"Welcome to Section 17."
Even though Celeste was speaking, neither Sylvia nor Ethan paid her any attention. Their eyes were fixed on the towering city before them.
It was breathtaking—beautiful, yet ruthlessly efficient. Massive towers stretched endlessly into the sky, each one a testament to humanity's desperation and ingenuity. With land at a premium, buildings rose to a minimum of one hundred floors, their vertical sprawl dominating the skyline.
Rails crisscrossed between structures, sleek cars sped along designated paths, and various aircraft zipped through the air at incredible speeds. Everything moved with purpose. Everything moved fast.
On the ground level, pedestrians filled the streets. Some examined shop displays, others walked leisurely, savoring what little peace they could find amidst the chaos. It almost looked like a normal city—alive, vibrant, human.
"I thought you said there wasn't much besides fighting," Sylvia finally said, turning to Celeste.
"Believe it or not," Celeste replied, "all of this is dedicated toward combat."
Sylvia blinked.
In order to ensure that as many humans as possible could fight, entire teams were devoted to optimizing and refining the cities. Every structure, every system, every design choice served a singular purpose: war readiness.
Each city was carefully constructed with subtle details that conditioned its inhabitants—keeping them alert, efficient, and prepared to fight at any moment. Beneath its lively surface lay a cold, calculated intent.
"Also," Celeste continued, "when it comes to force release, it usually depends on two things—talent and will."
Humanity's greatest weapon against the khaerix was the kairos. And the strength of a kairos was directly tied to how much force release its pilot could achieve.
There had been attempts to artificially enhance this capability—or even replace human pilots entirely with AI—but every effort had failed.
It wasn't that humanity hadn't tried to rely on machines.
It simply didn't work.
The early stages of the war had proven that much.
And more than that—
'A war for humanity ought to be fought by humans.'
That belief had been carved into history by the countless war heroes who gave their lives. Without their sacrifices, humanity wouldn't have lasted even a decade.
"Anyways, it's time to relax!" Celeste suddenly declared, pumping her fist before sprinting into a nearby building.
Sylvia and Ethan exchanged a brief glance. Then, smiling, they ran after her.
…
"That was fun."
Their first stop had been a clothing store.
Although they already had something to wear, Celeste had taken one look at their outfits and immediately dismissed them as "trash"—completely unacceptable for public appearance.
'I still don't see what was so wrong with it,' Sylvia thought.
It wasn't like they were wearing the clothes from the island. These had been provided to them before they left—clean, functional, and perfectly usable.
Apparently, that wasn't enough.
Now, Sylvia stood dressed in a white blouse paired with a pale blue skirt. Her hair had been neatly tied back into a ponytail, giving her a fresh, refined appearance.
Ethan stared at her for a moment.
After months of seeing his sister dress in a way that often ended with her discarding her clothes entirely, he came to a firm conclusion.
"Celeste," he said seriously, "we need to get about a hundred and fifty more outfits."
Celeste's face lit up instantly.
"Why stop there?" she replied with a grin. "We might as well empty the entire store."
At that moment, an unspoken bond formed between them—a silent agreement to turn Sylvia into nothing less than a perfectly dressed doll.
Sylvia let out a quiet sigh and shifted her gaze to Ethan.
If her outfit leaned toward lighter tones, his was the complete opposite.
He wore a dark-blue collared shirt paired with black trousers. It was simple, understated—but undeniably effective. Combined with his recent haircut, it gave him a sharp, composed look.
"So," Sylvia said, "why did you come here?"
Shopping was fine, but she hadn't forgotten their situation. There had to be a reason for this stop.
"You do remember that I'm one of the most important people in the entire nation, right?" Celeste asked.
Sylvia nodded.
"Well, the reason I was at the wall was to collect some information," Celeste explained. "Section 17 is the closest city, so I stopped here to deliver it before we head to the academy."
"Academy?"
"Yeah. The one I mentioned before," Celeste replied. "Its location is still classified, so I'll have to take you there myself. And the trip will probably take some time."
Celeste had originally considered delaying things a bit—but that plan had changed.
News had arrived early that morning.
…
"Celeste! How are you doing, my darling!?"
The voice burst through the monitor, loud and overly cheerful.
Celeste wasn't asleep, but being greeted with that level of energy so early in the day was enough to irritate anyone. For a brief moment, she considered cutting the call entirely.
But the person on the other end technically outranked her.
'And she wouldn't call for no reason.'
"I'm giving you five seconds," Celeste said coldly, already beginning a countdown.
"I heard you picked up some interesting kids the other day. And Jonas is dead."
The woman grinned as she spoke.
Jenna Kyles.
The Supreme Commander of Humanity's Forces—and, technically, Celeste's superior.
She oversaw everything related to the military and armed forces. Only two entities rivaled her authority: the World President and the Council.
Jenna had dirty blonde hair and wore a black eyepatch over her left eye. Celeste had often suggested healing it, but Jenna always refused, insisting it was a mark of honor.
More importantly—
"Who did you hear that from?" Celeste asked sharply.
"Jerry told me!" Jenna replied, laughing. "Said something about giving you a vacation. Can you imagine that?"
Celeste's expression darkened.
'I'll make sure to mix something into his food.'
Somewhere else, Jeremiah suddenly sneezed. A chill ran down his spine, prompting him to glance around before turning up the heating.
"I want to see them," Jenna continued. "And it looks like we might be moving the program forward."
"Why?" Celeste asked.
"Those old foggies in the Council are trying to take control of the project," Jenna said with a scowl. "If only we could feed them to the khaerix."
The Council had been formed during the early days of the invasion—an alliance of the world's remaining leaders, meant to ensure every faction had a voice.
Over time, however, it had become something else entirely.
Corrupt. Self-serving. Detached from the people they were meant to represent.
Now, humanity's political structure stood divided.
The Supreme Commander on one side.
The Council on the other.
And the World President caught in the middle.
It hadn't escalated into outright conflict—but the tension was undeniable. Each faction constantly kept the others in check, preventing any single one from gaining absolute control.
It maintained balance.
But it didn't improve anything.
"Which is why I decided to move things forward," Jenna said. "We need to finish this as quickly as possible."