The golden afternoon light softened the ruin-slick rooftops of Chiba Academy, warm and deceiving in its peace.
Eden stood near the ledge, silent as ever, her gaze tracing the descending figure above.
The battleship came into view with slow majesty, slicing through the cloudbank like a god descending from Olympus. Its wings hummed low—quiet enough to respect the moment, loud enough to remind the earth what it meant to wield power. That sleek frame shimmered, sharp and modern but draped in a weight of history that only Eden truly understood.
"...That's not just a ship, is it?" Mei's voice broke the silence first, soft, thoughtful.
"No," Eden replied gently. "It's a cradle. A warning. And sometimes… a second chance."
Victor squinted at the ship, his posture relaxed but wary. "Military? Civilian?" he muttered, hand casually resting against his hip.
Eden didn't answer.
"Hoooooly crap," Kiana whispered, cupping her eyes as if it would help focus through the light. "Is that a—wait—what is that? A school bus for important people?! Are we the important people!?"
Yuzuki scoffed lightly from behind her. "Looks more like an air fortress than anything. And by the way it's aiming our way—I'm guessing we're the guests."
"Not guests," Eden said softly, not looking away. "Not yet."
The others fell quiet. The ship slowed, casting its colossal shadow over them like the wing of a long-dead phoenix.
Then, with a final, elegant hiss of hydraulics, a hatch opened near its midsection. Steam escaped in curling tendrils, and a single figure emerged.
A red cloak whipped in the wind.
The woman stood tall against the afternoon sky, her braid catching sunlight like wildfire, her arms crossed, her eyes sharp.
"She's not using a transport line," Eden murmured.
Victor's eyes narrowed.
The figure stepped off the ship.
And fell.
No rope. No support. Just crimson wind against her back as she dropped like a comet straight toward them, boots pointed, body angled as though the fall itself was merely another conversation to begin.
Victor stepped forward instinctively, sliding ahead of Eden and Mei in a single, fluid motion.
No hesitation.
He didn't know who she was.
Didn't care.
Dust blasted around them as her boots slammed down against the rooftop tiles—clean, exact, leaving only a spiderweb of cracks beneath her feet.
She rose.
Crimson coat. Hardened gaze. Arms crossed as if she were assessing each of them before she even spoke.
Victor didn't flinch.
Mei, just behind him, stiffened. Yuzuki tilted his head with the faintest hum of curiosity. Kiana looked like she was holding her breath to stop from yelling something embarrassing.
Eden smiled faintly, her voice silk.
"…It's nice to see you again, Himeko."
Himeko's eyes didn't move from Victor.
"So," she said, voice low and rough like a blade dragged across stone. "You're the one."
Victor didn't respond.
He just met her gaze—calm, level, unflinching.
The wind settled.
The sky stilled.
___________________________________
The halls of the battleship thrummed softly beneath their boots, as if the ship itself was slowly waking up around them. Cold metal hummed with distant energy, the quiet before something inevitable. Warm afternoon light filtered through high windows, dusting the corridor in gold.
Himeko walked at the front, hands folded behind her back, her coat swaying gently with each step. She glanced sideways at the figure beside her and raised an eyebrow.
"…You know, you haven't aged a day," Himeko said with a smirk, letting the words hang like a playful jab. "Still as radiant as ever. Did you dip yourself in liquid music or something?"
Eden smiled, her steps elegant as ever. "That's very kind of you. But I must admit—" she touched her cheek with a small, playful tilt of the head, "—I think it's just the power of a maiden in love."
Himeko chuckled. "Tch. You don't have to brag."
"Oh my," Eden replied, not missing a beat. " Jealous are we? There's no need to rush, you know? It'll come when you meet the right person."
Behind them, Victor blinked. He didn't say anything, but his hand gave a slight squeeze to Eden's. She glanced back at him with a knowing smile, then turned forward again. Mei hovered just to his side, her steps barely audible as she reached up occasionally to adjust her grip on the back of his shirt. Her fingers clenched gently in the fabric, like she was afraid he'd disappear.
"I told you not to run in a battleship!" Yuzuki's voice rang out from the rear of the group, half scolding, half panicking.
"But it's so coooooool!" Kiana howled, bolting around a pillar before leaping over a railing and spinning back onto the walkway with zero concern for safety or gravity.
"Stop jumping!" Yuzuki cried, chasing her with his arms flailing. "There are protocols here! Doors! Walls! Expensive things!"
Victor gave a tiny sigh but didn't look back. Mei stifled a small laugh.
"Don't worry," Eden said softly. "She's already broken something worse than this ship."
Victor's smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "My patience?"
"Her dignity."
The doors at the end of the corridor parted with a gentle hiss.
Inside, the bridge was alive.
Dozens of technicians moved between consoles, tapping through radar scans, structural repairs, and aerial telemetry. Screens pulsed with data. The central command station sat on a raised dais, and at its heart—commanding with a tone far older than her appearance allowed—stood Theresa Apocalypse.
"Divert main power to the secondary thrusters. Launch the drones to sector 7—watch for residual Honkai particles. Tell Medical to prep recovery pods for civilians still inbound, I want that bay sealed in five—"
She turned just slightly as the doors opened.
And stopped.
Beside her, poised with practiced grace, was a figure draped in silken cherry-colored cloth. A gentle smile on her face, her hands folded neatly in front of her.
Sakura.
Her kimono rippled faintly as the breeze from the entrance touched the room.
Sakura's gaze lingered not just on Yuzuki—but on something far older inside him. Something she recognized.
Something that hurt.
A beat of silence. The kind that doesn't feel like waiting—but like breathing.
"Welcome to the bridge," Theresa continued softly, a tiny smile rising to meet her words. "All of you."