Chapter 66: Departure of the Founders
The Phantom didn't just lift; it breathed.
As the repulsor-lifts hummed to life, a heavy, expectant silence fell over the dozens of souls standing on the lower tiers. Between the original Detroia orphans and the refugees rescued from the frontier, our family had grown, but in the echoing vastness of the cathedral, they stood with the disciplined presence of an army. These were people who had known only chains and fear until the "Obsidian Ghosts" had descended to break their locks. To them, the sleek, shark-like vessel wasn't just a ship—it was the physical embodiment of the freedom they now guarded.
Nero stood at the top of the ramp, his hand resting on the Soul-Steel frame of the airlock. Beside him, Aria looked out at the gathered faces. Bee stood right behind them, his massive twelve-foot frame humming as his golden armor caught the bioluminescent glow of the cavern. There was no question of him staying; wherever the Founders went, the heavy artillery followed.
The First Fangs stood at the very front. They were the originals—the first ones we had pulled from the fire, and the only ones who would ever carry that title. They were split now into their respective commands, representing the two pillars of Moonveil's strength.
Elara stood at the head of the Wild Pack, her hand resting on the flank of her Falcon Anima frame. She led the beast-riders and the Beast Titan frames, the scouts who would claim the forests and canyons of the Expanse. Beside her, Jax stood at the head of the Ronin of the Shogunate. This was the knightly branch—composed of Jax, the sentient SDG frames, and the older rescued refugees who had spent the last six months adjusting to the weight of Soul-Steel. They were the mountain's blade, disciplined and unyielding.
Then, the silence shattered.
From the Starboard Hangar of the Phantom, a sound erupted that rattled the very crystal pillars of the mountain. The Liger Zero Jager threw its head back, its roar a terrifying mix of predatory beast and high-frequency sonic cannon. A second later, the Shadow Fox Mirage joined in, its ghostly, yapping howl vibrating through the hull.
The Pack staying behind answered in kind.
The Wild Frames of the students erupted. The Falcon screeched, the Lion roared, and the Nine-Tails Fox let out a haunting, spatial chime. It was a primal, mechanical symphony—the language of the Pack saying goodbye to its Alphas. Fenris stood near the ramp, his silver ears flattened as he let out a long, mournful howl that transitioned into a sharp, metallic bark of command. He would remain as the final line of defense for the nursery.
"Look at them," Aria whispered, her eyes shining.
High above on the Aegis Rails, the older students kicked off. Dozens of kids blurred into motion, their Air-Treck skates leaving brilliant, neon streaks of sapphire and violet light against the dark cavern ceiling. They circled the Phantom like a glowing, kinetic halo, their trails weaving a tapestry of light that guided the ship toward the exit.
Nero looked down at Jax and Elara, then to the Masters standing behind them: Mistress Vael, Master Elias, the Matron, and Vander.
"The mountain belongs to the Pack now," Nero's voice broadcasted through the resonance speakers. "Atlas has command of the systems. The Masters have command of the training. Jax, Elara—lead your branches well. Defend this home with everything you are."
Jax and Elara offered a sharp, synchronized salute. Nero stepped back into the cockpit, and the ramp hissed shut, sealing the world of the mountain away. Bee locked himself into his heavy-duty magnetic clamps in the main hold, his optics glowing a steady, ready yellow.
Inside, the bridge was a different world—quiet, pressurized, and smelling of fresh Soul-Steel. Navigator's holographic green form flickered into existence.
"Initiating Shroud-Bypass," Navigator chirped. "All systems green. Lyric is hot in the Redline; Crimson is monitoring the GM-Drive from the Tumbler."
As the Phantom glided forward, passing through the massive stone iris of the mountain's main gate, the deep, resonant voice of Atlas filled the bridge.
"COMMAND TO PHANTOM," Atlas boomed. "THE SHROUD IS OPEN. THE WATCH IS SET. MOONVEIL HOLLOW WILL STAND UNTIL YOUR RETURN. GOOD HUNTING, ARCHITECTS."
Nero gripped the controls, feeling the raw power of his Thunderheart core flow into the ship. With a sudden, violent surge of acceleration, the Phantom didn't just fly—it vanished. A massive sonic boom shattered the air of the basin, and a ripple of pinkish-red particles washed over the forest as the ship engaged its initial Trans-Am burst.
Moonveil Hollow was now a fading speck in the rearview. The Founders were officially out in the world.