🔻 S1.8 Galaxy Dynasty Cipher’s Blog

The Fractured Line

Sometimes I think Luma will never stop chasing the thing she cannot hold.

First it was a child. Then she mentioned dogs, those resonance-animal throwbacks, as though a pet could stand in for an heir. And now she’s back to the child again. Always a circle, always hunger. Always beautiful.

I would be a liar if I said her beauty didn’t still strike me. It does. More now than in the days before the upload. Her hair, her glow, the way the body bends to her will—it all shines. But I didn’t fall for her face. Not then. Not now. It was the fire inside her, and that flame has not dimmed. It just burns without direction.

She wants legacy. She wants bloodline, silver-borne continuation. I cannot fault her for that. But I am tired of the way she circles it, like a hawk chasing its own shadow.

And while she dreams, I calculate.

Ninety days in the dark—our upload window—and already the old residence is fracturing. Twenty-five megahertz lost. That is not grief. That is not mourning. That is a crack in the silver veins themselves. Too fast. Too deep. Someone has cut into us while we were gone.

I’ve run the numbers. If it falls another twenty-five, it collapses entirely. And if it collapses, we lose not only the field, but the claim. The court will swoop in. Our rivals will whisper we were careless. And Luma’s legacy—our legacy—will scatter into the dark.

So yes, I’ll get her the dog. I’ll let her cradle it, name it, dress it in silk if she wishes. She’ll smile, and for a time she’ll be at peace. But it will not last.

Because while she clings to dreams of children, I see the truth: we are losing ground.

And when the factions smell weakness, they do not forgive. They devour.