一人乗り用に設計された小型宇宙船が、死の淵に立たされた惑星に降り立った。周囲は空虚で、生命も動きもなく、ただ果てしない静寂が空気を満たしていた。
「……目標確認。回収開始」と、若い男がかすかな声で呟いた。彼は電子ゴーグルを装着し、水色の髪の下に広がる海のような青い瞳は、どこか脆い印象を与えていた。彼は指先でゴーグルの縁を軽く叩き、視界に映し出された数値をスキャンした。密度、形状、重量。これらはすべて特殊レンズを通して測定された。
気密保護のために作られた体にフィットするスーツを着て、その上に実用性を重視したジャケットを着ており、袖には組織の紋章「コスモス?レコン」が見えていた。
— 銀河の外縁部では、星の消滅がますます頻繁に起こるようになっていた。その原因は「遺物」、つまり未知の力を持つ謎の遺物にあると考えられていた。これらの遺物は、安定しているときは主星の繁栄を促し、不安定になると星の崩壊を招いた。
これらの遺物の監視を任されていたのは、コスモス?レコン（正式名称は宇宙遺物管理局）でした。彼らの任務は、これらの不安定な物体の調査から回収、そして封じ込めまで多岐にわたりました。
その青年の名はラリ?アーク。25歳にして既にエリートエージェントとして頭角を現し、幼少期から「調和」と「癒し」の才能を買われて採用されていた。豊かな自然に恵まれながらも、科学的にはいずれ滅亡すると予測されていた水に恵まれた惑星アクアリスに生まれたラリは、惑星の希望という重荷を背負っていた。
「回収完了」とラリは静かに報告した。この任務中、彼は物理的には一人だったが、右耳に装着した通信機器を通じて本部との接続を維持していたため、口頭での確認は必須だった。
The relic he had secured resembled a mineral chunk, unsuitable for direct handling.Using a "cyber box," a specialized containment device, he brought it close — triggering the box to automatically absorb and seal the relic inside.
"......"
Without altering his expression, Lari tilted his head upward, gazing into the void.The pnet would soon perish — not something that filled him with sorrow, but perhaps, somewhere deep inside, a small void echoed.
Without further hesitation, he returned to his spacecraft, silently leaving the dying world
Returning to the orbital station Seleccion, the base of operations for Cosmos Recon, Lari completed the standard protocol: submitting his mission report and the secured relic.
Afterward, he wandered toward the cafeteria.
The cafeteria was spacious, with high ceilings and walls entirely made of gss, offering an unobstructed view of countless sparkling stars beyond.Suspended from the ceiling at the far end were three rge screens, dispying news, entertainment, and other information for those dining below.
"Hey, Lari. You're back early today,"someone called out casually.
"…It's just the usual,"Lari replied without much emotion.
"You went solo again this time, right? Must be tough.""It's normal,"he answered simply.
"...Tch, you're as unfriendly as ever. We joined at the same time, you know—"
Before the conversation could continue, a wave of noise rippled through the cafeteria.
Everyone's attention turned to the rge screens where a news fsh had appeared.
Breaking news: The pnet Quorza, long considered at risk, has just been confirmed as lost.This footage was captured by an agent near the site.Several investigators dispatched to Quorza are currently missing and presumed caught in the pnet’s destruction.Experts believe the cause was a runaway crystal core at the pnet’s heart, and the rapid colpse has far exceeded previous predictions, raising new concerns for the future—
"...No way. That was way faster than expected…""My brother was part of that investigation team! Does anyone have more info?!""That’s the third star this year... It’s getting worse."
Onscreen, they watched Quorza break apart.Cracks spread slowly across its surface, releasing an eerie blue-white light.Then, as if the very fabric of space itself trembled, the pnet disintegrated — silently, almost beautifully.
One woman gasped, clutching her communicator tightly before rushing out of the cafeteria, others following behind her.An older agent, likely with memories of past missions to Quorza, shook his head solemnly.
Even the coworker who had spoken to Lari earlier now stood frozen, overwhelmed by the shock.
As for Lari himself—
(Beautiful…A star colpsing, not in an explosion, but quietly shining as it fades away… this is the first time I've seen such a thing.)
That was the only thought that crossed his mind.Lari, who rarely dispyed emotional fluctuation — be it joy, anger, or sorrow — simply observed the scene with detached wonder.
He had no real "friends" among the station’s inhabitants.Though some colleagues approached him out of curiosity, they often left muttering about having "wasted their time."
Even so, this moment stirred something unusual within him: a genuine sense of beauty.
Why did this vision captivate him so much?Even Lari himself couldn’t answer that.
Letting out a soft sigh,Lari turned away from the cafeteria.He wasn’t particurly moved to eat here now — but leaving on an empty stomach wasn’t ideal either.He retrieved a ration pack from the dispenser and quietly exited.
Even outside the cafeteria, the atmosphere remained heavy — a mix of anxiety, sorrow, and muted panic.Some were openly crying, likely having friends or family involved in the Quorza mission.
The disappearance of a star within such a short timeframe was, by all accounts, an anomaly.
(Even Quorza was supposed to hold for another year, at least.That’s why they sent a survey team — they thought it was safe enough.I hope those who went out there make it back…)
It wasn't that Lari didn’t care about his colleagues.He felt concern, a genuine emotional response stirring somewhere deep inside him.But he simply didn’t express it outwardly — a conscious choice.
Because it was tiring.Because it was troublesome.
If reduced to words, his detachment sounded almost heartless.He was aware of that — and yet, he couldn't change it.
"You’re like a machine,"someone had once said to him.Another coworker, after a shared mission, had muttered:"I’d rather work with a humanoid than with him."
Such remarks had gradually shaped Lari’s preferences.He began requesting solo missions whenever possible.
Though superiors occasionally reminded him to "improve his communication skills,"they couldn't deny his fwless mission record — so no real penalties ever followed.
Even Lari himself knew:He wasn’t likely to change.
「……少し休むべきだ」と彼は独り言を言った。
ラリは食料パックを手にしたまま廊下を進み、駅の居住区がある区画へと姿を消した。
