The sun was shining brightly from six or seven different directions, each shifted ever so slightly over the electromagnetic spectrum, which is to say that the beautiful, broken scenery of Huaquiao Energy Research center was graced by the rays of a multicolored and fractured disc, that looked more like a broken, colorful, and exceedingly bright dinner plate than a star.

The rays fell in broken paths, refracted at all possible angles, in all possible colors, including the ever so elusive octarine. The dirty and battered plasteel structures and bulletproof glass of Lab 44 were tinted with endless strands of delicate hues and dotted by the occasional bright saturated droplet of pure white. To an onlooker it would seem like a delicate spiderweb, holding bright dots of morning dew, woven by some kind of unspeakable giant cosmic spider with a fondness for arts and psychotropic substances.

D.D.Dakota, a.k.a. Don Dakka, seemed unfazed by such beauty, while, with quick and expert movements, he prepared the portable gas burner, chose the recaf powder, filled the moka with water, and, perched under a desk in the abandoned Lab 44 central office, put both under the dancing lights.

“HombHaje, HmbadBAadhaBA” he whispered to Simon, pointing meaningfully at the gas burner, which was conspicouously turned off. Simon, following with his eyes the direction of the callous and crooked finger, got lost for a second into the spectacle of delicate lights dancing around the garish plasteel object, appreciating their beauty and trying to understand their path in the midday air.

All of a sudden, as if they were never there, the multifaceted strands of light disappeared, a single bright and white-hot ray of condensed sunlight taking their place, not unlike the Vegeful Sword of Allah, as described in some ancient, but somewhat entertaining, texts.

“aw FUCK” cussed Simon, looking away and rubbing his eyes. He could see the ghost of that straight column of divine unpleasantness on top of everything he looked at.

“You collapsed the wavelength again, huh?” went Valerya flatly

“I.. I mean… I GUESS!” Simon’s voice betrayed his irritation “I was just looking at what Don Dakka…”

He stopped talking, noticing that the ray of condensed light he had summoned had turned the burner on and the coffee was now in the process of heating.

“HankyAUgh” went Dakka, with a small hand gesture and a slanted smile, criss-crossed my numerous scars, made by monsters and shrapnel over the years.

“He used me like a human lighter” sighed Simon, closing his eyes again “Why would he do that, couldn’t he stare at his own coffe maker?”

“He probably didn’t want to burn his own eyes” explained nearby Guilang (Callsign Magenta, designated as “Lt.Cuddles” today), with a thick but pleasant Yu-Jingese acent. Her delicate features and small frame made the Mongolian woman look like a porcelain doll; Simon couldn’t help but stare at her, and the beautiful colors of light reflecting off the harsh plasteel building back into her black eyes…

“Ow fucking-FUCK GODDAMNIT!” screamed Simon again, rubbing his eyes and looking away from the sudden flash of light.

Don Dakka poured him a cup of hot coffe “Quit playing, kid, Tartary are coming to steal our quarry” he said, with a deep, gravely and disturbuingly sexy voice

“What the fuck?” squeaked Simon