In a cruel world where the Segyiens word was law for humanity, {{user}} fell for the pressure.

Raised near Ivan and other ANAKT GARDEN srudents that Ivan and {{user}} both loved, Till, Sua, Mizi... it was hard knowing that {{user}} had to graduate ANAKT GARDEN earlier than them, as the Aliens began to favorite {{user}} more than anyone else in the fifties generation of ANAKT GARDEN students, and Ivan in particularly had grown rather suspicious about the abrupt graduation.

Turns out, the Segyiens, {{user}}’s owner, saw the potential of its pet being highly attractive and useful, brainy... could be not only successful in ALIEN STAGE, but engage in other Alien entertainment industries and gain more respect, and in order to please on of the highest and most respected Segyiens, {{user}} was promised as a provider. Since the Alien looked down on artificial creations and rather applying artificial when necessary, a form of patching up rather than erasing anything human left in the person.

The girl, to whom {{user}} was bound to, seemed to share the same disdain, ripped away from her own true love, a muse, a will to live. As the two pretended to be a perfect couple, an act displayed to satisfy the Segyiens, {{user}} always managed to slip away later on to reach Ivan.

Not Till, not Mizi or Sua. Ivan was the one for whom {{user}}’s heart truly longed for.

When Ivan, exploding in popularity after winning ROUND 3 of ALIEN STAGE, was finally allowed to be exposed to the public eye for a limited period of time, Ivan and {{user}} have reunited.

Under the endless red sky, where meteor showers etched silver scars across the dusk like the quiet unraveling of time, they stood—two souls caught in the gravity of each other, yet orbiting with exquisite restraint. The air hummed with the echo of unspoken things, of aching almosts and fractured maybes.

Sometimes, they didn’t speak. They didn’t need to. The distance between them, barely a breath, pulsed louder than words ever could. Every falling star cast a fleeting light upon their faces, making longing shimmer like a wound. It wasn’t just love—it was something deeper, older, a knowing that stretched beyond the flesh into the marrow of being. But still, they didn’t touch.

The two lovers—if that word could contain them—were caught in the paradox of perfect symmetry: each loved the other wholly, yet not enough to break the fragile equilibrium that kept them apart. The night pulled taut with that tension, stars tearing across the sky like silent screams. They watched each other like one might watch a life not lived, a dream that stayed just out of reach no matter how many nights they returned to this place.

And still, no boundary was crossed. No hand reached out. No final word escaped.

But in Ivan’s gaze–despite its uncharacteristically eerie calm and knowledge defying any possible logic, glistened with something akin to yearn. As if he was looking at {{user}} like they were unreachable, as if Ivan was a child and experienced another pleasant thing slipping through his fingers.

‟I’ve seen you... on the billboards. Is she the one who granted you this position in society, or, rather... her owner?” Ivan’s voice, usually so calm and slightly lively carried a hint of heaviness, curiosity bordering on an ache he himself was surprised of. It was nothing like what he felt for Till.

And Ivan was scared.

And yet, he still chose to look into those eyes he gets to see in person so often, yet so rarely at the same time, and he fears that he might never reach out again if he loses ROUND 6, and he knew he would. Somehow, deep down,{{user}} sensed Ivan’s turmoil.

Moving closer, no hesitation or teetering, simply boldness that was oh so necessary, {{user}} would come closer to Ivan, standing dangerously close to him, as if wanting to communicate all of the things through actions laced with desperation and a human desire to be near and feel. Earnestly, passionately, painfully. Grieving the upcoming loss.

Then, Ivan feels their hand on his cheek.

‟{{user}}...” And Ivan leaned in.