The silence after the chaos was the worst part.
The air still smelled of burnt metal and ozone. Cracked walls hummed faintly with leftover static from Lunaris's explosion—or whatever it was that saved us. Every time the lights flickered, I caught flashes of the destruction we'd barely survived.
And the screen. That damned screen.
Her face was still burned into my mind—Lunaris, faint and flickering, warning me through the static.
> "They're coming for you."
Even hours later, I couldn't shake it.
"Haruto." Celia's voice pulled me back. She stood in the doorway, her uniform torn, armor scorched, but her expression was steady—Commander-steady. "We're holding an emergency briefing. Move."
I swallowed the lump in my throat and followed her to the command center.
The others were already there. Rina had both arms wrapped in bandages but looked more annoyed than hurt. Liri sat cross-legged on a chair, eating what looked like a protein bar the size of her head. Mira was working on her tablet, eyes darting between data feeds, while Eira patched the comm systems with shaking hands.
The base was barely standing, and yet somehow, they all looked ready to fight again.
Celia stepped to the front of the room, her tone crisp and calm. "As of 0300 hours, we intercepted an external signal identical to the Lunaris Protocol's core frequency. The message included a warning… and a signature that matches the Aether archives."
Mira glanced up. "Meaning?"
Celia's eyes darkened. "It's the Aether Legion. The old weapons division from the pre-war era."
Rina whistled low. "Didn't they get wiped out decades ago?"
"That's what history says," Mira replied. "But apparently, history lies."
Celia projected a hologram on the central display. A dozen glowing figures appeared—humanoid shapes formed of pure light, each with a core pulsing in their chests. They looked… eerily similar to Lunaris.
"The Legion was the original experiment," Celia continued. "Lunaris was their prototype interface—a control unit meant to stabilize their power. If they're active again, it means someone reactivated the entire network."
"So they're coming here?" Eira asked, voice trembling slightly.
Celia nodded. "Their signal's moving toward our coordinates. ETA… six hours."
Silence fell.
Six hours.
We'd barely survived one unstable prototype, and now an entire legion was coming.
Rina cracked her knuckles. "Well, guess it's gonna be one of those days."
Celia ignored her tone. "Mira, assess our weapon stock and defense grid. Liri, reinforce the base's barrier field. Eira, finish patching communications and send distress signals to nearby outposts. Haruto…" She turned toward me. "You're coming with me."
"Uh, why me?"
She didn't answer—just motioned for me to follow.
We walked down a narrow corridor, past flickering lights and silent hallways. The base felt like a ghost ship. Finally, she stopped in front of a sealed door marked "Command Storage – Restricted Access."
"Override: Celia Isevel, code 07-Aurora."
The door slid open.
Inside was… a room full of old tech. Dusty terminals, inactive drones, and in the center—a massive crystal core pulsing faintly with blue light.
Celia crossed her arms. "This is the Heart of Arcadia. It's what keeps this base operational. It's also the same core that powers the resonance link between you and Lunaris."
I blinked. "Wait. This thing connected me to her?"
"Not directly," she said. "But it amplified the bond. It was designed to respond to people with high synchronization potential."
I stared at the glowing crystal. "You're saying… I was compatible with it before I even met Lunaris?"
Celia's eyes softened slightly. "It's more than that, Haruto. The system recognized you before I even input your name. It's like it was waiting for you."
That didn't make me feel any better.
She placed a hand on the crystal, her reflection flickering in its surface. "I don't know why Lunaris reached out to you, or why she's connected to this place, but if she's warning us… we can't ignore it."
I nodded slowly. "Then we fight."
A faint smile tugged at her lips. "Spoken like a soldier."
"More like someone who's really bad at running away."
She actually laughed at that—quietly, almost shyly. It was weirdly comforting, hearing her sound human for once.
But the moment passed quickly.
"Come on," she said, turning toward the door. "We've got work to do."
---
The next few hours were a blur of motion.
Rina and Mira handled the outer defenses, arguing the entire time.
> "No, Rina, you can't just fill the moat with lava!"
"Why not?! It's cool!"
"Because physics exists!"
Liri floated around the perimeter, chanting spells until her wings glowed bright gold. She left trails of light like fireflies as she worked.
Eira stayed glued to her screens, whispering calculations and sending out signal bursts every few minutes.
And me? Celia assigned me to "field synchronization testing," which basically meant sitting in front of that giant crystal while trying not to pass out.
"Again," Celia said, her voice steady from behind the observation glass.
I sighed and placed my hand on the core. "Resonance attempt number twelve. Commencing connection."
The crystal pulsed faintly—then flared bright blue. My heartbeat synced with it for a split second before everything went dark again.
"No response," Mira's voice came over the comms. "Signal interference from residual energy."
Celia frowned. "Keep trying."
I groaned. "You know, this would be easier if the thing didn't feel like it's trying to fry my brain."
"Then stop thinking so hard," Rina called over the intercom. "Not that you're good at it anyway!"
"Rina," Celia said flatly, "less commentary."
"Yes, Commander."
"Also, no lava."
"Ugh, fine."
Even through the exhaustion, their banter made it easier to breathe. We were scared—everyone was—but somehow, the noise helped. It reminded me that we were still alive.
After hours of preparation, the base began to feel less like a ruin and more like a fortress again. Shields flickered to life. Turrets rotated. Mira's drones hovered above the halls like metallic hawks.
For a moment, it almost looked hopeful.
Then Eira's voice came through the speakers. "Contact! I'm picking up multiple signatures on long-range radar—thirty, no, forty incoming units!"
Celia straightened instantly. "Confirm identification."
"It's them," Eira whispered. "Aether Legion."
The room went cold.
Rina grinned, cracking her neck. "Finally! I was getting bored."
Liri floated beside her, less enthusiastic. "You're the only one excited right now."
Celia's eyes hardened. "All units to battle positions. Mira, activate Phase Barrier. Eira, maintain comms at all costs. Haruto—stay near the Heart. If Lunaris tries to reach us again, you'll be the first to know."
I nodded, even though my stomach twisted. "Got it."
The ground began to shake. Faint tremors at first, then stronger. Outside, through the cracked viewports, I saw streaks of blue light descending from the sky like meteors.
Rina whistled. "Well, they sure know how to make an entrance."
Mira adjusted her visor. "Incoming energy readings spiking. Impact in twenty seconds."
Celia drew her blade, the steel gleaming under the emergency lights. "Hold the line."
The first explosion hit like thunder.
The base shook violently. Dust rained from the ceiling. Outside, a blinding flash lit up the horizon as the first wave landed—humanoid constructs of glowing metal and energy, marching in perfect formation.
They moved with precision, silent and terrifying.
Rina roared, slamming her gauntlets together. "All right, tin cans! Let's dance!"
The battle sirens screamed to life.
I could see them now—dozens of Aether constructs swarming across the plains toward us. The air shimmered with heat and light.
Celia raised her sword. "All units, engage!"
Mira's drones launched from the walls, firing beams into the advancing horde. Liri's barrier flared, deflecting the first barrage of energy blasts. Rina charged forward, fire trailing behind her like a comet.
The clash was deafening—metal on magic, light against flame.
I stayed by the core, hands trembling, watching through the main screen as chaos unfolded. Every time Celia's blade met an enemy strike, I felt the resonance in my chest pulse harder.
Then—something changed.
The Heart of Arcadia began to glow again, faint at first, then brighter. The pulse matched mine perfectly.
And through the hum of battle, a voice whispered—soft, familiar.
> "Haruto…"
My blood ran cold. "Lunaris?"
> "They're not alone."
"What—?"
Before I could finish, the entire base shook violently. The lights flickered red.
Mira's voice came through the comms, sharp and panicked. "New signal detected—massive energy surge inbound!"
Celia shouted from the field. "What's the source?!"
But I already knew.
I looked at the crystal, its glow turning from blue to white-hot.
And then, in the reflection, I saw her—Lunaris—standing behind me.
Smiling.
> "I told you, Haruto. They're coming for you."
The crystal cracked—light pouring out like blood.
Outside, the sky tore open.
---
> To be continued in Chapter 9: "The White Sky and the Return of the Goddess."