EASRS Zero Z
Chapter 7
The cavern breathed.
That was the only way to describe it.
Moist air moved slowly through the vast underground hollow, thick and heavy, carrying the scent of wet stone, moss, rust, and something faintly metallic that lingered like an old wound. Water trickled endlessly along the gray rock floor, forming shallow streams that reflected faint, distorted glimmers of light from unseen cracks above.
In the center of this damp abyss rose a massive stone pillar—tall, narrow, carved naturally by centuries of erosion.
And seated upon it, as if it were nothing more than a balcony in a quiet garden—
Sora.
She sat calmly, legs swinging lazily in the empty air below. The darkness did not swallow her; it seemed to cradle her. From beneath strands of hair, her amber-gold eyes gleamed sharply—bright, alert, feline.
Below her, beneath a thin veil of water flowing across stone, faint tank tread marks could still be seen. The M2A3 tracks left behind by GAM Organization vehicles had not yet faded. Even distorted by rippling water, they were readable.
Her gaze followed them.
Measured them.
Memorized them.
From afar, her eyes glowed like those of a predator watching from the treetops.
Then—
A sound.
Soft.
Unhurried.
Footsteps.
Echoing faintly from deep within the cavern.
Her ears twitched almost imperceptibly.
A slow smile curled at the corner of her lips.
She rose to her feet.
Her fingernails darkened gradually, turning black, stretching longer, sharper—until they resembled curved obsidian blades. Without hesitation, she drove them into the soft flesh of her own palm.
The sound was wet.
Blood flowed freely, dripping from her hand onto the stone below.
Each droplet pulsed.
Each drop trembled as though alive.
From that blood, something began to form.
Crimson light gathered, coiling, hardening—
Longinus.
The spear manifested as though it had been waiting just beneath her skin. Its shaft glowed deep red, almost black at its core. The blade was impossibly sharp, thin, and elongated—its surface pulsing faintly, as if inhaling and exhaling.
It was not an object.
It was a presence.
It reacted to her.
It vibrated slightly in rhythm with her soft giggling.
Sora tilted her head, eyes half-lidded.
Sora:
> "Look at you… look at you… honestly…"
"You're getting excited again, aren't you?"
The spear trembled faintly.
Almost eager.
She stepped toward the edge of the pillar.
Then—
She jumped.
For a brief, weightless second, she fell through darkness.
Then gravity claimed her body violently.
Her feet struck the stone floor—
—and shattered.
Bone exploded outward beneath her skin. White fragments pierced through flesh. Blood sprayed across the wet rock as the impact echoed sharply throughout the cavern.
The crack of breaking bone reverberated through the hollow space.
Her body swayed.
For a moment, she nearly fell.
But her eyes ignited.
Amber light flared brighter—burning like molten gold in the darkness.
The regeneration began instantly.
Muscle fibers twitched and wove themselves back together. Bone fragments slid inward, grinding softly as they reassembled. Tendons tightened, skin sealed, nerves reconnected.
The process was grotesque—and beautiful.
Within seconds, she stood upright again.
Perfectly balanced.
Only torn fabric around her ankles and blood pooled on the stone floor testified to the violence that had just occurred.
She stepped forward.
Her bare footsteps left faint red smears behind her.
Toward the source of the footsteps.
---
From the opposite end of the cavern, a tall silhouette emerged.
Scrop.
He walked casually, hands tucked lazily beneath folded arms. His boots disturbed the shallow water with each step, ripples spreading outward in slow, deliberate circles.
He did not appear tense.
He did not appear cautious.
He walked as though he owned the darkness.
Sora leaned casually against a moss-covered rock wall, Longinus resting beside her. She raised a hand with exaggerated enthusiasm.
Sora:
> "Yooo~ long time no see…"
"My dear ex-boyfriend."
Scrop's eyes shifted toward her.
He stopped for half a second.
His gaze moved from her face to the nearly three-meter-long spear beside her. The look he gave her was flat, unimpressed, and quietly judgmental.
Still ridiculous.
When the distance between them shrank to less than five meters, his deep, low voice echoed through the cavern.
Scrop:
> "You again…"
And then—
He walked past her.
Just like that.
Sora blinked.
Her smile twitched.
Annoyance flared across her expression as she pushed off the wall and hurried after him. Being shorter, she had to take quicker steps to keep pace with his longer stride.
One tall.
One short.
Their figures reflected faintly in the shallow water as they walked through the vast underground darkness—like two small insects crawling through the ribs of a dead world.
Sora:
> "Hey! What are you even doing here?"
"Aren't you supposed to be with your French girl?"
Scrop exhaled slowly, almost a yawn. He didn't slow down.
Water dripped from the ceiling above, landing on both of them in uneven intervals.
Scrop:
> "Still am."
"If I'm not with my wife, who else would I be with?"
"I'm just on a mission."
He stopped suddenly.
Sora nearly collided into his back.
She recovered quickly and flashed a mischievous grin, spreading her arms slightly as if asking for an embrace.
Sora:
> "Oh~ what mission?"
"If you're not staying with that French girl…"
"Why not stay with me instead? Hehe~"
Without hesitation, Scrop pressed his palm against her forehead and pushed her away.
Cold.
Effortless.
Water dripped onto their heads again, soaking their hair, making them look almost pitiful in the dim light.
He looked down at her.
Scrop:
> "I'm married."
"Go find yourself a boyfriend."
"How exactly would I live with you, brainless woman?"
Sora punched his shoulder lightly.
Behind her, Longinus lifted from the ground and rotated slowly in the air, its crimson glow deepening.
Her voice sharpened.
Sora:
> "Excuse me? My IQ is 195, okay?"
"Don't talk like that, you old man."
Scrop rubbed his shoulder lazily.
A faint, almost invisible smirk tugged at his lips—but his naturally cold expression nearly erased it.
For just a split second, Sora instinctively stepped back, unsure if he might strike.
Instead—
Scrop:
> "Alright, IQ 195."
"I'm here to rescue some GAM Organization soldiers trapped inside this cave."
"…But I'm feeling lazy."
"Can you handle it for me?"
Silence.
Sora froze.
The playful arrogance drained from her face.
She scratched her shoulder awkwardly and avoided his gaze.
Then she forced an embarrassed smile.
Sora:
> "Ah… about that…"
"…I might've roasted them already."
"Sorry."
The dripping water grew louder in the silence that followed.
The cavern, once again, seemed to breathe.
---
At the same time…
---
Site-13 – EASRS FOUNDATION Headquarters
Kanto Region – Japan
Far beneath the surface of the Kanto region—deeper than any public map would ever admit—stood a structure that did not exist.
A fortress hidden under layers of reinforced earth and classified silence.
At its core moved a colossal elevator shaft, forged from layered steel and reinforced concrete. It stretched upward and downward beyond visible limits, as though it connected not floors—but worlds.
Transparent ballistic glass panels lined portions of its interior walls, revealing endless corridors that extended like veins through the underground complex. Embedded within white steel walls, strips of soft blue LED light glowed steadily, casting a sterile, almost artificial calm over the facility.
It felt less like a building—
and more like a machine.
Scientists in pristine white lab coats walked along the corridors visible through the glass. Their voices blended into a low murmur of academic debate—calm, clinical, detached. Data tablets glowed in their hands. Holographic projections flickered beside them.
Security personnel stood nearby in relaxed clusters.
They wore white tactical coats resembling ceremonial fencing jackets, layered over black IOTV body armor. Crimson berets rested sharply upon their heads, and black protective goggles concealed their eyes. Each held a compact P90 submachine gun loosely but confidently.
Their posture was casual.
Too casual.
Because everyone inside Site-13 knew one thing:
The defense system here was absolute.
Multi-layered automated turrets. AI-controlled targeting grids. Internal lockdown sectors. Independent oxygen systems. Anti-air arrays hidden kilometers above ground.
No one could breach this place.
Not from the outside.
The massive elevator ascended silently through the central shaft, stopping briefly at multiple secure levels before continuing upward.
Among the crowded occupants stood—
—or rather leaned—
a figure that easily drew attention.
At first glance, one might mistake him for a girl.
And not just slightly.
Completely.
He possessed a femininity so refined that even careful observers could falter.
His hair was golden and smooth, cut in a carefully layered bob that framed his small face perfectly. His skin was pale—soft, almost porcelain-like beneath the sterile lighting. Sharp blue eyes, clear and piercing, held a quiet intelligence beneath their beauty.
His frame was slender.
Delicate.
Standing at only 167 centimeters, he barely reached the shoulder—or sometimes the chest—of the armored guards surrounding him.
A smooth white dress shirt fitted neatly against his thin build. Black tailored slacks fell cleanly along his legs, and a tactical brace with a silver buckle rested subtly at his waist, adding a faint military sharpness that contrasted with his innocent appearance.
His presence radiated contradiction.
Fragile.
Yet not.
Innocent.
Yet not.
He leaned quietly against the elevator wall as it finally slowed.
The mechanical hum deepened.
Then—
It stopped.
A heavy steel door stood before them. Thick. Reinforced. Industrial.
Hydraulic systems roared.
The door began to open.
Cold night air flowed in.
And beyond it—
Moonlight.
The underground gave way to the open sky.
The boy—Lucas—pushed himself off the wall and stepped forward.
Outside stretched a vast runway illuminated by evenly spaced white lights. The concrete was smooth and gray, extending far into the darkness. To the right stood a terminal structure composed of blue-tinted glass panels, reflecting the moon above.
Painted boldly across the wall in black letters:
"Airport – Area 15"
Beside it, smaller but unmistakable:
"Site-13"
Control towers rose like black monoliths against the night sky, their red aviation lights blinking rhythmically.
Aircraft of various classes rested across the airfield.
Stealth fighters—YF-23s, F-22 Raptors.
Heavy transport planes—C-17 Globemasters.
Attack helicopters—AH-64 Apaches.
Utility helicopters—UH-60 Black Hawks.
Despite their different shapes and purposes, they all shared one common trait:
Matte black paint.
And the silver insignia of EASRS emblazoned along their bodies—almost invisible under the moonlight, as though designed to merge with the shadows themselves.
Lucas walked calmly across the illuminated concrete, the faint echo of his footsteps swallowed by the vastness of the runway.
Then—
A sharp mechanical crackle.
His radio activated.
A synthetic, emotionless voice transmitted through the device clipped to his collar.
Radio:
> "Mission update."
"Proceed to Site-27 — Texas."
"Provide support to Sinner-26."
The night seemed to grow heavier.
Lucas did not answer immediately.
His blue eyes reflected the runway lights, cold and unreadable.
Then, quietly—
He adjusted his cuff.
And continued walking.
---
[To be continued]