Waves lapped gently against the shore, peaceful as ever, as Cher and the Karlean survivors prepared to depart. At the ship's entrance, some survivors casually fell into line, while others grew emotional, clinging to their newfound friends. A few even chose to remain behind, waving with tearful smiles as they embraced a new life on the island.
Cher bent down, hugging Ciel tightly and patting her head in farewell. From her hidden hand, Ciel revealed a small jar of seashells, her most cherished collection.
"Cher," she whispered, eyes trembling, "about what I said…"
Cher shook her head firmly. "My fate is not something I should fear. What I fear is dying in vain. But dying a hero, that, I promise you."
Ciel's eyes welled as she threw her arms around Cher again.
Not far away, Anessa stood watching with a soft smile, though her gaze shimmered with emotion. Euphie approached her, pressing a letter sealed with familiar handwriting into her hand… From Briggs.
Anessa's smile faltered, her lips trembling, but she nodded gratefully, Euphie turned to wave at the villagers and new refugees. Cher too rose to her feet and bowed her thanks for their hospitality, Eric and Gil lifted their arms high, shouting their goodbyes.
As the last of the refugees boarded, the ship's sails caught the wind. The gusts seemed to push them onward, like nature itself bidding farewell. From the deck, hands waved and voices called out across the waves, fading with distance.
On the shore, Anessa broke the seal and unfolded the letter.
*"To my Anessa and Ciel If you are reading this, then I may no longer walk this world. But know this, not a single day passed without me thinking of you. My body may perish, yet my love lives on, guiding you, protecting you from afar. You gave me strength, showed me how to love, and gave me courage to fight for humanity, even at the cost of my life. I will hold our memories close, even in the afterlife.
To my Ciel: grow into a strong woman, like your mother, I love you both so much!"
With all my heart, Briggs."*
Anessa's hands trembled as the words blurred before her tear-filled eyes. She pressed the letter to her chest, breaking down in sobs she could no longer contain. Ciel clung to her side, both carried by grief as the ship sailed toward its next destination, leaving behind love, loss, and unspoken promises.
The ship pierced through the clouds, its hull cutting the sky with steady grace. Hours later, their destination stretched before them, a long landing road unfurling like an invitation. Expecting a warm welcome, the passengers leaned toward the windows, excitement buzzing among them.
The descent was smooth, though sparks flared briefly as the wheels scraped the ground. The vessel groaned as it slowed, a low creak echoing through its frame until the pilot's voice reassured them:
"Welcome to Erbest Tyla, the Final Frontier."
They lined up in rows once more, stepping off the ramp in careful order. Yet the moment their feet touched the ground, the contrast was undeniable.
Gone was the paradise-like island they had left behind. Here, the air felt heavy, and the landscape seemed drained of color. Dilapidated buildings slumped along the road, wat should have been a city felt more like a graveyard of stone and steel.
Euphie exchanged a look with her two fellow Veylans and gave a subtle signal. Without a word, they slipped aside to relay a message to their contacts in the abandoned city.
Eric rubbed his arms, unease prickling his skin. "Ugh… this place gives me the chills. I swear a ghost's gonna pop out."
Gil, unable to resist, crept behind him and blew a cold puff of air against his neck.
"Gyaah! A ghost!" Eric screamed, leaping half a foot off the ground.
Gil doubled over, clutching his stomach in laughter, Eric's face burned red, and he lunged after him, chasing him down the cracked old road.
Cher, meanwhile, lingered her gaze wandered across the empty streets, settling on a weathered building that seemed all too familiar. Memories stirred, fragments of a time when she and her parents lived here, before the decay, before the silence. A pang struck her chest, fleeting yet sharp, as the weight of the past pressed close against the present.
After receiving a firm signal, Euphie stepped forward and raised her voice.
"Citizens of Karlea, Erbest Tyla is now ready to receive you."
The words had barely left her lips when the sharp crash of breaking glass rang out across the empty street. From alleys and broken doorways, figures emerged, armed men and women, emerged wearing their warm with smiles.
The suddenness froze the crowd for a breath, but their gestures were welcoming. With careful order, the newcomers were led toward an old subway entrance across the deserted road.
One by one, the people filed in, all seven hundred souls descended into the darkness, their footsteps echoing against rusted metal and cracked tiles. The air grew cooler, heavier. For some, their skin prickled uneasily, as though stepping into the throat of some vast creature.
At the end of the subway lay a colossal lift, its gears groaning as it lowered them deep into the earth. For a long stretch it was only the grind of machinery and the feeling of sinking further away from the world above.
Then, with a shudder, the lift halted, the doors groaned open.
And the sight that met them was unlike anything they had ever imagined.
Layers upon layers of carved land stretched out below, stacked in tiers like a colossal hive. Houses clung to the rock, shops and stalls bustled along narrow walkways, whole districts thriving beneath the surface.
Gardens hung from balconies, suspended by thick ropes and vines, their greenery glowing in the artificial light. Water trickled from carved channels, weaving into streams that fed the lower levels.
At the heart of it all yawned a vast crater with smooth carved walls, its depths filled with a radiance unlike sunlight. A blazing orb pulsed there, not shining with warmth, but humming with energy, its currents threading out in countless strands that lit the cavern and powered every household. The city was more than just a refuge, it was entirely self-sustaining. Every drop of water, every spark of light, every crop of food was drawn from ingenious systems woven into the stone, making the underground stronghold capable of surviving cut off from the surface for generations.
It was a world hidden beneath ruin, a secret city, alive where the surface had withered.
Cher, Eric, and Gil stepped out of the lift with the others, their jaws slack at the sight of the underground city.
Eric's eyes darted everywhere, up at the tiered balconies, across the glowing gardens, down at the radiant crater at the city's heart. He was so distracted he began to drift out of line like a stray cat sniffing a new alley.
"Oi, back in line," Gil muttered, yanking him by the collar and tugging him back, drawing a few chuckles from nearby refugees.
The procession emerged into a wide, open chamber that dwarfed the narrow lifts and passageways they had passed through. The space had the air of a command center, head operations, its high ceiling arched with steel supports, walls lined with consoles, screens, and moving personnel, it was here, in the heart of the base.
A group of figures in fitted uniforms awaited them, at their head stood a middle-aged man with streaks of silver in his hair, his expression both stern and warmly welcoming.
He stepped forward, hands clasped behind his back, and raised his voice so all could hear.
"Citizens of Karlea, welcome to Erbest Tyla." His voice carried authority, but also relief. "My name is Warwick, chief of research and medical operations here. For years, I've overseen the maintenance and innovation of this base you now call home."
The newcomers murmured, some exchanging hopeful glances.
Cher, however froze.
That name Warwick, memories flickered in her mind, the Warwick Laboratories deep in the swampy regions, and more than that she remembered him standing alongside Briggs during their mission in Merdea.
Her breath caught as the realization struck, he wasn't just any researcher. He had been one of the minds behind the invention of the Arhex Cores, the complex algorithms that allowed humanity to advance research on the Veyrith.
Now, here he stood before them, alive and leading this subterranean refuge.
Euphie stepped forward, her boots clicking against the polished floor of the operations chamber. She presented Warwick with a sealed letter and her written report. He cleared his throat as he skimmed the report with practiced precision, though the letter he slipped discreetly into his coat pocket. After a moment, he gave Euphie a firm nod acknowledgment enough and then lifted his gaze to address the room.
While Warwick continued his briefing, staff members moved methodically through the line of weary refugees, checking each for signs of infection and assessing their overall health. One by one, the newcomers were issued clean uniforms, their old clothes collected, and given small rations of food and water to restore their strength.
Finally, Warwick's voice carried through the chamber, as he concluded. "From this day forward, this city is yours as much as ours." With a sharp motion of his hand, he directed the newcomers toward the lower levels, the staff quickly shuffled into formation, guiding the refugees through winding corridors toward their designated quarters carved into the bedrock of the base's bottom tiers.
Cher and Mana were assigned a small room along the left corridor of their segment, the number Section-39 painted neatly across the floor. Inside, the space was modest but complete, a pair of beds, a narrow cupboard, a compact kitchen, and a small window that opened to the underground alley. Through that alley, faint light glimmered from the distant view of the central power source.
Mana flopped onto her bed with a little sigh of relief, wriggling around before settling onto her side. She looked over at Cher, eyes heavy but warm, and managed a tired smile before drifting into sleep. Cher returned the smile softly, then turned her attention to unpacking their few belongings, carefully tucking their clothes and keepsakes into the cabinet.
Days slipped by in comfort, each one blending into the next. For once, Cher and her companions lived without the looming shadow of Veyrith attacks, secure in the knowledge that even the surface was heavily defended. Yet with safety came stagnation, peace of mind gave way to complacency, and the rhythm of life grew monotonous.
At the very bottom of the city lay a wide plaza, designed to mimic the gardens of the surface. Patches of greenery softened the stone, flowers climbed trellises, and artificial streams trickled to create the illusion of nature. The four of them sat together on a bench, exhaling long, restless sighs in unison as townsfolk strolled by without a care.
For the locals, this was life as usual, steady, sheltered, untroubled. But for fighters like them, peace felt like a cage. The stillness dulled their edge, stripping away the thrill that once defined their every heartbeat.
Eric looked up at the humming giant orb with an indifferent expression. "Ahhh… this doesn't feel like living," he muttered. "Everything seems so… I don't know, easy."
il leaned back on his arms, exhaling. "Can't believe I'm agreeing with you."
Cher sighed softly, her gaze drifting over the crowd, among the passing faces she caught sight of Euphie. "Oh, hey, Euphie?"
Euphie turned and made her way over, joining their chatter for a brief while. The air was light, until another voice joined them.
"Hi, been a while."
They turned to see Markus approaching.
"Oh, hey Markus," Cher greeted warmly. "How are your injuries?"
Markus flexed his arm, rotating it as if testing the joint, "seems about right, my ribs and arteries are healing just fine." His eyes then shifted toward Euphie. "By the way…"
Euphie stiffened, the color in her cheeks turned slightly pink.
Markus gave her a small smile and bowed slightly. "Thanks… for saving me back there."
Her face flushed crimson, and before anyone could say another word, she spun around and darted away.
Markus straightened with a hint of disappointment clouding his expression. "She must hate me… for being such a burden back there."
But Cher only smiled wryly, having read the truth in Euphie's reaction.
Markus invited Cher to explore the medical facility, eager to show her the heart of his work. They passed through sterile corridors until they reached his office-laboratory, its walls lined with glowing consoles and neatly organized shelves of instruments.
At the center stood a glass encasement, inside which a lattice of glowing glyphs pulsed faintly. Markus tapped on the display, the runes shifting like fragments of living light.
"These are synthetic runes," he explained, his tone carrying both pride and caution. "Mankind has finally begun to mimic the Veyrith's methods of harnessing power. It was Commander and Warwick's vision to pioneer this breakthrough. For now, we've only reached about forty percent efficiency but soon… perhaps anyone will be able to wield perfected runes."
He turned toward Cher. "For now, I'll need a favor from you and your team. Cher. Mana. Eric. Gil. You're going to help us test the prototype."
Cher glanced at her companions, their shared silence spoke volumes uncertainty, one by one, they nodded.
Later, each of them was handed their weapon. A sword for Cher, shield and flail for Gil, spear for Eric, and a staff for Mana.
Guided down a reinforced hallway, they stepped into a vast simulation chamber. Above, behind reinforced glass, researchers gathered to observe, their pens and tablets ready to record every reaction.
Inside, the four fighters shifted uneasily, their grips tightening around the unfamiliar runed weapons.
The chamber darkened.
A low static filled the air.
Then, with a flicker, shapes began to emerge, holographic forms coalescing into snarling lesser beasts. Their glowing outlines solidified into creatures that looked far too real, fangs glinting as they prowled the simulated arena.
Cher exhaled slowly, Gil raised his shield, Mana tightened her grip on the staff. Eric spun his spear nervously, sweat already beading on his forehead.
Above, Markus gave the order. "Subject one, test one… commence."
The beasts lunged.
After the training, the four staggered out to their quarters, drained of stamina but grinning despite their exhaustion, it had been days since they'd had a real fight, and the rush left them strangely refreshed.
Markus entered the isolation area, clipboard in hand, his expression unusually warm. "Congratulations," he said. "You pushed through to the eightieth subject on your first run."
Panting, Eric raised a shaky hand. "S… so… are we on the hall of fame?"
Markus blinked, then chuckled, he checked the terminal and scrolled through the records, a smile tugged at his lips. "By far, yes. In fact… you placed fourth overall."
Eric shot to his feet, nearly toppling over. "Only fourth? That's impossible! We've got the best of the best of the best! We have Cher with her unique awakening, Mana who I don't even know what she does half the time but she blasts enemies like nothing and me!" Gil protested, "Hey!"
Gil sighed and grabbed his arm and pulled him back down. "Calm down, champ, before you hurt yourself."
Markus ignored the bickering and studied the list again. "Third place goes to Commander Briggs's team, second to Hunter's squad, and first… Geist's team."
Eric bit his sleeve in frustration, muffling an angry groan. Gil sighed, already used to his antics.
"Geist," Markus continued, "he visited Karlea not long before the attack. Officially, he's known as Thunder Geist. People call him the prodigy of this generation, Briggs himself regarded him as both a close friend and his successor."
Eric crossed his arms and grunted. "What's so great about this guy anyway?"
Markus describes Geist's appearance, Cher realizes she has seen him before. She recalls how he once taught her sword fighting back in Karlea, his movements were precise and powerful, in that memory, she understands why he is regarded by their Commander.
Annisa's shield quivered under the relentless strikes, each blow ringing like thunder, cracks spiderwebbing across its surface. Her arms trembled, sweat streaking down her face as she forced herself to hold the barrier just a second longer.
Fran, with eyes glowing red and movements unnaturally violent, swung the sword down with the kind of power that once would've split mountains beside his comrades, not against them. Colt's fists, heavy as steel, slammed into the ground, shockwaves forcing Geist and Cael to stumble back.
"Dang it…" Geist's voice cracked, torn between anger and desperation.
Cael pressed his sleeve tighter over his mouth, his crimson eyes glowing faintly in response to the corruption saturating the air, Annisa gasped, her knees nearly giving out as the shield gave one last desperate shimmer. "I… I can't hold it anymore!"
Geist grit his teeth, his knuckles white as he gripped the hilt of his blade.