STARLIGHT UNBOUND by Deus Ex Machina - HTML preview

STARLIGHT UNBOUND

***

On her way to the gallery, Lyra stopped at a small coffee kiosk tucked between two tall, skyscrapers.

The vendor barely glanced at her as he handed over the drink —large, sweet, and creamy, the way she liked her morning treat. The first sip spread warmth through her, a brief comfort against the cold edges of the morning.

She took another sip, the sweetness fighting back against the bitterness sitting at the back of her throat. As she walked, the perfect rhythm of the city felt heightened, like it was holding its breath. Everything was so carefully orchestrated. It made her want to scream.

Pedestrians moved with clockwork efficiency, their faces blank, their steps measured. The city was dead. Lyra shook off the thought and kept walking, gripping the warm cup in her hands.

***

By late morning, she was at the gallery, her polished mask in place. The space was quieter now, the crowds of the previous night replaced by the subdued shuffling of staff members clearing away the remnants of the exhibition.

Lyra moved through the hall with practiced ease, her fitted blazer and minimalist black boots exuding the kind of effortless poise that AstroSYS valued. Her hair was tied into a neat ponytail, her makeup light but precise, giving her the appearance of someone aligned.

A curator approached near the entrance, his smile carefully measured. “Lyra. Magnificent work last night. Your painting was... striking, as always.”

Lyra returned the smile with equal precision, the edges soft but impersonal. “Thank you. I’m glad it resonated.”

“You have a rare gift for capturing chaos in a way that doesn’t disrupt. It’s... balanced, in its own way.”

Balanced. Of course. That’s all they see. All they want to see.

Her smile didn ’t falter, though something inside her twisted. Lyra had learned early on that it wasn’t about creating—it was about packaging. Give them enough chaos to feel daring, but not enough to scare them.

She exchanged a few more pleasantries before excusing herself, drifting toward the quieter corners of the gallery. The painting had already been taken down, replaced by a rotating holographic projection of a planetary alignment. Its orbits spun in perfect harmony, as though erasing the raw, chaotic energy

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