Crossing Orb: Newtype Commander

Deep in the wine cellar

Orb, the Sahak family mansion. At 11 p.m., Mina invited Char to the Sahak family's wine cellar. This was not a social wine tasting, but a private gathering for just the two of them. The wine cellar was three floors underground, with a constant temperature and humidity, dark granite walls, and thousands of bottles of red wine neatly arranged on the shelves—the Sahak family's collection spanning generations.

Mina wore a deep purple dress, her long hair flowing freely, and she wore no makeup. She knelt before the wine rack, her fingers slowly gliding over the dusty bottles, until she selected a vintage Bordeaux. Pulling out the cork, the deep red liquid poured into the decanter, refracting a jewel-like luster under the light.

"This was left to me by my father." Her voice was soft. "Before he passed away, he said that this bottle of wine should only be opened at a special moment."

"Is this a special moment?" Char asked.

Mina was silent for a moment, then placed the decanter on the table and sat down opposite him. "Maybe. Maybe not. But I don't want to wait any longer."

She poured two glasses of wine and pushed one towards him. Xia took the glass but didn't drink it, waiting for her to continue. His intuition told him that the wine wasn't the point tonight; the point was what she was going to say.

"Do you know why the Sahak family is one of the five great families of Orb?" Mina held her wine glass, but didn't drink; she just stared at the deep red liquid inside.

"Because of wealth and power."

"No, because—we collaborated with Earth to conduct Coordinator genetic experiments." Her voice was calm, but her knuckles, gripping the wine glass tightly, turned white. "That was when Coordinator technology had just emerged. PLANT hadn't been established yet, and Coordinators were seen as either 'the hope for human evolution' or 'monsters defying nature.' Various countries were secretly researching Coordinator technology, intending to use it for military purposes. The Sahak family was also involved, conducting experiments on living people."

Char's pupils contracted slightly, but he didn't speak, only listening quietly.

Mina's voice echoed in the empty cellar: "They inject the Coordinator's genes into the embryos of natural humans and observe the development process; they conduct gene splicing tests on living individuals to study which modifications are feasible and which will lead to deformities or death; after the Coordinators reach adulthood, they continue to conduct physical and psychological 'evaluations,' which are actually inhumane torture. Many people died. Some survived, but suffered mental breakdowns. A few succeeded—they were sent to the Earth Federation's military facilities and have disappeared ever since."

She put down her glass and placed her hands, folded, on the table. "I know this is disgusting. But I want you to know the truth. I don't want to hide anything from you."

Xia looked at her. Her red eyes were moist, but she didn't cry. She tried hard to maintain her composure and not let her voice tremble. She was the head of the Sahak family and had been taught from a young age "not to shed tears in front of others." Even in her most vulnerable moments, she had to maintain that coldness.

"Mina." Xia reached out and took her hand, which was resting on the table. "We can't change the past. But you chose to change it. That's enough."

"I'm not trying to excuse myself. I just..."

"I know, so I won't."

Mina looked up at him, her deep red eyes calm, not indifferent, but with a deeper understanding. He had witnessed too much darkness: the deaths of tens of thousands on Junius VII, the girl beaten to death in Oceania, the child he held in his arms during the Atlantic Federation terrorist attack—none of this darkness had made him close his eyes. Because closing his eyes meant giving up the possibility of change.

Moonlight streamed through the small window of the wine cellar, casting a silvery-white band on the table. The cellar was quiet, save for the occasional soft rattling of corks expanding and contracting from the heat. Mina's hand trembled slightly in his palm.

"Don't you hate me?" she asked.

"What do I hate about you? Do I hate that you told me the truth? Do I hate that you wanted to atone for your sins? Or do I hate that you did what you thought was necessary for Orb? Hate is too cheap. Salvation is much harder than destruction."

Mina's eyes finally welled up with tears, which silently slid down her cheeks. There was no wailing, no extra sound, just quiet weeping.

Xia released her hand, stood up, walked to her side, and gently embraced her. Mina rested her head against his chest, still silent. Tears soaked his shirt, warm and damp. He gently patted her back, as if comforting a child having a nightmare.

The cellar lights cast a warm yellow glow on them, while the ancient wine racks silently witnessed the moment.

After what seemed like an eternity, Mina's tears finally stopped. She pulled away from his embrace, wiped her face with the back of her hand, and looked somewhat embarrassed. "...I'm sorry you had to see this."

Xia shook his head, pulled a tissue from the table, and handed it to him. "Everyone cries sometimes. Politicians are no exception."

Mina took the tissue, wiped away her tears, and took a deep breath. Her emotions were quickly brought back into control, as if the woman who had just been crying was merely an illusion. But her eyes were still red, silently proving that it had all been real.

"This intelligence," Mina's voice regained its calm, "is all compiled in this folder, detailing the dark history of the Sahak family. It includes the list of scientists involved in the experiments, the identities of the victims, and the code names of the Earth Alliance military organizations. I think... I should give it to the Dawn Society's research team. Perhaps we can find a treatment for the Coordinator's genetic disease from this data. Maybe not, but we should at least try."

Char took the folder and flipped through a few pages. The densely packed data, each name representing a life. "I'll give it to Erica. She'll arrange for the right people to handle it. Also, regarding the experiments the Sahak family participated in, if there are any surviving victims or their families, Orb should provide compensation. Not charity, but restitution."

Mina nodded. "The budget will come from the Sahak family's private account. No government funds will be used."

"it is good."

The two fell silent. The cellar lights cast long shadows on them, and dust from the wine racks drifted slowly in the beams of light.

"Char," Mina whispered, "Will you always be by my side?"

Xia looked at her, his usual coldness gone, replaced by a fragile, almost pleading light in his red eyes. "Yes. Not as a political ally—as a friend. A much closer kind of friend."

Mina lowered her head, a slight smile appearing on her lips. It wasn't a politician's formulaic smile, but a genuine, heartfelt one. "Thank you."

Late at night, Char returned to his office at the Dawn Society and sat down at his desk, rubbing his temples. Too much had happened tonight—Mina's confession, the dark history of the Sahak family, the qualitative change in their relationship. But there was something even more troubling—Erica Simmons.

He recalled the forty-seven days and nights he had spent by her bedside. She held his hand and said, "I love him," and he heard it, even though she said it without knowing she would wake up. He had never brought it up, but "hearing" and "forgetting" are two different things.

"VEDA," he whispered, "I've run into a problem."

Please explain.

"How can one person handle the feelings for two women? One is a technical partner with whom I've worked for eight years, who stayed by my bedside for forty-seven days. The other is a political ally of many years, who shed tears in front of me for the first time tonight. Both are important, but I don't want to hurt either of them."

VEDA remained silent for three seconds, which is almost an eternity in the reaction speed of an AI.

"This is beyond my expertise. I suggest you consult a specialist in human emotions."

"It's no use." Xia smiled bitterly. "Human emotional problems can only be solved by humans themselves."

He stood up and walked to the window. The night view of Orb stretched out below him, a myriad of lights. Among those lights were Erica's lit office and Mina's lit bedroom. Two women, two emotions, two completely different bonds.

"Let's take it one step at a time," he told himself.

Outside the window, the elevator cable swayed gently in the night. November 25, CE70, a long day had finally come to an end. But those tangled and complicated relationships were only just beginning.

The next morning, Mina watched the sunrise from her balcony, a glass of sake instead of red wine in her hand. The memory of last night was vivid, every detail clear—the confessions, the tears, the embrace, his words, "Yes, not as political allies, but as friends, the closer kind of friends."

She looked down at the sake in her glass—clear and transparent, slightly sweet at first, then spicy. Life's flavors are never simple. Mina downed the sake in one gulp.

"Miss, breakfast is ready," the butler's voice came from behind.

"I don't want to eat today." Mina didn't turn around. "Pour me another glass of wine."

The butler hesitated for a moment, but did as he was told, pouring warm sake into a glass. Mina held the glass, gazing at the distant dawn. Erica Simmons—she knew of that woman's existence, the woman who had stayed by Char's bedside for forty-seven days.

She also knew that Char had heard the words "I like him"—because the way Char looked at Erika after waking up was different from before, with something indescribable in it.

Mina wasn't a jealous woman. She was taught from a young age that "relationships are a luxury, and politicians don't need them." But at this moment, she did feel a pang of bitterness—not jealousy, but more like the regret of "if only I had said it sooner."

"But," she whispered, "I said it."

Although she didn't say "I like you," she asked, "Will you always be by my side?" and he answered, "Yes." It wasn't a promise of political alliance, but a more private, more personal one. That was enough, at least for now.

In the last few days of November in CE70, Char began to deliberately avoid being alone with Erika. It wasn't because he didn't care about her, but because he needed time to sort out his feelings. Erika noticed, but didn't press the issue. She simply left a cup of hot coffee outside his office door, without leaving a note, and then quietly left.

Char stood by the window, holding the cup of coffee.

"VEDA, send a message to Erika Simmons."

"content?"

"Thank you."

"That's all?"

That's all.

Some things don't need to be said too much. In November CE70, Mina's tears melted the ice that had stood for years, and Erica's coffee slowly cooled on her desk.

The relationship between the three people is like three rivers converging at the same estuary. Waves roll, and undercurrents surge beneath the surface. But at least for now, they can still flow together towards the sea.