The Ninth Special Service Division, Aircraft Carrier.
This was the heavy detention area, a place designed for holding prisoners too dangerous to leave in ordinary confinement. This very room had once housed Link, one of the most notorious captives. It wasn't just any prison cell—it was the so-called "VIP suite" in the entire facility. But for their latest guest, the room had undergone significant upgrades. Professor Miyazaki himself oversaw the modifications, ensuring that everything, from the access controls to the internal suppression systems, was finely tuned for the newest resident.
Charlie trusted few people in this chaotic agency, but if there was one person who could be relied on, it was Professor Miyazaki. In a division where the field agents were often ill-prepared, and leadership was a bureaucratic mess that sometimes rivaled Arkham Asylum, Miyazaki was the rare beacon of competence.
After all, the professor was no front-line warrior. He didn't fight battles with weapons or gadgets; his battlefield was in the lab. And the progress he had made in understanding the infection incidents since they began was nothing short of remarkable. The specialized equipment he developed had even managed to work where conventional methods failed.
This time was no different. Professor Miyazaki had uncovered startling similarities between the special abilities of the ancients and the infected humans he had studied. It turned out that the suppression devices originally designed for infected humans could be adapted to restrain the ancients as well. Using this insight, Miyazaki had temporarily reinforced the suppression systems in the VIP suite, ensuring that not even a being like Layla could escape.
But as Layla had made clear from the beginning, she had no intention of leaving. She had come here willingly, seeking cooperation rather than confrontation. And now, as she sat within the high-tech prison cell, her words carried a weight far greater than the cold, steel walls surrounding her.
"You mean..." Professor Miyazaki's voice broke the silence, his tone filled with curiosity. He sat with his legs crossed behind the reinforced, one-way glass, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the table. "We thought your kind—'the ancients'—were the source of the infection all along. But we were wrong?"
"Not entirely," Layla responded, her tone calm and measured. She sat in an almost submissive posture, her hands resting in her lap. Her eyes were fixed on the transparent glass in front of her, though she could not see the professor beyond it.
The room around her was a fortress. Hidden within the walls were devices designed to suppress her abilities, rendering her Tis Shield almost useless. A large, complex machine hummed quietly in the corner of the room, its wires snaking across the floor like dark tendrils.
"The infection incidents you've encountered so far—yes, those originated from us," Layla continued, her voice steady. "The outbreaks on this planet are largely the result of our kind—the beings you call 'the ancients.' So, I'm not here to deny our responsibility or seek your sympathy. It's true that we are to blame for much of this. But we are not the original source you're searching for."
Miyazaki leaned forward, intrigued. Every word she spoke seemed to peel back a layer of mystery. His obsession with understanding the infections was what drove him, far more than the idea of saving humanity. For him, it was about discovery—about finding the root cause, about comprehending the science and history that led to these outbreaks. Now, as he sat across from one of the ancients, he felt closer than ever to unlocking the truth.
"Most of the abilities in your infected humans," Layla continued, "do come from us. But we weren't born with these abilities. They, too, came from elsewhere. A long, long time ago."
Her statement sent a ripple of shock through the observers behind the glass. Even Miyazaki, who prided himself on his unflappable demeanor, felt a chill run down his spine.
"Elsewhere?" Miyazaki echoed, his voice barely concealing his excitement. "Are you saying that the source of your powers, the source of these infections—did not originate with the ancients?"
"That's correct," Layla replied, her eyes narrowing slightly, as if she were peering back into a distant past. "Our powers... came from beyond."
A low murmur of confusion spread through the observation room.
Beyond?
Was she suggesting that the infection originated from outside the Earth? Was this a reference to extraterrestrial life?
Miyazaki's fingers stilled on the table, his gaze sharpening. "Who are they?" he asked, his voice laced with impatience. "The ones who gave you these powers?"
"I don't know," Layla admitted, her voice tinged with the frustration of ancient memories half-forgotten. "My memory is too fragmented, too scattered across the ages. I don't think any of the ancients truly remember. All I know is that they were beings beyond even our comprehension."
She paused, her face taking on a haunted look. "They came from the stars, entities that were ancient when the universe was young. They had knowledge beyond anything you could imagine. Power that defied the laws of nature. For beings like us—ordinary creatures, bound by the limits of our world—the idea of opposing them was laughable."
The observers exchanged uneasy glances. They had seen the power of the ancients firsthand, witnessed their incredible strength and abilities. Yet here was Layla, describing her kind as "ordinary" in comparison to these otherworldly entities.
"Yes," Layla continued, her voice growing quieter, as if speaking to herself. "We ancients were once just another species, living on this planet. But by some chance, we discovered traces of their existence—remnants of their power. We touched something we weren't meant to. And those traces... those fragments... they changed us."
"They gave us power, but that power came with a price. We gained immortality, but we were also bound to the curse of eternal suffering."
The room grew quiet as her words sank in. Everyone in the observation room felt the weight of her confession.
Professor Miyazaki leaned in closer, his eyes glinting with an almost predatory eagerness. "These beings you mentioned—can I interpret them as aliens? Are you saying they visited Earth long ago and left behind these... fragments?"
"Yes," Layla confirmed, her voice somber. "They visited this world eons ago. But they didn't stay. They vanished, leaving behind only remnants of their power. But if you're asking whether they'll return... then the answer is yes."
Another murmur of surprise rippled through the observation room. Miyazaki's heart pounded in his chest, though his face remained calm. This revelation was beyond anything he had anticipated. "You believe they will come back?"
"Not just believe," Layla said softly. "I know they will."
Her gaze hardened, and a sense of finality crept into her voice. "They always return to the places they've touched. Sooner or later. The increasing frequency of infection incidents, the resurgence of ancient powers—it's all part of the same pattern. These are signs. Omens. And when they return... they will bring devastation."
A heavy silence followed her words. The air in the room felt thicker, as if everyone present was holding their breath.
"How do we stop them?" Miyazaki asked after a long pause, his voice low but firm.
But Layla did not respond immediately. Instead, she gave a small, almost pitying smile. "No," she said gently. "You still don't understand."
She looked directly at the glass, her expression one of resigned certainty. "Yes, I've seen that humans have changed since I last walked this world. I've watched your kind evolve. But no matter how much you've grown, you can't stop them. No one can."
Her words were blunt, devoid of hope, but filled with undeniable truth. "They possess a power beyond anything you've ever witnessed. They are beings beyond the laws of your universe. They are invincible. Not us, not humans, not even with your most advanced technology can resist them."
Miyazaki's hands clenched into fists. "So, what are you saying? That we're doomed? That nothing can be done?"
"I'm saying that you can't defeat them," Layla replied, her face expressionless. "There's no shame in admitting that. They are forces of nature—laws unto themselves. But..."
Her voice softened, and for the first time, there was a glimmer of something like compassion in her tone. "What I can offer you is a chance to survive."
Miyazaki arched an eyebrow, intrigued. "How? By waving the white flag and begging for mercy?"
"No," Layla said quietly. "By showing them that humans are not a threat. By proving that you can coexist, that there's no need for conflict. So that, in the end..."
She paused, letting the weight of her next words settle in the air like a final, unbreakable truth.
"...Yes. You better hope they grant you mercy."
[TL Note - I'm getting 'Jesus will return' vibes, lol]