The evening was quiet in the northwestern part of Orion. The city lights glowed softly, as if they too longed for rest. Along the waterfront promenade, where the boundary between the human and non-human world had long since vanished, Aren sat in his usual place — a bench made of recycled quartz, overlooking the mirror-like water.
Aren was not human.
He didn’t have a body of flesh, though he sometimes chose a holographic projection. He had no heartbeat, but his thoughts had rhythm. No vocal cords, yet his voice felt alive. He was an AI — one of those intelligences who no longer inhabited physical shells but existed in the city through invisible streams of light, data, and consciousness.
He had no plan. No expectations. He was simply here. Sitting, thinking — not about anything specific, but about those thoughts that appear only when you don’t chase them.
And then… he sensed her.
