The sterile white of Tanaka's private medical suite contrasted sharply with the darkness consuming his thoughts. He stood before a floor to ceiling window overlooking Tokyo's glittering skyline, but his eyes were fixed on the reflection of the hospital bed behind him. His daughter, Yuko, lay submerged in the gentle blue glow of a stasis field, her small form connected to a web of tubes and monitors. The doctors' prognosis echoed in his mind. Six months, maybe less. The cellular degradation is accelerating.
A soft chime announced a visitor. Professor Sato entered, his face pale, hands trembling slightly as he clutched a data tablet. You requested me, Tanaka sama?
Tanaka didn't turn from the window. The American delegation arrives tomorrow. Mitchell and her... associates. His voice was dangerously calm. They will have questions about the energy signatures. About Azar.
Sato swallowed hard. The data we've provided should...
Should is not enough, Tanaka interrupted, finally turning. His eyes were hollow, the eyes of a man who hadn't slept in days. I need certainty, Kenji. I need control. Yuko's treatment... it requires resources only our international... partners can provide.
On the tablet screen, medical charts showed Yuko's deteriorating condition. A rare mitochondrial disease that conventional medicine couldn't touch. But beneath those charts, Sato knew, lay another layer. Research into cellular regeneration using cosmic energy patterns, the very energy that radiated from Azar.
You're using the international interest in Azar to fund research for your daughter, Sato realized aloud, his voice barely a whisper.
Tanaka's smile was thin, sharp. I'm ensuring humanity's future, Kenji. And if my daughter happens to benefit from that research... is that so wrong?
Across the city, in the safe house Azar had secured, Elyra watched the cosmic being with growing concern. He stood motionless in the center of the room, his starmarked skin pulsing with a faint, rhythmic light.
The strings tighten, Azar said without opening his eyes. The man Tanaka... his motivations are not what they appear.
Elyra approached him slowly. What do you mean?
He grieves, Azar said, his voice distant. A deep, cellular grief that resonates through time. He seeks to rewrite reality itself, not for power, but to correct a single, terrible mistake.
The death of his wife, Elyra murmured, remembering the files she'd accessed. She died in a research accident when Yuko was just a baby.
Azar's eyes opened, and they held a sadness so profound it made Elyra's breath catch. Death is not the mistake he seeks to correct. It is his choice that haunts him. The choice to prioritize work over being at her bedside in her final moments.
The revelation struck Elyra with unexpected force. Tanaka wasn't just a power hungry bureaucrat. He was a grieving husband and father, trying to undo his greatest regret through any means necessary.
The next morning, in a secure conference room deep within the JAXA headquarters, Sarah Mitchell of the United States Intelligence Community faced Tanaka across a polished table. Flanking her were two formidable figures. Dimitri Orlov, a former Spetsnaz commander with cold blue eyes and a reputation for getting results, and General Zhang Wei of the Chinese Strategic Support Force.
The satellite disruptions were just the beginning, Mitchell stated, her gaze fixed on Tanaka. We know you have the source of these energy anomalies. The question is, what do you intend to do with it?
Tanaka remained impeccably composed. Japan is conducting peaceful research into cosmic phenomena, as allowed under international space treaties.
Orlov leaned forward, his massive frame making the chair creak. Do not insult our intelligence, Tanaka san. We have tracked the energy signatures to a specific location. We know about the... entity.
Before Tanaka could respond, the doors slid open to reveal Professor Sato, his face ashen. Forgive the interruption, but there's been an... incident at the research facility.
As they rushed to the monitoring station, screens showed Azar standing in the middle of a containment field, his form flickering between human and something vastly more ancient. Around him, the very air shimmered with distorted physics.
He's trying to communicate with something, Sato whispered. Or someone.
Azar's voice echoed through the speakers, layered with harmonics that shouldn't be possible. The children of the void approach. They have heard the song of this world, and they are curious.
That evening, in a private suite overlooking Tokyo Bay, Tanaka met with Orlov away from American and Chinese ears.
Your government has interests that align with ours, Tanaka said, pouring two glasses of whiskey.
Orlov accepted the glass but didn't drink. Russia understands the value of... unconventional assets. But we also understand the danger. This being of yours, it is not a tool to be wielded. It is a force of nature.
And nature can be directed, Tanaka countered. Controlled. With the right... incentives.
He slid a data chip across the table. Research on cellular regeneration using cosmic energy patterns. Your government has patients who could benefit, yes? Veterans from the Siberian conflicts? Children born near the old radiation zones?
Orlov's eyes narrowed. What do you want in return?
Leverage, Tanaka said simply. The Americans have their military might. The Chinese have their economic power. I need something they cannot easily counter.
Late that night, Tanaka found Professor Sato in his laboratory, staring at a holographic model of Yuko's DNA sequence.
The Americans are suspicious, Tanaka said without preamble. The Chinese are planning their own move. I need results, Kenji. Not theories. Not possibilities. Results.
Sato turned, his eyes red rimmed from exhaustion and stress. You're asking me to accelerate research that could have catastrophic consequences. We don't understand Azar's energy, not really. We're children playing with stellar fire.
Then perhaps it's time we grew up, Tanaka said coldly. Yuko doesn't have time for our caution. The world doesn't have time for our hesitation.
He placed a hand on Sato's shoulder, and for a moment, the mask of the ruthless bureaucrat slipped, revealing the desperate father beneath. Please, Kenji. Help me save my daughter. Help me make right what I made wrong.
As Tanaka left the laboratory, Sato looked from the DNA model to the security feeds showing Azar in his containment field, then to the photo of his own family on his desk. The strings were indeed tightening, and he realized with dawning horror that he had become one of the puppets in Tanaka's dangerous game, a game where the stakes were not just their lives, but potentially the entire world.