CTS TIME RE250.09.04 — 02:15 AM
Sector 13, Nikhil's Apartment — Mechatopia
The chamber lights dimmed automatically, neon veins running along the walls like the pulse of the city itself. Beyond the balcony window, Mechatopia never slept—holo-billboards flickered, starships streaked across the dark horizon, and Synthwave Distant Echoes rippled faintly in the background, giving the night a strange, dreamlike pulse.
Luna was still dizzy from the "couple training." Her cheeks were burning, her reactor glowing faint lilac against her chest plate. She kept her arms crossed tightly, like that would contain the storm in her body.
Nikhil wasn't done though. Oh no.
He rubbed his hands together mischievously, leaning back against the console. "Arre wah, practice toh ho gaya. But listen—your height difference? Kya mast comedy scene hai! Hero bada, heroine chhoti. You try forehead touch? You'll look like toddler begging candy!"
("Oh wow, so you've already practiced, huh? But listen—your height difference? What a perfect comedy scene! The hero's tall, the heroine's tiny. Try a forehead touch, and you'll look like a toddler begging for candy!")
Luna squeaked, hiding half her face in her hair. "T-that's… not funny!"
Valerian, deadpan "It is irrelevant."
Nikhil ignored him completely. He jumped up, pacing around them like a director setting up a romantic drama. "Okay, solution! Forehead touching not possible. So—Plan B." He spread his arms theatrically. "Hero pulls heroine close. Heroine places both hands on his chest. Hugging scene. Simple, elegant, romantic."
Luna nearly melted into the floor. "W-what—?!"
Before she could react, Valerian's storm-blue hand reached out, gripping her lightly by the wrist. He tugged her just slightly forward. Their bodies were inches apart, her hands awkwardly pressed against the firm plating over his chest.
Her face turned into a furnace. Too close. Too close. He smells like metal and ozone and—g-god, I'm going to faint.
Valerian's voice was flat, but with an edge of annoyance. "How long must this… exercise continue?"
Nikhil burst out laughing. "Continue until she stops glowing like Diwali decoration!"
Valerian's eyes flicked down at Luna's reactor, which was pulsing an embarrassing bright pink with every beat of her heart. "I don't know how good you are at faking," he said coldly. "But you're terrible at hiding. Your blushing, your glowing eyes, your reactor—everything is too Human not Android."
Luna let out a shaky, painful laugh, forcing her lips into something like a smile. "Y-yeah… I'm just bad at faking." But inside, her chest screamed. It's not fake. None of this is fake. If only you knew…
"Bas, practice over!" Nikhil declared finally, slapping the console with triumph. "Hero-heroine passes the test. Wah wah, full marks!"
But he wasn't finished. He leaned against the wall, switching fully into Hindi now, his grin wide. "Thomas, yaar… thanks for this mission. Mujhe mazaa aa raha hai! Best entertainment!"
("Thomas, my friend… thanks for this mission. I'm actually enjoying it! Best entertainment I've had in ages!")
Valerian's jaw twitched. Luna's soul left her body.
Nikhil clapped again and barked an order "Okay! Now pull out your clothes. Stay only in biomechanical layering. Couples ke liye natural hona chahiye."
Luna hesitated, trembling. But Valerian, expression unbothered, tapped his wrist and let the civilian coat vanish into the wall compartment. His storm-blue layering gleamed under the dim neon. Luna reluctantly followed, her lilac skin-like plating glowing softly, like bare light wrapped around her.
Her arms instantly shot up to cover herself—even though technically, she wasn't naked at all. But the thinness of the suit, the illusion of skin… It feels like I am.
Nikhil grinned wider, satisfied. "Perfect. Now—sleep time. Aur suno, in one bed. Couples like couples."
("Alright! Now strip down to your biomechanical layerings. For a couple, things need to look… natural.")
Luna froze, heart stopping. "O-one… bed?"
Valerian gave a single nod, cold and professional. "Understood."
UNDERSTOOD?! she screamed internally. He just says 'understood' like it's a tactical formation—while I'm about to combust into plasma!
They walked toward the bedroom. Luna's footsteps felt heavier with every step. She glanced at the bed—it wasn't huge, just wide enough for two. The sheets gleamed with nanoweave fibers, adjusting their temperature automatically to the occupants. Futuristic comfort—yet it felt like a trap.
They lay down—Valerian on one side, perfectly straight, staring at the wall, already in "sleep mode" posture. Luna on the other side, curled into herself, blushing so hard her entire reactor was glowing pink under the sheets.
From the other room, Nikhil's voice rang out in Hindi, smug as ever. "In human terms, you're wearing suit. In machine terms… naked in bed at night together!"
"STOP SAYING THAT!" Luna squealed, muffled into her pillow, her entire body trembling.
Valerian's lips twitched faintly. Just faintly. He didn't turn around.
This is impossible, Luna thought, burying her burning face deeper into the pillow. I wanted this so badly… to be close to him. But not like this. Not fake. Not with me lying while my heart screams the truth.
And still—despite her shame, despite her fear—her body curled just slightly toward his warmth, drawn by gravity she couldn't resist.
The hum of the city bled softly into the walls of the apartment. Outside, Distant Echoes rippled again through the neon avenues, a haunting synthwave track that wrapped the sleepless city in bittersweet loneliness. Starships traced lines of light across the skyline.
On the bed, Luna tossed, reactor glowing faint lilac under the sheets. The warmth from Valerian at her side was unbearable—not because he was touching her, but because he wasn't. The space between them was a knife. His stormy eyes had closed, his breathing steady, his composure perfect.
She couldn't do it. She couldn't lie beside him like this, pretending her heart wasn't screaming.
Quietly, she slipped off the bed, bare feet whispering against the nanoweave floor. The automatic lights followed her into the other room where her folded clothes rested neatly on the table. Nikhil was there too, hunched over a console, fingers flying across a holographic keyboard. Complex streams of code danced in midair, equations that Luna couldn't even begin to decipher.
He didn't look up. "Tu uth gayi?" His voice was calm, sly. "I don't think you're faking emotions. Machine ko bhi tune jhoot bol diya. Wah… tum S rank log toh mind ke master hote ho. But still… yeh sach hai. You lie too well—even to yourself."
("You're awake?" His tone shifted—calm, sly. "I don't think you're faking those emotions. You even fooled the machine. Impressive… you S-Ranks really are masters of the mind. But still—truth is truth. You lie too well… even to yourself.")
Luna froze, her heart pounding. His words cut deeper than he probably intended. She wanted to shout, to deny it, but… what could she say? Her hands trembled as she picked up her folded clothes.
Inside, her heart whispered "It's not fake. It was never fake. This pink glow… it's the truest thing I've ever known".
She turned away quickly, clutching the clothes to her chest like a shield. "I—I should sleep," she said softly, her English weak and wavering.
Nikhil smirked, eyes still on his code. "Haan haan. Go, S rank warrior. Armor up before you melt down."
Her face burned. She hurried back to the bedroom.
Inside, the glow from the city poured through the window blinds, casting neon stripes across the bed where Valerian still lay, unmoved, his expression calm, almost statuesque. The storm-blue lines of his biomechanical layering caught the faint light, making him look less like a man and more like a war-forged sentinel.
Luna swallowed hard and began dressing quickly, desperate for something—anything—that could cage her spiraling emotions.
First came the auto-adjust bra. The nanoweave fibers expanded, then constricted, wrapping perfectly against her chest with a faint hum as if the fabric knew her. Her face flamed as she tugged her top over it, the life reactor beneath still glowing through like a heartbeat of light.
Then the underwear—thin, seamless, hugging perfectly to her hips as if tailored by invisible hands. The sensation made her shiver. It knows too much. Everything auto-adjusts… everything measures. What if Valerian… no, don't think that.
Next the long pants, sliding smoothly over her lilac-layered legs, sealing with a quiet click at her waist. The clothes looked ordinary—simple human civilian wear—but the fibers shimmered faintly with their adaptive weave, coded to survive Mechatopia's atmosphere.
When she was finally covered, she pressed her hand against her reactor through the fabric. Still glowing. Still betraying her. No matter what she wore, it pulsed her truth into the world.
She crawled back into the bed, curling on her side, back toward Valerian.
Valerian had not moved. His voice, when it finally came, was cold and measured, though quieter than usual. "You put on clothes over the suit. Why?"
Luna jumped slightly, then laughed nervously into her pillow. "Because… I'll melt otherwise."
He didn't answer, only turned his face slightly toward the wall again, as though letting her keep her dignity. But his words lingered in the room like static:
"You are terrible at lying."
Her heart clenched painfully. Then why can't I just tell you the truth?
Outside, Distant Echoes swelled through the neon jungle, the music wrapping the city in its melancholic embrace.
Luna finally drifted to sleep, clothes clinging tightly, reactor still glowing faint pink beneath. Valerian remained awake longer, eyes open, storm-blue irises faintly lit. His thoughts unreadable, but his gaze flicked once toward her before closing again.