Facing the mirror, I removed the gauze to check if the bleeding had stopped.

“I wasn’t too rough, was I?” A red deer rested his chin between my antlers, nuzzling slowly.

“No, you weren’t.” I patted his cheek in response, enjoying the tender touch. “But it was so cold, it pulled me out of character for a moment,” I said as I watched him place the false teeth on the sink.

“Oh, sorry. I’ll be more careful next time.” He hugged me lazily from behind, which made me feel secure. As a male, feeling this way seemed a bit unmanly, but being under 160 centimeters tall, it was my only privilege.

“Oh right, it’s my turn to prepare, isn’t it?” I checked the sodium bicarbonate injection nearby; it was about to expire.

I didn’t want to have a stress-induced myopathy, die of rhabdomyolysis in a cheap hotel, and become a sensational headline fed to the bloodthirsty public. Just imagining such a shameful event almost triggered my distress response.

“No need. I’d like to meet again the day after tomorrow,” he said, nudging my ear with his wet nose.

“Isn’t that a bit soon?” The ticklish feeling on my ear made me laugh as I gently pushed him away.

“I’ll be in the antler shedding phase then, and I don’t want to go out.” He sighed, hugging me tighter.

“What does it matter? Everyone wears fake antlers anyway; no one will dare say anything.” I scratched the suddenly itchy skin on my head. It looked like my antlers were about to fall off too. “I can’t do the day after tomorrow. How about the day after that?”

“I’m having dinner with my girlfriend that day,” he stated simply.

“Oh.” I cleared my throat, thinking I had perfectly defused the awkward situation. “Are you planning to tell her about your… preferences?” I knew some couples could accept it.

“No,” he said, somewhat detached, placing his hand on my lips and rubbing the tip of my canine tooth with his fingertip. “I’m more hardcore; it has to be real teeth for me to feel anything.”

I actually wanted to ask if she would be okay with him seeking pleasure elsewhere, not whether he wanted to try new things with her. But since I didn’t even know this red deer’s name, I had no standing to say anything.

“Maybe you should consider emigrating to the Lunar?” I suggested. I’d heard the residents there were very tolerant.

“Hah, living next to the Canine Empire and those terrifying reptilian pirates? No way. Just the thought of walking alongside carnivores makes my fur stand on end.” He laughed, making a disgusted face, his tone more disdainful than I expected. “See you next time?” He was fully dressed in an instant, and I nodded slightly in response.

After hearing the door close, I stood in front of the mirror for a while longer, looking at my thin reflection and gently touching the tip of my exposed canine tooth with my finger.



I found a path leading to the top of the hotel.

The wind carried a slight ozone scent, probably blowing directly from the air ducts. It felt good, my short fur and the hem of my clothes swaying in the same rhythm.

Leaning on the metal railing, I gazed down at Valles Marineris, imagining the streets of the Lunar—bright, busy, and vibrant. Essentially, an optimized version of Ares.

Canines, herbivores, and reptiles living together. Is that really possible? Maybe one day, I’ll see it for myself.

Suddenly, I had a flash of inspiration, an answer to a question that had been bothering me for a long time. I took out my notebook and wrote down the new idea.

After recording it, I turned to the first few pages of the notebook and read my somewhat sloppy handwriting. With the resources at hand, I could only barely translate “the strong” and “the weak.” What did this sentence mean? I pondered amidst the emerging memories.

“You’re quite an interesting muntjac.” The red deer coughed up more blood as he spoke.

“Don’t talk!” How could I have been so calm back then? He had so many holes in him, each one gushing blood that showed no signs of stopping.

The nearby sand, saturated with blood, had become sticky. How much blood can a body lose? Even if I lay on top of the red deer, I couldn’t cover all the bleeding points because I was too small. I called out to passersby for help, but they all turned away, maintaining a polite but distant stance.

“This is probably my karma.” The red deer actually laughed. To this day, I still don’t understand what he meant. “Hey, we don’t even know each other. Why are you so eager to help?” He had the energy to joke, but I was too frantic to catch his meaning. “Just to be clear, I only go past second base with someone I’ve had at least two dinners with.” Taking a wrong turn led me to this blood-soaked, dying red deer lying on a street corner.

Without much thought and not knowing what I could do to help, I rushed to him. All the first aid knowledge I’d ever heard of or half-remembered from skipping out early on safety training sessions exploded in my mind, but none of it was useful.

“Isn’t this what anyone would do?” With my hands covered in slippery blood, operating my personal terminal was very difficult, and I couldn’t even switch to voice control mode. But at that time, I didn’t know how futile it was to try notifying a hospital. On reflection, seeing a stranger lying in a pool of blood and rushing to help wasn’t something just anyone would do.

The red deer laughed again, or at least I thought he was trying to. The coughing, blood-filled gurgles weren’t easy to interpret.

“Then I… maybe I should take a gamble too…” To this day, I’m unsure if that was my imagination.

With a few trembling fingers, the red deer touched my head, smearing half my face with blood. “Только сила знает конфликт, слабость ниже даже поражения и рождается побежденным.” He recited, imprinting these incomprehensible words into my memory. I was utterly shocked, but I’m certain I saw his brown eyes turn bright red in that moment.

Then, the red deer died.

Still in shock, I remained in the position of trying to stop the bleeding until the authorities arrived. Being treated as a suspect and interrogated non-stop for forty-eight hours was the closest I’d ever come to a mental breakdown until I started preparing for the qualification exams.

Speaking of which, if it weren’t for the university’s intervention, I’d likely have rotted away in some unnoticed place, so I remain grateful to my advisor. “Repay me by enrolling in the Ph.D. program,” I knew he wasn’t joking.

Pulling myself out of the memories, I closed the notebook and returned it to my pocket.

By a twist of fate, my efforts to translate the indelible words in my mind led me to read and compare numerous ancient texts, sparking many questions about history. The deeper I delved, the more mysteries I found, and no answers. We’ve forgotten far more about the past than we remember. I consulted every relevant herbivore expert and scoured all the museums on Ares and its moons, yet made no progress.

How had I not considered it? The answer wouldn’t be found on Ares. If any place could provide answers, it would be the Lunar, the only place in the Sol where multiple species still coexist and stories and secrets haven’t been distorted by official propaganda. The different versions of events preserved in such a highly diverse society’s lore could bring me closer to uncovering the truth of history.

Lost languages, undocumented texts, secrets buried on the other side of the world. I wanted to understand how everything became what it is today and what we could become in the future.

Does the opportunity for change exist?

The ozone smell grew stronger as I straightened up and stretched, looking up at the sky. A spaceship had just left port, leaving a bright trail behind it. Some emotion surged within me, making me reach out, as if I could touch the real stars.