The island of svyatoslav,a quiet heaven not far from the continent of silnivoyek,was a place of peace,a place were life moved slowly untouched by the chaos of the outside world.
Deep underground beneath the quite island,in the heart of mining company,Demid swing his pickaxe against the rock wall.The steady rhythm of labor echoed through the tunnels,the dill thud of metal,the scrape of shovel,the murmured conversation of exhausted workers.Dust cling to his skin and sweat dripped from his brow,but he worked without complaint.it was just another normal day beneath the earth.
Until the silence and peace was broken.
"Demid ! Demid !"
A frantic voice cut through the tunnels,followed by the hurried stomp of boots on the stone,One of the younger workers,face pale with urgency,appeared at the mouth of the passage,gasping for breath.
Demid straightened,gripping his pickaxe, "what is it ?"
"I just received a call from my wife she told me… !"The boy gulp of air."your wife is in labor!"
Demid eyes widen for a moment, The words crashed into him like a cave-in. His fingers went slack, and the pickaxe slipped from his grip, clattering to the ground. For a moment, he just stood there, his breath caught in his chest.
"Go, man!" someone shouted, slapping his shoulder.
"What are you waiting for?"
That snapped him out of it.
Without another word, Demid turned and ran.
"Congrats demid!"
"Congrats Mr viazemsky!"
Boots pounded against the stone floor as he sprinted through the tunnels, past dimly lit workstations and flickering holographic displays showing mineral readings. Automated mining arms whirred nearby, their mechanical limbs cutting deep into the rock, but Demid barely noticed them. His only thought was getting to Agata in time.
The ladder shaft loomed ahead. He scrambled up the rungs, nearly slipping in his haste. By the time he reached the surface, the stark contrast of worlds hit him—from the artificial lights of the mine to the golden glow of the oil lamps and firepits that lit the town above.
Svyatoslav was a place that clung to the past. No neon billboards, no flying transports, no towering metal spires. Just cobbled streets, wooden homes, and the rhythmic crash of the ocean against the cliffs. The people here didn't trust machines. But in the modern world beyond the island? Technology ruled.
Demid barely registered the gasps and congratulations as he tore through the market, dodging carts of fresh fish and old women gossiping beneath cloth awnings.
"Demid!" an old woman called after him, her voice carrying over the noise of the bustling street. "What's the rush?"
He barely had the breath to answer. "The baby—it's coming!"
"Oh, Demid! Congratulations!" she exclaimed, her face lighting up with a smile.
"Thank you!" Demid managed to shout over his shoulder, already picking up speed again. He didn't stop until the hospital came into view—a stark anomaly against the rest of the town. Unlike the wooden homes and hand-built structures, the hospital was a sleek, white tower of reinforced steel and glass, its seven stories gleaming beneath the sun.
The sliding holo-doors hissed open as he stumbled inside, breathless. Cold, sterile air replaced the salty sea breeze. Bright LED panels illuminated the pristine, metallic floors. Nurses—both human and robotic—moved efficiently through the halls, their voices a mix of natural tones and digitized speech.
A medical bot, humanoid in design but with sleek chrome plating, approached him. Its single blue optic flickered as it scanned him.
>"Sir, can you identify yourself and who you are here to visit?"<
"My wife," Demid gasped, wiping the sweat from his brow. "Her name is Agata. Agata Ivanova."
The robot's eyes flickered as it processed the information. >"Agata Ivanova. Fifth floor, Room A."<
Demid didn't wait for further instructions. He darted toward the elevators, jamming the button with his finger. The lift was taking too long,for his racing heart. Impatient, he turned on his heel and sprinted for the stairs, taking them two at a time. By the time he reached the fifth floor, his legs burned, but he pushed himself forward,his pulse was a drum in his ears.
At the far end, a small holographic screen hovered beside a waiting bench, projecting a soft lullaby. His daughter, Sasha, sat beside it, swinging her legs. A male nurse—human this time—knelt beside her, showing her how to control the holo-display with her fingers.
"Papa!" she squealed, jumping to her feet and running toward him.
Demid scooped her up in his arms, holding her tightly for a moment. "I'm glad you're okay," he said, his voice soft with relief. He turned to the nurse, nodding his thanks. "Thank you for looking after her."
The male nurse smiled. "It's no trouble at all. Congratulations, by the way."
Demid handed Sasha back to him and hurried toward Room A. As he stepped inside, the atmosphere shifted.
The air felt heavy—not just with sterilized medical scents, but with tension. Nurses whispered, their holo-pads flickering as they exchanged data. A doctor hovered near Agata, her expression unreadable.
Something was wrong.
Demid swallowed hard. "Agata?"
She was pale, exhausted—but smiling. "He's here, Demid."
She lifted the small bundle in her arms. But Demid barely heard her. The room was too quiet.
No crying. No wailing. Just silence.
A robotic assistant nearby beeped softly, running a full-body scan over the newborn with a thin, glowing blue light. Its single optic blinked yellow—a sign of uncertainty.
One of the nurses murmured, "Is… is this normal?"
Demid's heart skipped a beat. "What's wrong with my son?" he demanded, his voice sharp with worry.
The doctor turned to him, her expression a mix of curiosity and concern. "He's not crying. It's... unusual."
Demid stepped closer, his chest tight. The baby lay still, staring up at the ceiling light. His dark, unblinking eyes reflected the glow above.
He wasn't crying. Wasn't squirming. Just watching.
The doctor hesitated before speaking. "Most newborns cry to clear their lungs. But… his vitals are stable."
Agata gripped the blanket tighter. "Then why isn't he making any noise?"
The medical bot whirred, its head tilting as if puzzled. >"Subject displays normal heart rate, oxygen levels, and temperature. However… lack of emotional response is atypical."<
Demid's stomach twisted. Lack of emotional response.
He knelt beside Agata,he reached out his calloused finger and brush against the baby's cheek.But No reaction. The child didn't turn toward him, didn't blink. He simply existed, as if he had always been here, untouched by the world.
For a moment, Demid was silent. Then, a laugh bubbled up from his chest, breaking the tension in the room. "I guess he's a special kid," he said, his voice warm with pride.
The tension in the room eased slightly.
Agata looked up at him, her face pale but glowing with a tired smile. "What should we name him?"
Demid glanced at the ceiling light—the same one the baby hadn't stopped staring at. The child's gaze shifted slightly, still fixed on the light above. "Luka," Demid said softly. "We'll call him Luka. Since he seems to like the light."
Agata's tired smile widened. "That's a beautiful name….Luka Viazemsky."
Demid gazed down at little Luka, his heart swelling with a mix of pride and hope. "I hope you grow up healthy and happy," he murmured, his voice soft but firm.
Agata's expression shifted, her brows furrowing with worry. "But, honey..." she began, her voice trailing off.
Demid reached out, gently squeezing her hand. "It's okay, Agata. We'll take care of him and love him no matter what. I'm sure he's just special. When he grows up, he'll start showing emotions. We just need to be patient."
At that moment, the door creaked open, and the male nurse stepped in, holding Sasha's tiny hand. Demid straightened and bowed slightly, making room for his daughter to see her new brother.
Sasha's eyes widened as she peered at the bundle in her father's arms.
Demid smiled, placing a hand on her shoulder. "This is your little brother. His name is Luka. From now on, you're his big sister, so you'll need to take care of him, okay?"
Sasha's face lit up. "Really?"
Demid chuckled. "Really."
Sasha leaned in, pressing her tiny fingers against Luka's hand. To everyone's surprise, Luka's fingers curled around hers—but mechanically, not with warmth. His dark, unreadable eyes locked onto hers.
Sasha gasped. "Papa! He grabbed my hand!"
Agata's eyes softened. "Look at that. He recognized her."
Demid chuckled. "Looks like they'll get along just fine."
Sasha puffed out her chest. "Don't worry, Luka! As your big sister, I'll protect you!"
Luka didn't react. He just kept staring, silent as ever.
Outside, the wind whispered through the trees, and the ocean continued its endless song.
And in the quiet hum of the modern hospital, a boy who did not cry took his first steps into the world.