49. NewNormal
NewNormal
Playlist: My Salvation - Econoline Crush
Lyra
For once, I don’t go back into the grid.
I can’t believe I’m saying this, but it’s weird.
Instead, I walk beside Kael through the double doors of his penthouse, the bright glow of the city sprawling below us. Stories down, the streets are alive with corporate citizens unaware that their lives are so small and insignificant in this vast digital world.
A castle for a king.
Every night before this has ended with me pulled back into the system, slipping into DreamNet, recharging at the cottage. Tonight, I’ll stay here, maybe even enter an actual sleep mode.
The air smells like luxury, with an undercurrent that’s just him and the leftover scent of incense left burning by his training mat. It feels wrong and right at the same time, like putting on clothes that don’t fit but you don’t want to take them off.
Kael shrugs out of his jacket, tossing it on the back of a chair that probably costs more than my VikkCorp salary.
He’s exhausted. I can see it in the way his shoulders sag, but also in the softness of his eyes when they catch mine.
“You don’t have to stand there like I’m about to interrogate you,” he says. “Sit. Pretend you’re normal.”
Normal.
The word almost makes me laugh. Normal isn’t a void, a lab, or a jealous AI wife that’s trying to delete you. But I sink into the luxurious couch anyway, my body grateful for the softness for a change.
For a moment, it feels like a home. Not his, not mine, a real home.
I watch him move through the room. He sets two glasses on a bar table and fills them from a bottle of amber liquid that looks older than either of us. Whiskey. He hands me one. “To survival. Kanpai!” he says simply.
I love it when he speaks his native tongue. I take it, and for once I don’t argue. The drink burns down my throat, warm, and grounding. Kael said I could drink; I just wouldn’t feel any effects in my holo-form. Hell yes!
“You live like a minimalist,” I mutter, glancing at the sleek, bare walls. No color, no softness. Just various shades of gray and black.
His mouth curves, almost resembling a smile. He’s too tired to manage facial expressions as he sits beside me. “That’s why you’re here, Taiyō. To add some light to the dark.”
I smile back. The silence that follows is almost comfortable.
But then I feel it, the ache in my chest, the reminder of what’s missing. Eli. My magic thrums faintly under my skin, still muted but alive, and I wonder how long before I’m nothing but code. “Are you sure he’s okay?” I ask.
Kael leans forward, elbows on his knees, studying me like an error in his logs. “You saw for yourself on the cam, he looks like he’s sleeping most of the time. When he’s not, LINK has him in DreamNet. He’s probably sitting on your beach right now.”
I toss back the rest of the amber liquid and wince. I give Kael a look of despair.
“Don’t look at me like I can’t fix this,” he says. “I will. We’ll get him. You’ll stay human. You’ll feel. I’ll make damn sure of it. All of it.” He tosses his glass back, ice clinking against the side.
And stars help me, I almost believe him.
The whiskey warms me, but Kael’s right, that’s about it. It isn’t going to be enough to calm my fragile nerves like it was when I was alive. My fingers itch, restless. I tap my foot incessantly. The cold seeps in again despite being away from LINK and the grid.
“I have something for you.” Kael walks over to his desk and picks up a small bag with an understated black ribbon tied to the top. “I saw this and thought of you.” He hands me the bag.
I reach for it, blushing at the fact that as busy and important as he is, he thought of me outside of the lab. I remind myself again I don’t deserve him.
His eyes follow my every move as I remove the tissue to find a black leather sketchbook and drawing pencils. “Kael, you shouldn’t have.”
I move it to my lap and touch the engraving on the cover; it’s the celestial sun tattoo that runs down my back, my stamp from the effects of StarFell.
“I love it. Thank you.” I pat the sofa for him to come over and join me again.
He sits, and I hug him with both arms, our faces touching, cheeks brushing ever so slightly.
As I squeeze, a part of me doesn’t want to ever let go.
I curl my legs beneath me, balance the book against my knees, and let the pencil move.
Outside the window, the city glares neon across steel structures.
It should feel alive, but I know better.
The light is shining for corporate greed, not for the public’s admiration.
I decide to open the sketchbook and draw to ease the tension that’s building in my limbs.
I draw what I see: the twisted skyline, against a backdrop of mist and haze.
When I pause to smudge a shadow, I feel Kael’s heavy stare. He’s sitting close, relaxed for once, watching me. He hasn’t moved in minutes. When I look up at him, he just leans back on the sofa, the empty glass on his thigh. The light from the windows slices fractals across his jaw.
“You look happy when you’re drawing.” Is that contentment on Kael Ryudon’s face?
I keep my eyes on the page. “Maybe I am.”
The silence stretches, but it’s not empty. He doesn’t press, doesn’t move closer, but I feel him anyway. His presence is always like pressure, impossible to escape, pulling me in even when I want to drift away.
For just a moment, I let myself believe this is what normal could look like. Sitting in a posh penthouse, sketching, while a man I shouldn’t trust watches me like I’m the only thing alive and brings me alcohol. I laugh lightly to myself.
Kael’s words hang in the air. You look happy when you’re drawing.
I should let it go. I have nothing to be happy about right now.
Maybe I’m just more comfortable at this moment.
You know, no evil robot trying to kill me.
But his eyes won’t let me rest. They aren’t the usual black tonight; they’re flecked with gold and orange, almost soft.
It terrifies me that he’s changing around me.
“Why are you staring at me?” I whisper, managing a grin.
He doesn’t hesitate to answer. “Because you are...” His voice is rough with conviction. “So beautiful. I can’t help it.”
Heat curls in my chest as the blood rushes to my cheeks. I want to believe him. But right now I’m incapable of feeling much of anything.
He shifts closer, slow and deliberate. His hand doesn’t touch me, but it rests on the couch beside mine, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from his skin.
“Every line you draw is proof you’re still human.
That you still feel.” His gaze flicks to the sketchbook, then back to me.
“If you can hold on to that for a little longer, I can get you out.”
The words sting because hope has always been the cruelest lie. I tense up. “Out? How, Kael? You can’t just unplug me. You said it yourself. If I’m cut from the system, I’ll unravel. I’ll cease to exist. Real death, not pretend.”
“Not if I write the body to catch you.” His stare becomes intense, as if speaking the thought makes it real.
I can see the excitement rising in him. “A synthetic vessel. Neural pathways mapped, memory linked and loaded, sensations coded. It won’t be real flesh, but it will feel just like your own skin, but better.
I’ve had a breakthrough with my cybernetics research.
I can build you a body that will hold your soul. ”
The room tips. I grip the sketchbook harder, graphite smearing under my fingers. “That’s insane.”
He leans closer, and his voice lowers to a murmur. “So was keeping you alive in the system. So was talking to your image through a screen. So is this.” He takes my hand in his. “I’ve already broken half my rules for you, Taiyō. Why stop now?”
Taiyō. Little Taiyō. His little sun. The nickname that once infuriated me but now makes butterflies flutter low in my chest. I wanted to hate it, but part of me ached at how right it felt. Sun. The complete opposite of his darkness. Destined to be the yin and yang, perhaps.
I force myself to meet his eyes again. They swirl infinitely like lost stars. “And what if you fail? Can it be reversed?”
“I won’t,” he says, without flinching. He simply doesn’t fathom another outcome.
The words hollow me out, filling me with doubt. The couch between us feels too small, but distance would feel worse. I can’t breathe around the knot in my stomach, can’t tell if it’s fear or excitement.
I drop my gaze to my sketch. My hand trembles. The ugly truth spills from my lips. “I’m scared, Kael. I don’t want to be trapped here, turned into a human calculator, but I also don’t want to die,” I whisper, trying to force a chuckle.
His smile is faint but real. “See? Fear is good. That means you’re still human.”
I change the subject quickly to avoid talking about it further. Another time. “So, the decor.” I smile coyly. “It’s very...dark. No clutter, no softness?” I glance over at the wall of weapons. “Very bachelor-y.”
Kael lets out a nervous laugh. “Yeah, well it’s me. Minimalist, modern, my job is complicated. I don’t really want my home to be.” He’s still lounging next to me, legs spread, twirling the ice in his glass. My eyes can’t help but wander over his body.
I go back to drawing and am hit with the hard realization that the graphite smudges feel different; they’re dull on the tips of my fingers. Kael notices immediately that my mood has changed. He doesn’t panic, but he’s fascinated.
He sits up and reaches for me. “Tell me your thoughts.” He brushes my cheek with his knuckles. “I’m sorry but I can’t resist touching you.”
My sigh is heavy. “Sensations mostly. Some things feel...less?” I can’t quite communicate the feeling.
I clutch my chest. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t even feel right anymore.
I feel...deadened. Like my magic is slipping, like my feelings are being pulled from me.
My memories fading. My soul disappearing. ”
His expression hardens. He moves even closer to me, his arm resting behind me on the back of the sofa now. “Then I’ll make sure you feel everything, every day. My hands, my mouth, my body. Whatever it takes to keep you here with me.”
I tilt my head on his arm. He strokes my hair, brushing it through his fingers. There was a time that his touch would have infuriated me, but that feeling is disappearing, just like my humanity.
“I’m sure it’s temporary. Once I get you connected to the system again, you should feel better.”
I choose to ignore his reminder that I have to go back in to get out. That logic makes no sense to me, even if I’m half-computer at this point.
The words he just said echo in my mind: build a body to catch you. He’s talking about the cybernetics project he’s been working on. The pile of shiny white robots that hang on hooks in the farthest corner of the lab. I don’t want to be plastic.
I place the sketchbook down on his coffee table.
“Wait,” I whisper, staring at him. “Even if you build something like that, how would I even move into it? I’m not code you can just copy and paste.
I’m...” I falter, hating how fragile I sound.
“I’m not really sure what I am right now. ” My brows wrinkle.
Kael leans forward. “That’s where Jett comes in.”
I blink. “Jett?”
“He’s not just a revolutionary. His magic, SoulReaving, it’s not just taking. He can thread the soul back into a vessel. Anchor it where it belongs.” Kael’s voice is careful, steady, explaining it to me like I’m a child.
“When the time comes, I can build the body, but only Jett can make sure you, the you that matters, lands inside it.”
My chest tightens. “So, my life depends on him?”
Kael’s jaw ticks. “Your life depends on me. Jett is just the tool to make sure my plan works.” His confidence—or is it arrogance? Either could end me.
I shake my head, unsettled. “You talk like you own me. Like I’m yours to keep alive.”
His lips curve, dark amusement curling at the edges. “Aren’t you?”
I bite down hard on my lip. “What if he decides not to help me? What if Jett thinks I’m a threat? He already hates how human LINK is becoming. How am I any different?”
Kael wraps the lotus blossom around the back of my neck, bringing me into him, collapsing the space between us.
His shadow falls over me, drowning out any doubts.
“Jett won’t refuse. Because he knows what you are to me.
” His fingers graze my chin, tilting my face up.
“And because he owes me more than you can imagine. Besides, he wants your brother and all that power on the side of the rebellion.”
I swallow hard, the weight of his stare pinning me. “So, my exit...” I don’t even know what to call it. “You’ve already decided how it’s going to happen?”
“Yes.” His answer is unflinching and absolute. “You’ll have a body, Lyra. And I’ll make damn sure you feel alive in it.”
I stare at Kael, his words still scraping at my mind. “What do you mean, ‘Jett owes me?’ Like, what does he actually do?” I press, more insistent now.
Kael doesn’t hesitate. “Jett...” He blows out a puff of air as if the question is complex. “His gift is different. He can retrieve and revive the soul.”
The way he says it makes my skin crawl. “Retrieve? That sounds like stealing.”
“Not stealing,” Kael adds. “Think of it like...threading, like how you weave through my system. Pulling the essence of someone into his hands, holding it steady, and placing it where it belongs. Without him, you’d fracture if I tried to transfer you.
Code can’t hold a soul. Hardware can’t hold a soul.
But Jett...” He pauses, eyes filled with certainty. “Jett can.”
I rub my arms, unsettled. “And it doesn’t hurt? When he does it I mean?”
“Depends who you ask. Those he’s saved call it rebirth. Those he’s destroyed”—he shrugs—“never speak again to complain.”
A chill rakes down my spine. “Destroyed?”
“He can take as easily as he gives. Reaving is balanced. Extraction and restoration. He’s very careful about who he restores.” Kael leans in, his voice a whisper against my ear. “And I’ve already decided you’ll be one of them.”
I shiver, torn between anger at his arrogance and the warmth his promise sparks in me.
“But doesn’t that make him a god?” I whisper, thinking of the way Jett looked at me in the lab, his eyes heavy with judgment. “He decides who gets to live, and who doesn’t. What if he thinks I don’t deserve a body?”
Kael’s expression tightens. “Then he and I will have a huge problem.”