Unknown
Unknown
Unknown
"The reading... It's impossible..."
A sharp, blaring sound pierced the air—a jarring noise that scraped against the edges of her awareness. Its intensity surged, rattling her thoughts, but she couldn't make sense of it. Her mind swayed like a pendulum, teetering between fragmented lucidity and the smothering weight of darkness.
"Get the doctor!" a voice snapped somewhere in the distance. The words echoed faintly, slipping away as she spiraled deeper into unconsciousness. Her thoughts drifted aimlessly in the darkness, drawn into a strange, infinite void that seemed to pulse with its reality. It was an uncharted expanse, a world within her, both haunting and familiar. Yet, whatever truth lay hidden there was inaccessible—her memories locked tight behind a door she couldn't open.
A voice broke through the fog, shattering the silence. "What's happening?" It called her back, pulling her from the void. But was it reality she returned to... or something worse? A nightmare? She couldn't tell.
Her eyelids fluttered, the oppressive haze in her mind finally clearing just enough for her to take in her surroundings. She was strapped to a medical bed, the cold bite of restraints digging into her wrists and ankles. A thin, sterile gown clung to her body, its fabric brushing against her clammy skin. Her gaze lowered, trembling as she saw the tangle of tubes protruding from her arms, chest, and spine. Crimson liquid—the dark, unmistakable color of blood—flowed through the transparent tubes, siphoning from her body like a lifeline being drained.
The sterile hum of machinery and soft beeps filled the air. Her eyes shifted, landing on the figure looming nearby. A man stood before a glowing monitor, its light casting eerie shadows across his angular face. He wore a pristine white lab coat, the stiff material creased in all the right places, as though untouched by the chaos surrounding them. His glasses—dark, reflective lenses—hid his eyes entirely, concealing whatever lay behind them. His skin was smooth and pale, almost unnaturally so, as though he had never stepped into the light of day. There was no warmth in his expression, no flicker of empathy or hesitation as he studied the screen before him. His cold, clinical demeanor made the air feel heavier, pressing down on her chest like a weight she couldn't lift.
The man's voice broke the silence again, low and dispassionate, more to himself than anyone else. "The readings... They've stabilized... but this data..."
The man in the lab coat—the doctor—turned his attention to her. His movements were deliberate, his presence oppressive as he approached her. She caught the faint scent of antiseptic lingering in the air, sterile and suffocating. His gaze, sharp and calculating, bore down on her like a predator assessing its prey. He stopped beside her, his hands reaching toward her restrained form. She trembled uncontrollably. Fear surged in waves, coiling tightly around her chest. Pain and sadness bubbled to the surface, but it was anger that burned the fiercest—a helpless, impotent rage. She struggled, her body thrashing against the bindings, desperate to escape his reach. But the restraints held firm, cold, and unyielding, leaving her completely at his mercy.
"You truly are an extraordinary being, ?????."
The sound of his voice sent a shiver down her spine. His words rang clear in her ears, heavy with a strange mixture of awe and menace. But the last word—her name, or something tied to her very identity—was distorted, as though muffled by static. She heard it but couldn't grasp it, like a fleeting memory that slipped through her fingers. Maybe she didn't want to understand it. Maybe her mind refused to process it. And then it happened—a jarring sensation tore through her, wrenching her out of the moment.
Emily's eyes shot open. She gasped for air, her chest heaving as though she'd been drowning and had finally broken the surface. Her head felt unbearably heavy, a dull, throbbing pain pounding in her skull as though she'd been trampled by a herd of Mystic Beasts. Groaning softly, she raised trembling hands to her temples, massaging them in a futile attempt to ease the pressure. She forced herself upright, her limbs weak and unsteady, as fragments of memory began to surface like shards of glass in her mind. The last thing she remembered was the battle. The fight against the Beast King. The sheer chaos of it returned to her in pieces—the overwhelming power of their foe, the heat of the battlefield, and Leon.
Leon had somehow created an opening for her. He had faced impossible odds and given her one fleeting chance to strike. The Beast King's Infernal Engine—the core of his monstrous power—had been exposed, and Emily had seized the moment. But she hadn't been herself.
She shuddered as the memory resurfaced. In that moment, she had reached deep into herself, dredging up the thing she had sworn to bury forever. The thing she had feared above all else. It hadn't felt like a choice. It hadn't felt like her own decision. It was as though something had awakened within her, something ancient and primal, taking over when she needed it most. As Emily tried to gather her bearings, her surroundings gradually came into focus. Her Internal Sense had already activated on instinct, heightening her awareness of the space around her. The intricate details of the environment poured into her mind, painting a vivid picture of where she was. She knew this place. The realization struck her immediately. The Pocket Space—the same warped, artificial dimension where she had fought the masked being in the research base. The eerie familiarity of it sent a chill down her spine.
Her eyes moved, scanning the area. Not far from her, she spotted Henry, Callum, and Trini sitting on the ground. Exhaustion weighed heavily on their faces, their bodies slumped in utter fatigue. Their breaths came in shallow puffs, evidence of the grueling ordeal they had endured. Nearby, Sam stood silently, her posture tense, her expression solemn. Emily didn't need to ask what was wrong. The answer was laid bare before her—Stella's lifeless body lay on the ground close to Sam. A pang of sorrow pierced through Emily's chest. She closed her eyes briefly, taking a shaky breath to steady herself. There would be time to grieve later, but the weight of Stella's death hung over her like a storm cloud, demanding to be acknowledged. Forcing herself to her feet, Emily turned toward where Leon stood by the column. He had Freya pinned there, restrained and unable to move. Rex stood close by, his muscular arms crossed over his chest, his expression unreadable. He wasn't interfering—just observing, detached yet present.
Then Rex turned. His eyes locked onto her as he sensed the shift in her awareness, the telltale signs of her regaining focus. His expression softened, relief washing over his face as he moved toward her.
"Emily..." he said his voice low and filled with emotion. Before she could react, he wrapped her in a tight hug, his massive arms enveloping her like a protective barrier. The sheer force of his embrace made her wince slightly.
"Easy," Emily muttered, managing a weak smile despite the throbbing ache in her head. "My head's killing me." Rex immediately loosened his grip, pulling back to examine her carefully. His sharp eyes scanned her face as if searching for any lingering traces of the mysterious state she'd been in. At his level, his Internal Sense was leagues beyond hers, honed to an edge even sharper than Emily's as a Mage. When she'd been unconscious, he'd been unable to sense her mind at all—a fact that had unnerved him deeply. Her soul had still been present, her heart still pumping blood, but her consciousness had vanished entirely, leaving her in a state that resembled...
A vegetable.
The thought chilled Rex to the core. But now, seeing her awake and aware, some of the tension in his body eased.
"You scared us," Rex said, his voice gruff but laced with relief.
Leon, who had been focused on Freya and the cryptic things she had said, turned at the sound of Emily's voice. His intense gaze softened as he took in the sight of her awake and conscious. Slowly, he removed Solus from Freya's throat, the shimmering blade dissolving into light before disappearing back into its scabbard within his dimensional band. Without another word to Freya, he walked toward Emily, glad to see her on her feet.
"Emily," Leon said simply, his voice calm but carrying the weight of unspoken emotions.
"Leon, what happened?" Emily asked, her voice tinged with urgency. "The Beast King... what happened?"
Leon's jaw tightened as he hesitated. The events that had unfolded weren't something he could easily explain with words. Instead, he reached for a deeper connection. Closing his eyes briefly, he opened his mind toward Emily, channeling his Odic Force to transmit the memories of what had transpired.
A rush of images and sensations flooded Emily's consciousness. Her Internal Sense processed the data rapidly—the chaos, the battle, the decisions Leon had made in the heat of the moment. She saw everything as if she were standing in his place, and when the stream of memories ended, she staggered slightly, her breath hitching.
Her attention shifted to Sam, who stood nearby, her face unreadable but her presence unnervingly heavy. Something in Emily's gut twisted as she caught Sam's expression—or lack of one. But before she could linger on it, her eyes flicked back to Freya.
The uniform Freya wore now caught Emily's attention. It was different from the one she'd worn when they entered the Infernal Dimension together. The realization hit like a jolt of electricity.
"So you're a spy for the Fallen Star," Emily said, her voice sharp. "You're the one who destroyed the base."
Freya tilted her head slightly, her face devoid of remorse. "Not me," she replied evenly. "That was Vashin Priyham."
"What?!" Leon's voice cut through the air like a blade. His disbelief was palpable. The Beastman he had fought and killed was responsible for destroying the lab. It didn't add up.
"Why would Vashin destroy the lab?" Emily pressed, her brows furrowing. "Didn't he work for Sector Zero?"
Freya didn't respond immediately, but Rex spoke up instead, his tone grim. "He did. But he was following the Herald's orders."
Emily's heart sank. "The Herald..." she murmured.
Rex crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing. "Vashin was the middleman between Mallus and Delacroix."
"Delacroix!" Leon snarled, his voice rising in anger. His fists clenched tightly as he spat the name like venom. "What's that bastard got to do with any of this?" The ex-paladin criminal had haunted his thoughts for years, and now his name surfaced again in connection to this nightmare.
Freya opened her mouth to speak, but she froze mid-motion, her gaze darting toward something unseen. Her demeanor shifted, her shoulders straightening as she let out a long sigh. Reaching for her mask, she slipped it back onto her face with practiced ease.
"I have to go," she said, her tone calm but final. Her sharp eyes met Rex's. "He can fill you in on the rest."
Before anyone could respond, she added, "I'll be sending you all back to Golden Dawn."
"No," Sam's voice rang out, cutting through the air like a shard of ice.
Everyone turned to look at her. Sam's tears were gone, and though her face appeared calm, something was deeply unsettling about her presence. Her eyes reflected the light with an unnatural coldness, as though a shift had occurred within her—a change that no one could yet name.
Even Sam, standing there with her unyielding gaze, seemed unaware of how different she had become.
"Send us back to my mother," Sam said, her voice steady, almost commanding. "Send us back to the Fallen Star."
Freya raised her head, momentarily surprised by Sam's request. Her mask obscured any visible reaction, but her body language betrayed a flicker of hesitation. Still, she chose not to comment. Instead, she turned and walked toward the monolith in the center of the space.
The monolith hovered above a glowing magic circle, veins of purple light pulsating through the intricate patterns engraved on the ground. The energy seemed alive, flowing like liquid through the runes. Freya placed her hand on the monolith, and it descended slowly, the hum of its power filling the air. She began setting the coordinates, her fingers moving deftly over invisible controls, adjusting their destination to Alviss Mountain, where the Fallen Star's forces would retrieve them.
"Where will you go?" Rex asked, his arms still crossed as the Pocket Space around them began the gradual process of activating the transportation ritual.
Freya didn't turn to face him, her attention focused on her work. "I have a job to do," she said plainly. "Unlike you, Mallus is still unaware of my involvement. I'd like to keep it that way."
Rex let out a low grumble, his frustration evident. "My cover only got blown because certain people decided my time with Sector Zero was up," he muttered, his voice tinged with bitterness. He exhaled sharply, his jaw tightening. "And honestly? I was fine with that decision."
Freya glanced at him briefly, her expression unreadable behind the mask.
"I hated being a spy," Rex admitted. His gaze turned distant, the weight of his double life flickering in his eyes. "It's not my thing. Too much deception, too much waiting around for the right moment. I prefer a direct approach. Get in, get out. No games."
Emily glanced between the two of them, her mind racing. The layers of deception, betrayal, and manipulation they had been forced to endure weighed heavily on her. The Pocket Space pulsed, the hum of its energy growing louder as the process neared completion.
Freya straightened, her task complete. She turned back toward the group, her posture relaxed but her tone sharp. "You'll be safe with the Fallen Star. From here on, you guys are on your own. I'll handle my side of things."
The tension in the air was palpable as the magic circle flared brighter, signaling that their departure was imminent. Soon a flash of purple light covered them and they were gone, leaving Freya alone in the pocket space.
****
Alviss Mountain,
Hyades City, Exterior Ward
Spring Court, Hidden World
Terra, Gaea Solar system
Milky Way Galaxy,
Neutral Free Zone
March 27th 2019
The group appeared back on Alviss Mountain, where a hovercraft was waiting for them. The craft bore the insignia of the Octagram Society, an eight-pointed star enclosed within a circle. At the helm was Titus, his face a mask of composure as he disembarked to meet them. His eyes lingered on Stella McCoy's lifeless form, cradled in Sam's arms. Though he said nothing, his tightened jaw and the brief flicker of sorrow in his gaze betrayed his inner turmoil. Without a word, he stepped forward to take Stella's body, carefully placing it into the coffin-like vessel he had brought with him. The air around him was heavy with unspoken grief, his movements methodical as though the weight of the moment threatened to shatter him if he faltered.
Titus had received word from the Herald, who had already informed Lady Sophia of the tragedy. His mistress's adopted sister was dead. Though the relationship between the two sisters had grown strained over the years, Titus knew Lady Sophia's love for Stella remained unwavering. This loss would cut deeply, reopening wounds that had never truly healed. As he returned to the pilot seat, Titus's mind churned with thoughts. Looks like things are going according to what the Herald foretold, he thought grimly. Steering the craft toward the Five Fingers Mountains, he allowed the engines' hum to drown the silence, focusing on the task at hand.
The hovercraft descended through a series of hidden airways carved into the jagged peaks of the Five Fingers, the natural barriers giving way to an awe-inspiring sight. Nestled deep within the mountains' embrace, Hyades City revealed itself as a marvel of dwarven ingenuity and craftsmanship. To the outside world, the Five Fingers appeared as little more than imposing, isolated spires, their jagged peaks piercing the sky like ancient sentinels. Yet, within their shadowed depths thrived a sprawling city that blended tradition with unparalleled innovation.
The entrance tunnel opened into a grand cavern, where the heart of Hyades City pulsed with life. Bioluminescent crystal arrays hung from the ceilings like artificial stars, casting a soft, ethereal glow that illuminated the monumental halls. Steam-powered gas lamps lined the streets, their golden light reflecting off the polished stone walls and the intricate steel framework that reinforced the cavern's massive expanse. The ceilings were so high they seemed to scrape the heavens, supported by ornately carved pillars engraved with ancestral tales and symbols of progress—a testament to the dwarves' pride in their heritage and their forward-looking vision. The city itself was a labyrinth of innovation. Winding stone streets flanked by copper-plated railings spiraled through tiered districts, each level bustling with activity. Brass pipes ran along the walls like veins, hissing and clanking with the energy of the steam that powered the city's lifeblood. Suspended platforms, bridges, and walkways crisscrossed the open spaces, connecting the districts in a web of elegant engineering.
Workshops and factories dominated the lower tiers, where the rhythmic pounding of forges and the whirring of gears created a symphony of industry. Here, dwarven artisans and engineers toiled tirelessly, crafting everything from intricate clockwork mechanisms to towering machines that belched steam and smoke. Hovercrafts, the pinnacle of Hyades' technological achievement, were assembled in vast hangars, their sleek, brass-plated forms a fusion of beauty and functionality. These crafts zipped through the air, ferrying goods and passengers between the city's tiers and beyond. The middle levels housed the bustling marketplaces and trading hubs, where merchants from across the realms came to barter. Stalls overflowed with exotic goods—shimmering gemstones, alchemical potions, and mechanical trinkets—while the air buzzed with the chatter of diverse tongues. Overhead, steam-powered lifts ferried people between levels, their clockwork mechanisms a seamless blend of art and engineering.
The uppermost tiers were reserved for the city's elite and its centers of governance. Here, sprawling mansions carved directly into the mountain stone stood alongside towering spires adorned with gilded accents. At the city's core, the Grand Assembly Hall rose like a monument to dwarven unity, its domed roof inlaid with a mosaic of shimmering crystals that depicted the founding of Hyades. Titus guided the hovercraft toward one of the city's docking platforms, the vessel's engines hissing as it settled onto the polished stone. As he powered down the craft, he cast a final glance at Stella's coffin, a shadow passing over his face. The city's grandeur was a stark contrast to the burdens carried by those within the craft.
As the group was led to the tower that belonged to the Octagram Society, Sam's mind was churning with countless thoughts. Her attention wasn't on the beauty of the city, the innovations of the Dwarves, or the gyrosphere vehicle that took them through the city. She was deep in thought, reflecting on the wealth of information she had acquired since beginning her path of ascension. The details she had received from the Gaea spell system, the knowledge gained from the books her mother had given her, and the mysteries that still surrounded her.
She still didn't fully understand the depths of the Gaea spell system or how she had come to possess all of this information, but she didn't care. Her mind was more focused on processing the power and potential she had in her grasp.
Her thoughts shifted to the runic interface that displayed her stats, hovering in her mind's eye. The information was more than just numbers; it was a reflection of her growth, the journey she had undertaken, and the power she now wielded.
Status:
Name: Samantha Sinclair
Rank: Peak stage Adept [Tier 10] (Adept rank Mage) [Tier 5]
Star Core: Fifth Star Rings
Physique: Awakened
Strength: 600
Agility: 519
Endurance: 600
Stamina: 600
Luck: 600
Intelligence: 625
Spiritual Power: 700
Physical Power: 800
Combat Power: 5044
Arcane Arts:Elemental magic (Contract with Thunder Elemental Spirit King)
Spells:
Thunderbolt - Tier 4 (Minor Mastery)Sonata Requiem - Tier 6 (Minor Mastery)Stormfall - Tier 5 (Minor Mastery)Exploding Cube Prison - Tier 5 (Minor Mastery)
Combat Arts:
Adamantium Fist Martial Art - Five-star rank (Major Mastery)
Ability Factor:
Symphony, Terramorphosis
Symphony: The ability to access the Música Universalis.
Unique Technique: Resonance, Consonance, Dissonance, Música Conductor
Música Conductor: A unique technique that allows one to peer into the soul's frequency and wavelength.Resonance: Matches the user's resonant frequency with their target to unleash a highly destructive concussive blast.Consonance: Allows the user to pull matter together on a molecular level by aligning with the natural vibrations and frequencies of reality.Dissonance: Pushes matter apart on a molecular level by creating discordant frequencies.
Terramorphosis: The ability to shape, manipulate, and transform earth and its variant elements.
Unique Techniques:
Metal Forge, Earth Sculpt, Crystal Bloom, Magma Surge, Seismic Resonance
Her abilities were vast, each technique a unique tool at her disposal. As Sam explored the new skills now on display before her, her mind began to work rapidly, formulating plans for her future. What could she achieve with her powers? What paths could she take? The possibilities seemed endless. Yet, amid her thoughts, she hadn't even noticed the room they had entered.
The room exuded a serene ambiance, a stark contrast to the turmoil each of them carried within. The pale green furniture, crafted with intricate detailing, complemented the smooth silver chandelier that hung above, casting a soft, diffused light across the space. The glow was calming, almost hypnotic as if the room itself sought to ease the tension etched into their faces.
In the center of the room, a long glass table stood as a centerpiece, pristine and untouched, despite the spread of refreshments it bore. Plates of finely crafted food, likely sourced from Hyades' finest kitchens, and glasses filled with various drinks gleamed under the chandelier's light. Yet, no one reached for them. The silence among the group felt heavy, each of them too lost in their thoughts or too worn down by recent events to indulge.
Leon sat closest to the table, his body slumped slightly forward as though the weight of his exhaustion was finally catching up to him. Even so, his eyes scanned the room and lingered on Sam, his ever-present vigilance refusing to waver. Emily noticed, of course, and though her heart ached to see him so drained, she chose not to say anything more.
The soft hum of the industrial city outside seeped through the walls, a faint but constant reminder of the bustling world beyond this small, tranquil sanctuary. Rex leaned casually against one of those walls, but his posture betrayed the restless energy simmering beneath his composed exterior. His sharp eyes flicked between the group, finally settling on Titus, who remained stationed by the window.
The room's tranquil atmosphere offered an illusion of respite, but the undercurrent of tension was palpable. Each of them was waiting—for answers, for orders, or perhaps simply for the chance to catch their breath before the next storm arrived. For now, they had this quiet moment, even if it did little to ease the burdens they carried. The heavy silence in the room was interrupted at various intervals by the faint hum of machinery from the industrial complex beyond the window. Emily glanced at Leon, her gaze lingering on the tension in his frame. His shoulders, usually squared and confident, now sagged with the weight of fatigue. His battle with Nabu had pushed him to his limits, and it was clear he was running on sheer willpower alone. His heavy breaths broke the silence, a subtle reminder of just how mortal even someone like him could be.
Rex acting as a pillar of strength, kept a watchful gaze over everyone, though the slight furrow of his brow betrayed his thoughts—he was assessing, calculating, and preparing for whatever came next. His presence was steady, a reminder of their need to stay vigilant even in moments of rest.
Titus stood apart, near the window, his back turned to the group. The glow of the industrial cityscape outside reflected on his steely features, his expression unreadable. The massive pipes and towering stacks of Hyades City stretched out before him, a testament to dwarven innovation and resilience. He seemed lost in thought, his mind likely preoccupied with whatever plans Lady Sophia had set into motion.
Emily let her gaze wander back to Leon, his proximity grounding her in this moment of uncertainty. "You should rest," she whispered, though her voice carried enough firmness to let him know she wasn't simply suggesting it.
Leon shook his head, the ghost of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "I'll rest when I know she's okay," he replied, his voice low but resolute, his gaze on Sam.
The weariness in his tone didn't go unnoticed. Emily wanted to argue but stopped herself. She understood him too well to push further. Instead, she let the silence settle once again, broken only by the mechanical hum from outside and the faint hiss of steam rising from distant pipes.
"What's next?" Rex finally asked, his voice cutting through the stillness.
Titus didn't turn to face them, his gaze still fixed on the industrial skyline. "We wait for orders," he said simply, his tone clipped and efficient. "Lady Sophia will want a full report, and no doubt the Herald has their next move planned."
"Waiting isn't exactly our strong suit," Leon muttered, his voice dripping with impatience.
Emily exhaled, leaning back against the wall. She could feel the tension in the room, the weight of what they had just endured, and the uncertainty of what lay ahead. She cast another glance at Leon, whose eyes remained fixed on Sam, even as exhaustion threatened to pull him under.
Despite the apparent calm, tension lingered in the air. Sam's clothes, battle-worn and stained, clung to her, and though her wounds were healing, they were progressing slowly. Her exhaustion was palpable, but her thoughts remained sharp and focused. The door to the room slid open with a soft whoosh, drawing everyone's attention. Sophia Sinclair stepped in, her presence commanding as she immediately began scanning the room. Her gaze swept over each person briefly, as if sizing them up, before landing on Sam. Her eyes narrowed slightly when she saw the state Sam was in, noting the bruises and cuts still visible on her face.
"You're not looking too good, Sam," Sophia remarked, her voice hovering between concern and curiosity. Sam stayed silent, letting the tension in the room settle. Despite her battered state, she refused to show weakness—not in front of Sophia, not now. She shifted in her seat, steadying her breath, even as her mind churned with restless thoughts. Sophia lingered by the doorway, watching, waiting for the right moment to speak.
"So," Sophia began her tone even. "You managed to drive off the Beast King."
"We did," Leon answered, his voice weary. "But the mission wasn't... truly a success."
"No, it wasn't," Sophia agreed, her gaze sweeping the room. "But for now, we'll have to accept it for what it is." She turned to Rex, who leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. Out of everyone, he seemed the least affected by the battles. His posture exuded strength, and there was a spark of readiness in his eyes. "Unfortunately, with what's coming, we don't have time to mourn."
"What's coming?" Leon asked, his tone sharp. "Does this have anything to do with the Pleiadians from Sector Zero?"
Sophia's expression darkened, her words drawing the group's full attention. "A Cleansing is about to begin."
Leon stiffened, his fists clenching. Emily's eyes narrowed, a flicker of alarm crossing her face. The air in the room grew heavier, the weight of Sophia's statement settling over them like a dark cloud.