The sound of chatter filled the air, an ever-present hum even in the dead of night. The city never truly rested. Streets glowed under the vibrant mix of streetlights and holographic displays that painted their shifting colors across towering buildings and moving crowds. Seraniti strode purposefully through the crowd, her posture relaxed but her mind preoccupied as she headed toward one of the many sprawling commercial districts.
I ate too much again… she thought, letting out a silent groan. Her hand brushed against her stomach as if scolding herself. Sigh… I'd much rather not do anything today.
The streets were alive, bustling with people going about their business as the night pulsed with activity. Conversations overlapped with faint laughter and the occasional shout. A child's excited voice broke through the din, drawing Seraniti's attention for a brief moment.
"Momma, look! She has a box like Daddy!"
The little girl tugged insistently at her Liberi mother's sleeve, her wide eyes fixed on Svalinn, which rested at Seraniti's side. The Liberi smiled softly, picking the child up and murmuring something in a soothing tone. Seraniti didn't linger, letting her gaze fall forward as she moved on, her focus shifting back to the task at hand.
After several minutes of walking, she stopped outside a store she hadn't visited before. Its modern, polished exterior gleamed under the bright signage, showcasing sleek weapons and tools neatly displayed in the window. The clean, structured layout stood out even from the street. Might as well check out someplace new before leaving tomorrow, she mused, stepping toward the entrance.
The doors slid open with a faint hiss, a rush of cool air brushing against her skin as she stepped inside. The store's interior was vast and meticulously organized. Rows of shelves stretched across the space, each section marked with holographic labels suspended in midair. Customers moved through the aisles in steady streams, while the low murmur of conversation mixed with the soft hum of machinery operating in the background.
"Hey, what can I help you with?"
The shopkeeper's voice came from a counter at the rear of the store. She was focused on a piece of equipment in her hands, a driver partially disassembled and spread out across her workstation. Sparks flickered briefly as her tools moved with practiced precision, the faint smell of heated metal lingering in the air. Despite her focus, she glanced up briefly to acknowledge Seraniti's approach.
"I need recharge battery rods and a refill on a resource canister," Seraniti said, her voice steady as she approached the counter.
With a subtle mental command, she used
The shopkeeper's gaze flicked to the items on the counter, her sharp eyes briefly assessing their condition before she tapped on a floating screen in front of her. Her fingers moved quickly across the interface, navigating through inventory menus with practiced efficiency before flicking her wrist. She stretched her palm over the battery rods and canister, and the items floated effortlessly as she walked toward a nearby workstation to refill them. Ancient magic while not rare is not common either, though telekinetics was the most common of all ancient types.
Seraniti's attention shifted to the workbench nearby. The sight of the disassembled driver laid out on its surface caught her eye, its meticulously arranged components gleaming under the store's bright lights. She leaned closer, her gaze tracing the familiar pieces with quiet curiosity. It's been a while since I've used one. They haven't changed much.
Drivers, the counterpart to Arms. There's the chassis which serves as the shell and what houses the rest. The safety trigger which needs double the force to fire. The white fox kohl chip that functions as the processor for the driver.
She coughed as black particles left her mouth as she wiped her mouth. The receiver which draws collapse fluid from the battery pouch and preps it. The releaser which turns the processed fluid into power and its other parts which I can't remember. The barrel which houses a good portion of the components and has an interior layer to manage heat. And last but not least, the battery pouch which houses the collapse fluid needed to fire shots.
The details remained etched in her memory, even if some of the finer nuances eluded her. The precision and craftsmanship of a driver were undeniable, and seeing one up close reminded her of how integral they were in the world around her.
Her thoughts drifted as the shopkeeper returned, the battery rods and resource canister floating beside her. She set them down gently on the counter and reached for a clean cloth, wiping them down with care before speaking.
"All right, I've recalibrated them back to normal operational status. Each battery rod should now last thirty-six shots. For the canister, it's been refilled with magicules alongside the required metals in a particle-like state, per regulations," the shopkeeper said, her voice calm but businesslike. Her eyes glowed faintly as she gave the items one final inspection, ensuring everything was in perfect working order.
"That'll be 1,200 UEC for the battery rods and 320 for the canister, please." she added, her tone softening slightly.
Seraniti gave a small nod and silently collected the items. The rods slid smoothly back into Svalinn's compartments, each one clicking into place with a satisfying precision. The resource canister followed, locking into its slot with a soft hiss that signaled readiness.
She gestured toward the shopkeeper, authorizing the payment. A faint chime confirmed the transaction, and Seraniti stepped back, her weapon fully operational once again. She glanced briefly at the disassembled driver one last time before turning toward the exit, her thoughts already moving to the journey ahead.
As she waved goodbye to the shopkeeper, Seraniti stepped out of the store and onto the bustling streets, her communicator in hand. The cool night air carried the faint hum of the city, a backdrop to the ever-present activity that never seemed to wane. With a quick tap, she called Zora to confirm everything was ready for their departure in two hours. To her surprise, Zora answered almost instantly.
"Yess, Mashaa? I'm just finishing cleaning the apartment," Zora said, her voice slightly muffled as if she were speaking while in motion.
"Ah, well, I was just going to say I'm done, so we could start heading down to the port now," Seraniti replied casually, stepping into the streetlight's glow.
Zora's tone turned thoughtful. "Mmm. We'll meet there then. See ya."
The call ended with a soft chime as Seraniti hailed a nearby cab. The vehicle glided smoothly to her side, its glossy exterior reflecting the city's colorful lights. She secured Svalinn into the rack on the car's roof with care, ensuring it was tightly locked before sliding into the back seat. The driver took her instructions with a polite nod before starting the journey toward the port.
The faint hum of the engine and the gentle swaying of the cab lulled Seraniti into a sense of calm. She leaned back against the seat, letting her eyes drift shut. I'll just take a quick nap for now, she thought, exhaustion tugging at her consciousness.
"Mashaa? Wake up. We're about to take off."
Zora's voice broke through Seraniti's haze, accompanied by an unexpected tug on her feathers. Her eyes shot open as she jolted upright, wincing at the slight sting.
"Ah! Déjala ir, you fucker! Eso duele!" she snapped, batting at Zora's hand while glaring half-heartedly.
Zora only laughed, the corners of her mouth curling into an impish grin. "You wouldn't wake up, so I did what I had to. Besides, isn't this your first time leaving the country?"
Seraniti rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath as she massaged the ruffled feathers atop her head.
"We're already in the air, you asshole. Sigh."
Stretching out the stiffness in her limbs, Seraniti wandered toward the balcony connected to their living room. As she stepped outside, the vast expanse of the sky greeted her. The gentle hum of the ship's reactor reverberated through the air, a low, constant reminder of their altitude.
What? Did you think airplanes exist in Terra II? Of course not.
She gazed out over the horizon, the serene view calming her irritation. Airplanes wouldn't be able to fly for long here, besides airplane isn't a thing that exists in Terra II. Maybe in the past, but such things are long lost in the many civilizations that came—for better or for worse. The distances between countries are far too vast—it would take weeks even in the best conditions. Aerial ships on the other hand, their reactors can keep them running for a very long time. But the people onboard? They would unfortunately not last as long without food.
The ship itself exceeded her expectations. Its luxurious design made the journey far more bearable than she had anticipated. The polished interior and carefully crafted spaces exuded an air of refinement, each detail meticulously designed for comfort. But they were not the only people who boarded the ship, it costed them several UEC to get a ticket to Yamatai.
Good thing we shipped everything out a few days ago, she thought with satisfaction. Her belongings were already en route, including her prized bebe, safely secured and waiting for her at their destination.
Glancing back into the room, she saw Zora lounging on the plush sofa, her earlier mischief replaced by a calm contentment. Catching Seraniti's gaze, she flashed another grin, this one more genuine than teasing.
"Good thing we got everything sorted in advance," Seraniti murmured to herself, leaning against the balcony railing as the ship carried them toward the unknown before sighing softly.
But was this truly fine? Leaving everything behind? Everything she had ever known? The question gnawed at her relentlessly, refusing to let go. What about Eikþyrnir—Elk, as she had always called her? Where was she now? The one she had once called sista before she disappeared, leaving nothing but silence in her wake.
Her feathers drooped slightly as the memory of that day flashed vividly in her mind. The day Elk was no longer there. Seraniti couldn't stop the ache it left behind. And then there was Linde—the one who had cared for her, who had been a steady presence in her life—until death stole her away so abruptly that Seraniti was left scrambling to make sense of it.
And her parents? That was another hollow void she couldn't fill. She had asked, over and over again, where they were, only to be met with the same response every time: a sad, distant smile and words that didn't explain anything.
Yeah… Fuck this city. Fuck this country and everything it stands for.
Her grip tightened on the empty air, her fists trembling as if they held all the weight of her frustrations. The wind blew her white hair forward, strands falling over her face, obscuring her eyes from the world around her.
For hours, she remained in that state, unmoving, lost in her thoughts. The world around her carried on, the distant hum of the city blending into background noise. But then, the shrill cry of alarms echoed through the air, breaking the stillness like shattering glass.
The wind picked up again, stronger this time, brushing her hair back and exposing her face. Her eyes changed—those same eyes from when her journey had begun. Sad. Hurt. Disappointed.
It was there for a heartbeat. And in that heartbeat, the world seemed to shift.
For a split second, she wasn't standing anymore. She was on the ground. Blood pooling all around her while soaking into her clothes...clothes that was battered here and there. And her arm— covered in shards of black with a dirty brown tint.
And there—
Seraniti blinked again slowly as it went away, and the rushing ground below came back into focus—a blur of green, black, and brown blending together like a canvas left unfinished.
Because time does not and will not wait for no one, not for the past, not the present and the future. Not even for little Sera. Not. For. You.
The ship rocked violently, throwing Zora from the couch with a loud thud. Seraniti quickly stepped back to avoid being toppled herself, then dashed toward Zora, helping her to her feet. Zora wobbled unsteadily for a moment before shaking her head and bolting toward her swords—Mŕtvy, a pair gleaming in black, blue, and gold.
Another jarring shake sent both women stumbling to the floor. Seraniti hissed as her shoulder hit the wall, but she pushed herself up quickly, her movements deliberate despite the chaos. The alarms were deafening now, their shrill tones mingling with the creaking groans of the ship's strained hull.
"Ack! Fuck, doors shut!" Seraniti growled as she reached their room, only to slam into the unyielding surface of the locked door. She stumbled back, shaking her head to clear the disorientation before snapping her fingers. The sharp sound reverberated, and the glass panel near the door frame splintered in response. Cracks spiderwebbed across its surface, but the shards held in place, as if suspended by an unseen force.
Her eyes darted around the room, locking onto a heavy-looking chair. Without hesitation, she grabbed it, muscles straining as she hefted it with both hands before hurling it toward the door. The impact was immediate and satisfying—the chair smashed straight through, shattering the obstruction and leaving a jagged opening in its wake.
"Oi! Mashaa! I'll grab some supplies from somewhere!" Zora's voice cut through the cacophony as she disappeared into the chaos, her usual casual demeanor replaced with a sharper edge. The ship tilted slightly, forcing Zora to brace herself momentarily before vanishing from sight. She had already swapped into more comfortable clothes, clearly ready for action.
Seraniti raised a hand without looking back, giving a thumbs-up as acknowledgment. She darted into their room, heading straight for Svalinn, which hung securely on its rack. Her movements were quick but precise. Reaching for a drawer, she yanked it open, her fingers fumbling briefly before finding a small box.
She flipped the lid open and retrieved Svalinn's control chip, her expression tightening as she scanned it quickly for any signs of damage. With a practiced motion, she slotted the chip into one of her ports, the connection triggering an immediate flood of data across her vision. Lines of text, diagnostics, and systems flashed rapidly before clearing, confirming operational status.
Seraniti reached for Svalinn, making a pulling gesture as the weapon chimed faintly in response. The locks disengaged, and Svalinn floated effortlessly to her side, steady even as the ship's tilting grew more pronounced.
From the bed, she grabbed her jacket, slipping it on swiftly as her hands moved with purpose. Her fingers brushed against the crystalline black rain trinkets resting nearby, and she scooped them up, carefully sliding them into a secure pocket on the jacket.
Suddenly, the ship's automated systems blared loudly, the synthetic voice harsh and unrelenting:
WARNING—ALTITUDE DROPPING! 8000 FT! BACKUP ONLINE!
The announcement sent a cold chill racing down her spine, but before she could react further, another message followed:
WARNING—ESTIMATED LANDING IN: THE CREST.
Seraniti gritted her teeth, her grip tightening as she steadied herself against the wall. The Crest? Of all places, why there? She didn't have time to process the full implications—the ship lurched again, violently enough to nearly send her sprawling. She needed to focus.
This time, when Seraniti went to leave her room, the doors slid open without resistance. Much to her frustration, they functioned perfectly now—where was that efficiency earlier? she thought bitterly. She stepped through into the lounge, her movements quick and deliberate.
Grabbing Svalinn's operator handle, she positioned it firmly in front of her as she rushed into the hallway. Pausing briefly, she turned her head to scan the area, her sharp gaze sweeping over the corridor ahead. With a flick of her wrist, two smaller
While the screens were called hielaman, their name was a mere nod to their old world designs—they were far from wooden. The larger of the two screens remained semi-transparent to her, a useful feature for maintaining visibility, though anyone facing her would see only a print on it. The smaller shield floated to her side, maintaining a defensive formation as she turned her attention to the pouch attached to it.
Opening the pouch, Seraniti quickly pulled out an arm. Her fingers moved deftly, checking the ammunition she had on hand. The action was second nature—quick, practiced, and efficient. She racked the arm a few times, the satisfying mechanical sound grounding her in the moment.
Okay… all good for now, she thought, taking a steadying breath. She scanned her surroundings again, taking note of the layout in her immediate vicinity.
Dining Hall, Bar, and a Store from 3:45. Her mental map pieced itself together quickly. The store was the closest, but it was likely occupied—too much of a risk right now. However, the ship's small armory was just down the hallway to the left of the store.
All right! Armory it is—we'll need more of this stuff if we want to live.
Seraniti crouched slightly as she moved forward, her posture low but purposeful. Svalinn's main body hovered steadily behind her, providing coverage for her rear as she advanced. The hallway felt longer than it was, every sound amplified by the tension in the air.
The screens around her glinted faintly in the dim emergency lighting, a constant reassurance that her defenses were active. She could feel the weight of each step, the stakes pressing down on her like the ship's unstable atmosphere. But there was no hesitation.
Focus. Get to the armory. Regroup. Survive.
Her thoughts marched in time with her steps, each one propelling her closer to her destination and the uncertain challenges waiting ahead.