Chapter 12: Room 555
[[Locations: Tower of the new age, Arisa's room ]]
The door slid open with a soft hydraulic hiss. A current of cool, purified air swept over Arisa, carrying that crisp, sterile scent only found in places untouched by life. A faint blue line tracing the path inward, slipping beneath the floor's seamless panels as if guiding her in.
She stepped through. Behind her, the door sealed itself shut with a quiet click, the lights within blooming to life. A low hum filled the silence. The glow from the walls and ceiling shifted subtly, forming soft veins of white and red beneath the black and gray surfaces. Every edge of the condo was precise, the air felt balanced, perfectly temperature controlled, with a serenity that almost made her uneasy.
At the end of the short hallway, she caught a glimpse of the living room. A slate gray sofa facing a massive, wall length screen, its edges still faintly lit from standby mode. The light tracing the path reflected off the polished black flooring, creating a mirrored echo of her figure as she moved forward.
"Welcome home, Arisa."
She froze. The voice wasn't coming from her Kleidi, the key slot took it. The voice was around her. Gentle, synthetic, yet familiar. As it spoke, the thin light paths running along the walls pulsed softly, in sync with the words. Arisa's brows furrowed slightly.
"I am now integrated with your living environment," the AI explained in the same composed tone. "Your Kleidi has synchronized with the property security core. This space is accessible only through your registered biometric signature."
Arisa tilted her head slightly, scanning the apartment as if trying to see where the voice came from. "So… you're everywhere now?"
"Everywhere you allow," it replied. "Your Kleidi's unique digital footprint is now embedded within the apartment's systems. I can assist with security, automation, and limited domestic functions. Or provide data related to the D.O.P. network, your assignments, and current district operations."
The lights shifted faintly again, as though the condo itself was breathing with the AI's rhythm. Arisa stood still, absorbing everything. The quiet hum of technology, the subtle red undertones that softened the metallic atmosphere, the way the room felt both welcoming and foreign all at once.
Her eyes moved slowly across the dark surfaces, reflecting the faint glow of her irises. "Guess I'm really here now," she whispered.
The AI's voice softened, resonating through the walls. "Before activation is complete, I will require a designation. Please assign me a name. This system is active only within this residence."
Arisa's eyes drifted along the sleek corridor as the voice continued. She stepped forward, still trying to absorb the calm precision around her. "Are you gonna talk a lot too? " she muttered under her breath, though there was no real bite to it.
The AI continued. "When you exit, your Kleidi will resume standard functions. Security protocols and access remain limited to your fingerprint authorization."
Arisa exhaled, her hand brushing the cool wall as she walked. It felt alive, faint vibrations running beneath the surface, lights pulsing with her movements. How does anyone live in a place like this? she thought. The hum of invisible systems filled the air. And just as she began to feel the weight of it all, the hallway opened.
Her steps stopped cold, It wasn't a room. It was everything in one. A vast, open expanse stretched before her, an entire world folded into one chamber. The living room, kitchen, bedroom, gym, and library all flowed together not divided by walls, but sculpted by design. It was Minimalist, but still had that futuristic look.
Below her, two shallow steps descended into a sunken living room, its black floors framed by soft red light strips that traced the edge. A massive screen was built seamlessly into the wall, and in front of it sat a gray sectional sofa, large enough for a crowd but angled to feel intimate.
The ambient glow dimmed automatically, leaving a low warmth that followed her movements. Arisa's reflection ghosted across the floor as she stepped down.
To the left, a king size bed rested on a raised platform, sheets of deep black fur folded neatly, white pillows like untouched snow. A sleek desk stood nearby, and above it, a half finished investigation board. Notes, pins, red thread. Her breath hitched. It was almost identical to what she built in Manko's underground lab.
Her gaze swept further, the kitchen. Compact but refined, with metallic counters that adjusted their height automatically. Then her eyes moved right. A personal gym, stocked with every machine she'd ever trained on. "This is too specific," she murmured.
And when she turned fully to the far right, she froze again. A miniature library, crafted with curved black shelving that spiraled upward, hugging the wall in elegant precision. Empty shelves waited like open hands, reaching toward the ceiling's soft white glow.
A silence followed. Heavy but thoughtful. She lowered her gaze, feeling that strange mix of admiration and discomfort again. "Manko…" she whispered. "Did you…?" It didn't make sense. Yet somehow, this place knew her.
The AI broke the silence, gentle as ever. "Would you like assistance with something?"
Arisa looked around again. At the investigation board, the gym, the empty shelves. She exhaled slowly, "No," she said quietly.
She took one last look at her surroundings. This sterile perfection pretending to be a home. She finally stepped down into the living room. The lights dimmed again, matching her movements. As Arisa stepped down into the living room area, her eyes caught something near the sofa.
A cluster of bags, her bags. They sat neatly stacked in front of the couch. She stopped, her expression flattening. She had only carried one from Ronnie's ship. Yet here they were. Perfectly placed, as if they'd been waiting.
Her eyes narrowed. "Tell me," she said, her voice echoing faintly in the vast room. "If this place is so secure… how did the rest of my bags get here?"
But only silence replied, the ambient light traced faint blue lines along the ceiling but offered no response. Arisa's brow furrowed, irritation threading through her fatigue. But before she could say anything.
"Awaiting name registration," the AI replied evenly.
"The system cannot process requests until it has been assigned a designation."
Arisa exhaled slowly through her nose, the corners of her mouth twitching in faint disbelief. "Whatever, I'll just call you… Abby." At once, the lights brightened. Soft pulses rippling across the floor and walls.
"Designation accepted. Initializing Abby." A smooth hum filled the air, like the apartment itself was waking up. Then, silence again.
Arisa waited a beat, glancing at the ceiling. "I'm gonna be honest, Abby…" she said, a bit annoyed. "I'd rather not repeat myself."
The system flickered back to life, responding in the same calm, measured tone. "Acknowledged. Regarding your inquiry prior to activation, each residence in the Tower of the New Age is accessible to authorized design and maintenance personnel. When a previous occupant vacates, interior teams rebuild and refit the room according to the incoming resident's personal data and D.O.P. profile."
Arisa's eyes shifted toward her bags again. Then the room around "I'm assuming it was my old man who gave them personal info"
"Correct. While construction and furnishing were ongoing, your belongings were retrieved and placed accordingly. However, once your Kleidi was inserted into the activation port, your AI system came online and external access was terminated. Effective immediately, only the registered owner may enter."
The voice faded, leaving only the gentle hum of electricity under the walls. Arisa stared for a long moment, her reflection faint in the black glass of the television.
She then crouched, brushing a hand along one of her bags, her expression unreadable. The air around her didn't feel sterile. Arisa finally unstrapped the bag she'd carried since the docks, letting it slide off her shoulder and land softly against the polished floor. The quiet thud felt heavier than it should have.
"Alright, Abby," she said, her tone low but clear. "How do I get my Kleidi back?" The apartment lights flickered faintly at the sound of her voice.
"Upon exit," Abby replied smoothly, "place your finger on the outer panel. The lock will identify your print and return your Kleidi through the same slot in which it was inserted."
Arisa nodded once, satisfied. "That's cool," she murmured, half to herself. She knelt beside her bag, unzipping it slowly, the sound sharp against the stillness. Piece by piece, she began to unpack. Clothing, gear, and personal items. All arranged with careful precision. The weight of travel eased from her shoulders, but the quiet of the room grew heavier.
The silence wasn't peaceful, not yet at least. The walls, layered in thick dark composites, blocked out the entire world. No city noise. No hum of engines. Not even the faint chatter of life below. Just her, and the soft breath of artificial air cycling through hidden vents.
As Arisa worked, the ambient glow around her dimmed to a low, resting hue. Blue fading into gray. Abby had gone quiet now, as if retreating into the walls.
She moved through the space methodically, piece by piece bringing life to the sterile quiet of the condominium. The once empty shelves of her small library now held a scattering of worn books and notes. Far from full, but no longer barren. Every item she unpacked softened the edges of the place, bending it ever so slightly toward something that resembled home.
At her bedside, she paused. On the left nightstand, she placed a small framed photograph. A moment frozen in time. Her and Manko standing side by side, she looked younger. The sunlight reflecting across their faces. She studied it for a moment, then turned to the right nightstand.
There, she set down another frame. Not a photo, but a hand drawn picture. Four figures, herself, Rena, Jessica, and Chris. The lines were uneven, the coloring soft, and in the corner, Jessica's name was signed with a small heart at the end. Arisa's hand lingered over it, her thumb brushing the glass. For a few quiet seconds, her guard dropped eyes faintly heavy, a flicker of warmth and ache in the same breath before she turned away.
She took a slow look around the room, scanning the walls as if searching for something unseen. "Abby," she finally said, voice breaking the silence, "…where's the bathroom?" The lights lining the floor brightened faintly in response, pulsing once before leading her gaze toward the hallway.
"The bathroom is integrated into the left wall, behind the sliding panel," Abby replied. "I'll open it now." A soft hiss followed. Mechanical and clean, as a seamless section of the wall slid open, revealing a hidden space within.
Arisa grabbed the folded clothes she'd left on the couch and made her way over. Inside, the bathroom glowed in muted tones of black stone and frosted glass. The walls shimmered faintly under strips of recessed white light that ran like veins through the room's edges. The air was warm, carrying a faint scent of sterilized mist.
A large mirror stretched across the wall above a basin carved from dark marble, its edges softly lit by a rim of cool blue light. The floor was a sleek, metallic gray that warmed subtly under her feet as she stepped in. To the far side, a glass enclosure revealed a shower that looked more like a chamber. Jets built seamlessly into the walls, steam coiling upward like breath in cold air.
It was beautiful, almost clinical, but with just enough warmth. The door slid shut behind her with another hiss, the soundless comfort of solitude wrapping around her once more. Arisa pulled away the layers of her clothing one by one until only her fitted sports bra remained. She stopped in front of the mirror.
For a moment, she simply stared. As if trying to recognize the person looking back. The faint light traced over the ink like corpses curling along her skin, the same ones that had once terrified her. A long breath escaped her before she finished undressing and disappeared behind the shower's glass door.
——
Moments later, steam spilled out as the panel slid open. Arisa stepped into the room, bare feet brushing the chilled floor. The faint hum of the apartment wrapped around her like a low vibration. She draped a towel loosely across her neck, droplets sliding from the ends of her black hair as she moved.
Now in a pair of short, dark yoga shorts and a similar sports bra as before, she felt more at ease. Her body relaxed for the first time in days. There was strength and beauty in her frame, a quiet elegance in how she moved. A reminder of her mother's lineage, though her presence carried something distinctly her own.
She crossed the living area toward the kitchen, pulling the towel from her shoulders and tossing it without care onto the couch. The sound of the soft thud echoed faintly against the high ceiling.
Her hair, still damp, caught the glow from the overhead lights. Small glimmers of silver reflecting along the moisture. "Let's see if they even left anything in here," she murmured, voice low and tired, her tone carrying a faint smirk.
The refrigerator door opened with a dull hiss of cool air, revealing nothing but clean, empty shelves. She stared at it for a second, expression unreadable, then exhaled a small sigh, neither frustration nor surprise. "Well… that answers that."
She shut the door with a quiet thump and turned to scan the rest of the kitchen. Drawers, cabinets, the sleek counters. All pristine and untouched, waiting for someone to live here. The soft, bluish light under the counters caught along her arms and shoulders as she moved. The vast apartment felt alive from her presence filling it.
As Arisa checked through every corner of the kitchen, she called out, "Hey, Abby, do they have food here? Or some sort of service?" Her voice echoed softly in the sleek, quiet room as she closed the last drawer she'd opened.
The house lights pulsed gently as Abby's voice returned, calm and mechanical. "This tower includes a cafeteria and dining area. Residents are limited to three plates a day. Additional meals incur a charge. Room service is also available upon request, with a small compensation fee that goes directly to the attendant delivering your food."
Arisa sighed, glancing down at herself. Still wearing her workout clothes, skin glinting faintly under the red ambient lights. "Well, I'm not walking down there like this. Mind calling room service for me?"
"Connecting you now," Abby replied. The lights flickered again, this time in a different rhythm, steady, like a heartbeat. Then a familiar voice came through the room's speakers.
"Room service, how may I help you, Miss Arisa?" It was the woman from the front desk. Her tone was recognizable and gentle.
As the woman's voice came through the speakers, Arisa leaned casually against the kitchen counter. "Fridge's empty. Was wondering what I can fill it with," she said, her tone laid back.
The lady on the other end replied smoothly, "Well, you can either order a meal prepared by our chefs downstairs, or request a list of grocery items to fit your needs."
Suddenly, the front of the fridge glowed a soft hum filling the air as a panel lit up into a sleek touch screen. "I've activated your fridge's picking list. You'll see all available options there. You can build your own list and call for delivery whenever you're ready," the woman explained.
Arisa tilted her head slightly, watching the light play across the metallic surface before stepping closer. The soft glow from the screen reflected off her damp skin. "Damn, that's fancy," she muttered, scrolling through the glowing options.
The woman chuckled gently on the other end. "You're a very special guest here in the Tower. Treatment like this is only fitting."
Arisa, still focused on the fridge screen. "And once I call this in, who's gonna bring it up here? You, I hope."
There was a pause. A slight hitch in the woman's breath before she replied, her voice suddenly less composed. "N-no, it won't be me, Miss Arisa."
Without missing a beat, Arisa shot back, her tone casual. "What if I pay extra?"
The woman hesitated, then tried to sound professional again. "That would be… breaking my guidelines, Miss Arisa."
Arisa couldn't help but smirk to herself. The flustered tone told her everything she needed to know. "That's fair," Arisa said, unbothered as she began filling the digital cart. Milk, eggs, water, fruits. Then, with no hesitation, zebra cakes. She also added a rotisserie chicken to eat. "Alright, I think I'm fine with this," she said, satisfied.
"Perfect! We'll get that started for you right away. Someone should be up with your items shortly," the woman said enthusiastically. "It's a pleasure to have you here. Enjoy the rest of your night!"
"Thanks," Arisa replied simply, stepping away from the fridge. The lights that had brightened during the call faded softly as she walked back toward the living room. She tugged lightly at her shorts, pulling them down after they'd ridden up from her earlier movements. Then, with a lazy motion, she sank into the couch. The leather cushioned her comfortably as she let out a quiet sigh.
Her eyes drifted toward the massive TV, then to the walls around it. Something about them caught her attention. They looked normal at first glance, but the faint seams running along their edges betrayed their disguise. "Abby," Arisa called, her tone curious, "open the shutters?"
A moment later, the soft light patterns along the walls flickered in response. A mechanical hum filled the air as the panels behind the TV slowly parted, folding away to reveal a sweeping view of the academy grounds and the city beyond. Protected by a thick, tinted glass that shimmered faintly under the lights.
Arisa stood, her bare feet tapping softly against the cool floor as she approached. The city stretched endlessly before her, its skyline alive with color and motion. The glow washed over her, tracing the lines of her figure in warm light and cool reflections.
A smirk curved her lips."I'll admit…" she murmured, eyes glinting with faint amusement. "This is one hell of a view."
Arisa's reflection lingered in the glass as her gaze sharpened, the glow of the city below burning faintly in her violet eyes. What stretched before her was breathtaking. Towers of light, sky rails gliding like ribbons of silver. But she knew better.
This was only the view they wanted her to see, the image of order and progress the D.O.P. fed to the world. Behind that shimmering skyline lay the rot. The kind of corruption you couldn't wash off with money or clean air. She knew. She'd lived it. She was the proof of what they were capable of.
Her expression darkened as the thought pressed deeper. They believed she was under control. A weapon tamed and brought into their grasp. They were wrong.
"It won't take me long…" she murmured, her voice low, the city's reflection flickering in her glowing violet eyes. "I'll turn this whole city on its head." Right then, the soft chime of an advertisement echoed through the room. The same one she'd seen earlier in the streets.
"You can be what the world needs…"
Arisa's jaw clenched. "Abby," she said sharply, turning away from the window. "Close the shutters."
With a mechanical whisper, the panels sealed shut, erasing the city's gleam from view. The glow that had washed across her faded, leaving her once again in the cool stillness of her new home.
——-
A soft hum filled the elevator, the mechanical thrum of the Towers veins moving ever upward.
Two men stood side by side, carts in front of them loaded with neatly packed bags and food containers. Both wore clean D.O.P. service uniforms, though their postures told different stories. One relaxed, the other heavy with quiet thought.
The blonde man leaned against the side rail, glancing at the other's cart. "So," he said, tone light, "who's room you got?"
The man with short brown hair checked the delivery tag clipped to his cart. "Room 555," he replied, voice low.
The blonde let out a short, teasing laugh. "Wow. There are only two C.F.R. members in this whole tower, and you got one of them."
He eyed the bags, there were more than usual. "And from the looks of it, they're hungry. Isn't it like, three in the morning?"
The brown haired man looked at his watch. "Yeah," he said. "And I asked Lora, it's Arisa."
The blonde blinked, the humor slipping from his tone. "Oh shit… the Sakarame girl?"
The brown haired man nodded. "I'm surprised you even know that. It should've been kept quiet for a while, but word already got out from Ronnie. She basically gave herself away."
The elevator climbed higher, lights flickering across their faces as the blonde exhaled through his nose. "Yeah, it spread fast. You can't convince me she's here for a good reason."
The brown haired man's eyes lingered on his cart, the name Arisa printed faintly across the top of one of the bags. "I read what that branch did to them," he said quietly. "Hell, I even read the injury report on Arisa… she's not supposed to be alive. Let alone standing here in Norad."
The blonde man's expression darkened for a beat, then he shrugged, forcing a nervous laugh. "Yeah, and she's already defied them. Now everyone knows a Sakarame's a C.F.R. member." He turned to look at his partner. "I wonder if she's really gonna work with us."
The brown haired man finally met his gaze. His voice came steady and sharp. "If your family was slaughtered… and raped… would you?"
The words hung in the stale air. The blonde froze, the weight of that question pressing into the silence. Then, after a moment, he exhaled and forced a grin to cut the tension.
"Well, thankfully you got her, not me," he said with a weak chuckle, pushing his cart out as the elevator doors slid open.
The brown haired man smiled faintly, though his eyes stayed on the panel lights. "At least this is the last part of my shift," he muttered. The doors closed, the sound echoing in the empty shaft as the elevator continued upward carrying him closer to Room 555.
The elevator chimed softly as it reached the 55th floor. The doors slid open, revealing a quiet, dimly lit corridor. The brown haired man exhaled, rolling his cart forward, the soft hum of its wheels echoing against the sleek black floor.
The hallway lights carried a faint red undertone, reflecting the building's signature style. Futuristic, minimal, almost sterile. He checked the small digital tag on the wall, 555.
He pressed the doorbell beside the embedded key slot. A soft chime answered from inside, followed by a synthetic female voice. "Arisa, you have a visitor."
He adjusted his posture, straightened his jacket, and prepared himself. The stories about her were enough to make most men uneasy. Then the door slid open.
His eyes met her chest first, and stayed there for a second too long. The faint scent of clean water and warmth drifted from inside. When he finally looked up, he realized she was taller than him. Standing comfortably in short, black yoga shorts and a sports bra, her damp hair slightly messy from a shower.
"I thought you were gonna be scary," he said without thinking, an awkward grin spreading across his face.
Arisa's gaze was flat, unreadable. "That's easy to say when your eyes are focused on other things," she replied coolly.
He blinked and rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry about that," he admitted, pushing the cart forward a bit. "Wasn't expecting to see you dressed like that. My eyes kinda… did their own thing."
Arisa shook her head, tone casual. "Could be worse, I could be naked."
The man grinned, lowering his voice. "I wouldn't call that worse."
That got a soft, unexpected laugh from her. "Just hurry up with my stuff," she said, stepping aside.
He rolled the cart in, setting the bags neatly on the counter. Arisa followed, ignoring his attempts to stop her from helping. She grabbed one of the heavier bags with ease and placed it beside the others.
"Where or how do I pay you?" she asked as he turned the cart around.
"It'll charge automatically," he said. "Comes out of your account when you leave the building via Kleidi scan."
"Alright," she said, leaning casually against the wall. "What's your name?"
"Chris," he answered.
Arisa's expression shifted not in surprise, but in memory. Her eyes lowered slightly, a small smile flickering across her lips. "My first love was someone named Chris," she said quietly. The air hung still for a second, her tone carrying more weight than she intended.
Chris straightened up, clearing his throat as if to reset the atmosphere.
"Don't let that get your hopes up," Arisa said, her tone now teasing but edged with cold honesty. "Thanks, Chris."
She turned and walked away, her steps slow and calm as the door slid closed behind her. Chris stood for a second, eyes lingering on the door and maybe a little longer on her.
He let out a short nervous laugh, shaking his head. "Well, I wasn't expecting that."
As he pushed the cart back toward the elevator, he muttered to himself, "Shit… as long as she's cool with me, I'm fine."
The elevator doors closed, the quiet hum of the tower returning, leaving Room 555 in silence once again.
——
Arisa began unpacking the last of her groceries, placing each item neatly inside the sleek, glowing fridge. The soft hum of its cooling system was the only sound that filled the condo. She left out only what she needed. A rotisserie chicken, two apples, a zebra cake, and a bottle of water.
She ate standing by the counter, the quiet hum of the vents behind the walls blending with the faint sound of her movements. Each bite came slow and deliberate, letting her mind wander.
Minutes passed. The chicken was stripped clean to the bone. One of the apple cores rolled once before stopping near her plate. The zebra cake was gone, leaving only a crumpled wrapper.
She tossed it all into the hidden disposal built beneath the counter, one she'd only found after searching for a while. Then she turned on the faucet, washing her hands, the cold water running over her skin and down her forearms.
When she was done, she crossed the room to the raised platform where her bed sat. The soft red lights of the condo dimming with her steps.
"I got one last question for you, Abby," she said as she sat down, her tone quiet but direct. "What's the plan for later today?"
Abby's calm, synthesized voice filled the air around her. "Tomorrow, you are expected at the Academy for the C.F.R. briefing. You will be given a full overview of the program and introduced to the other candidates. During the session, each participant will be assigned to one of four operational teams, each consisting of three members."
Arisa leaned back, her hands supporting her as she listened. Her eyes drifted toward the ceiling. "Four groups…" she muttered, her voice low, tired but thoughtful.
Then, with a quiet exhale, she laid back completely, her body sinking into the soft black fabric of the bed. The faint vibration of the room's neon hum faded into the background. Her eyelids grew heavy as she let herself rest.
The room dimmed further, leaving only the soft trace of red light across her face. She closed her eyes, and the night finally went silent.
Chapter 12: Room 555
END