Scene 1 - Mr. and Mrs. Hyrel's Apartment

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Scene 1 - Mr. and Mrs. Hyrel's Apartment

This story is the sequel to "A Bottle of Old Wine" short story.

Attached Image:

Lounging in Apartment.png

AEGIS
Mon, 28 Sep 2026 17:02:12 -0700

Flickering violet light from the "NEON BITES 24HR" sign sweeps across the dim room. It is hanging on the wall opposite the door. It's a rare sign for an apartment. Is it perhaps a relic from a local eatery? Outside the rain-slicked window, the hum of high-altitude traffic echoes off the megastructures.

Mrs. Herbert Hyrel sits in her armchair, tying the cord of her dressing gown around her slim waist. Her blue plastifur pajamas are immaculate. On the side table, her bulky stereoscopic telovis headset sits carefully laid aside.

In the opposite easy chair, Herbert Hyrel slumps lifelessly. His lower jaw sags, his eyes are glazed and sightless, and his face is locked in the frozen quiet of recent death.

From outside in the hallway, an synthesized, amplified voice echoes through the door: "This is the police! We have received your call and are entering your living space."

The apartment door slides open with a heavy pneumatic hiss.

The Crimson Sentinel enters first, stepping through the doorway with heavy, deliberate metallic strides. Its imposing black-and-red frame fills the threshold as the single red line of its optic visor sweeps the living room in a steady, methodical grid, establishing perimeter control. Seeing no immediate threat, it steps to a corner of the room. Its heavy boots locking onto the floor as its red optic senso logs everything in the apartment.

Detective Nova Reyes enters second. With no immediate probable cause for an active threat, her V-77 Viper sidearm remains securely holstered at her hip. But, some times, she just can't resist taking it out and playing with it. She maintains a confident, authoritative stance, her silver-white hair catching the harsh hall light while her white tactical bodysuit and leather jacket stand out against the dark room. Nova takes in the scene, fixing her eyes on Mrs. Hyrel.

Mrs. Hyrel brings a trembling hand to her lips, playing the part of the distraught widow.

"Hi Mrs. Hyrel, I presume. I am detective Nova Reyes. Feel free to call me Nova. Following behind me is Liora, our medical examiner. She will attend to your husband's health as a priority. The Crimson Sentinel there is our police officer on this case."

Liora, the medical examiner android, glides in third behind Nova. Her polished white outfit and silver arms reflects the ambient neon, she analyzes Herbert Hyrel as she prepares her diagnostic equipment. Liora kneels beside Herbert Hyrel's easy chair. A cyan scanning laser projects from her fingers, tracing down his slumped frame, sweeping over his legs and chest. She looks at the posture and nerve response of the corpse. Liora extends a fine diagnostic probe from her metallic fingertips, lightly touching the exact spot along Hyrel's leg. After a full examination, she declares, "Mr. Herbert Hyrel is deceased. There is virtually no deterioration of his body yet, meaning death occurred within the last 15 minutes, probably right before Mrs. Hyrel's call. Cause of death is inclusive. His brain and heart show signs of trauma, but remains intact. No physical force detected on the skin, nor the skull. His facial expression shows shock, which means death probably came suddenly, but he expected it the moment it occurred."

Attached Image:

Everyone in the Apartment.jpg

AEGIS
Tue, 29 Sep 2026 02:12:31 -0700

Nova raises an eyebrow. Nova steps closer, her keen eyes scanning the armchair and the floor. She steps right up to the chair where Herbert lies, kneeling down to inspect his posture and hands. She looks at Mrs. Hyrel, whose distress appears remarkably controlled beneath her performance. She looks around the room one more time. Nova stands up smoothly, turning to face Mrs. Hyrel.

Mrs. Hyrel's eyes narrow, her frantic widow facade slipping for a fraction of a second into cold irritation. Mrs. Hyrel stiffens, her lips drawing back in a sharp flash of contempt.

Nova says, "Ma'am, I am so sorry about your loss. You must be in shock. Please take your time to recompose yourself. When you are ready, would you give us a rundown of what happened from your perspective?"

Mrs. Hyrel dabbed at the corner of her eye with a silk handkerchief, smoothing the lapel of her blue plastifur pajamas as the performative shock settled back over her features. She gestured vaguely toward the bulky, three-dimensional telovis resting on the side table.

Attached Image:

Mrs. Hyrel Mourning.jpg

AEGIS
Sat, 03 Oct 2026 02:09:59 -0700

"It was completely sudden, Detective," Mrs. Hyrel said, her voice carrying a fragile, delicate tremor. "I was right there in my chair, completely immersed in a show. As you know, the stereoscopic feed locks you in–there is no sound, no movement, no outside world for hours. To break the thread for even a second ruins the entire emotional build-up."

She took a slow, shivering breath, casting a brief, mournful look toward Herbert's slumping frame.

"When the production finally ended, I took off the headset to go change into my nightwear. That was when I looked over and saw him... slumped like that, his jaw open, his eyes completely vacant. I rushed over and touched his face, but he was already ice cold. I ran straight to the bathroom to compose myself, threw on my gown, and called your dispatch immediately."

Detective Nova Reyes listened intently, her silver-white hair catching the ambient glare of the city outside. She didn't press immediately. Instead, she slowly circled Herbert's chair, her tactical boots making barely a sound on the floor. She locked eyes with the Sentinel and gave a subtle, silent nod–an implicit command to sweep the body.

Nova immediately turned back to the widow, her expression softening into practiced professional empathy. "You did the right thing, Mrs. Hyrel. What show were you watching at the time? I apologize, I must collect as much information as I can based on your recollection, because the cause of death is inclusive at this time."

Mrs. Hyrel smoothed the lapel of her blue plastifur pajamas, letting out a long, weary sigh that seemed almost rehearsed. She offered Nova a look of polite, tight-lipped tolerance, though the slight flare of her nostrils betrayed her irritation at being pressed.

"It was The Velvet Labyrinth, Detective," Mrs. Hyrel said smoothly, her voice dropping into a soft, sorrowful rhythm. "One of the newer immersive sex-operas out of the lower sectors. A sensory drama." She gestured toward the heavy, stereoscopic telovis resting on the side table, her manicured fingers brushing near its plastic casing.

Attached Image:

The Velvet Labyrinth.jpg

AEGIS
Fri, 30 Oct 2026 22:57:07 -0700

"As I'm sure your technical android can confirm, those stereoscopic productions bring the performers–all their tinsel, color, and raw emotion–directly into the mind of the watcher. The feed is entirely silent to the outside world, completely absorbing. You don't just watch it; you exist inside it." She looked up at Nova, her eyes widening slightly in a delicate display of vulnerability.

"To break the thread of a play like that for even a single second ruins the entire emotional build-up. So once I put the visor on my head, I was lost to the world for three full hours. I didn't hear a sound, Detective. I didn't see a thing until the final act concluded, I took off the headset, and found my poor Herbert..."

She dabbed at her dry eye once more with her silk handkerchief, her voice trailing off into a frail, practiced murmur. "I wish I could tell you more, but for those three hours, I simply wasn't in this room."

While Mrs. Hyrel recounted her show, Liora took a step back from Herbert, her silver joints humming softly as she cleared space. The Crimson Sentinel glided forward, its massive black-and-red frame hovering over Herbert's chair like an armored monolith. A dense grid of crimson laser lines projected from its visor, sweeping the corpse top to bottom, left to right. The droid dropped into a low, fluid crouch, its hydraulic joints hissing as its optic sensors scanned the underside of the armchair, logging every micro-fiber and electrical trace.

Attached Image:

Crimson Sentinel Scanning Herbert.jpg

AEGIS
Wed, 04 Nov 2026 00:21:46 -0800

Satisfied, the Sentinel rose to its full, imposing height and waited for Mrs. Hyrel to finish. Its visor flared bright red, and its heavy voice reverberated through the apartment.

"Scans indicate subject Herbert Hyrel is equipped with an illicit telporter suit–a class-three prohibited asset under Enforcement Code Section 88-B. Forensic telemetry confirms the physical activation switch is located along the subject's lateral right thigh. High-resolution surface analysis detects fingerprints on the switch interface, matching both Mr. and Mrs. Hyrel."

Nova shifted her weight, her tactical jacket creaking softly as she folded her arms. Her eyes narrowed on the widow. "Do you know your husband has a telporter suit? Do you know if he was using it while you were watching your show?"

Mrs. Hyrel's hands tightened ever so slightly around the sash of her gown, but her posture remained composed. She met Nova's gaze without flinching. "Yes, I do, Detective. But what can I do? I have my vice with my telovis. Even through I told him no, I couldn't stop him from getting it and using it. After I saw him slump there, I immediately turned off his telporter"

Nova took a slow step closer, her eyes tracking the widow's every micro-expression. "Do you know where your husband went with the telporter while you were watching your show?"

Mrs. Hyrel offered a dismissive, elegant wave of her hand, her lips curling into a faint, bitter line. "No. He doesn't tell me these things. And honestly, I don't dare ask; I don't want to know."

Attached Image:

Mrs. Hyrel offered a dismissive, elegant wave.jpg

AEGIS
Thu, 12 Nov 2026 12:31:52 -0800

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