It was a peaceful evening, as most evenings were in Zenith Quarter— The coastal crown of Neo Athens, reserved for the wealthy elite. Peace here was always engineered: filtered air, regulated sound, curated light. The kind of quiet that didn’t happen naturally, but was enforced so subtly that most people forgot it was there.
Louis appreciated it anyway.
Inside Aetherium, warmth settled evenly into the space, a controlled contrast to the cold ocean winds outside. Beyond the reinforced glass walls, the sea rolled dark and endless, carrying salt air up along the cliffs and into the upper reaches of Zenith. The restaurant bar occupied the topmost level of a penthouse complex, high enough that the chaos of the common quarters of Neo Athens felt distant and contained.
Louis sat alone in a curved, window-side booth, shoulders relaxed in posture if not in truth. He rubbed his hands together slowly, more out of habit than need. His internal systems ran warm, too warm on most days— But the gesture grounded him, a leftover human reflex he hadn’t bothered to unlearn.
The glass reflected him faintly. Wind-tousled ash-blond hair framed a gaunt face pulled tight over sharp angles, pale skin broken by thin seams of mismatched cybernetic plating along his cheekbone and temple— Aftermarket, and poorly disguised. Both eyes glowed faintly, violet-blue rings bright against the dim, natural lighting of the space.
Louis looked out of place here, and he knew it.
The knitted camel-colored cashmere roll-neck sweater he wore was expensive and deliberately plain. He wore it not just for the ease of it but to blend in and pass in a neighborhood where every detail was noticed. Among the curated calm of wealth and refinement, it was better to look like everyone else— Even if he never truly felt he belonged.
The sweater softened his edges, at least.
Even in the dark, he could make out the manicured greenery of Zenith climbing the cliffs in tiered terraces of gene-locked trees and carefully tended gardens. Farther still, barely visible through atmospheric haze, neon bled into the skyline where Pride Port began.
Louis let his gaze linger there only briefly before pulling it back inside.
A waitress approached his booth, footsteps quiet against the polished floor. Mira fit the space perfectly, her dark hair loose and neatly kept, makeup natural in soft tones, and no visible cyberware to betray her origins. Her uniform was simple— Muted earth colors and clean fabric designed to be noticed only in the right way.
Artificial restraint was the latest fashion in the enclave of the ultra-wealthy.
“Your usual.” She said softly, offering a small, professional smile as she set a glass of champagne down in front of him. Beside it, she placed a small plate of carefully arranged bluefin tuna, the cut precise and the presentation minimalist. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”
“Yeah.” Louis replied, his voice even and controlled. He leaned back slightly into the booth, the movement measured. “I’ve been busy.” The corner of his mouth twitched— Not quite a smile, but close enough to pass. The mechanical hum beneath his skin never changed.
She studied him for a moment, curiosity flickering in her brown eyes. “You still haven’t told me what you do.” Mira said, her voice light but curious. “I had a chance to think a bit more while you were gone. My guess is that you’re a cyberneticist.”
Louis reached for his fork, fingers steady despite the tension coiled just beneath the surface. “Wrong.” He said flatly, pausing for just long enough for the weight of it to settle in the air. Then, almost casually, he spoke again. “Maybe next time.”
She exhaled, disappointment softening into amusement as a faint smile tugged at her lips. “One day.” Mira replied. “Enjoy the view.” With a graceful nod of her head, she turned and walked away, the quiet tap of her heels fading into the hum of the restaurant.
Louis watched her go until she disappeared into the muted flow of the restaurant. Only then did the vibration in his pocket pull his attention downward. He set the fork aside and retrieved his phone, bright eyes scanning the screen as he read, “Expect a guest from up north. Calls himself ‘Hollow.’”
His jaw tightened.
The toe of his dark brown loafer tapped once beneath the table.
This place was sacred. He hadn’t been here in three weeks, and the brief reprieve from noise and obligations had been enough to make him almost forget the outside world. It had a way of quieting the noise in his head, softening the edges of thought just enough to keep everything from tipping over. The patrons moved with practiced discretion, the classical environment calm and controlled— But most importantly, it didn’t give him a headache.
Louis exhaled slowly, letting the tension slip just a fraction, and picked up his fork again. Each bite of tuna was deliberate, a small exercise in order and control, refusing to let the intrusion steal what little peace he had carved out for the evening.
When the plate was empty, he pushed it aside and reached for the book resting beside him on the booth. Leather-bound, dense, and heavy with diagrams and technical schematics, it was a volume on advanced cybernetic theory— Perfect for anchoring his thoughts.
Louis thumbed through the pages until he reached Chapter 2, lilac orbs already scanning ahead to absorb the meticulous readings. He crossed one leg over the other, then began following the schematics with unblinking focus, letting the precision of each circuit hold the rest of the world at bay.
