The notification hit YouTube in the middle of a snowy evening in Hokkaido.
「New Upload – Saeki Reina Official」
The thumbnail was deceptively plain: just Reina in her lab, hair tied back, lab coat draped over her uniform, eyes half-hidden behind her bangs. No flashy title cards. No dramatic cuts. Just her.
The video title read:「Uncut Prototype Development – Lens Interface」
The Video
Unlike her first two uploads, this one was raw.
It began with Reina hunched over her desk, tapping her pencil against a notebook. Her voice was soft, almost a mutter, as she flipped through pages of sketches. "...Too thick. Won't fit… Maybe if I move the wiring pocket here…"
She wasn't addressing the camera. She wasn't even thinking about an audience. This was a glimpse into her mind at work.
Hours condensed into minutes. Footage showed her testing different lenses, wincing in discomfort, muttering "no good" before tossing another failure aside. Then, with ANIER's calm voice chiming in, new blueprints came alive on her monitors.
The viewers saw everything from her perspective—the contact lens camera capturing her exact field of vision.
The moment the final prototype clicked into place, the screen came alive with a HUD overlay. Subtle numbers flickered at the edges. Menu bars hovered faintly like a video game interface. Then came the magic:
A glowing cube floated above her desk, rotating with each blink or head tilt. Then, a star map unfurled across her ceiling, constellations twinkling with perfect clarity. She circled the room, the projection moving seamlessly with her.
Finally, ANIER's voice introduced itself. Smooth. Intelligent. Almost… human.
By the end, Reina's soft laughter could be heard as she whispered:
"With this… everything will be easier."
No outro. No polish. Just a cut to black.
Rowan's Reaction
Dr. Rowan Halberg had been in his office, once again drowning in telemetry reports, when the notification hit his phone.
He didn't hesitate this time.
Click.
The video played in full screen across both his monitors.
At first, he expected something rough, maybe half-baked compared to her previous uploads. But as minutes passed, his pen slipped from his hand and clattered onto the desk.
The feed from her eye-lens was stunningly clear. Cleaner than most prototypes NASA had ever tested. The HUD wasn't clunky, either—it was elegant, intuitive, almost too natural.
"Jesus Christ…" he whispered, leaning closer.
Then the projections began.
The cube. The star map. The seamless integration of her lens, halo, and AI into a single system.
It wasn't just invention. It wasn't just innovation. It was artistry.
Rowan's mouth went dry as he muttered, "This isn't just a prototype. This is operational. Fully synchronized. My God, she's… she's making Stark Tech in her classroom lab."
He laughed then, a nervous, disbelieving laugh. His colleagues down the hall probably heard it.
By the time the video ended, Rowan was gripping his chair armrests, knuckles white.
"…She's not just ahead. She's in a different league altogether."
The Comments
The comment section exploded within minutes.
"Bro this is literally Iron Man but anime girl version."
"Uncut genius. Watching her fail, retry, and succeed—it feels real."
"The HUD?? The projections?? NASA better be watching."
"That AI… it's too natural. Did we just witness birth of AGI?"
"Her laugh at the end… this girl doesn't realize she just changed human-computer interaction forever."
One particular top comment stood out, pinned by Reina herself.
DrRowan – NASA
"I've spent my career studying aerospace interfaces. What you've achieved here is revolutionary. Thank you for sharing this with the world."
Underneath, tens of thousands of likes.
And Reina's quiet reply:❤️
Rowan Again
Back in his office, Rowan refreshed the page obsessively, hoping she'd say more.
But no reply came. Just the heart. Just the pin.
Still, it was enough.
Because that small acknowledgement meant one thing: she had seen his words.
And maybe—just maybe—she knew she wasn't working alone in the dark anymore.