called out, his voice teasing.
Sonia exhaled sharply, her irritation showing instantly.
"Merian eats slower than anyone I've ever met. I was going to leave without him, but he asked me to wait," she replied, her tone sharp but not truly unkind.
Her words carried that familiar spark — impatience wrapped around care.
Merian laughed softly, rubbing the back of his neck in quiet embarrassment.
"I always eat slowly," he said in a low voice, a shy smile tugging at his lips. "Sorry about that."
Galax chuckled, shaking his head lightly.
"It's fine," he said with his usual cheerfulness. "But if we don't hurry, we'll be late. Come on, let's get moving."
His words carried a note of leadership — casual but sure. He began walking down the street, his shadow stretching long across the cobblestones.
The others followed.
The five of them — Galax, Sonia, Meriana, Merian, and Asfinne — moved together through the morning light. Their footsteps blended with the soft hum of the city: the faint whirring of distant turbines, the metallic rhythm of gears turning behind walls, the echo of unseen machinery pulsing beneath the ground.
This city — the one that surrounded them — was unlike the kind of place where nature thrived. Its air was tinged with the faint scent of oil and iron. The sky, though bright, seemed veiled by a thin silver haze. The streets were lined not with trees but with tall lampposts, their bases made of dark steel, wires winding like veins around them. Every corner held the trace of invention — rusted pipes, steam vents, and distant lights that flickered with mechanical heartbeat.
Yet, amidst all that lifeless brilliance, the presence of these five young souls gave the city a pulse of warmth.
As they walked, sunlight spilled across their faces. Galax led the way, his steps brisk and confident, while Sonia walked beside him, her arms crossed and her expression still slightly annoyed. Merian followed quietly, his gaze drifting toward the ground, thoughtful and calm. Behind them, Meriana's golden hair shimmered softly with each movement, brushing against Asfinne's arm every so often as they walked side by side.
Asfinne stayed silent most of the way, his thoughts tangled. He didn't fully understand where they were headed or what awaited them at the "Security Inspection Station." The name alone carried a sense of authority — something important, maybe even dangerous. But he didn't ask. Instead, he simply watched the others, learning through their gestures, their tone, the way they moved.
For a moment, he looked up — the sun now higher, gleaming faintly off the glass windows and metal beams that lined the city's skyline. In the distance, the faint outline of a tall tower rose into the sky, its surface covered with shimmering silver panels. That, he thought, might be where they were going.
The faint wind that blew through the alley carried with it the soft murmurs of distant voices, the rattle of carts, and the faint chime of metallic bells swinging gently from a shop window somewhere far behind them.
Asfinne took a deep breath. The air was cool, slightly sharp from the scent of metal, yet somehow still invigorating. Each step forward felt heavier — not from fatigue, but from the quiet weight of uncertainty pressing against his chest.
Still, there was something strangely comforting in walking with the others. The rhythm of their footsteps, the faint sound of Galax's laughter up ahead, and even Sonia's sharp voice cutting through the morning air — all of it made the strange city feel a little less cold.
And so, together, the five of them continued down the narrow, winding road — toward the unknown silhouette of the Security Inspection Station, where new questions, new truths, and perhaps new bonds awaited them beneath the endless glow of this metal-born sky.
As they walked along the empty street together, the sound of their footsteps blended into a faint rhythm — soft and steady, like a quiet melody that lingered beneath the breath of the city. The clatter of their shoes against the cracked stone echoed lightly through the hollow air, a reminder that this place was far from lively. The narrow road stretched onward, flanked by tall metallic structures that loomed over them like giant arms reaching down to hold the earth still.
Morning sunlight filtered weakly through a thin layer of mist, painting faint beams of gold across their hair and faces. The city seemed peaceful — almost beautiful — but its beauty was carved from cold steel and silence, not from life.
Then came the sound of wheels — sharp, quick, deliberate. A black carriage passed by them from behind, the wooden wheels creaking as they rolled over the uneven stones. The polished body of the carriage gleamed under the sunlight, its surface reflecting the pale sky. A faint cloud of dust rose in its wake, drifting gently before settling back onto the cracked street. The rhythmic clatter of hooves faded into the distance, swallowed by the emptiness around them.
Above them, a skyship drifted silently, its shadow stretching long across the ground. It floated high, almost touching the clouds — an elegant silhouette against the pale blue. The metal hull caught the light, shimmering like liquid silver, while the faint hum of its engines pulsed softly through the air. It was a sight that felt distant, almost unreal — something from a world far grander than the quiet streets below.
This was District 9, one of the city's outer sectors. Few people lived here anymore. The streets were too empty, too still. It bordered District 10 — the harshest and most difficult district to survive in — and the closeness to that place made even the air feel heavy.
Galax walked ahead, his hands buried casually in his coat pockets, brown hair catching the light as he turned to glance at Meriana. A playful smile curved on his lips as he spoke.
"This is your first time going to the Security Station, isn't it?"
Meriana nodded slightly, her golden hair glinting under the sunlight like soft threads of gold. She looked shy but calm, her blue eyes reflecting a faint sense of curiosity.
Galax chuckled softly, his tone easy and reassuring.
"Well, the truth is — our job isn't that dangerous."
He lifted his gaze toward the pale sky above. "We just keep an eye on the station while the adults are working. Maybe do a little patrol, that's all."
Meriana nodded again, understanding. "I see." Her voice was soft, but clear, and the corners of her lips curved into a small, genuine smile.
Behind them, Asfinne walked quietly, listening without a word. The wind brushed against his hair, carrying the faint metallic scent that always lingered in this part of the city. The gentle flow of their conversation blended seamlessly with the hum of faraway machinery — the steady pulse of the city's hidden heart.
As they continued, the scenery around them changed. They passed small houses — old, worn-down structures patched together with pieces of metal. Many windows were boarded shut; others glowed faintly from within, the dim light barely visible through cracks in the walls. Somewhere nearby, an old engine sputtered and coughed — a fragile sound, like the heartbeat of something struggling to stay alive.
When they reached the main street, they crossed carefully. The road was wide, scarred with faded markings and stained by oil. From beneath the ground came the faint metallic rumble of pipes and gears — the unseen veins of the city, still moving beneath its tired skin.
Finally, after a long walk through narrow alleys and quiet turns, the five of them arrived at their destination. Before them stood a large, imposing building — the Security Maintenance Station.
It was tall, built of dark steel that gleamed faintly under the light. The emblem of the security division was mounted above the massive front door — a symbol of authority and vigilance. The black metal doors reflected their figures as they stood before them, and above those doors, silver letters spelled out Security Check Station.
The wind passed through, carrying the soft metallic chime of a loose sign swinging gently by the entrance — clang… clang… — the sound crisp and lonely.
Galax stepped forward first, pushing the door. It opened slowly with a low, mechanical groan, like something ancient awakening from sleep. Inside, the light was bright — stark white from rows of electric lamps reflecting off the metal floor. The air smelled faintly of oil and steel.
One by one, they entered.
Asfinne was the last to step inside. He looked up at the ceiling where thick pipes and wires stretched in complex patterns overhead. Somewhere deeper in the building, the low hum of engines filled the silence.
The place felt vast — cold yet alive, mechanical yet breathing — a place of order, duty, and hidden power.
And it was here, within those steel walls, that their day would begin.