My name is Lux.

  And I’m the guy falling off a building with a dead girl in his arms…

  When Erina gave me that name, she wanted me to be her light. But she ended up being mine.

  Like some kind of tragic destiny, scripted by a cruel and ironic deity, we both ended up far from any light—falling into deep, endless darkness.

  But at the very end, in those st moments, while I was taking my final breath mid-freefall, I couldn’t help but think about how it all started…

  The beginning of our end.

  It was just over three weeks ago.

  And like most tragic stories, it started in a bar—with a bad pn and a beautiful woman. Two, actually.

  We live in a massive city called Cybria, one of the few that survived the Great Catastrophe, decades ago.

  It used to be somewhere in Eastern Europe—but nobody calls this part of the world that anymore.

  The idea of continents and countries disappeared after our ancestors used them as excuses to murder each other in horrible ways.

  Feels like it was over a hundred years ago, but in truth, it was just eighty.At the peak of the Third Great War, the old nations unched what ter came to be known as the Simultaneous Nuclear Strike.

  The name says it all—they bombed each other with nukes, and the world shook beneath the chaos.

  Rivers dried up, forests burned to ash, entire cities crumbled and turned into lifeless deserts—colossal graveyards.

  Billions died—nearly half of the world’s popution. And when the fire finally stopped falling from the sky, humanity—what was left of it—was in ruins.

  Since it was the greedy, self-absorbed politicians that led the world to colpse, the people hunted them down and killed them in retaliation.

  In the chaos of that apocalypse, the old order ended. But a new order rose quickly to fill the vacuum.

  A lot of the people who were powerful before the Great Catastrophe kept their power. That was especially true for the families that ran the giant multinational corporations.

  Their money might’ve meant less—but their influence and control stayed strong. And with that influence, they rebuilt the world from its ashes.

  A world now ruled by massive organizations and powerful bloodlines.

  Cybria—my home—is ruled by the Casa Virello (House Virello). But honestly, I had never even thought about them before that day.

  Thinking about the ultra-rich and powerful had nothing to do with me or Erina.We were just two orphans from Rustside—one of the poorest neighborhoods in one of Cybria’s poorest districts.

  We were rats surviving in the trash. Street ghosts in a giant junkyard, miles away from the manicured sidewalks of the Upper City—miles away from any life even remotely decent.

  But not on that day…

  That day, we felt like kings. Heroes in shining armor sprinting through the streets of Rustside, soaking up the cheers of the people.

  And we deserved that glory—because we had just taken down a group of mercs who’d been brutalizing our people.

  We—a trio of rookie punks, still young and reckless—had finally earned our right to sit at the grown-ups' table.

  And we went straight there: The Rusted Fangs—Rustside’s central pce.

  The Rusted Fangs is the main bar of the neighborhood. No—it can't be described as just a bar.

  It’s the beating heart of Rustside.

  It’s basically this huge four-story building, wide and rugged, made of concrete and old wood in a vintage style that cshes hard with the neon lights of the modern city.

  They say it used to be a hotel, back in the day.

  But seriously—who the hell would spend their vacation in Rustside? Our home’s a rotting ndfill where the city dumps its trash—not exactly a tourist hotspot.

  That’s why the Rusted Fangs had to evolve, to adapt. The owner, a kind old man named Barlow, gave up on the idea of charging people for rooms. Instead, he opened the doors to those who needed shelter the most.

  There’s something magical about people who’ve hit rock bottom— Even when they have nothing left, they still help each other. They share crumbs.

  That’s how the Rusted Fangs earned the love of the people, and became the most important pce in the neighborhood.

  We still have to pay for drinks at the bar, sure—but if you’re broke and starving, you’ll always find free warm food and drink at Old Barl’s house.

  But that day—we weren’t there to share soup with the old man.

  We headed straight for the main hall—a spot only VIPs can enter.

  And guess what? They opened the door for us—and rolled out the red carpet.

  That moment was one of the best feelings I’ve ever experienced.

  Walking into the crowded Rusted Fangs hall and grabbing everyone's attention—All those eyes filled with admiration and respect.

  Ren was the first to step in—the third member of our group, the Aye-Ayes.

  Yeah, the name sounds weird, but it was Erina’s choice. And neither I nor Ren were about to question her.

  “Ren! Ren!! Ren!!!” People raised their gsses and bottles, shouting his name in reverence.

  Ren strutted in like a peacock—arms spread wide, grin even wider.

  He’s tall—amost 1,9m tall—lean, lightly muscur, with jet-bck hair and eyes.Good-looking, good-hearted guy.

  Okay—maybe I see him in a better light than most since he’s my best friend.But still, the guy’s got charisma. He’s always bragging about the girls he goes out with.

  “Hey guys!!” Ren waved at the crowd, bowing like some medieval lord.“I’m just your humble servant!”

  He moved through the crowd, touching every raised hand— a humble celeb giving his fans a bit of love.

  But the moment he stepped aside and revealed her— The poor guy instantly lost all the attention.

  Every eye turned to her. And that was admiration in its purest form. Real respect—for a single young dy.

  Erina.

  I always found she the most beautiful woman in the world.

  She stood at 1,68m tall, delicate and seemingly fragile, her skin pale and glowing despite the bandages and metallic impnts.

  There were some facial mods too—small metal ptes that somehow only enhanced her beauty. Her slightly upturned nose was charming, and her soft, pink lips even more so.

  Her hair was a vivid electric purple, tied into two small side buns with a middle-parted fringe. A modern, edgy style that perfectly reflected her skills.

  But the most stunning thing about her— were her eyes.

  Huge, bzing with a mix of red and yellow like digital fmes— a result of her custom optical impnts.

  She designed them herself.

  Erina is 26, but she looks even younger—and like most girls her age, she’s always done up with fwless makeup and those pink piercings that decorate her already beautiful face.

  Everyone’s always stunned by her looks. But that’s not why she’s getting so many admiring stares right now. It’s because of her own work.

  “Firefly! Firefly!! Firefly!!!” The crowd cheers for her, full of emotion.

  Firefly—that’s what Erina is known as all across Cybria.

  Her fame goes way beyond mine and Ren’s. She’s recognized as one of the most skilled netrunners on the rise.

  A netrunner is a specific kind of hacker—one who dives their consciousness straight into digital networks to literally navigate the net from the inside.

  And Erina got her nickname, Firefly, because of her glowing eyes—like that little night bug.

  Light in the darkness. That’s who she is: a brilliant hacker and a genuinely kind soul.

  While the crowd chants her codename with reverence—clearly louder than they were for Ren—he doesn’t get jealous. In fact, he joins in with them to appud her.

  Her cheeks turn a soft pink as her glowing eyes light up even more. She can be a little shy sometimes, but she still smiles brightly at everyone.

  Erina’s humble and kind, but she knows how to appreciate her own accomplishments. She accepts all the glory she’s earned with genuine gratitude.

  She waves at the crowd with a radiant smile—drawing even more admiration and respect from them.

  As she slowly walks through the tunnel of appuse, she creates space for me, the third member of the Aye-Ayes—and definitely the least known.

  Honestly, I’ve always kept to myself. And I like it that way.

  Letting people get close just makes it hurt more when you lose them. That’s why the only people close to me are Erina… and Ren.

  But not that night…

  The folks at the Rusted Fangs wanted to cheer for me too—but I don’t think they even knew my name.I never really went around shouting it with pride like Ren did, and I wasn’t as insanely talented as Erina.

  But she always saw me differently. To her, I was someone special—someone meant to shine.

  Erina turned mid-walk, came back, and pulled me forward by the hand—lifting our arms together.

  “LUX!” She was the first to shout my name—her voice full of love and pride.

  “Lux! Lux!! Lux!!!” And just like that, the crowd lit up for me too—with appuse and cheers raining down.

  People were genuinely happy about our victory. Their admiration was real.

  Though… yeah, I’ll admit—some of the looks I was getting were a little different.

  I don’t know why my parents tossed me in the trash—and I try not to think about it—but I do have to thank them for their genes, as Erina always says.

  Now at 20 years old, I’m a healthy guy—1,90m tall, lean but athletic. Always on the move, after all.

  My skin’s light—not as pale as Erina’s—but close.

  And my face? Erina always says I’m attractive as hell—a "handsome devil" is her favorite phrase.

  She loves pointing out how sharp my dark brown eyes are, or how well-defined my jawline is. She even says my nose is "commanding"—whatever that means.

  And my bck hair? Well, she’s the one who cuts it—shaved sides like a military cut, but long strands left on top. Modern. Stylish. Intense.

  I don’t like bragging, but the girls at the Rusted Fangs? Yeah… they were looking at me with more than just admiration— Their eyes were full of desire.

  And it’s not like I was even dressed up that night. Just a long hoodie and some joggers—comfort over style, always.

  Erina, on the other hand, wore a pink-and-white dress with neon lights and silver accents.And Ren? He showed up in a suit—an actual damn suit—like some old-world celebrity at a ga.

  That was us. The Aye-Ayes trio. Soaking up the glory at the Rusted Fangs.

  That was the beginning of a night we’d never forget.

  I still remember the people shouting our names…

  “Aye-Ayes! Aye-Ayes!! Aye-Ayes!!!”

  (And yeah, the name came from an ugly as hell animal, by the way.)