"Hope is fragile… but in the right hands, even broken glass can still shine."
The storm over Nagazora screamed like a living thing. Lightning ripped violet across the clouds, painting the skeletons of fallen towers in brief, merciless light. Wind carried the scent of ash, rust, and fear.
Through the smoke walked Kiana Kaslana, hair tangled with soot, eyes burning with stubborn defiance.
Raiden Mei followed quietly, her breaths uneven, the dormant Herrscher power in her blood stirring beneath her skin.
Bronya Zaychik trailed behind, scanning every collapsed alley with mechanical precision.
"Come on," Kiana said, forcing cheer through exhaustion. "There's gotta be something left standing—maybe even a donut shop."
"Statistically improbable," Bronya replied flatly.
Mei managed a weak laugh. "Let her dream, Bronya."
Then the wind changed. Beneath the smoke came a faint trace of antiseptic and ozone—sterile, impossibly clean.
Bronya lifted her head. "Power readings ahead. Medical-grade filtration. Seventy meters."
They followed the glimmer of light through the dark.
The Chiba Academy infirmary still clung to life. Half the roof was gone, yet emergency lamps buzzed overhead. The air was thick with disinfectant and quiet groans.
In the center moved a woman with silver-blue hair, tied loosely behind one ear, sleeves rolled past her elbows. Her blue eyes caught what little light the storm allowed—clear, sharp, alive. The coat she wore was marked with a faded Rhodes Island insignia, pockets heavy with tools and bandages.
When the girls entered, she didn't flinch—just tilted her head with a crooked smile.
"Well," she said, voice smooth, amused, "if it isn't my afternoon miracle delivery. You three here to help, or to faint on my floor?"
Kiana blinked. "You're a doctor?"
"On paper," Florence replied, wrapping gauze around a soldier's arm. "Though these days I take whatever job keeps people breathing."
Mei's voice was barely a whisper. "We thought… everyone was gone."
"Everyone sensible, maybe." Florence smirked. "But I'm not known for that."
They fell into rhythm without needing orders. Kiana hauled debris aside, Mei steadied patients, Bronya rerouted the flickering power grid. Florence moved among them with effortless confidence—half medic, half conductor of a quiet symphony.
"Kaslana—lift that beam, gently," she said, not looking up. "Yes, gently means not breaking it in half, dear."
Kiana froze mid-lift. "Wait, how did you—"
"Lucky guess." Florence's smile didn't reach her eyes.
A support beam cracked overhead. Florence flicked her wrist. The metal froze mid-fall, suspended by an invisible force. To the girls, it looked like one of her drones had caught it. Only Bronya noticed the absence of any signal. She said nothing.
Hours blurred. The ground quaked with distant detonations, the sky pulsing violet. Then a comm beacon chirped on Bronya's visor.
"Schicksal frequency detected. Vessel Helios inbound."
Florence stilled for a heartbeat, then laughed softly. "Of course it's her."
"Her?" Kiana asked.
"An old friend," Florence said. "Short, loud, and occasionally right."
Another tremor shook the street—then the roar of a Honkai beast split the night. Obsidian skin, eyes burning purple, claws scraping asphalt.
Florence grabbed her coat. "All right, field trip's over. Get the civilians moving."
Kiana drew her pistols. "We can help!"
Florence met her gaze, smile faint but genuine. "You can live, sweetheart. That's help enough."
She stepped into the street. Wind tore through her hair, silver-blue strands glinting as shards of metal rose around her—beams, panels, fragments of drone hulls—circling like silent sentinels. To onlookers, it was just technology obeying its master. Only Florence knew it was her will that moved them.
The beast lunged. She answered with steel and resolve.
Each motion was deliberate, precise. The air rang with the sound of shattering metal and the hum of energy barely restrained. When it ended, the creature lay still, the street quiet except for her breathing.
The constructs fell one by one, heavy against the broken road.
Florence straightened, voice steady. "Go. Your ride's here."
The Helios descended through the clouds, its thrusters scattering the storm. Floodlights carved golden paths through the smoke. On the boarding ramp stood Himeko Murata and Theresa Apocalypse, directing evacuees toward safety.
Kiana turned, shouting over the roar. "Come with us!"
Florence smiled, blue eyes soft. "Doctors leave last, remember?"
"B—but—"
"Go, Kaslana." A trace of pride colored her tone. "You'll be needed again."
Kiana hesitated, then nodded. She took Mei's arm and led her toward the Helios, Bronya following in silence.
As the airship rose into the night, Florence watched until its lights vanished into cloud. The storm glimmered faintly against her silver-blue hair, each strand catching a different shade of the chaos above.
"Kaslana blood," she murmured, lips curling into a tired smile, "still running toward fires."
Then she turned back into the ruins, a lone medic disappearing into a city that refused to die.