Morfel sat in his office, gazing out across his domain. Beyond the tall windows, Veyrith moved gracefully through the stronghold, citizens at their homes, artisans at their work, others laughing in the streets. It was a harmony mankind had never known, a quiet utopia free of politics and strife.
Yet Morfel's brows knit, shadows of recent incidents stirring unease beneath the veneer of perfection.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The door opened and Laufrein entered, "m'lord," she said, bowing as she extended a sealed scroll, "an urgent summoning has arrived."
Morfel turned, and accepted the parchment, he unfurled it, his eyes read its contents, then burned it to ash with a flare of white fire. "Prepare the portal."
Laufrein inclined her head and sent her command telepathically, Morfel swept from the office, his elegant white cape shifting with each step as Laufrein followed at his side, together they crossed the marble hall, the left wall opening to a radiant garden where Veyrith bowed in reverence as their master passed.
At the end of the corridor, a vast chamber awaited, in its center, a circular pedestal rose, engraved with intricate runes and enclosed in gilded arcs of light, Morfel mounted the platform.
The spell activated, golden brilliance engulfed him, dissolving him into radiant fragments that shimmered like falling stars.
A cavern of shadow unfolded before him, walls of jagged stone rising high in a spiral, carved with countless statues that wound upward toward a sky where black clouds churned violently. At the center, a lone platform of earth awaited, its only path leading into a tunnel bleeding with a red, sinister glow.
Morfel stepped forward, every motion poised, every sense sharpened.
Inside, the ground squelched beneath his boots, slick with blood, each step sent ripples through the crimson pool that covered the floor, flickering candles and dim chandeliers swung overhead, their flames revealed a vast throne room, stone statues lined the walls, a long crimson carpet stretched forward, leading to a dais of gilded steel and red inlay, where an ornate throne loomed high.
Two figures stood at attention, bowing as he entered.
The first was a hulking warrior clad in jagged black steel, cape hung heavy from his shoulders, bound with chains, hooks dangled from his belt, swaying against his muscled frame, his long gray hair spilled past a cruel, spiked pauldron, and an enormous axe rested at his side, its edge chipped but stained dark.
Beside him stood a woman draped in silver, her armor was elegant, her greaves polished like mirrors, her cape striped and ending in tattered points. Long green hair, braided tightly, spilled over her shoulder, and her lips were painted a dripping crimson. A wicked scythe leaned casually at her side, its shimmering blade catching the candlelight.
And at the end of the hall upon the throne sat a figure all too familiar. He reclined as though the world itself bored him, one arm propped lazily on the throne's armrest, cheek resting against his hand. A pristine white coat draped over a blood-red suit. His heterochrome eyes can only be seen from the shadow, burning with cold amusement, gazed down at his loyal subjects.
Morfel stepped into place at the center of the chamber, his white cape falling in place on the carpet. The other two figures straightened, heads bowed in silence until Eltries's voice echoed from the throne.
"Eltries calls upon Fahl Milviore."
The woman lifted her chin with pride, her scythe gleaming at her side,
"Your highness," she responds, "the Sabin region bends further each day, new captures, new runes… all swelling my dominion. Soon, the land itself will be my domain."
Eltries did not answer, his eyes shifted instead toward the armored giant.
With a grunt, Arthaen responds, chains rattled from his motion, "thousands of Crosents and Veylan now under my rule, bound to my command. Celvia is mine. Its people, its strongholds, all crushed beneath my heel, and I will not stop!"
The throne room's air grew heavier, Morfel's jaw tightened, but he forced his composure, he had rehearsed his words but then Eltries's gaze fixed on him.
"And you… Morfel."
Morfel gave the faintest nod, steadying his voice. "Your highness, I…"
"You don't need to lie to me."
The words cut him short, Eltries leaned forward, with voice dripping malice, "I know everything, your scheme do not work on me."
Milviore and Arthaen sneered, smirking like jackals circling wounded prey, Morfel's confidence wavered, though he clenched his fists to hide it.
Eltries rose, descending one step from his throne, the flames flanking him flared violently, shadows stretching long across the chamber, he stepped close, bent low, and whispered something into Morfel's ear.
Morfel's eyes widened, sweat broke along his neck, his body stiffened under the weight of the words.
"As… you wish, your highness," he stammered.
Eltries's lips curled into a cruel smile, he straightened, the throne room flickered wildly, firelight dancing in his heterochrome eyes.
Morfel emerged back in his domain, and in his shattered composure, white flames erupted from his body, searing with rage as the portal pedestal cracked and then exploded in a violent surge of heat. Molten streaks scorched the marble, and Laufrein stumbled back, shielding her face from the sudden inferno.
"M'lord…" she whispered, trembling.
But Morfel did not answer, he strode past her in silence and descended into a passage.
The hidden chamber writhed with horrors, rows of humans hung suspended in grotesque cocoons of ectoplasmic muscle, their bodies twitching faintly as the tentacles that bound them pulsed and writhed, feeding, incubating, the stench of flesh clung thick to the air.
At the end of the hall, a circle of Veyrith knelt in concentration around a test subject, a human captive. They parted at Morfel's approach, bowing low as he stepped forward to gaze upon the experiment.
Trance sat slumped in the chair, head split open, his brain exposed to the cold light. Wires snaked into the folds of his brain, while his scarred arms dangled limp, twitching from unnatural jolts.
"Scan his memory and find out everything about these fugitives, quickly."
"Yes, m'lord," the Veyrith answered in unison.
Morfel turned away, his white flame flickering violently, his face twisted with malice as he whispered.
"Cher… Garm… you will pay dearly for this. I will annihilate your base… and everyone around you."
"Hyaaa! Hiyaaa!"
Cher's voice rang out into the quiet night, the training grounds were deserted, Gil and Eric had left long ago, yet she remained, sweat dripping with every strike.
Each swing of the wooden blade painted the same nightmare, in her mind's eye, the monstrous reptilian form lunged again and again, faster, heavier, overwhelming her.. Left, right, dive, roll, but always, always, he caught her in the end.
Her jaw clenched as frustration mounted she tried once more, this time forcing herself forward, intercepting Oblek's imagined strike, her eyes burned with sudden light, the rune on her hand flared, scales sprouted along her arms as strength surged beyond her control, wth a single motion, she shattered her wooden sword into fragments that clattered across the floor.
Panting, she stumbled back and reached for another practice blade, dozens os broken shards littered the ground. She steeled herself again, forcing her mind back into the rhythm, trying to master both her form and her fear.
But in her mind, Oblek still won, again and again, until, with a bitter exhale, she let the sword drop and bent over, leaning heavily on her knees.
Clap. Clap.
The sharp sound cut through the night.
Cher startled, whipping her head to the right, from the shadowed edge of the grounds, a tall gentleman emerged, he wore a white shirt beneath a fitted jacket, a golden ring and a tag necklace gleaming at his chest, with short, wavy hair and striking blue eyes.
"Such beauty," he said smoothly, "your form is almost perfect… just in need of a little polish."
Cher straightened at once, still catching her breath, she opened her mouth to speak, but the stranger moved first.
He bent down, picked one of the discarded swords from the ground, and without hesitation slipped into her stance.
Her eyes widened, his form was flawless, as he moved, she saw it, the image in her mind shifting Oblek before him, and with a single precise strike, the monster fell.
"A… amazing…" Cher whispered.
The gentleman turned, meeting her astonished gaze, he stepped closer, offered her the sword, and placed it firmly back into her hand.
"Again," he said.
Cher hesitated, then obeyed, she raised the blade, replaying the motions, at once, he adjusted her with effortless confidence, tapping her legs. "Too wide." Pressing her shoulder lightly. "Too low."
She followed every correction diligently, this time, when she conjured Oblek's image, the sword felt lighter, she thrust forward, piercing straight into his chest, and followed through with a flawless finishing blow.
Her heart racing, for the first time, she had struck Oblek down.
The gentleman crossed his arms and smiled back at her then Eric's voice rang out, "Cher, are you still there?", Cher replied "Yes, I am with an amazing gentleman here" as she points her hand proudly but he vanished, Eric tilted his head as Cher looked around "Wha… Eh?"
The next day, Briggs called for a meeting.
He stood tall before the trio, his voice carrying the steady authority of a commander. "First of all, I want to thank you for your report, Cher," he began, giving her a nod.
"And to the three of you, congratulations. For a newly formed unit, you've achieved more than I dared expect. The cores you retrieved are invaluable. Our team has already decrypted more than half of the coded data. That's a breakthrough."
He exhaled, then straightened his back. "On behalf of Karlean's territory, I thank you for your courage, braving even the most dreaded storms, which are the Veyrith."
Eric couldn't hide his grin, but Cher's brow furrowed.
"Commander," she spoke carefully, "we still failed to learn anything about Trance's whereabouts."
The room stilled, Briggs's expression changed, the air turning heavy. He paused, before reaching into his pocket. "Then you should hear this," he said quietly.
He set a small recorder on the table. Static crackled. A strained voice came through.
"Bzzt… Commander… we are at the Worzyick, but… something feels off. The lab… it's gone. Only rubble remains…"
The voice wavered, then descended into chaos.
"Commander… back up… Veyrith… Aaah! Ghhhk… We're under attack!"
Yufer's voice screamed faintly in the background before the message cut off into silence.
Cher's heart sank. Eric and Gil looked grim. Briggs drew a deep breath, then added quietly.
"He knew their mission had failed, but thanks to his wit, he scattered the runes where the Veyrith would never suspect, his rune allowed him to slip past their onslaught, if only for a moment."
The heaviness in the room pressed down on them, Cher lowered her gaze, sorrow written across her face.
Then, suddenly, Briggs laughed, he pulled out a bottle from his desk, popped the cork, and took a long swig before slamming it down. "Ha! Do you know what kind of man Trance was?" he said, "once, he stumbled into camp with teary eyes, looked at me like a lost child, because her adored Lilia rejected him!"
He slapped his belly, wheezing through his laughter, tears welled in his eyes, but the trio could see it wasn't just from humor.
As he continued with mor stories form their past, drawing not so distant memories of their endeavors and shared bond.
Cher, Eric, and Gil exchanged glances, beneath the commander's hearty laughter lay grief.
Briggs wiped his face, took another swig, and set the bottle down with a thud, his voice shifted. "…About this monster." His gaze moved between them. "Please, tell me everything you can."
Cher hesitated, then said, "as per my report, the creature wasn't hostile to us at least, oddly enough, it seemed… deliberate. Intelligent, almost as if it wasn't after us at all, but hunting the Veyrith."
Briggs leaned back, "Intelligent… Hunting Veyrith…" he thought deeply.
The hatch creaked open, Hendrick stepped in, giving a formal bow.
"Oh, looks like she's here already," Briggs muttered, reaching for his pocket for another swig of booze.
Before he could draw it out, Hendrick went and seized the bottle from his grasp, Briggs clicked his tongue in annoyance, then waved toward the door.
"Guys, please welcome the newest addition to your team, her name is Mana."
A young girl entered, with an appearance no more than ten years, dressed in an elegant white dress with pink loafers, her long, silky hair shimmered as it swayed, and striking her purple eyes, but, most notable of all were the two glowing runes on her neck.
Cher noticed immediately, but more importantly, she noticed how impossibly cute the girl was.
"Aww, soooo cute!" Cher squealed, scooping Mana into her arms, "be my little sister!"
While Cher smothered Mana with affection, Briggs tried to sneak his hand behind Hendrick for the bottle, Hendrick raised it out of reach, and Briggs swatted the air in frustration.
"Commander," Gil inquired, "sorry, but… if I may ask, you said she's our new member?"
Cher froze, glancing from Mana back to Briggs.
Briggs stood gently, and crossed his arms, "That's right. From this day forth, Maya is part of your team, which I'm officially naming… The Ultra Exterminators."
The room fell silent… nobody seemed impressed.
Hendrick cleared his throat politely, "Commander, if I may suggest… Considering their runes and their recent achievement, perhaps something more fitting. Say… Karlean Sentinels?"
Cher's eyes brightened instantly, Gil and Eric exchanged a look, and even Mana gave a small nod.
Briggs scratched his chin, then gave a reluctant smirk. "Hmph. Fine. Karlean's Sentinels it is."
Then as it was decided the two others stood and welcomed Mana to their team, Briggs smile looking proud in his mind "Fate has brought you together Cher, she can help you unravel your past."
Back in her room, Cher stretched, unfurled her blanket, and tapped her pillow with a sigh of relief. Just as she was about to lie down, knock knock.
She opened the door to find Mana standing there, silent, her purple eyes glinting faintly in the dim light.
"Oh… Mana," Cher said softly, without hesitation, she stepped aside. "Come in."
Cher pulled out a chair, but Mana ignored it and walked straight to the bed, she sat at the edge, her gaze fixed on the window.
Cher settled behind her, studying her small frame, "What brings you here, Mana? Trouble sleeping?"
Mana looked at her and shook her head, her thumb pinched lightly at the fabric of her pajamas, her lips parting as though to speak, yet no words came.
Understanding her unease, Cher reached for a comb resting on her desk, she gently slid it through Mana's silky hair, its strands gleaming like silver in light, as she combed, she began to hum, a soft, steady rhythm.
"When I was a child," Cher murmured, "and thunder kept me awake, my mother would comb my hair and sing this hymn, it never failed to make me sleep."
The melody lingered in the quiet room, wrapping them in warmth, Mana's hands slowly relaxed against her lap, her breathing softening.
Inside her mind, a single thought echoed with certainty…
"… I found you at last… Althia Froscher"