Episode 2 – A Day Called CssIn the heart of the Seoul Pnt stood a tall, cylindrical building: the Education Center. Rising eleven floors above ground and extending two floors below, it was one of the few independent structures in the entire city-state. Every citizen passed through this pce as part of a ten-year educational journey that marked their official integration into society.

  Each grade level was assigned to a single floor, starting from the 11th floor for first-years. Each year, students would descend one level, symbolically moving closer to the ground. Reaching the 1st floor marked more than graduation—it meant you were finally ready to step into the world as a full member of the Pnt.

  The 1st floor served as a shared lobby and administrative area, complete with faculty offices, student clubs, cafeterias, and leisure zones. While undercssmen had little use for it, senior students found themselves increasingly familiar with the space. The first basement was connected to the Pnt’s subway line, and combined with moving walkways and automated shuttles, it allowed seamless transit throughout the district.

  The second basement, known as the Eden Secure Zone, extended far deeper. Built as a contingency facility, it was capable of sheltering the entire Pnt popution in case of rge-scale emergencies.

  Inside the Education Center, each grade had one rge cssroom per floor. A circur yout pced the instructor at the center, while students sat around them in concentric arcs. Distance issues were compensated by AR systems: smart lenses and neural connectors rendered the teacher’s voice and presence equally clear, no matter the seat.

  On this particur morning, the school moved as always—orderly and precise. All except one cssroom.

  8:35 AM. Css should have started five minutes ago, but Officer Im Yeon stood on the podium, arms crossed, staring at the door. The room was silent but buzzing with tension.

  “How many times is it now?” a student whispered.

  “Today’s the hundredth.”

  “No way. That’s... kind of legendary.”

  A few murmurs spread through the cssroom, only to be silenced by a gnce from Officer Im. Then the door slid open. Tousled hair, hurried steps—Lee Han walked in, trying to appear unnoticed.

  He quietly made his way to his seat and began prepping his smart lens for css. Just as he was getting settled, the AR dispy activated. Officer Im’s face appeared before him.

  “Lee Han. Late again.”

  “…I’m sorry.”

  He bowed his head deeply.

  “What’s your excuse today?”

  “…The weather was nice.”

  An awkward silence. A couple of students tried—and failed—to suppress their ughter.

  Im Yeon exhaled quietly.

  “Take your seat. Let’s begin.”

  Surprised but relieved, Han quickly sat down. As he turned to get ready, his gaze met a familiar presence beside him—Jo Anna.

  Jet-bck hair, blue eyes—her features a striking blend of her Korean and American ancestry. She had settled in the Seoul Pnt after the Great Relocation and shared the same academic track as Han.

  But unlike him, she had never been te. Not even once.

  She was the one who’d taught him to love the outside world—the whisper of the wind, the subtle hues of the morning sky. She lived by the same daily ritual as he did, but always managed to arrive on time.

  “Was it the sky again?”

  “Yeah. It was incredible today. I wish you’d seen it.”

  “That makes a hundred times now. Congratutions.”

  “Hah. Maybe I’m just that amazing.”

  Their small, quiet ughter carried a sense of ease—two people sharing the rhythm of life.

  “Focus, Lee Han. Jo Anna.”

  “Yes, ma’am!”

  [This lesson ends at—]

  [Got it.]

  The two quickly exchanged gnces and fell silent. But just before returning to focus, Han saw Officer Im again. The emotion in her eyes was unmistakable.

  Pity.

  Today’s css was "Designing Real-Time Asteroid Mining Algorithms." After a brief AR theory lecture, students activated their neural connectors and entered the simution environment. The system was linked in real-time to actual data from orbital mining stations near the asteroid belt, providing an authentic training experience.

  The technology had evolved from the old Life project. What had once been experimental now served as a standard educational tool—complete with up-to-date sync with active mining facilities.

  The simution loaded. Before Han’s eyes stretched the vast emptiness of space, filled with slowly tumbling asteroids. Students were paired up to analyze assigned targets and fine-tune their extraction strategies.

  Jo Anna’s fingers danced confidently across her controls. Han, still distracted, gged behind.

  “You starting or what?” she asked.

  “Ah—sorry. I’m on it.”

  He began analyzing the assigned asteroid: resource composition, rotation period, surface temperature. With Jo Anna assisting, they quickly reached an optimized algorithm—but the improvement margin was slim.

  “Any point in tweaking this more?” he muttered.

  “We’re near the limit. Any further and we risk damaging the drill units.”

  “Rea, if we apply our modified algorithm, how much does efficiency go up?”

  [Estimated increase: 0.92%.]

  “Let’s go ahead, then.”

  [Modification applied.]

  Jo Anna smiled.

  “Confirmed. 0.92% efficiency boost.”

  “Stability improved by 1.7 points, too.”

  As their simution wrapped up, Officer Im’s voice echoed across the shared network.

  “Everyone, replicate your algorithm across three additional asteroid clusters. Begin curve analysis after stabilization.”

  Students returned to work. Graphs fluctuated. Numbers streamed past. Simutions unfolded in every direction.

  But Lee Han moved a beat slower.

  He couldn’t stop thinking about that look on Im Yeon’s face.

  ‘Why did she look at me like that…?’

  It had started as a good day.

  But now, something felt heavy in his chest.