His eyes were fixed on them—dagger-sharp, unrelenting. The very same weapons that had likely obliterated the knights outside were now aimed solely at them.
Ytellia didn't want to answer. No—she couldn't.
A quick glance behind her confirmed that Thorus felt the same. He was frozen, his arrogance stripped away, leaving only silent dread.
Then, without warning, Zeervin raised his hand, shifting his aim of what seems to be the item from before. A split second later, a searing light burst from the object in his hand.
Thorus collapsed.
No scream. No final words. Just a body crumpling to the ground.
It took Ytellia a moment to process what had happened. The head knight, who had been kneeling with his head bowed, now lay motionless in a deep kowtow.
A hole marked the center of his skull. Blood and gray matter seeped from the wound, pooling onto the ground. Ytellia's breath caught in her throat. Her eyes widened in pure horror. Death had just happened beside her. Swift. Absolute.
Kyaaaaa
A deafening echo resounded within the hub, the final remnants of gunfire fading into an eerie silence. LANA's lockdown had sealed the hub in a suffocating stillness, broken only by the ragged breaths of the lone survivor kneeling on the cold floor.
Ytellia.
Her face was contorted in horror, her body frozen in exhaustion. She wanted to run—to claw her way out of this nightmare—but mana depletion had left her defenseless. She was at his mercy now. The man she had so gravely misunderstood.
"P-please... don't kill me…" Her voice barely escaped her lips, trembling as she pressed her hands against the floor in surrender.
Zeervin exhaled sharply, running a hand over his face as if embarrassed by the sheer absurdity of the situation. His eyes flickered with something between irritation and reluctant patience.
"Haah… That's not what I was asking." His voice was calm, yet the weight behind it sent a chill through her spine. He glanced around before locking his piercing gaze onto her.
"Ytellia, I really don't want to kill you. So do me a favor and explain what led us here."
Hope.
It was faint, fragile—but it was there. She raised her head cautiously.
"I—I don't know, I promise!" she stammered, desperation lacing her words. "W-we were only ordered to investigate…!"
Zeervin remained unmoved. His gaze dragged over her as if peeling apart her very soul, searching for even the slightest hint of deceit. Then, without breaking eye contact, he spoke.
"LANA, open the brig." A mechanical chime confirmed the command.
Zeervin turned away, his voice low, "Come with me."
But Ytellia's body had already reached its limit. Every muscle screamed in agony, her limbs felt like dead weight, and no matter how much she willed herself to move, her body refused to obey.
"I—I can't…" she whispered, her voice frail. "I can't stand…"
She tried. She truly did. Pushing against the ground with trembling arms, she attempted to lift herself—but her strength failed her. Her arms buckled, and she collapsed back onto the cold floor.
Desperation clawed at her. Tears welled in her eyes as she fought against her failing body. The image of Thorus' lifeless corpse seared into her mind. She didn't want to die. She refused to share his fate. She tried to roll, crawl—anything to show that she could still move, still prove her worth.
Zeervin watched, his gaze unreadable. Then, with a sigh, he stepped forward.
"Come," he said, kneeling in front of her and gesturing toward his back. His voice lacked irritation, only quiet resolve. "You won't make it to the ship at this rate."
Ship?
The thought barely registered, drowned beneath the overwhelming exhaustion pressing down on her. Right now, nothing mattered more than the fact that Zeervin, the man she had feared, was extending his help.
Swallowing her pride, Ytellia reached for his shoulders, trying to pull herself up. But her fingers barely found purchase before her strength failed again.
Sensing her struggle, Zeervin moved lower, grasped her arms, and guided them around his shoulders before adjusting her weight securely against his back.
"All good?" he asked.
"I-I think so," she mumbled weakly, her breath warm against his shoulder.
Without another word, Zeervin rose, lifting her with ease. His footsteps were steady as he carried her forward—but before leaving, he paused. Lifting a hand, he pointed toward two floating golems hovering nearby. Their metallic forms gleamed under the dim light, weapons primed.
"Just a warning—don't try anything reckless," he said, his tone calm yet firm. "Look at them, and remember what happened to your companion."
Ytellia swallowed hard. She understood.
No, she fully understood.
To defy him now would be nothing short of suicide.
***
Just recently, we were just under attack. However, LANA's quick calculation saved us by repelling the assailants. I was even thankful of her that she managed to response instantly—so fast that not a single one of them even had the chance to lay a finger on me.
I should've been relieved. Instead, guilt clawed at my chest. She had only done what she was programmed to do: protect me. The gun against my own head was a desperate move, a gamble that left my fingers unsteady and my breath shallow. Even now, I hated thinking about it.
LANA acted on her own accord, while uttering "Pilot safety compromised, Sustainment Directive triggered, neutralizing threat." then proceed to send barrages of high caliber bullet from the point-defence turrets.
LANA's voice had been unyielding.
I told her multiple times to halt it, but she ignored my orders so I had to resort to such extent.
I smiled, anxious. Even at this moment, LANA's complain couldn't be stopped.
"ALERT! ALERT! Pilot safety under threat! Zeervin, separate yourself from the threat subject!" Such statement repeatedly echoes in my helmet, even beginning to irritate my ears.
Ironically, I am now carrying the same person who had stood with those trying to kill me. Not because I trusted her, but because I had no better option. The drones couldn't carry her, and if the cranes tried, she'd probably end up as nothing more than a bloody smear on the floor.
She had succumbed to exhaustion, her breathing slow and steady. That was good enough.
I exhaled sharply, an anxious, almost bitter smile tugging at my lips. "LANA, for the love of—just shut up for a second."
There was a pause. Then, her voice returned—calm, firm, but laced with something colder than before."Negative. Pilot Zeervin, your actions are compromising your safety. Reconsider."
That tone.
Not just logic. Not just protocol.
Something else. Something close to frustration.
And I had no idea if that should comfort me or make me worry.