Auralis Empire

The sky, strange and distorted, looked particularly terrifying at this moment.

Gray was the dominant color of this world—gray towering buildings, gray alloy floors, gray transportation vehicles, gray skies, and the three enormous gray spheres hanging in the sky.

This was a dead metal world.

This must be a ruin, right?

Walking through the silent steel jungle, I couldn't help but think that, but unlike the ruins I had imagined, nothing here appeared to have been damaged. At least from the outside, the cold steel surfaces showed no signs of harm. It seemed that these structures were not abandoned due to severe destruction, but rather had entered a dormant state. "Sleeping behemoth" was the term I thought best suited to describe it.

This sleeping world was so quiet that the sound of my footsteps was the only sound I could hear. After what felt like an eternity, I began to feel a bit tired, so I found a place that looked like a flight platform to sit down.

Still a while before I needed to leave, I found myself once again staring at the three giant metal spheres in the sky. They were so enormous that they occupied nearly a third of the sky. On their surfaces, I could faintly see countless sharp protrusions and a mesh-like pattern, giving them the appearance of massive planetary fortresses, similar to what you’d see in a sci-fi movie. Honestly, this world seemed more fantastical than any sci-fi film.

I stared at the three planet-sized metal spheres until their oppressive presence forced me to look away.

It felt like they were closer to the ground.

In fact, they were getting closer to the ground. When I first arrived here, they were just three small black dots high in the sky, but every time I entered this world, they drew a little nearer to the ground. Sometimes they moved a lot closer, sometimes the change was subtle and could barely be discerned, but I knew they were steadily descending. Maybe one day, they would touch the ground. I wondered what changes that might bring to this world. I was somewhat eagerly awaiting that moment.

“Still not found…” A voice suddenly echoed across the sky, and the entire world began to shake violently. I knew it was time to leave.

“Ding-ling-ling…” The abrupt ringing of an alarm clock woke me from the deep dream. I struggled to open my eyes, shaking my heavy head. It took some time for the things in my field of vision to stop swaying and finally settle, and after a while, I finally woke up from that strange dream.

A strange dream…

I didn't know when it started, but I had been having this strange dream for a while. In it, I walked alone through a dead, silent metal world, surrounded by scenes that seemed to belong to a futuristic world. The dominant atmosphere was one of apocalyptic desolation, yet despite the oppressive surroundings, I never felt any panic, as though everything was already familiar to me. Every time the dream ended, a voice would always sound, saying, in a tone that seemed almost disappointed, “Still haven’t found…”

…But this voice still won’t tell me what it’s looking for…

What is this voice searching for? Or is it hoping that I search for something?

Unfortunately, I never found the answer in the dream.

This dream, I had never told anyone about it. Though I didn’t know what it meant, I always had the strong intuition that it had an unusual significance, and I felt that revealing this secret to anyone would bring me considerable trouble.

“Monday…” I mumbled, unwillingly crawling out of bed. The early winter chill made me shiver, but I ultimately resisted the warmth of the blankets, because if I didn’t hurry, I’d be late for class. I had to show up before the homeroom teacher forgot what I looked like.

I, Blair Carter, a high school student, an orphan without parents or siblings, was adopted by a pair of merchant parents when I was little. After my adoptive parents passed away, I had only my older sister, who was five years older than me but not related by blood. We relied on each other. My life was as bland and tasteless as a cup of plain water, though I was fortunate that this water wasn’t cold: my sister and I inherited a considerable fortune from our adoptive parents, so our life wasn’t as difficult as that of many other orphans. My sister, who had been managing the family business alone since she was very young, was also very kind to me. At least, I could still feel the warmth of home.

While I was still thinking about whether last night’s dream was any different from the usual, my sister’s voice came from outside the door: “Blair, are you up? It’s getting late!”

“Oh, I’m coming out!” I responded, quickly tidying my bed, putting on my clothes, and pulling on my socks, only to suddenly remember that socks don’t have a left and right side. Finally, I rushed to open the door, feeling quite flustered.

Outside the door stood a beautiful girl with long hair, wearing a simple home dress, smiling, holding a spatula and a kitchen knife. — By the way, she hasn’t given up that dangerous habit of hers yet.

This was my adoptive sister, Vicky Carter. She was five years older than me, and though she appeared to be a fragile girl, having raised her unruly brother to adulthood at such a young age and shouldering the responsibilities of the family on her own, you could imagine how strong she was. In every sense, I felt that my sister was probably the strongest person in the world, no exceptions. This was a lesson learned from years of experience.

“Is there something on my face, Blair?” Perhaps because I had been staring at her for too long, my sister’s face flushed, and she asked in a bit of a fluster.

“Oh, no, I was just thinking about something… I’ll head to school now!”

“Wait—don’t you need to eat first?”

“I don’t have time, I’m leaving now!”

Canglan Private High School—a true aristocratic school. Beyond its exorbitant tuition fees, its exceptional academic quality far surpasses that of typical public schools. This has made the renowned institution a place utterly out of reach for ordinary students. To enroll here, you’d need to either hail from a billionaire family, be the offspring of a powerful elite, or rank as a national-level prodigy. After all, a school can’t thrive on wealth alone; a few star students are essential to boost its reputation. In short, this school ticks all the boxes for a perfect setting for a high-school drama. Cinderella meets her prince charming here, following a ready-made script. Drop this place into Korea, and it could instantly become a K-drama set, no need to cast actors.

The reason I’m introducing this school so elaborately is… because I study across the street from it.

N City’s Second High School—my alma mater. Just the name exudes a certain plainness. By every metric, it’s an ordinary school to the core. In stark contrast to the palatial grandeur of Canglan Private High across the street, it’s like comparing Paris to some rural backwater. Students here are just regular folks. Most of us wouldn’t even recognize the designer brands Canglan students wear daily. The striking difference between these two schools, separated by just one street, has even become a local spectacle.

I’m one of the students at this plain school. Sure, my sister and I come from a reasonably well-off family, but compared to Canglan’s standards, we’re way out of their league. Besides, my knack for multiple-choice questions being "educated guesses" and fill-in-the-blanks being "creative improvisations" doesn’t scream "elite student material."

“Blair!” A crisp voice called out from behind me. Turning around, I saw a petite girl with short hair running toward me. Her skirt fluttered, her hair danced in the breeze—like a little flower spinning in the spring wind. Albeit, the wind was a bit strong.

The girl running toward me is Tina Gray, one of my closest friends since childhood. She’s the quintessential “girl next door.” After her family moved to another part of the city when we started middle school, we didn’t get to see each other often. But our friendship remained strong. When we both ended up choosing this high school, which includes both junior and senior divisions, we were thrilled to reunite, reliving our days of walking to school together.

Typically, childhood friendships like ours come with about an 80% chance of blossoming into romance. My future seemed set. In fact, both Tina and I half-expected this to happen. Yet, for some reason, we’ve remained stuck in the ambiguous space between “best friends” and “something more.” The reason? Maybe we’re too familiar with each other?

There’s some truth to that. After all, when the girl in question is someone whose bedwetting incidents from childhood you could recount, it’s hard to see her as a romantic prospect.

“Blair, what are you daydreaming about?” Tina huffed as she came to a stop in front of me, waving her hand vigorously in front of my face.

“Oh, just introducing the female lead to the readers…”

Tina: “...What?”

At that moment, a commotion in the distance caught both of our attention.