Ibris' apartment sat high in one of the tallest, most prestigious buildings in the heart of the Underworld.  It was early morning, yet the metropolis sprawled below him in darkness. A dizzying maze of towering high-rises, roads, and bridges, all glowed with neon advertisements that cut through the shadows.

Ibris sat at his small dining table, nursing a cup of red tea from the Southern River City of Kemp, hoping it would help with his dull headache. He had overindulged in too many ambrosia drinks the night before, but the specifics were hazy. All he could clearly recall was that things had not gone well with Vega and Don at the Floating Canary, and that he had met a stunning cat halfbreed named Lira. Now that halfbreed lay fast asleep, sprawled across his bedsheets.

He stared out the window, lost in thought.

Lira stepped into the living room, Ibris' bedsheet draped around her body like a flowing gown.

His eyebrows lifted.

With a sly smile and mischief in her feline eyes, she let the fabric slip down, revealing soft curves.
"Good morning," she purred. "Come back to bed?"

Ibris turned back to the dark sky, his gaze locked on the shadowed underbelly of the floating islands. "Not yet." 

With a teasing laugh, Lira slowly sauntered over to him.

"What are you looking for up there?" she asked, her eyes following his line of sight.

"Wait," Ibris murmured, raising a finger toward the hovering landmasses as he took another sip of tea.

Suddenly, the sunlight poured in.

It cast a warm glow over Ibris, revealing the rich tones of his brown skin and striking features. His dark horns curved elegantly from his forehead, catching the light.

For the first time that morning, Ibris noticed the stark contrast between the dark gray walls and his minimalist furniture. The white sheets they had slept in now glowed in the light. He glanced over at Lira.

"Wow," she murmured.

Lira just stared at him, his face, his horns, entranced.

He smiled. His gaze met her eyes, their cat-like amber hues shimmering with an otherworldly beauty. The warmth illuminated her features, casting a soft glow on her skin.

"I haven't seen the sun in years," she murmured, running her fingers slowly over her face, savoring the warmth. "Not since I was a little girl, back when I was still with my family." She dropped the bedsheet, allowing the sunlight to kiss her entire body.

He felt the pull to take her back to bed, to tell her how damn good she looked, but he stayed still. Drank his tea, hoping it'd clear the headache from last night. Yoshua and Mazi would be here soon. He needed a clear head.

So he just watched her, admiring the way she moved through the sunlight.

"It's a shame. The sunlight suits you," he said, smirking.

"Then you'll have to take me outside of this city someday," she replied, playfully.

No one with wealth or privilege chose to live here willingly. The Underworld was a city of sin and shadows, a place shaped by crime, corruption, and desperation. People came here because they had no other choice, or because the world above had shut its doors to them. It was a last stop for many, and for those without resources, it became a trap they could never escape.

Despite having the resources to leave, Ibris stayed. For mission. For purpose. To help others like him.

"Someday," he murmured, pulling her close and kissing her deeply, a promise he had made to other women recently, yet never fulfilled.

But maybe he would take Lira...someday.

Lira looked back out the window over Ibris' shoulder. "I've never heard of anyone getting sunlight in the Underworld. How is this possible?" She said, awestruck.

Ibris recalled the first time his late wife, Serene, had seen sunlight in this apartment. He remembered her wide, joyful smile, a sight that filled his heart with warmth. The memory now made his heart ache. Shaking his head to dispel the thoughts, he remarked, "My guess is that whoever created the floating islands must have overlooked at least one small gap between the three pieces of land. The sunlight manages to filter through it and shines on my window for eleven minutes each day."

Suddenly, a chime echoed through the apartment, drawing his attention. The A.I. embedded in the walls stirred to life, its voice cool and mechanical. "Good morning, Ibris. I have Dr. Dubay on the line from the Clinic. Should I connect her?"

"Ava Nori," Ibris muttered, running a hand through the hair at the base of his horns. He had forgotten to change the A.I. setting for a guest last night. He looked nervously at Lira, then back at the A.I. "No, just message her that I'll be there shortly." He glanced at Lira, unsure how to gently suggest she leave, but before he could form the words, she interjected.

"The Clinic, huh? Do you work there?" She asked, curious.

He took a breath, choosing his words carefully. "Lira," he began, trying to keep his tone light. "Why don't I drop you off at home?"

"Can we wait until the sunlight passes?" She asked, almost purring.

"Of course," Ibris walked to his kitchen and began preparing breakfast. The rich aroma of  toasted bread filled the apartment.

"So you work at the Clinic?" she asked again.

"Yeah, something like that," Ibris replied, avoiding eye contact with her.

"I actually need to go to the Clinic," Lira added, pouting her lips slightly.

He paused in the kitchen, looking at her. "Are you alright?"

Lira sauntered over to him, completely unbothered by her nudity. She reached over the counter beside Ibris, grabbing the piece of toast he had just prepared with a bright fruit spread. She took a bite, her face lit up in delight.

"Ava Nori, what kind of berry is that?" She asked, savoring the flavor.

"Alemuri gooseberry," Ibris replied, focused on preparing another slice. The rich, tangy taste was one of his favorites.

"I've never had that before," Lira noted, filled with genuine wonder.

Ibris glanced up. "Why do you need to go to the Clinic?" he asked again, setting the knife down and giving her his full attention.

Lira hesitated. "Uhm..." She paused, setting down the bread. "I've been trying to get Vironox." She walked over to the window and wrapped herself in the sheets again.

Vironox was an experimental medication, primarily for halfbreeds recovering from aethris and vervain addictions, common but potent street drugs.

Ibris blinked. "Oh."

He had never used, though he had sold both briefly during the war to make ends meet.

"It was aethris. I've been clean for over ten months," Lira said, her cheeks coloring as she fell silent. 

Ibris knew very well that aethris was the milder of the two drugs. Not many who got hooked on vervain survived.

"No judgment," Ibris assured her, his eyes drifting to the empty ambrosia bottles scattered across the kitchen counter. "I have my share of vices." He moved toward his closet and pulled on a loose grey short-sleeve shirt and khaki pants that hung comfortably at his waist.

Today, he wouldn't be making a formal work visit to the Clinic, he was seeing his friends after some time.

"Listen, I should just go," she murmured, a hint of regret in her voice as she slipped back into the bedroom. When she returned, she was dressed in her fitted black knee-length dress, fidgeting with the hem before tugging on her high boots.

"No, no," he interjected gently.

"The subway's just around the corner," she insisted, glancing out the window.

"Please, if it's okay with you, I'd like to take you to the Clinic," he said, carrying a chivalrous warmth.

She paused for a moment.

Then, a small, appreciative smile touched her lips.

"Alright. Thank you."

They descended to the building's entrance, where his self-driving black transport awaited, its low hum filling the silence as they climbed in. This time, Ibris did not take his usual route through the secure tunnel. Instead, he directed the transport toward the Clinic's front entrance, facing the bustling street in District 34 of the northern sector of the Underworld.

It was a rare choice for him. He usually avoided the crowded main floor entrance.

As they approached, the Clinic's imposing facade loomed ahead, its lobby aglow in shifting hues of blue and green that illuminated the glass walls. Towering metallic columns stretched to the ceiling, framing large holographic screens that showcased vibrant advertisements for new medicines, medical treatments, and robotic augmentations.

He took a deep breath before entering.

Inside, the lobby seamlessly combined technology and utilitarian design, featuring polished black marble floors, chrome railings, and a reception desk with touch-sensitive displays. The air hummed with the ambient whirr of high-tech machinery, while occasional bursts of neon light reflected off the walls.

Lira approached a kiosk tablet, entering her information. About thirty halfbreeds sat in the Clinic's waiting area. A large digital screen flashed a wait time of over four hours.

Ibris frowned, masking his frustration. He gestured toward the rows of chairs. "Wait here," he said lightly, masking his frustration.

Four hours, you've got to be kidding me. He made a mental note to talk to the staff about it later.

As Lira settled into a chair, Ibris approached the reception desk, where a deer halfbreed woman sat. Her short brown hair framed a gentle face, and delicate antlers sprouted from her temples. Her large, doe-like eyes widened in surprise as she recognized him.

Ibris caught her gaze and nodded, keeping his expression neutral.

"Ibris! It's been a while," she said warmly, her deer-like ears twitching with concern.

"Mini," Ibris greeted. "I have a friend in the waiting area over there. Lira." He nodded toward Lira, still fixated on the glowing screen showing the wait times. "Can you get her in?"

"Of course." Mini's nodded quickly, her fingers flying over the tablet as she entered a series of numbers.

Ibris returned to Lira, finding her still staring at the screen. To her surprise, her name now flashed prominently. Second in line.

"How did you do that?" Lira asked, her brows furrowing in disbelief.

Ibris shrugged, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I have to go, but I'll call you later."

"But you don't have my contact."

"Oh," he said, pulling out his tablet. She touched hers to his, and the devices emitted soft beeps. "There, I have your contact now," he added, leaning in for one last kiss.

As Lira released him from her tight embrace, Ibris hurried through the waiting area, his focus unwavering. He passed Mini again, who gave him an quick nod.

The main area of client intake at the Clinic was bustling with patients filling out forms and waiting for their names to be called. As he passed, heads turned, and surprised murmurs rippled through the crowd. He felt the weight of both staff and patient eyes on him and on his horns.

He navigated to a backroom, punching in a code at the door. At the back of the room, a pair of double doors stood slightly ajar. With a quick glance to ensure no one had followed him in, Ibris pushed through the doors. Behind them was an elevator, its heavy gate a stark contrast to the sleek design of the rest of the Clinic.

He opened the gate with practiced ease and stepped inside. A brief sense of relief washed over him as he closed the double doors. The sliding gate clanked shut.

Ibris pressed a series of codes into the elevator's interface. The beeping echoed in the small space. The elevator spun to life, descending far below the ground level. He felt both anticipation and apprehension as the digital display ticked away, counting the floors. He dropped deeper into the hidden levels of the Clinic.

Finally, the elevator halted with a soft mechanical chime. "Please provide verbal code for access."

Ibris took a steadying breath and replied, "Serene."

The doors slid open, revealing a starkly lit corridor. The air was cooler here, filled with the sterile scent of disinfectants and something more clinical.

As Ibris stepped out, an android greeted him. Polished silver metal gleamed under the harsh lights. It stood just over six feet tall, only a couple inches shorter than Ibris. It had smooth, angular features that gave it an elegant appearance. The android's face was devoid of expression, with flat, reflective surfaces and a mouth that was a seamless line across its visage. Despite its lack of emotion, the android exuded sophistication.

"Welcome, Ibris," it intoned, devoid of warmth yet oddly soothing. The android's movements were fluid and precise. Its joints seamlessly articulated, allowing it to pivot gracefully as it spoke.

"Where's Alana, Zeru?" Ibris asked, scanning the hallway.

"Dr. Dubay is in room six," Zeru replied.

Ibris made his way down the corridor, the soft whirring of the android's servos fading into the background. The android trailed closely behind him.

He approached room six and found Dr. Dubay and Yoshua deep in conversation, their voices low and urgent. The air was thick with tension, accentuated by the sight of Jahui's body, still shrouded and resting on a stretcher. Mazi stood nearby, absorbing every word.

This can't be good.

In the corner, a young woman with dark hair cradled a baby, who Ibris assumed was Yoshua's niece, Kaya. Ibris hesitated, taking in the somber scene before stepping fully into the room.

"Ibris, finally," Dr. Dubay said, noticing his presence as Ibris stepped into the room.

Yoshua turned to Ibris, visibly angry. "We brought Jahui's body so that Dr. Dubay could do an autopsy on the body, but—"

"But what?" Ibris interjected, urgently.

Dr. Dubay hesitated, her brow furrowing with concern. "Jahui was basically murdered. We should map her brain and run it through our consciousness drive."

A consciousness drive was a novel technology, capable of creating lifelike avatars that simulated the recently deceased, complete with their memories from their last day. Sometimes it was able to simulate the last week of their lives. Users could plug in and engage in conversations with these avatars, allowing them to interact with lost loved ones in a digital realm.

It was a technology developed by Sumeri Industries in Alemuria. Though its applications were broad, in recent years, the drive had been adapted for use by law enforcement in Alemuria, giving investigators access to crucial insights that could help solve cases involving sudden or violent deaths.

"That's a valid recommendation," Zeru affirmed, supporting Dr. Dubay's suggestion.

"Shut up, Zeru," Ibris snapped.

"As you wish," the android replied.

"The drive will butcher her body, Ibris," Yoshua protested. "You won't be able to conduct a full autopsy. Hasn't Jahui been through enough already?"

To utilize the consciousness drives, medical professionals relied on androids to perform an intricate extraction procedure. This process involved carefully removing the entire brain, spinal cord, and major nerves from the deceased, after which they mapped the memories stored within those vital components. This process left the body unrecognizable, as it liquefied other parts of the body during the removal of the nervous system.

Ibris remained quiet for a minute before saying, "I agree with Dr. Dubay, Yoshua. Don't you want to know what happened to Jahui?"

"This technology is an abomination, a blatant violation of the laws of Humrab," Yoshua protested.

"I understand those archaic laws very well," Ibris said, quitely, almost pensive.

He had spent years studying them, before the civil war, during his time as an acolyte at the Grand Citadel on the floating islands.

Legend had it that the laws of Humrab were older than Atlantis itself. They formed an extensive and ancient legal framework covering nearly every aspect of life. While not explicitly part of modern Atlantean law, they served as the foundation for most current legislation. One particular section forbade the merging of human consciousness with androids.

"Fine. The technology is still experimental at best," Yoshua pressed on.

Ibris knew the stories, chilling tales of the wealthy trying to map the minds of their recently deceased. The process was riddled with failures. The technology was still in its infancy, and the mapped nervous systems were often too damaged, either by the circumstances of death or the extraction, making it impossible for the consciousness drive to generate a coherent avatar.

But Ibris had made up his mind.

"Don't you want to find out what happened to Geshar?"

Yoshua hesitated. "I do, but..." He glanced toward Kaya, who was listening intently, a look of sheer horror etched on her features. Baby Kiran, nestled in her lap, crying, his tiny fists clenched.

Ibris glanced at her, feeling her distress.

This isn't easy for any of us.

"We don't have much time left. The body is already decaying, and we need to prepare her for the removal process," Dr. Dubay insisted.

Ibris looked between Kaya, Yoshua, and Mazi.

"It's the only way we can get answers."

Mazi, who had remained silent throughout the discussion, finally spoke up. "We can draw blood from the body, before the extraction for the consciousness drive, if there's any viable blood, and run more through antibody tests." He cast a thoughtful look at baby Kiran, nestled in Kaya's arms. "Maybe that will give us something."

"That's a good idea," Dr. Dubay stepped forward in agreement. "It's not a full autopsy, but it may help us understand if Jahui's death was caused by rejection of the blood transfusions."

"This isn't right. We shouldn't have brought her body here," Yoshua said as he walked over to Kaya, gently taking the baby from her arms. "Geshar would not have wanted this," he added and left the room, with Kaya following closely behind.

Ibris knew how Yoshua felt about proper burials, his beliefs, the importance of it all. But he needed to know what happened to Geshar.

"Run the blood tests." Ibris urged Mazi.

Mazi nodded, directing the android, Zeru, to handle the blood extraction. The android moved with precision, collecting the medical pen devices and performing the procedure with precise attention to detail.

Ibris glanced at Dr. Dubay, the weight of his decision pressing between them. "What are the chances the consciousness drive will create a viable avatar?"

"Maybe less than half, given the circumstances." Dr. Dubay replied.

Ibris nodded, weighing the risks in his mind. "It's still worth it if there's a chance we can speak to her." The gravity of his words lingered in the air. He paused, then added, "How long is it going to take?"

"About two days," Dr. Dubay replied. "Roughly twelve hours for the removal process and a day and a half for the mapping."

This better work. Ibris shook his head.

"Do it," he said, decisively, and stepped into the hall.

He found Yoshua cradling baby Kiran, engaged in a hushed conversation with his niece, Kaya.

As she saw Ibris, her eyes darted between his face and horns, then quickly dropped to the floor. When their eyes met for a split second, she looked away, visibly nervous and blushing.

To Ibris, Dariq's daughter hardly seemed to bear any traces of her wolf heritage. Kaya looked entirely human at first glance, though there was a glint of wolf-like instinct in her eyes, and the subtle way she moved her head to take in her surroundings.

Ibris exhaled again, centering himself.

"You must be Kaya," he said to her, extending a hand. "I'm Ibris," he added gently, offering a proper introduction.

Kaya hesitated for a moment, her hand lingering in the air before finally reaching out to shake Ibris' hand. "Hello," she replied quietly. "My uncle and Mazi have told me a lot about you."

"All good things, I hope," Ibris said, smirking.

She nodded, still nervous.

"Can't make any promises there," Yoshua chimed in with a wry grin.

At that, Ibris burst into laughter, the sound genuine and warm. Yoshua joined him, and for the first time, their shared joy echoed through the Clinic's hall. They embraced in a hug like brothers. "It's been so long, Yoshua," Ibris exclaimed, stepping back to look at his friend.

Yoshua nodded, warm smile.

"Ever since Serene... you have not come down here. Why do you hide up in those mountains?" Ibris asked.

A pang of sadness tightened in his chest. Yoshua was his closest friend. He'd stayed with Ibris for a short while after the funeral, then disappeared for over a year and a half.

"My family needed—" Yoshua started, but the weight of his words caught in his throat. He paused, a shadow crossing his features before he added, "You're right, I haven't been a good friend." His face was visibly sad as he looked down.

Ibris knew there was more going on with Yoshua. Always was. Something deeper. He'd have to pull it out.

Ibris turned to Kaya. "Your uncle is one of the best men I know," he said. "He's saved my life more times than I can count during the war and after."

Yoshua's cheeks flushed. He shifted, eyes remained on the floor.

Kaya listened, focused. She knew her uncle never talked about the war. "Did you know my Pa, too?" she asked, surprising Yoshua.

Ibris nodded, sadness weighing on him. "Dariq was brave. A man of honor, very serious, like Yoshua. But maybe a bit more fun."

Kaya smiled.

"I'm sorry about Aiyana," Ibris said, his voice soft with genuine sorrow. "She was kindhearted and loving. Just like Serene..." His words faltered. Grief caught in his throat. He stood there, awkward, the weight of unspoken memories pressing down. He couldn't bring himself to talk about Serene.

Yoshua placed a firm, comforting hand on Ibris' shoulder.

Baby Kiran cried, pulling Ibris' attention. A sharp pang of sadness shot through him. The sight of a halfbreed baby stirred painful memories of his son. Ibris extended a large finger toward Kiran's tiny fist. The baby gripped it tightly.

"He's strong," Ibris remarked, admiration in his voice.

Kiran cooed softly, lifting the heavy mood in the room.

"You're right. He is going to have Geshar's wings," Ibris said, noting the small feathers on the baby's shoulders.

Yoshua nodded. "Yes, he will."

"Speaking of flying," Ibris said, irritation creeping back in. "Where is Esa?"

Yoshua shook his head, solemnly. "He left after Jahui... after she passed," he said hesitantly.

Ibris frowned, his mind racing ahead, considering the implications. He stroked his shadowed beard.

"He really saved us out there."

Ibris, however, was too preoccupied to register Yoshua's gratitude.

Kaya spoke up, concern in her voice. "Esa was really upset, when he left."

Ibris exhaled, sharply. "This is precisely why I avoid involving Esa when it comes to halfbreed mothers."

"Why?" Yoshua asked.

Ibris sighed and glanced away. "It's a long story."

Down the hall, Dr. Dubay's distant voice broke the silence, directing Zeru to begin the procedure. Mazi spoke softly to both Dr. Dubay and Zeru, their words a hushed collaboration. The mechanical beeps and whirs of the android and medical equipment filled the air, drowning out their thoughts and enveloping them in an unsettling ambiance.

Suddenly, Ibris straightened, his gaze locking onto his tablet. The name read: "Marcus."

He slowly looked up. "I need a favor."

▰▰▰▰▰ ◉ ▰▰▰▰▰

Chapter Soundtrack

"Gimme Shelter" by The Rolling Stones 

Author's Note

We see Ibris from contrasting angles: sunlight and intimacy in his Underworld penthouse against the shadows of grief, broken promises, and impossible choices at the Clinic. For Ibris, every moment is a tug-of-war between past and present, love and duty, friendship and responsibility.

Do you think he can keep balancing his worlds, or will they finally break him?