On Xea's first night, a brief rain wet the parched lands of Cyprus and cleaned its cities. Various faces, some dark, some anxious, withdrew from the scene, and the streets breathed briefly. At least this was true for the world above ground. The underground world was much more alive, much more colorful, but also much more dangerous. However, none of this had anything to do with Xea's eccentric world. Xea's feelings were indescribable; her feelings could never be the same as those of a human born from a womb under any circumstances. This wasn't because she was an android or robot. Though she had been born in a strange way, she was ultimately completely human. In fact, she was much more human compared to the soldier Heralga, who had replaced his organic limbs with powerful prosthetics and attachments.

The incomprehensibility of her feelings came from the fact that other humans could never feel the same things in any way. She knew nothingness, had become accustomed to nothingness, and had filled nothingness with her existence. Everything was related to her. But she had never seen herself. When isolated from the physical environment, she hadn't even thought about what she looked like. The first mirror she saw had revealed her existence to herself—an existence she couldn't intervene in. She knew this was herself, but she couldn't digest that her own existence was such a thing. She felt as if she could directly intervene in her own existence, without needing any external intervention.

Now she saw her skinny, frail, pale, and feminine body in the mirror. She couldn't separate from this, couldn't break away, couldn't reshape it. When this strange being ceased to exist, she too would cease to exist. This was imprisonment. And the most painful form of imprisonment at that. If she had been locked in a room, she could have transformed that room into her own brilliant universe. But now...? She was subject to the limitations of the material realm. The ridiculous part was that she had always belonged to this body, lived in this body, but wasn't aware of it. Her birth was awareness, and awareness had brought the tremendous captivity of her existence.

She was tired. One of the pieces of knowledge that appeared in her mental field—though she didn't know where she had learned it—was that she needed to sleep. She had never slept until now; her brain had imitated sleep many times, but she had never truly slept. She lay down on the bed, spread herself on the cotton, and her eyes closed within a few short minutes. Now she had lost the only thing she possessed: control. Everything swayed like an earthquake at first. She realized she couldn't move, but to no avail. Her brain produced jumbled, meaningless scenes like a radio stuck between random frequencies. Time flowed, scenes flowed, and then everything became truly more real. This time, although everything was still meaningless, it seemed meaningful to her.

In her first dream, Xea saw disembodied people she couldn't tell where they came from, approaching on a rail. They carried no joy, emotion, or selfhood. They were like products coming out of a factory, but no... They were much more noble. They were noble people forming the working parts of a sacred machine. They were purified. They had been able to escape from the prison Xea had fallen into.

She looked at where the rails led. She saw darkness and slaughter. The noble people transported there by rails were being killed barbarously by people with barbaric feelings. These barbarians possessed every kind of base characteristic that makes humans human. They too were free, but their freedom was a freedom based on intuitions and feelings. Or, in another interpretation, they were captives to their feelings and intuitions. They could never establish a system, could never serve, and therefore could never be elevated under any circumstances.

From among the barbarians came a sapphire-colored woman, gliding toward her. When compared to Xea, they were very different. Xea's own beauty consisted of a still and motionless beauty; this woman's beauty carried the aesthetics of vitality.

"I am the Dark Angel, the queen of wars, hatreds, and conflicts in this world. You are the angel of that light. Darkness is permanent and continuous. But light ultimately goes out. I represent the power that comes naturally. You belong to entropy. I make light into light, but you scatter it in darkness, and when your power runs out, you cease to exist."

This wasn't a hostile statement; Xea felt this. This was mentioning death. She couldn't deny it; her own hourglass had now been turned upside down.

She woke up.

After that impressive dream, she was still inside the same body. Her image in the mirror still hadn't changed. According to her own psychic laws, it should have changed. For a while, she examined herself in the mirror with the grogginess that sleep had given her. Meanwhile, a few small chimes reached her ears.

Breakfast sounds...

Watching the Chinese rose in the beam extending from the gap in the curtain, she thought for a while. Her dream... It had been truly beautiful. In the first moment she lost control, things she hadn't allowed to seep into her soul had also seeped in. Daylight... "Now the age of the sun has begun," she murmured to herself. She said this while surrendering herself to the sun's beam...

At that moment, she thought she could shape herself in a more abstract way. For example... She could take names like other people. "Heralga" was a nickname that "Heralga" used to remain unrecognized in wars, which then stuck to him. His real name was Göksel Berke İncirli. People called him Göksel. So why should she carry a meaningless name determined by some algorithm? Influenced by her dream, she made a decision: she would introduce herself as Melek (Angel).

Perhaps people couldn't shape her form, but they presented each other with an abstract object shaped by identity and personality. This would be her abstract object too. She was an angel composed of a beam adorned with a Chinese rose.

She went down to breakfast. She said she would now call Heralga by his name, not as Heralga. Then she added:

"And call me Melek." "Where did that come from?"

She was afraid she couldn't explain this. She had expected Heralga to have already understood this. She was both surprised and disappointed.

"Isn't it a beautiful name?" "Of course it's beautiful... It was my mother's name." "What a coincidence..." "Now..."

Heralga took a deep breath and examined the girl. The name Melek evoked very suspicious things in him. Stroking his goatee, he looked at the table for a while. Should he explain everything from the beginning? Everything was confusingly complicated, and he decided it was too early for this. However, he still had to explain some things to this girl from a bird's-eye view.

"Melek... I have things to tell you. Your existence has meaning, and your being in Ortaköy is therefore a great danger. You came at a completely unexpected moment, and this situation wasn't in my calculations."

Xea nodded.

"I mean, Melek... Everything is so interconnected that... I think you'll get tired while understanding this. For example, you can know this... We are Karagül. Karagül is the name of our organization. We are Anarchists, and together with those in the south, we govern the island. There are some who are hostile to us; they too have their own understanding of order, but this is a religious hierarchy."

Xea turned her gaze to the ornate legs of the table. She nodded.

"These people want to capture you. And in Ortaköy, that is, around here, they have spies. They will destroy you. Even if they can't succeed, they'll want to destroy you mentally. And I must protect you."

The girl's eyes widened and her lips trembled.

"Really?" "Really. I want to take you underground to hide you. You'll live there for a while, then when we're sure these areas are safe, I'll get you the most beautiful place in Lefkoşa."

Xea accepted this. What could she refuse anyway? A man was saying he would protect her, and she had no choice but to believe. But still, despite these seemingly wise words, she couldn't suppress her curiosity. Looking into the man's eyes, or rather the red glasses covering his eyes, she asked:

"Isn't all this very meaningless?" "How meaningless?" "You're just assigning me a role and stating that this is how it will be. Why? Why are you protecting me? I don't suspect you, I want... connection from you." "What connection?" "Well... I mean... Why. You're explaining the result, but you're skipping over the cause. Why... Why are you protecting me? I could be convinced with a single sentence."

Heralga was a commander accustomed to the comfort of giving orders without explaining their meaning. No one could question the complex connections in Heralga's mind, and he would implement the plan in his mind with his polite manner. He had a very complicated and scattered way of thinking, but ultimately it produced logical results. He wasn't angry at Xea for questioning his orders, since Xea wasn't a soldier. However, what she wanted was like questioning how the system of a very complex machine worked. Yes, it could be explained, but explaining this required effort in itself.

"Look, girl... I'm an anarchist. A real and strict anarchist. Karagül is anarchist; there are anarchist organizations like us everywhere in this age, but no one can surrender to nature's true flow. I aim to eliminate all organizations, including Karagül, and truly liberate humanity. But Karagül is a tool to reach this goal. There are many sides trying to govern the world, even secretly, and my war is against them."

Xea looked up and asked:

"So what is my mission?" "The only obstacle to the world's true freedom is a massive computer system. Access to this is only possible with a genetic code, and you were created to destroy this system. The Cult is controlled by this computer system. So even if we destroy our human masters and ward off threats like this religious hierarchy, we must also destroy our machine masters." "You... You're going to create chaos." "Yes. I want to create the chaos that needs to be lived through. After chaos, humanity will build its own natural order that develops spontaneously. But these masters make humanity dependent on them by constantly intervening in the world."

Many things were now more understandable for Xea. She was completely willing to go underground.