Seguimos — agora mergulhando na origem da ferida.
Kiara opened the door.
"Liana? It's me. Kiara."
Sunbeams slipped through cracks in the wall, carrying suspended dust, illuminating fragments of a forgotten time.
An old oil lamp flickered in the dimness, casting long shadows across wooden furniture—too clean for a place so abandoned.
The house smelled of mold.
An elderly woman sat in a worn chair.
A green shawl wrapped around her shoulders.
Her gaze lost in the harbor beyond the window.
Who was she?
My eyes shifted to a young woman.
Dressed as a nurse.
No.
An android.
A Rhea model.
Nanosystems programmed with medical knowledge.
"Oh, hello.
I just prepared Alicia's bath."
She glanced toward the elderly woman.
A strained smile.
"But she's in a difficult phase."
Kiara nodded.
She already knew.
"This is Akiko."
I extended my hand.
"Nice to meet you."
"She's the doctor?"
I frowned at Kiara.
She looked away.
"I am."
"Good.
I'll forward Alicia's file."
Liana turned to Takashi.
"Is Takashi your assistant?
Should I send it to him?"
I nodded, still confused.
The atmosphere felt… prepared.
As if my arrival had been anticipated.
Liana smiled.
Her eyes turned opaque for a few seconds.
Takashi's response followed:
"Alicia Relaisse.
Seventy-one cycles.
Born in France, Irrasi of Alonluna, 2809.
Diagnosis:
Stage three, approaching four, Alzheimer's.
Eighty-two percent cognitive behavior loss."
"What?
How is that possible?!"
The horror escaped my breath.
"There's a cure for Alzheimer's!
What happened?!"
Kiara stepped in front of me.
"Calm down.
Come. I want to show you something."
I swallowed under her steady gaze.
Reluctantly, I followed.
Dust-covered furniture.
Frozen in distant time.
Kiara opened the wardrobe.
Inside—small clothes with childish prints.
She took a wooden box and placed it on the bed.
Gestured for me to sit.
"This box is important to Maia.
She kept these things from childhood.
She asked me to show you."
She pushed it toward me.
"Please."
I picked it up carefully.
The wood was well preserved.
The latch simple.
Secrets ready to unfold.
Dust rose as I opened it.
I inhaled sharply.
Inside—
A photograph.
My heart skipped.
No thought was needed.
I already felt it.
Two children.
A girl with white hair.
Beside her, a boy with bicolored hair.
Half dark brown. Half white.
Eyebrows and lashes blended.
Perfect duality.
Identical features.
The same blood. Two destinies.
Maia's eyes mirrored in him.
But she never spoke of him.
Why?
Behind them, a woman embraced both.
Alicia. Younger.
Kiara ran a hand through her dark hair.
"This is Maia's older brother. Saymon.
At seven cycles, mercenaries took him to the Nobody's Lands.
One solar cycle later, they took Maia."
She pointed to a doll in the box.
"This one."
I held it.
The worn paint revealed a replica of Maia.
"Saymon gave it to her."
"Why did they take them?"
The thought was unbearable.
"Here, childhood doesn't exist.
Children are raised to be sold.
Or taken.
Some families accept payment.
Others try to resist.
All lose.
Some are born there.
They only know that life."
Kiara shrugged.
How could she speak so coldly?
"What do you mean?"
I studied the child's face in the photograph.
So this was her.
The sharp features already present.
White hair.
Honey-colored eyes.
Familiar. Yet distant.
I placed everything back in the box.
"The details are unclear.
I was connected to Maia when she joined the mercenaries.
There is someone who could tell you more."
She glanced toward the door.
"You saw. She can't."
Silence filled the room.
Kiara seemed to hold back something else.
Rain began to fall outside.
"About Alicia…
I think she chose to forget.
Maybe it was the only real choice she had.
The disease was relief."
I frowned.
"That disease is devastating."
Kiara nodded.
There was something in her expression.
Something close to empathy.
"You can stay a while.
I have things to handle."
She stood.
One last look.
Then she left.
I opened drawers.
Searched through old clothes.
Enough had been revealed.
I could only imagine the pain of watching her brother taken.
The horror of her own removal to Nobody's Lands.
Seven cycles old.
My chest tightened.
I remembered her.
The weight in her amber eyes.
The unspoken absence.
What remained silent.
What she carried across cycles.
An unheard promise—
one I did not know if she ever fulfilled.