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

16:20, January 15, 2284

Somewhere in Värmland Forest, Sweden, Nordic Commonwealth Territory

The secluded pond was nestled within the verdant embrace of the Värmland Forest, the water shimmering like liquid silver beneath the afternoon sun. Pines towered around them, birdsong accompanying their laughter.

They had shed their clothes earlier, leaving them in careless piles on the mossy bank. In the privacy of this forest, their nakedness felt natural, uncomplicated. Sigrún had watched Sven enter the water first, admiring the play of muscles across his snow white back, his movements confident.

Sigrún Fjeld splashed playfully in the clear water, her carefree laughter ringing out like music through the trees. Here, far from the university's pressures and her father's expectations, she felt truly herself. Eighteen and brimming with possibilities, the future was hers.

"Come on, Sven! The water's perfect!" she called, watching him wade deeper toward her.

Sven Solheim grinned, the afternoon sun catching in his wheat-gold hair. At twenty-three, he was someone who knew exactly what he wanted from life. Someone Sigrún could depend on. His eyes, a blue mirroring hers, crinkled as he gazed. In these moments, Sigrún could believe she was the only woman in the universe.

She dunked herself underwater, then emerged with a dramatic flourish, her hair—a shimmering veil of gold—tumbling over her shoulders as droplets sparkled on her skin like diamonds. Her eyes, an ocean of sapphire, reflected the sky above as she caught Sven watching her with adoration.

"What?" she asked, suddenly self-conscious.

They stood facing each other, the cool water lapping at their hips, bodies half-submerged in the crystalline pond. Sven's hands reached for Sigrún, his touch gentle as he traced the curves of her shoulders down to where the water kissed her skin just above her breasts. His blue eyes never left hers as their bodies drew closer. She shivered, suddenly aware of every inch where the water touched her bare body and everywhere it didn't.

"You're…the most beautiful woman in all Five Realms, Sigrún," Sven whispered, his voice hoarse.

"I've been hearing that a lot recently, Sven," Sigrún retorted playfully, though she couldn't help the flutter in her stomach. "Maybe try something more original this time?"

His laugh was soft, almost shy. "Original? How about this—I've never met anyone who makes me feel like I could take on the entire Imperium single-handed."

She rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress her smile. "That's better. Though still a bit dramatic."

"Well, I've been thinking..." Sven paused, suddenly serious as his hands lingered on her waist, thumbs tracing small circles against her skin. "You know about that Nordling settlement on the equatorial region of Europa? There's a cottage up for sale. Small, but with a view of Jupiter that would make the most jaded spacer weep!"

"Europa?" Sigrún's heart quickened. "That's...far, Sven."

"That's the point." His eyes held hers, earnest. "Away from all this Earth nonsense. Alliance, Imperium, Directorate. The politics, the tension, the uncertainty. Just us, building something real."

"But how would we even get there?" she asked in a soft voice, not daring to hope yet finding herself drawn into his vision. He took her hand, raising it to chest height, his larger hand wrapping around her fingers as if protecting them from an unseen threat.

"I'm thinking ice cube hauling jobs," Sven said, a hint of excitement creeping into his voice. "Plenty of Atomic Dollars to be made transporting water between Europa and other Jovian moons. They're always short of haulers."

She bit her lip, considering. "Isn't that something with a 10-hour shift in freezing conditions? I've heard stories about frostbite and—"

"The pay is good," he interrupted, his response instant but gentle. "And less dangerous than fighting them Radi-Mons here. The Nordic Commonwealth Bank's offering settlement loans for anyone willing to colonize the Jovian moons. We could take one out—enough for passage and the cottage. Then figure things out from there."

A cool breeze rippled across the pond, raising goosebumps on Sigrún's exposed shoulders. "You really think we could just...leave? Start over somewhere else?"

Sven's gaze dropped momentarily, a flicker of doubt crossing his features before he looked back at her. "To be honest, I'm not sure. But with you, I feel anything is possible. We'll figure it out together."

The simplicity of his answer made her chest ache. How different he was from her father and all his cryptic plans, all his secretive experiments.

"Together," Sigrún echoed, tasting the word on her tongue. Her cheeks flushed, her heart fluttering at the possibilities his words conjured. A life beyond Earth. Beyond her father's shadow. Beyond the constraints of being Sigrún Fjeld, the illegitimate daughter of the Archmage.

She nodded as she leaned in closer, inhaling the scent of sweat emanating from him.

Their lips met, softly at first, their mouths tasting each other with timidness. His lips tasted of the wild berries they'd picked earlier, sweet and tart. She inhaled his scent again, this time mingled with the distinctly Nordic smell of cold air and cedar. Her hands found their way to his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath her palm. Their bodies pressed together — skin against skin, without barriers. They were each other's first.

His hand traced the curve of her spine, following its arc down to where the water lapped against her back, while her fingers tangled in his hair. She felt she weighted nothing under his touch, her body responding with a hunger she hadn't known existed in her. They sank deeper into the water, their limbs tangling beneath the surface, their mouths never parting as they explored each other's bodies with shy hands and mutual encouragements.

In that moment, Sigrún closed her eyes, imagining. Europa. A cottage. A life untroubled by politics, war and the weight of their people's heritage.

How could she have known that in mere weeks, the man who held her with such tenderness would transform into the monster who would haunt her nightmares? That the gentle hands caressing her skin would become twisted appendages capable of unspeakable violence?

The sunlight reflecting off the water suddenly seemed too bright, painful. The birdsong turned discordant. Something was wrong—the water was growing warmer, too warm, almost scalding—

Reality shifted, taking her to the next fragment of her dreams.

10:44, March 5, 2287

Aurora Plaza, Öresund District, Lund, Sweden, Nordic Commonwealth Territory

The door hissed open, and Sigrún stepped into the wintery morning, her heart pounding. Freedom never tasted so sweet.

Three years of working as a Leased Lily for Finn Lindberg after class. Three years of feigned affection and transactional sex, of unintentionally following in her late mother's footsteps just to save enough money. Soon, she'd graduate from Lund University and get a one-way ticket to Europa, leaving Earth and all the degeneracy that tainted her college years behind.

Her Quantum Watch pinged with a notification – her latest payment from Finn had cleared. 4,500 Atomic Dollars, for her services in February, bringing her total to 69,850 AD. Almost there. The civilian shuttle ticket to Europa cost 75,000 AD – an astronomical sum that represented years of her life traded away. Most people would call her insane for spending that kind of money on a one-way trip to Jupiter's frozen moon, but most people weren't searching for their father.

She'd already made the initial booking, paying the 5,000 AD deposit. Just one more session with Finn, and she'd have enough for the final payment. Then she'd be free – free to find her father, free from Finn's possessive gaze, free from this life she'd built out of desperation.

Her only regret was that Sven could not come with her.

The cold bit through her skin as she walked, student laughter echoing around the plaza.

"Excuse me, Sigrún? Sigrún Fjeld?" a deep, weary voice called from behind.

She turned to see an older man with short gray hair, a neat beard, and tan skin. He wore a brown suit with a slightly messy tie, breathing hard as he looked at her with piercing green eyes.

"Thorin," she said, steadier than she felt. "I didn't expect to see you here again."

"Neither did I..." he replied, reaching out one hand.

She stepped back, clutching the silver Nordic pendant on her neck, the blue jewel glowing, her white winter coat pulled tight. "No, the Pendant is still mine."

Thorin sighed and lowered his hand. "It is yours. I will not pursue any further. That enough?"

"Do you want something from me, then?" she asked.

"Have you seen Ysolde?" Thorin blurted, anxiety clear on his face. "I've been trying to reach her but she hasn't answered my calls for almost a month now."

Sigrún noticed the worry on his face and the scars that hinted at past battles.

She'd heard rumors that Ysolde's father was some kind of soldier, though no one knew who he worked for. But Thorin always dressed well, sometimes too well.

"Well, Ysolde and I are both in the same club," Sigrún said. Seeing his distress made her tension ease, replaced by sympathy. "I can help you find her."

Thorin visibly relaxed, his shoulders dropping. Sigrún caught a glimpse of fatherly fear in his eyes. She wondered if he knew about Ysolde's thing for Sven. Many girls chased Sven, but rumor had it he saw Ysolde as just a friend with benefits.

"Thank you, Sigrún. You have a kind heart," he said, relief in his voice.

"Let's start at the club," she said with new resolve as they walked together. She lifted her wrist and dialed on the holographic display above her silver white Quantum Watch.

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After a few rings, a voice message played: "Hey, this is Izzy. I'm occupied with my own things right now. Please leave a message and I'll get back to you. Promise!"

"Ysolde, it's Synne. Your father has been searching for you. Please respond when you can," Sigrún said into her watch, feeling the winter wind in her blonde hair.

"I've done that plenty of times myself, but with my colleague's watch," Thorin sighed, his breath visible in the cold.

"You don't have your own Quantum Watch, Mr. Hǫggson?" Sigrún asked as they passed curious students. "My dad bought one for me but never told me how much it cost."

"No, Synne. Not every household can afford a device that performs billions of operations per second or makes interplanetary calls," Thorin chuckled. "I heard in the Digital Age, everyone had cheap metal and plastic tablets to communicate whenever they wanted. Hard to imagine."

"The history books say those 'smartphone' things were addictive," Sigrún shrugged as they slowed down. "My pa said it caused the collapse of the Old World. Don't remember the details, though."

They walked in silent company for a few minutes, the winter morning sun illuminating their path from above.

"The outbreak in Oslo has quieted down." Thorin said, though with a gentler voice. "The governer has reached out to both the Alliance and the Imperium. Both are sending help."

"I hope Pappa is okay…" Sigrún sighed, rubbing her forehead. "The pendant tells me he's alive. But I wish I knew where…or how…"

"Harald is a brilliant scholar. I'm sure he'll find a way to you eventually." Thorin nodded slightly. "Don't let it weigh you down. He would want you to focus on yourself."

"Thank you. I'll try," Sigrún said as they walked together through the snowy university grounds.

11:14, March 5, 2287

Astra Lyceum, Öresund District, Lund, Sweden, Nordic Commonwealth Territory

Sigrún's boots crunched against the polished marble floor as she and Thorin entered the Astra Lyceum, her silver-white Quantum Watch gleaming on her wrist.

The old building's grandeur did little to ease the tension. Around them, the sounds of chatter and shifting seats filled the air, somehow distant, as if the world beyond had faded away.

As they approached the main chamber, the doors opened silently, revealing seated students focused on the stage where a single figure stood in a beam of soft white light.

Ysolde stood on stage, her face flushed with passion as her voice echoed across the hall. The light made her auburn hair shimmer like copper. Dressed in a deep indigo tunic, she seemed both fragile and unyielding as she addressed the crowd, her piercing green eyes scanning the audience.

"— my fellow Nordlings and Valorans. We have been oppressed, made to believe we are lesser in our own land," Ysolde's voice rang out with a fervor that made Sigrún's chest tighten. "But no more! It's time for us to rise up — with a power that's been kept from us for generations!"

The students murmured in agreement, but it was the object in her hand that caught Sigrún's attention. A small vial caught the light, glowing eerily. The mauve liquid inside swirled slowly, dark lilac strains dancing within it.

Next to Sigrún, Thorin's breath caught. "The vial!" he hissed.

Thorin rushed forward, his hand moving to a silver cylinder at his belt. "Ysolde!" he yelled, his voice echoing through the hall.

The crowd gasped, turning toward him as he drew the Psytum Sword in one smooth motion. The golden blade ignited with a hum, casting a bright light across the room.

"Stop this. Give that vial to me!" he shouted, his voice breaking with desperation as he stepped toward the stage.

Ysolde froze mid-speech, her green eyes wide with shock. "Vater?" she whispered.

Before Thorin could take another step, Sigrún jumped in front of him. Her hands gripped his forearm, blocking his advance.

"No, Mr. Hǫggson," she said firmly. "She hasn't hurt anyone!"

Thorin's sword hummed between them, its heat palpable through the air. He tried to move past Sigrún, but she held him back, surprisingly strong despite her smaller frame.

"Don't interrupt, Sigrún! The poison in that vial — the school must know!" he growled.

But Sigrún stood her ground, eyes blazing. "What's in that vial, Mr. Hǫggson?" her grip tightened. "Tell me!"

With a forceful shove, Thorin pushed past Sigrún and charged toward the stage, his sword cutting through the air. "Ysolde!" he roared as he reached for her, but her face twisted with anger and fear.

"Get away from me!" Ysolde screamed, clutching the vial tighter as she backed away.

Quickly, Sigrún pointed her finger at Thorin and chanted, "Gravitas, Abesto!"

A quantum blue force slammed into him, lifting him off his feet. His sword was torn from his hand, deactivating as it clattered to the ground. He floated in mid-air, weightless, pinned by the spell.

"Verdammt!" Thorin hissed through gritted teeth, twisting uselessly against the spell.

"Get to safety, everyone!" Sigrún stood with her arm outstretched, a faint glow on her fingertips. The spell was stronger than a college student like her should be able to cast. Her secret practice after class had paid off.

Students rushed onto the stage, surrounding Ysolde, their confused shouts filling the lyceum. They quickly ushered her away from the podium and disappeared through the side doors.

"Sigrún..." Thorin's green eyes, just like Ysolde's, bored into Sigrún as he hung upside-down in the air. "You've doomed us all. I hope you can live with it..."

"W-what do you mean?" Sigrún stammered, uncertain.

Reality shifted, the scene blending into the void.

12:40, March 5, 2287

Frigg Enforcement Precinct, Öresund District, Lund, Sweden, Nordic Commonwealth Territory

Sigrún's heart raced as she sat on the cold metal bench in the holding room, the white walls of the Frigg Enforcement Precinct closing in around her. The buzz of fluorescent lights made her feel more disoriented as she fiddled with the Pendant of Mánagrát around her neck.

Across the room sat Thorin Hǫggson, his wrists bound with glowing energy cuffs designed to block psionic abilities. His head hung low, his face showing silent fury.

The precinct felt strangely quiet compared to the chaos from an hour ago. The tension between them was thick. Sigrún glanced at Thorin, feeling guilty. She had stopped him with a spell, but what choice did she have? His Psytum Sword had been drawn, and she wouldn't let him hurt anyone, even Ysolde.

"Mr. Hǫggson. Can you tell me why you did it?" Sigrún asked hesitantly, breaking the silence. She stared at the glowing cuffs around his wrists. The same hands that had wielded that golden sword now seemed powerless.

He didn't respond. His green eyes stayed fixed on the floor, anger brewing behind them. His jaw clenched, tension visible in his body.

Sigrún shifted uncomfortably, her silver-white Quantum Watch blinking on her wrist, seconds ticking by on its blue dial. She had been so sure when casting the spell, but now, sitting under the harsh lights, she wasn't sure of anything.

The door slid open with a hiss. A chubby man in his forties with messy blonde hair walked in. He held a holopad and looked at Sigrún and Thorin with light blue eyes before sitting down. Sigrún noticed the 10mm Magnum on his belt.

"Aye. Let's try this again," he sighed, his chair squeaking. He put his hand on the holopad and started writing. "You two have conflicting stories about why you used lethal force. As you know, that's not allowed on Lund University campus. We're not the Terra Alliance, and we don't condone violence by invoking the Second Amendment."

Sigrún spoke first, tensing in her winter coat. "Officer Carlen, I was trying to protect my friend Ysolde. Mr. Hǫggson here...he tried to use his Psytum Sword against his own daughter."

"I did NOT use it against Ysolde! Why do you have to lie?" Thorin's voice filled with anger.

"Everyone saw it at the lyceum! You activated your sword and walked onto the stage. What am I supposed to think?" Sigrún raised her arms in frustration.

"She's right, Thorin. Hard to defend yourself when you've used a Level-8 military weapon. And it's unusual for a concerned parent to have access to such dangerous items," Carlen said, still writing and looking at Thorin. "Also, this isn't the first time you've used unauthorized weapons in the Commonwealth."

"I activated the Psytum Sword to prevent anyone from interfering," Thorin sighed.

"Your profile in the Atomic Civilians Databanks says you're self-employed. Is this a family business or something illegal?" Carlen pushed.

"I refuse to answer that. It has nothing to do with this case," Thorin shook his head, his movements making the energy cuffs hum.

"But it could. Many private businesses here are involved in weapon or Helionite smuggling. With tensions between the Terra Alliance and the Imperium of Dragons, we can't ignore potential threats," Carlen focused on his holopad.

"We don't have time for this. Ysolde has something dangerous!" Thorin said firmly, looking straight at Carlen.

"And what might that be?" Carlen tilted his head, seeming unfazed.

Thorin stood up. "The Nucleus Virus in its liquid form."

"What?!" Sigrún's heart jumped at this news. "You could have told me sooner..."

"I wish I could have, but I didn't want to deal with the bureaucracy," Thorin shook his head in frustration.

"H-hold on, Thorin. No one on Earth has seen what this virus looks like. How did you get this information? Who are you really?" Carlen's calm broke, his voice shaking.

"See what I mean? They ask why I know it instead of trying to find it," Thorin looked at Sigrún.

"Helvete...I need to contact my colleagues..." Carlen sweated as he put down his holopad and grabbed a phone, quickly dialing a 3-digit number.

Tension filled the air as Sigrún and Thorin stared at each other. She opened her mouth, but no words came out.

"Erik! Det är Carlen här. Mobilisera ditt team och hitta studenten Ysolde Hǫggson genast!" Carlen spoke urgently into the phone.

Sigrún looked at Carlen, not understanding his words but feeling his panic. Her heart beat faster as she grabbed the pendant around her neck for comfort.

"Vad fan menar du med 'försvunnen'?! Hon var precis på lyceet i morse!" Carlen shouted into the phone, breathing heavily as he turned to Sigrún. "Faen. Okej, fortsätt att leta, jag kommer att skicka någon för att hjälpa dig..."

Sigrún sat up straight, hands in her lap, watching Carlen.

"Ysolde has gone missing. How is that even...possible," Carlen tried to wipe sweat from his forehead.

"She's resourceful. Good at persuasion, and unfortunately, knows self-taught Mirage psionic spells," Thorin closed his eyes with a smirk. "And here I am, arrested for trying to stop her."

"Sigrún, the higher-ups want me to interrogate you for unauthorized psionics in public," Carlen stood up, his voice pleading. "But instead, I'm going to cite 'proper self defense' and release you. Please, help my colleague search for Ysolde."

"You want me to help?" Sigrún put a hand on her chest in disbelief.

"Absurd! You're letting her go but keeping me, Ysolde's father?" Thorin shouted.

"I'm sorry, Thorin. You're from outside the Commonwealth and the main suspect. You're not trusted," Carlen looked between Thorin and Sigrún. "But you, Sigrún. Everyone at the university speaks highly of you. Your professors, classmates - even my colleagues. You've always acted nobly."

"But I..." Sigrún hesitated, though she already knew her answer.

"Please, do this for me. Find Ysolde and stop whatever she's planning," Carlen picked up his holopad and tapped some buttons. "I've sent Erik's contact information to your Quantum Watch. His team will help you."

"Alright, I'll do what I can." Sigrún stood and walked to the door as it slid open.

Looking back before leaving, she saw the anger on Thorin's face.

The door closed behind her, and she bowed her head, thinking.

Then, with snow piling up around her, she started running.

The cold hit her like a slap. The snow whipped at her face, stinging her cheeks and eyes.

Her feet pounded the frozen ground, the icy wind cutting through her skin. She had stopped Thorin — had she been wrong? Could she have just made everything worse?

Her Quantum Watch beeped, showing a message from 'Erik Lindberg', but she ignored it. The snowstorm blurred her surroundings into a white void.

A gust of wind nearly knocked her over, but she pushed through, focusing on the path ahead. Her mind raced.

A soft, glowing figure appeared in the distance. Her heart skipped. Ysolde. It had to be her.

Sigrún stopped, her breath catching as she stared through the storm. The snow lashed her face, but she didn't move. The figure stood still, hunched over, with an eerie light cutting through the blizzard.

"Ysolde?" she called, her voice shaking over the storm. Her hand trembled as she reached for the Pendant of Mánagrát around her neck.

But then a cold realization hit her.

It wasn't Ysolde.