Blindy froze mid-breath.
He stared at the stage—
like he was seeing beauty for the first time in his life…
and it punched him in the face.
“Ze—Zeros… b-buddy…”
He leaned forward, mouth hanging open so wide
a full-sized p’ksaa bug could fly straight in—
one of those nasty things that instinctively looks for the dumbest, dirtiest places
to build a nest and drop two thousand screaming larvae.
“Wha—what is this?..”
He didn’t blink.
“You know I prefer girls—
you know that—
but—listen—hold on—”
He pointed at the stage with a shaking finger.
“This guy is… he’s… he’s—”
He swallowed hard.
“Oh saint deGrasse… he looks like—like an angel…
Just—just… beautiful.
Like—divine…”
He sucked in a sharp breath.
“…Am I… am I really saying that about another dude?..”
He turned, panic rising.
“Zeros.
Fuck.
What’s happening to me?!
Am I—am I falling in love or somethin’?!
It can’t be—right?”
Zeros didn’t even look up.
His voice—flat, tired, completely unimpressed:
“You’re a soulless piece of shit named Jody fucking Meadow.
This is called art.
Not ‘fucking love.'”
He lazily traced a finger through the air.
“You know, normal degenerates think with:
their head,
their heart,
their ass,
and sometimes their dick.But you? Piece of stinky shit,
you ALWAYS think with your cock.
And when it’s not your cock—then it’s your ASS.”
Zeros kept scanning the crowd, evaluating threat levels, calculating trajectories, identifying five most likely security breaches. Then he pointed toward the backstage entrance.
“And y’know what? I don’t give a fuck,” he said flatly, then added,
“Shut up. Just shut the fuck up and move your ass.”
Soon they were backstage, at the entrance to the dressing room.
Blindy was soaked like a rag pulled out of a bucket.
Zeros’ metal hand shoved him forward like a broken mop.
“Y—you… dick-droid… you talk…” Blindy rasped, clutching his chest. “I can’t—he’s—he’s just—”
He gestured vaguely, like language had abandoned him.
“He’s too… I don’t—my lungs forgot how to work—”
He wheezed.
“You talk. Please. I’m dyin’ here…”
Zeros looked at him like he had just discovered a new level of human degradation.
“Blindy… shit. Jody. Just breathe.
I get it. You’ve never seen anything in your life besides the trash shithole of your planet.And you act like livestock.
Even I’m starting to feel embarrassed.And I don’t HAVE emotions.
Try stepping outside your pile of rotten meat once in a while.Expand your fucking horizon, you filthy face.”
They walked in.
Fabio sat at a mirror framed with lights—
like some kind of theatrical altar.
He raised his head.
A silk violet robe with ruffles barely clung to his broad shoulders,
exposing half his chest—thick, well-groomed, the kind you could braid if you wanted to.
His dark hair, tied back with an elastic band,
blended with the shadows of the lamps.
And deeper—
his eyes.
Confident. Focused.
The eyes of someone used to being the center of gravity in any room.
Golden slippers lay on the floor like he hadn’t taken them off—
he’d thrown them aside
so they wouldn’t interfere with the art.
And when he spoke…
…it wasn’t a velvet tenor.
It was a rough, smoker’s bass—like a welding guy from an orbital station
with a space tractor backstage and three c-bux to his name.
“Ciao. I’m Fabio.
So you’re the ones…”
His gaze slid over Blindy—
who was losing moisture faster than sanity.
“Shiori?.. and…”
His eyes lifted higher, met Zeros, paused—
like his brain refused to process the data.
“… and Airi?!..”
He froze for a second. He wasn’t the type to judge by appearances—
just mentally went, vabbè, fanculo, and stood up.
And with him—
it felt like the whole room stood up too.
“Va bene, ragazzi. Listen up…
…muovi il culo, Haumea.That’s where the base is…
Uno—go in.
Due—kill Nobuhiro Kanzaki.
Tre—get the hell out.Quattro—haul your asses to the orbital station—
the one spinning around the oldest cosmico cazzo in the whole fucking universe—PSR B1620−26 b.Cinque—grab the data. All of it. Every last piece of secret shit.
They’re not even connected to CosmoNet™.
Poroniki… what do you expect?Everything’s offline. Physical drives.
Like they’re stuck in the 21st century.Sei—get out.
Sette—get drunk somewhere shitty…
and forget this ever happened.”
He cracked his fingers like he was firing a shotgun.
“If you fuck this up—
go, andare a farti fottere straight to Andromeda.Because if they catch you—
they won’t just kill you.
They’ll erase you.Even a quantum microscope
won’t find shit.Capito?”
Blindy trembled. Hard to tell if it was from “love”…
or pure terror.
“Here’s the data. Ora, vattene a fanculo. I’m busy.”
He handed over a holo-tablet.
Zeros took it like a receipt.
Gave a short nod—
like it meant nothing.
Then grabbed Blindy by the collar with one hand
and dragged him out like a sack of potatoes.
When the door closed behind them,
Fabio ran a tired hand across his face and muttered:
“O grazioso Apollo…
And those due stronzi…
that’s the legendary Shiori and her ship-spirit, Airi?.. Gods of ballet, bless my ass…
we’re all fottutamente presto dead…”