"Behemoth, 8 o'clock…"
Immediately after, the sirens blared loudly on all airships, with the soldiers in the ruins being alerted over radio.
Masuyama observed the systems blaring warnings and calculations with an unwavering cold glare, his eyes drifting from the behemoth slowly approaching—to the screen displaying error messages.
"Anomaly detected, recalibrating…"
"Error."
"Recalibrating."
Masuyama clicked his tongue as he narrowed his eyes—focusing his sights onto the behemoth.
The other officers in the control room scrambled, adjusting the systems and setting up data.
"Recalibrating… Essence Signature exceeding Category 3."
Masuyama did not avert his eyes, scanning the behemoth like a hawk. He felt like something was up. It can't be a mere category 3.
"Recalibration Error! Recalibrating…"
He clicked his tongue again, tapping the sole of his shoe on the floor. He was right, and his gut did not fail him.
"WARNING! ESSENCE SIGNATURE EXCEEDING CATEGORY 4!"
Masuyama's tapping froze. The room fell silent. So quiet that you could hear a pen drop. So quiet that you could suffocate.
Then the detection system blared loudly along with other units and panels—all screaming.
"Estimated distance: 36000 yards."
"Attaining Visuals… Error! Visual information unavailable."
"Estimated Travel speed: 79-82kph"
The officers lost their composure. That was roughly thirty minutes away. Thirty minutes—not nearly enough time to brace for the inevitable.
"Rear-Admiral Masuyama! Our situation is critical! What is our next move?!" One of the officers demanded, beads of sweat dripping from his face.
Masuyama did not answer straight away. He continued to stare at the behemoth; his eyes fixated on its form. But his face did not flicker even a hint of fear.
One officer, standing stiff behind him, caught a subtle shift in Masuyama's face—his lips curling into a grin. Not fear. Not excitement. Something far worse.
After all, what he felt was not fear, it was something different—Something far worse.
"Oi, Gan, don't you think it's time to hurry back now?" Maximillius said bluntly, kicking his feet on the rocks—his eyes drifting across the hallway.
Gan suddenly perked up in excitement, his eyes glinting in satisfaction as he held two rings in his hands.
"Oh?"
Maximillius was curious now. He moved closer to inspect the rings—feeling their power just by gazing upon them. It felt mesmerising.
Maximillius then moved away, his hands wandering in his pockets.
"I feel like you ignored my question." He muttered blankly, staring up at the ceiling.
Gan looked over his shoulder, realising his rudeness. "Eh? Oh, my bad… and yes, its time to head back now, that behemoth is probably close by now." Gan pushed off his knees, standing tall as he pats the dust off his armour.
"Well… it probably isn't… they don't move that fast… I think?" Maximillius mumbled, tilting his head as he thought about it. "Nah. Too much thinking.?
Gan just shrugged it off. "Heh, well, lets get these bad boys analysed! Come on!" Gan took off, sprinting into the darkness.
Maximillius sighed, sticking a lollipop into his mouth as he spoke. "Righty-o."
He then bolted off, following closely behind Gan.
Somewhere in the ruins, someone was having trouble finding a way out.
"I'm listening to your directions and now we're even more lost!" Mikado yelled at the top of his lungs like a madman.
"I swear there was a passageway that led out! Trust me on that!" Saku replied, a tone of uncertainty betraying its message.
Mikado pinched the bridge of his nose, unconvinced. "And where is it? It couldn't just grow legs and run away now, can it?" He spoke firmly, eyebrows turned in frustration.
Saku scoffed. "Actually, it can."
The hallway froze.
"W-wait… what?" Mikado looked baffled and concerned upon hearing that information. He looked unprepared to fight a walking… passageway. No one would be.
Saku snorted, unable to contain its laughter before he cracked up laughing hysterically. "Man… I didn't know that you'd have to fight gullible the hallway behemoth!"
Mikado's face twisted as he slowly turned his head towards the ring. "Are you saying that it was just some stupid joke…?" Mikado asked, his voice low but fierce, like a sleeping volcano.
Saku could only chuckle, replying in a mocking tone. "Yeah, it was. I can't believe you fell for it! You definitely have a sign that says, 'I trust all,' hung on your bed frame!"
Mikado did not reply. Instead, his nails began to dig into his palms.
Saku's laughter died down, buried by a suffocating aura. "H-hey… why are you looking at me like that?"
"Oh, I wonder why." Mikado replied in a whisper, just like how death would tell you a joke before it took your soul.
Back on the fleet, chaos and panic had overrun order. Soldiers scrambled to the artillery, carrying ammunition, with warning sirens screaming in the background. Despite all the ruckus, none of it bothered Gan or Maximillius who were in the study halls—analysing the two rings they had discovered earlier.
"Hey, hey, hurry and turn on the machine already." Maximillius spoke impatiently, something rare for even him.
"Just give me a second." Gan carefully held the first ring between his fingers, letting the faint hum of essence pulse against his palm. He tilted it toward the light, observing how it refracted—not like normal metal, but like it was bending reality itself.
"Don't just stare at it like it's a loaf of bread," Maximillius muttered, tapping the controls of the analysis machine. Sparks of impatience flickered in his usually calm gaze. "If it doesn't activate properly, we won't know what we're dealing with."
Gan finally set the ring onto the platform. The machine whirred and clicked, lights dancing along its surface. A low vibration resonated through the room as the ring pulsed in sync with the machinery. Maximillius leaned closer, eyebrows raised.
The machine beeped, displaying a message:
"Analysis complete: Ring of Firepower III.
Rarity: Uncommon.
Type: Attacker Ring"
Gan's grin widened until it almost split his face. "Uncommon? HA! That's insane! This is going to make the cannon fire absolutely ridiculous!"
He jumped slightly, spinning the ring in his fingers like a prize. "Do you know what this means? Full salvo with minimal cooldown, insane accuracy… I could—"
Maximillius waved a hand, uninterested, leaning back against the table. "Cool… for you. But it's not my problem. I'm more curious about the other one."
Gan froze, a bead of sweat forming on his brow. "…You mean the second ring?" He carefully picked it up, examining it under the light. Unlike the first, it hummed differently—subtle, more quiet, like it was measuring him rather than merely amplifying firepower.
"Put it on the platform," Maximillius instructed, his tone calm but sharp. "Let's see what it wants us to know."
The machine whirred again, this time reacting violently—lights flickering, alarms soft but urgent. The ring's pulse resonated through the room; unlike anything Gan had felt before. The projection formed above the platform, not a simple hologram, but a slowly swirling field of pure essence, bending and stretching the air itself.
Maximillius's eyes narrowed. "Oi… this might be good."
The machine coughed, beeping multiple times before finally displaying the message:
"Analysis complete: Ring of Lollipop Boost.
Rarity: Rare.
Type: Transformation Ring."
Then it beeped again.
"This artefact is 'unusual,' would you like a deeper analysis?"
Gan and Maximillius stood frozen. This was the most absurd type of ring that they've ever heard.
"…Yes please."
The machine's lights flickered again, settling into a rhythm as if it were hesitant to explain itself. A soft, metallic voice filled the room:
"Deeper analysis initiated. Ring effect: dependent on external variable—lollipop colour. Upon wearing the ring, user gains physical stat enhancement corresponding to the lollipop present in the mouth at activation."
Gan's lips curled downwards. He glanced at Maximillius who casually sucked on his lollipop, then back at the machine.
"…What?"
Gan's jaw dropped, his fingers tightening around the first ring. "…So… you're telling me—depending on what candy someone has in their mouth, this ring actually changes their stats?"
The machine's metallic hum deepened, like it was trying not to laugh. "Correct. Red: increased physical strength. Blue: increased speed. Yellow: enhanced reflexes. Green: enhanced stamina. Other colours: effects unknown, variable risk."
Gan's eyes widened as they drifted toward Maximillius, who, oblivious to the analysis, was casually sucking on a blue lollipop.
"…Wait a second… you've got a blue one in there," Gan muttered under his breath, staring at him like he'd just realised the sky was falling.
Maximillius tilted his head, calm as ever. "Yes?" He drew the lollipop from his mouth slowly, his gaze unwavering. "What's your point?"
Gan waved a hand frantically. "…The ring… it's reacting to that. You're literally holding the power to boost speed in your mouth right now! You could literally run laps around the fleet before anyone even notices!"
Maximillius raised an eyebrow. "…And? That's… cute, but I don't see how that helps me."
The machine beeped again, projecting an animated diagram showing a miniature figure accelerating with blue streaks across a platform.
"Physical stat enhancement applied upon ring activation. Effect magnitude dependent on user's innate skill level and essence output. Trial recommended."
Gan groaned, facepalming hard enough to almost drop the first ring. "This is insane! You have to try it! You'll be unstoppable!"
Maximillius exhaled softly, unconvinced. "Unstoppable? Please. That's a gimmick. A neat parlour trick. There's no way it's that simple."
Gan gritted his teeth, stepping closer. "…There's only one way to find out." He nudged Maximillius toward the platform.
Maximillius sighed, muttering as he did so. "I feel like the universe is conspiring to humiliate me right now…"
Gan's grin split his face again. "…Yes! Finally, a little test subject for science!"
The machine whirred, lights dancing along its panels as it awaited activation. Maximillius reluctantly placed the second ring onto his finger, the blue lollipop still between his teeth.
The room held its breath.
A pulse of essence shot from the ring, and instantly, Maximillius's body blurred, movements faster than Gan's eyes could follow. He tapped the table lightly, and a chair slid across the floor with the force of a battering ram.
Gan staggered back, eyes wide. "…Okay… maybe this isn't a parlour trick."
Maximillius paused mid-step, looking down at his hands, expression still calm—but now tinged with something else: recognition of the danger. "…I swear, if this thing falls into the wrong hands…"
Gan laughed maniacally, unable to stop himself. "Imagine what I could do with this and the firepower ring together!"
Maximillius scoffed. "Tch, don't even."
The machine chimed softly, a warning tone now layered beneath the excitement. "Note: combined usage with other rings may amplify effects unpredictably. User discretion advised."
Maximillius's jaw tightened ever so slightly. "…Good way to say it's a bad idea."
Gan's grin widened even further, eyes glinting like a man who had just been handed a flamethrower and a jetpack at the same time. "…Oh, it's definitely going to get glorious."
Suddenly, the room shook slightly as a series of harsh, piercing sirens cut through the air—the real alarms this time.
Gan's laughter died mid-chuckle, and he looked toward the window, eyes wide.
"…That's not the candy ring alarm, is it?" he muttered.
Maximillius had already slipped the second ring into his pocket, his calm expression returning as he strode toward the exit.
"Doesn't matter. Time to see what's really happening."
The two bolted through the corridors, the echoes of their boots mingling with the distant chaos outside. Through reinforced glass, the scale of the panic became clear: soldiers sprinted to artillery, carrying shells like lifelines, and warning sirens screamed across the entire fleet.
High above, aboard the flagship, Rear-Admiral Masuyama remained a cold, unflinching figure in the command room. The monitors flickered red with incoming data, but he barely glanced at them, eyes fixed on the horizon where the approaching behemoth loomed like a storm incarnate.
"Sir," a voice called sharply. "We're approaching critical distance! Orders?"
Masuyama's gaze didn't waver. "Prepare Prototype X. Activate the final calibrations."
From behind him, the crew stiffened at the mention. A newcomer's voice cut through, calm and analytical: "Prototype X? Are you certain, Rear-Admiral? Deployment at this stage carries… significant risk."
A tall, serious man stepped forward: Pistolis Abraham, captain of the Flying Beauty. His posture was rigid, every movement precise, eyes calculating every possibility. "I've analysed the projections. There are alternatives that don't involve full-scale weapon activation."
Masuyama finally glanced at him, lips curling slightly. "And yet, alternatives may not suffice. The enemy is already ten thousand yards away. Time is a luxury we don't have."
Near the flight deck, two pilots prepared for launch. Magnus Mustang, sleek and confident, ran his hands over the controls, a faint smirk playing across his face.
"Honestly, the way I see it, chaos or calm, I'm ready. Let's see what this thing can do."
Next to him, Miyuki Kokoro, chief pilot commander, tapped the console impatiently, frowning with barely concealed irritation. Her voice carried the sharp edge of someone who expected discipline above all else.
"Magnus, please refrain from theatrics. You must be focused and precise. That is your only value out there."
A crackle came over the radio: a playful, smooth voice, filled with confidence and charm. Hielo Elian, scout pilot, sounded impossibly casual.
"Looks like you guys are taking forever. Don't keep me waiting—I've got the perfect vantage point already."
Masuyama's voice cut over the comms, steady and commanding. "All units report readiness. Prototype X calibration at ninety-seven percent. Warning: final activation parameters are experimental. Approval required from all captains."
Abraham crossed his arms, voice sharp. "I cannot approve deployment at this stage, Masuyama. There are too many unknowns."
Magnus leaned against the cockpit hatch, shrugging lightly. "Sometimes you just gotta roll the dice, right?"
Miyuki shot him a glare sharp enough to cut steel. "Sometimes, you roll the dice and get everyone killed."
Masuyama's eyes narrowed. "Men, and women… we do not have the luxury of hesitation. Prepare Prototype X for launch. I will not allow the fleet to gamble with timing or delay."
Outside, the storm of chaos and the distant shadow of the Category 5 loomed ever closer, a force that would push every plan—and every pilot—to the edge.