Inside, the command tent buzzed with static and the low hum of field equipment.Theresa stood straight before a flickering holo-display, her uniform still torn from the evacuation. The console's light painted sharp angles across her face.
After a moment, the transmission connected.
Otto Apocalypse appeared — immaculate, patient, and smiling in that familiar way that never reached his eyes.
"My dear granddaughter," he said, voice smooth as silk. "You seem well, considering the state of your surroundings."
Theresa's salute was precise. "Field report, Grandfather. Babylon Labs has been completely destroyed. Cause — structural collapse following Honkai escalation. Containment failed."
"A pity," Otto mused. "So much knowledge lost."
Theresa's jaw tightened, but she continued. "Survivors were minimal. We've established a temporary camp for the displaced personnel."
"And the experiment?"
Theresa hesitated only a fraction. "Designation F-315 — Florence. She survived direct exposure to high-level Honkai energy and generated a neutralizing field that shielded others nearby."
"How fortunate," Otto murmured, leaning forward with visible interest. "That ability sounds… familiar. What do you know of her?"
"She was held as a test subject," Theresa said evenly. "Records are incomplete. Her physiology shows similarities to Schariac bloodline markers — but the response is stronger, unpredictable."
"Ah… Schariac," Otto repeated, as though tasting the name. "A bloodline of grace and ruin. Cecilia is proof of that. Perhaps this girl is another."
Theresa's expression darkened. "She's a person, Grandfather. Not another project."
"All life is a project of the divine, child. I merely study the results."
Theresa's voice sharpened. "You'll get my written report. That's all."
Otto's smile thinned. "Defiance becomes you, Theresa. But remember who gave you the power to stand where you do."
The connection snapped off before she could answer. The console dimmed. The tent was silent except for the steady beat of the generator.
Theresa exhaled slowly. Then she turned and stepped outside.
The cold bit through her gloves. The wind carried the scent of frost and fuel. Soldiers moved between tents like ghosts in white coats.
At the edge of the camp, Florence sat by a burning barrel, a blanket draped around her shoulders. The flickering firelight painted her eyes with soft gold.
Theresa walked over quietly. "You should be inside."
Florence looked up. "Too quiet in there." She gestured toward the flames. "This feels more honest."
Theresa folded her arms. "You've been restless since I left the tent."
"Wouldn't you be?" Florence said. "Half the people here keep staring like I'm contagious, and the other half like I'm a miracle. I don't know which is worse."
Theresa sat on the overturned crate beside her. "Probably both."
That earned a small smile.
For a moment, neither spoke. The fire popped, sending a few sparks into the snow.
"Your grandfather, huh?" Florence said finally. "The one who runs all this?"
Theresa nodded once.
"He doesn't sound like much of a family man."
"He isn't," Theresa said quietly. "He's a visionary. The kind that forgets people exist between his goals."
Florence leaned back, watching her breath curl in the cold. "Sounds familiar."
Theresa gave her a sideways glance. "You said something earlier — about people treating you like a miracle. You understand why, don't you?"
"I'm not sure I want to."
"You neutralized Honkai energy that should've killed everyone near you. That's not luck."
Florence's hands tightened around the blanket. "You're saying it's blood. That name you mentioned earlier — Schariac."
Theresa nodded slowly. "It's a family known for its Holy Blood — a rare lineage capable of purifying Honkai corruption. Cecilia Schariac carries it stronger than anyone I've ever seen."
"Cecilia," Florence repeated, unfamiliar with the name. "A friend of yours?"
Theresa's eyes softened, though her posture remained rigid. "More than that. She's my mentor. My family, in a way."
Florence looked away. "You sound worried."
"She's on the northern front," Theresa said. "The situation there is worsening. Schicksal's sending me to reinforce her position."
Florence frowned. "You're leaving."
Theresa nodded. "Orders."
Florence gave a humorless laugh. "Of course it's orders."
Theresa reached into her coat and pulled out a small communicator. She pressed it into Florence's palm. "If anyone tries to move you, or ask questions you don't like, call me. I'll answer if I can."
Florence stared at the device, then at her. "And if you can't?"
"Then don't wait for permission."
That drew a small grin from Florence. "Now that's the kind of advice I can work with."
Theresa stood. "Stay here. Rest. I'll be back when the skies stop burning."
Florence tilted her head, the faintest spark of sincerity hiding beneath her sarcasm. "That a promise?"
Theresa's gaze met hers — steady, unwavering. "It's what family does."
Then she turned and walked toward the transport waiting at the edge of camp. The engines howled against the wind, sending ribbons of snow twisting around her boots.
Florence watched until the aircraft vanished into the gray.She looked down at the communicator in her hand — its tiny light blinking like a heartbeat.
"Family, huh?" she murmured. "That's new."
The snow began to fall again, soft and silent.And somewhere beyond the horizon, the storm waited — the one that would decide who lived to see the next dawn.