Morning came, but it didn't feel like it.
The sun should've risen in the east. Instead, the sky turned white — not pale blue, not cloudy, just white, like someone erased it with a giant brush and forgot to fill in the color again.
After what happened last night, I didn't think I'd ever sleep again. Turns out, I was right.
I sat on the ramparts of what was left of Arcadia Base, boots dangling off the ledge, looking down at the sea of smoke and debris. Rina was below, shouting orders at repair crews that clearly weren't listening. Mira was taking inventory of every bullet we didn't have. Celia was somewhere inside the command center, arguing with high command.
We'd survived. Barely.
But something about the way the Legion retreated… didn't feel right.
They didn't flee — they withdrew. Like chess pieces moving back into place for the next move.
And that sky… that blank, unnatural sky… it was staring back.
---
> "Still alive, huh?"
Rina's voice broke through my thoughts. She climbed up the rubble pile and flopped down next to me, wiping grease off her hands with a rag that was somehow dirtier than her hands.
> "Barely," I said. "You look worse."
> "Thanks. That's how you talk to a woman who saved your sorry butt like fifty times last night?"
> "I lost count after ten."
She grinned. "You're improving. Yesterday you'd have said two."
For a moment, we just sat there — the smell of smoke and ozone filling the air, the faint hum of Arcadia's damaged shield generators trying to wake back up.
> "Hey," she said, nudging me. "You feel that?"
> "Feel what?"
> "Like… buzzing."
I frowned. "You mean the generators?"
> "No. Not outside. In here." She tapped her chest.
I froze. Because I felt it too — that faint hum under the skin, rhythmic, alive. The same resonance that had nearly torn me apart during the battle.
> "It's getting stronger," I said quietly.
> "Yeah. Guess that means you're special, huh?"
> "If by 'special' you mean cursed, sure."
She laughed, but there was no humor in it. "You're not wrong."
---
The day passed in silence — if you can call the sound of welding torches, crumbling walls, and half-panicked engineers "silence."
By afternoon, Celia called us in for briefing.
She stood at the front of the ruined command room, still in her battered uniform, hair tied up messily — a sign she was running on caffeine and sheer willpower.
> "All right," she began, "status reports. Mira?"
> "Outer defense perimeter: non-functional. Shield generators: 40% capacity. Ammunition: approximately enough for a pillow fight."
> "Rina?"
> "Working on repairs, but we'll need new cores. Unless you want me to patch the shield grid with duct tape and positive thinking."
> "That's plan B," Celia deadpanned. "Eira?"
The young medic looked up from her tablet, eyes tired but focused.
> "Casualties are being stabilized. Everyone's asking the same question, though."
> "Which is?"
> "Why the Legion stopped attacking."
Celia didn't answer right away. She just looked at the holographic screen flickering behind her — a map of the surrounding area. Above it, faint static lines rippled like interference.
> "We don't know," she said finally. "But the Aether readings are rising again. Whatever this is… it's not over."
---
That's when the alarms went off.
A low, droning wail — not urgent like before, but deeper, almost… mournful.
The ceiling lights flickered. Every screen went white. And then, the static on the map stabilized — forming a single, enormous symbol.
A crescent moon surrounded by radiating lines.
Rina blinked. "Uh… that's new."
Mira stepped closer. "No. That's not new. That's ancient. Pre-Fall era Aether script."
> "Translation?" I asked.
> "Roughly… 'The Return of Light.'"
Before any of us could react, the entire room started shaking.
Outside, the clouds broke apart — not from wind, but from light. A pillar of white fire tore across the sky, spreading outward until the entire horizon glowed.
For a second, it was beautiful.
Then came the voice.
Soft. Cold. Familiar.
"Haruto."
It wasn't through the speakers. It wasn't through comms. It was in my head.
The resonance inside me surged like lightning. My knees buckled.
Celia grabbed my shoulder. "Haruto! What's happening?"
> "She's here…" I breathed. "Lunaris."
---
The world went silent.
Every machine in Arcadia shut down. Every light died. Even sound itself seemed to vanish — the kind of silence that makes you realize how fragile reality is.
And then I saw it.
Through the clouds, descending like a slow sunrise, came a figure made of light.
Human in shape, divine in presence.
Long silver hair flowing like liquid starlight, golden eyes calm and endless.
Lunaris.
The goddess of resonance.
The one from my dreams.
The one I apparently once followed.
> "You have got to be kidding me," Rina whispered. "That's her?"
> "She's real," Eira murmured, trembling. "She's actually real."
Mira's jaw tightened. "Haruto, stay back. Her energy output is beyond measurable limits."
I couldn't move even if I wanted to.
Because as she descended, I realized — she wasn't just looking at me. She was calling me.
---
Her voice filled the air, resonating through every cell in my body.
"My child of echo. My lost star. You have wandered too long among the blind."
I wanted to shout, to deny it, but the words stuck in my throat.
"Do you not remember? You who bore the weapon of genesis, who silenced the sky for me?"
Images flashed behind my eyes — battles I'd never fought, cities burning in silver fire, Lunaris standing beside me, smiling as the world fell apart.
I staggered backward. "No. No, that's not— that can't be real!"
> "Haruto!" Celia's voice cut through the haze. "Focus on me! Don't listen to her!"
> "You don't understand!" I gasped. "She's inside my head!"
Rina grabbed her cannon. "Well, maybe I can get her out of it!"
> "Rina, wait—"
Too late. She fired.
The explosion lit up the entire sky — but the light didn't even touch Lunaris. It curved around her, like space itself refused to harm her.
The goddess's gaze shifted toward Rina. For a moment, the air itself seemed to bend under the weight of her attention.
> "Mortal flame," Lunaris whispered. "So noisy."
A shockwave of light rippled outward. Rina flew back, crashing into a pile of debris.
> "Rina!" I shouted, rushing toward her. She groaned, waving me off.
> "Ow… okay… she hits harder than she looks."
---
Celia drew her sword — cracked from the last battle but still burning faintly with Aether energy.
> "Squad A, formation! Don't let her advance!"
Lunaris floated down, her feet never touching the ground.
> "You think to stand against me? Against the light you once begged for?"
Celia didn't answer. She lunged — fast enough that even the air screamed. Her blade met Lunaris's radiance and shattered on contact.
The impact sent Celia flying backward, landing hard.
I ran toward her, grabbing her arm. "Celia, stop! You'll get yourself killed!"
She looked up at me, breath ragged. "Then tell me how to stop her!"
"I— I don't know!"
> "You do!" she shouted. "You just don't remember yet!"
---
The resonance inside me was a storm now — violent, deafening. My vision blurred.
Lunaris extended her hand. A circle of light formed beneath her — vast, intricate, alive.
"Return to me, Haruto. Your purpose is not over. The weapon sleeps inside you, but I can awaken it."
Her light touched me, and for a heartbeat, I saw it — not Arcadia, not this broken world, but the other one. The one before.
I saw myself standing beside her in armor of pure Aether, holding a blade of light that split the sky.
I saw her smiling — not with love, but ownership.
And I saw the world burn.
I screamed, falling to my knees. "Stop it! Get out of my head!"
"You are mine," she said softly. "You always were."
---
Celia grabbed me, shaking me hard.
> "Haruto! Look at me!"
Her voice cut through the noise — grounding me.
> "You're not her weapon. You're you."
Something inside me snapped back into place.
The resonance flared — but this time, it wasn't her power. It was mine.
Blue light erupted around me, brighter and sharper than before. Lunaris's radiance wavered for the first time.
She blinked — not in surprise, but curiosity.
> "So the seed awakens again."
The ground cracked. The sky itself rippled. Every shattered piece of metal around us rose into the air, drawn toward the storm forming between us.
I didn't know what I was doing — only that I had to stand.
I raised my hand. The energy pulsed in response.
> "Haruto!" Celia shouted. "Whatever you're doing— make it count!"
> "I don't even know what I'm doing!"
> "Then improvise!"
---
The white sky darkened. The clouds twisted, forming a massive spiral of light above Lunaris.
She watched me — silent, unreadable — as if testing me.
And then, with a small smile, she whispered,
"Show me what you've become."
The world exploded in light.
I felt the resonance tear through my body, meeting hers in a collision that shattered the air. Every color, every sound, every memory collided at once — and for a moment, I saw everything.
The past.
The truth.
The reason she wanted me back.
And then — nothing.
Darkness swallowed the world.
---
When I opened my eyes, Arcadia was gone.
The white sky was endless. The ground beneath me glowed faintly like crystal.
And standing a few meters away, radiant and calm, was Lunaris.
> "Welcome home, Haruto," she said softly. "We have much to remember."
To be continued in Chapter 10: "The Resonance Within"