Nucleus 1: The Dust of Moon [Mature Sci-fi Romance]

While Lorna undertook her Chicago mission, hunting creatures drawn to illegal Helionite dumps, she had no idea that halfway across the world, the Moondust Crystal's data was already being extracted by unwitting hands.

She wouldn't know his name for days yet, but their paths were already converging.

22:30, February 1, 2295

87F, Amber Moon Spire (琥月塔), ZenFusion Taipei branch, No. 7, Section 5, Xinyi District, Taipei, Taiwan, Imperium of Dragons territory

For generations, his people had been held captive in their own land. But they were content with their oppressive overlords of the Imperium. Everything was fine as long as they followed the rules and made money. Freedom was never needed. Or so they were told.

The woman's scream pierced through Zhi-Xin Wu's noise-canceling headphones. He adjusted the volume on his workstation, but the Bloodtrooper supervisor had locked the audio at minimum twenty percent.

Behind his black-rimmed glasses, Xin's features tensed with each new scream. The black of his short cropped hair, the white dress shirt and charcoal vest he wore showed him as another corporate drone in ZenFusion's ranks. At forty, he was now a Senior Software Engineer in Data Solutions, his skinny frame and the dark circles under his eyes showing what it meant for someone to even make it this far in their career.

Through the surveillance display next to his terminal, Xin watched Dilinur Altai work.

"The Crystal's location," Dilinur's alto voice came through. "You've spent enough time playing the martyr."

Through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the 87th floor, the city looked ominous but ironically beautiful. Dominated by the iconic pagoda-shaped tower of ZenFusion's headquarters, while smaller skyscrapers clustered around it like courtiers around an emperor.

Xin's fingers flew over his workstation, where multiple holographic interfaces floated. The central display projected a three-dimensional interface, shifting. Secondary screens surrounded him in a semicircle, running different monitoring protocols.

Another scream. The rebel's skin was beginning to bubble as Dilinur touched her.

"This is the eighth hour," the rebel said between gasps. "Your Imperium...may have taken over Taiwan. Broken it…but by Buddha, you shall not break me!"

"Nine hours would be excessive," Dilinur threatened softly. "We'll finish in eight."

Looking down through the floor panels beneath his feet, Xin could see tubes of luminescent green Helionite cycled to the building's lower levels for storage. Behind him, a Zephyrium shard the size of his fist pulsed with orange and blue light in its containment chamber, powering the Amber Moon Spire.

Around Xin, rows of other engineers worked, all pretending not to hear the torture session being broadcast to their workstations.

"We won't." the rebel shot back.

"You Sand Lotus lunatics are stubborn. Let's see…" Dilinur said, her following sentence feeling more powerful. "Maa-nik-ya Yaa-ta-naa."

The rebel's next scream came with a wet gurgling sound. Xin looked at the surveillance display. Dilinur had activated an Eclipse spell, her fingers weaving crimson patterns that pulled at the woman's blood vessels, visible through her skin like dark rivers.

"Somewhere on Osram," the rebel choked out. "The Crystal... it's on—"

"Specifics!" Dilinur commanded. "Or the next hour will feel significantly longer than the previous seven."

Xin's hands trembled over his keyboard. He was supposed to be documenting this. Instead, he found himself wondering how many others had disappeared into rooms like this, how many of his own people had screamed their last under the Imperium's ministrations.

"Wu-san," a tired voice called from next to him. "I did it."

Xin turned to see Nakamura's weathered face lit by the glow of various machines running around them. The middle-aged man was holding up a holographic document.

"The loan papers?" Xin asked, trying to distract himself from the interrogation feed.

Nakamura nodded and smiled. "Final payment on the house. My house. Twenty-three years of overtime, but I've done it. Just three more years until retirement, then my wife and I can finally—" He broke into a cough, waving off Xin's concerned look. "It's nothing. Just tired. Haven't slept more than four hours these past weeks."

"You should rest, Nakamura-san," Xin said, eyeing the Bloodtrooper supervisor stationed at the end of their row. "The quantum cores can process the fusion data without—"

"Can't stop now," Nakamura turned back to his display. "The Imperium rewards diligence, Wu-san. You'll understand when you're older. Ah, my retirement plan... just three more years..."

The older man's voice trailed off. His fingers froze over his keyboard.

"Nakamura-san?" For a moment, Xin thought he had simply dozed off – until Nakamura's head hit the desk with a dull thud. The glow of his final paycheck flashed on the screen.

Xin stood up, his chair clattering backward. "Someone help! Mister Nakamura here…he needs a doctor!"

But the surrounding engineers just stayed at their stations, looking between Xin and the approaching Bloodtroopers nervously.

"Sit down, citizen!" shouted the first trooper, his crimson armor reflecting the pulsing lights of the Zephyrium chambers. Spikes adorned his broad shoulderplates while his horned helmet concealed his expression.

"We should take him to the med bay!" Xin's voice rose. "He's been working sixteen-hour shifts for weeks without extra pay, without breaks—"

The second trooper's armored hand clamped down on Xin's shoulder, forcing him back into seat. "The Imperium rewards diligence," he recited, his voice sounding deep inside his dark red horned helmet that resembled a demonic figure from ancient folklore. "And it punishes disobedience! Return to your work."

Xin watched as they dragged Nakamura away, the dead man's retirement papers still glowing on his display.

Through his own screen, the rebel woman's tortured screams continued.

Not just the sound of Imperial justice, but a system that consumed its own people without mercy. A small price to pay for living in a society where few would starve. With the Universal Basic Income and the Employee Accountability System, poverty was nonexistent in this society — or so they were told.

The neighboring engineers resumed typing. Every month or so, Dilinur would carry out one such methodical interrogation as his team worked on finding information about the legendary Moondust Crystal. Nothing in the Imperium's great machinery had changed at all.

The interrogation feed cut out mid-scream. Xin's terminal flickered.

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"Wu Zhi-Xin," a contralto voice called from behind. Even without turning, he knew who it was.

Dilinur Altai stood by his desk, her presence commanding even more attention in person than through the surveillance feed.

At thirty-seven, she was a fine example of the Imperium's advanced cosmetic tech: her porcelain skin unmarked, maintained by treatments that cost more than most people earned in a year. Her features were striking: dark eyes like pearls, high cheekbones that could have been carved from white jade, and lips painted deep red like fresh blood. Her hair was gathered in an updo, secured by a hairpin bearing a blood-red gem that caught the light from the Helionite tubes overhead. A few loose strands framed her face.

Her traditional robe was immaculate. The black silk was embroidered with golden dragons, while the crimson inner layer revealed itself through openings that made her somewhat alluring. There were a few droplets of blood on her hairpin, evidence of the just-finished interrogation.

"Prefect Altai," Xin said. Whatever beauty Dilinur possessed was best admired from a safe distance, if at all. "I assume you've obtained the info from the Sand Lotus agent?"

"Eventually." Dilinur's fingers traced his desk, coming to rest near his keyboard. "Though I'm more interested in what you've been doing. The Crystal's coordinates should have been processed by now."

"I've been occupied with the fusion core data —"

"A task that could be handled by any miserable junior in this office," Dilinur cut him off. Her hand moved from the desk to his shoulder. "You're special, Xin. That's why ZenFusion gave you Ume, isn't it? Such a generous gift."

Xin's hands froze over his keyboard. The mention of Ume's name from Dilinur's lips sent ice through his veins.

"She's waiting for you at home right now, yes?" Dilinur's grip tightened fractionally. "It would be a shame if she were...recalled. ZenFusion's generosity has limits, after all. Just ask your colleague Nakamura about corporate benefits." She smiled, the expression never reaching her dark brown eyes. "Oh wait."

"W-what do you want?" Xin whispered.

"The Crystal's data. Compiled, encrypted, and stored in the level 117 cluster, with admin-level access for Governor Qin. You have twenty minutes." She leaned closer. "I'll be watching. Try anything clever, and Ume gets terminated."

Around them, the other engineers kept typing. None looked up as Dilinur straightened, adjusting her bloodstained hairpin.

"Twenty minutes," she repeated. "Show me why ZenFusion considers you so valuable."

Xin's fingers flew across his haptic interface. The Zephyrium shard behind him pulsed faster, responding to the increased power draw as he initialized multiple quantum processors simultaneously. On his main display, a three-dimensional map of Osram began taking shape, its craters and valleys rendered in crystalline detail.

"Nineteen minutes," Dilinur announced, standing closer. "The encryptiond for level 117 are complex. I do hope you're not wasting time."

He wasn't. The Sand Lotus rebel's interrogation had yielded coordinates, fragments of ancient maps, and cryptic references to lunar formations. Now those pieces floated around his display as he wove them into a cohesive dataset. Each fragment had to be verified, cross-referenced, and encoded with encryption.

"Thirteen minutes," Dilinur said again.

Xin forced himself to breathe, to focus. The map was almost complete – a topographical of dark craters and unexplored regions. Somewhere in that lunar wilderness lay the Crystal.

The Helionite tubes beneath the floor pulsed with a sickly green light as his systems processed the massive dataset. Other engineers had stopped typing as they watched him work.

"Seven minutes," Dilinur whispered. Her hand came to rest on the back of his chair. "I'm curious, Xin. When you visit Ume tonight, will you tell her how close she came to deactivation? Or will you hold her in the dark, grateful that your skills proved... adequate?"

The final pieces of data fell into place. The encryption protocols wrapped around the dataset. Xin initiated the transfer to level 117's secure cluster, watching the progress bar.

"And — transfer complete," he announced, his voice hoarse. "Stored on Cluster 6865. Encoded to Governor Qin's biosignature specifications, with an additional master key. You can verify—"

"Rest assured, I will." Dilinur's fingers traced up from his chair to his shoulder. "For Ume's sake, I hope your work is perfect."

The quantum displays dimmed as the system processed his massive data transfer.

Dilinur leaned closer, her finger tracing along a section of code on his display. "This sequence here," she said as her ebony fingernail paused above a function. "It seems redundant. Explain."

Xin's heart skipped. She'd found the foundation of his backdoor – the fragment that would later allow him to access what should be inaccessible. He recalled the days when they had both studied Information Management at Taipei Imperial Institute, back when Dilinur was not a cruel, heartless Prefect but 'Dinu the Flower of Class C'.

She had selected virtually the same courses as Xin, not because they thought alike, but because she was too busy attending after-class social parties, cultivating connections with authorities. He would always lend her his assignments to ensure they both passed with straight A grades.

In return, Dilinur would pretend to be his girlfriend during Imperial Population Management inspections, shielding him from the mandatory social integration evaluations that had sent so many "abnormally introverted" citizens to reeducation facilities.

He wondered if Dilinur still remembered that chapter of their lives.

But now was not the time for things that could never be. His mind raced, assembling a technical lie that would satisfy her. She didn't need to understand. She only needed to believe that she did.

"Pattern regeneration protocol," he answered, trying to sound calm. "If someone attempts to hack or corrupt the Crystal's data from outside, this segment creates dynamic replacement matrices that preserve the original structure." He gestured to the code.

The lie tasted bitter in his mouth. If there was one thing Xin despised more than the Imperium's casual cruelty, it was dishonesty. As a child, he'd once refused to speak for three days after his mother lied about their family history to an Imperial census taker.

Even now, he could recite the lesson his grandfather had whispered when they were alone: "Truth is the only wealth that cannot be stolen from you."

Yet here he was, spinning falsehoods with ease. The irony wasn't lost on him: he was lying to protect his chance to finally reveal a truth.

Dilinur studied him for a moment. Then she nodded once, seemingly satisfied. "Acceptable work. I'll test the master key later this week."

She turned to leave, then paused. "Remember to document the interrogation footage. The Imperium's records must be thorough."

The click of her heels faded into the hum of fusion cores. Around him, the other engineers gradually resumed their work.

Xin let out a sigh of relief as his hands moved mechanically over his keyboard, transcribing the torture he'd witnessed. But as he typed, his fingers created something else: a hidden subroutine. A backdoor into the very data he'd just encrypted.

His heart pounded with each keystroke, knowing discovery would mean worse than death. It would mean losing Ume.

He glanced at Nakamura's empty workstation, the retirement papers still glowing on the display. The tubes of Helionite beneath his feet pulsed their sickly green light, carrying away the waste of progress, feeding the very monsters they feared.

As the transfer completed, Xin allowed himself a moment of satisfaction. The Moondust Crystal—whatever it truly was—represented power beyond imagination. The Imperium wanted it. The Terra Alliance would kill for it.

Xin rubbed his exhausted eyes, another eighteen-hour shift blurring his vision. He glanced at the window, and there it was again – that pull toward the moon. The feeling that somewhere, others were looking up at the same silver disc, feeling the same inexplicable connection.

His workstation chimed. The code was still there. And the weird feeling lingered.

"Hey, did you watch the news? There's another Radi-Mon attack in the Americas. Chicago this time." A colleague nearby whispered as he looked around nervously, making sure there were no guards nearby.

"Those Alliance pigs deserve it. I bet the Radi-Mons attacked because of some illegally dumped Helionite." Another replied dismissively.

"But don't we have dump sites on the island's east, too? And there's the sewage under the city..."

"Shh! You want the Bloodtroopers to hear us? Shut up!"

"Just do your work, Chen. Everything will be fine." A third co-worker chimed in carefully.

Xin listened quietly, wondering if the world was ready for what would happen when someone finally claimed it.

A message flashed on his display: 'SHIFT COMPLETE - 23:30'.

Xin shut down his terminal, pocketing a dark green quantum drive so small it barely made a bulge. Standing made his head spin – how long had it been since he'd eaten? Slept? The dates blurred together.

"Goodnight, Wu-san," one of his colleagues murmured as he passed. They all understood. In the Imperium, survival meant keeping your head down, your opinions silent, your conscience blind.

But as Xin walked toward a Quantum Lift at the end of the hallway, past the bloodstains where they'd dragged Nakamura away, he felt something within him: The Imperium's machinery would never stop on its own.

Someone would have to break it.

The elevator's doors closed on the 87th floor of the Amber Moon Spire, carrying him down toward home, toward Ume. Behind him, the interrogation room waited for its next victim, while somewhere on Osram, a Crystal held secrets worth dying – or killing – for.

"Wait for me, Ume," he whispered, invoking the name like a talisman.