Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Hello everyone! I'm new to this, so I have no idea what I'm doing, so please just bear with me! The story is currently ongoing, but I have big plans for this.

I want start things slow for this story. The sheer number of characters is going to be a challenge, and I'm excited about how I'm going to make this work. I have a few surprises here and there, and I'm sure you guys will love it.

There will be updates to the chapters already posted as I go on, but I assure you guys that they are minimal fixes only.

Please comment too!

Notice:

• English is not my primary language.
• There is no beta reading. 
• I did not play all of the Final Fantasy series.
• This is just for funsies!

Update:

• Title changed from Crystal Vanguard to Dissidia: Vanguard Saga
• I've allowed not to limit the number of characters from the same franchise, but only if it fits the story.

Chapter Text

The sky shattered without warning in the modern world, jagged tears of violet and green light fracturing the atmosphere above cities worldwide. From Tokyo’s neon-drenched sprawl to New York’s concrete canyons, rifts pulsed with unearthly energy, spewing nightmarish creatures onto Earth.

Horned behemoths with molten hides tore through Shanghai’s streets, toppling cranes like toys. In London, winged serpents coiled around Big Ben, their screeches drowning panicked crowds. Rio de Janeiro’s beaches churned as crab-like colossi crushed boardwalks into splinters. Social media erupted, with #RiftInvasion trending globally, amassing billions of views in hours.

“Aliens?” one post questioned. “Godzilla’s cousins?” another quipped, fear lacing the humor.

World governments scrambled. The UN convened an emergency session and broadcast it live. Citizens unaffected by the chaos watch with worry. The US deployed jets, tanks, everything. Their moment has finally come, only for their missiles to glance off the monster's hides. Japan reported a Tokyo district leveled, with 200 dead. In Paris, a rift’s eerie glow bathed the Eiffel Tower as soldiers fired futilely at a spectral knight.

Cable news looped frantic footage, anchors stammering, “Unconfirmed reports of… monsters, defying all known biology.” Social media threads spiraled with conspiracies of secret labs and divine wrath—while CNN scientists cited “quantum anomalies” no one grasped.

Amid the chaos, whispers spread of individuals fighting back with impossible powers. In Paris, a woman in a flowing white-and-red cape struck a monster. In Delhi, a green-haired woman in a red cape raised glowing barriers to shield civilians from a collapsing market as a monster attacked.

Governments, wary, flagged these figures as potential threats from the other world, and a specialized UN task force is already tracking their energy signatures.

Meanwhile, in a sleek Austin penthouse, a billionaire leaned before a wall of screens, media feeds, and news channels flickering as he switched between them. A coffee mug sat beside a tablet buzzing with rift data, while Amara Lin, his sharp-eyed secretary, sorted reports, her crystal pendant glinting.

The billionaire's gaze locked on a grainy video: a parkour athlete in a blue jacket vaulted London’s Piccadilly, slicing a winged serpent. “Parkour Hero Saves Piccadilly!” the caption read. Another screen showed the woman in Delhi, her barriers glowing.

“Remarkable,” he muttered.

“Starlink’s got thirteen signatures, Boss,” Amara said.

“Tied to these… heroes.” Their swords, costumes, and physics-defying magic are all thrilling and unnerving to the billionaire.

He tried to understand the anomalies. From his initial scans, the rifts’ power could be the ultimate renewable source of energy. It is clean, infinite, and THE climate-crisis cure. The monsters? A fixable flaw, with firepower. His initial thoughts were to create an army of robots, perhaps huge ones. A formula suddenly appeared in his mind.

“If these warriors fight the monsters..." He paced, Tesla keys jangling. "Then I'll be able to study the rifts..."

Then it struck him like lightning. It was perhaps the best and most epic idea he’d ever come up with. He spread his hands in the air, envisioning it.

“There was an idea…” he quoted.

Amara already knew where he was going with this. She rolled her eyes at that. Her eyes linger on the video of a woman with green hair, her barriers saving lives.

“I don't like where this is going, Boss."

“‘A group of remarkable people...’” he posed dramatically, “‘to fight the battles we never could.’ Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist—let’s make history.”

His secretary can only facepalm. Once he set his mind on something, she knew he wouldn't stop.

The billionaire turned to the night cityscape from his window. Days earlier he had the entire world in his hands, figuratively. But there is always something missing. Out of nowhere his laughter was sharp and menacing. Amara, surprised by his sudden outbursts, just shook her head. She has been working for him for years, and yet she can never fully grasp the mind of this man.

“Redirect a satellite, Amara.” He collected himself, clearing his throat. “We’re gathering intel.”

"Sir?! That will cost a lot of propellant and—" but she can see his mind is elsewhere already. She exhaled, "...Alright, sir."

Chapter Text

Chapter 1: Storm of a New World

The alley reeked of damp stone and sour wine, its narrow path wedged between crumbling buildings. Amid the gloom, Lightning’s pink hair stood out sharply. She stirred, her white-and-red cape catching on debris, and brushed dirt from her armor as a throbbing headache pulsed. 

Above, a violet-green rift shimmered, bathing Paris in an eerie glow. The sky flickered with unnatural hues before settling back to blue. 

Her mind was clouded—instincts razor-sharp, skills second nature, but no memories to ground them. She knew her name, her power, the heft of her Crimson Blitz saber, but nothing else. Shaking her head, she tried to clear the fog. 

Stepping cautiously from the alley, she saw panicked bystanders fleeing. The blare of car horns and flashing screens felt foreign, jarring her senses. Screams and distant explosions drowned out her headache, pulling her focus. 

A guttural roar snapped her head around. A spectral knight tore through a nearby street. 

Gunfire ripped the air as a sleek, unfamiliar aircraft unleashed a barrage, staggering the knight. Lightning stood frozen, watching civilians stream past, some eyeing her strange outfit, mistaking her for a runway model. 

The knight dodged a missile and hurled its massive sword, piercing the aircraft’s cockpit. The craft plummeted behind unseen buildings, and the knight advanced to reclaim its weapon, ready to continue its rampage. 

Before she realized it, Lightning was sprinting toward the fray, driven by an urge to protect. This world wasn’t hers, but safeguarding it felt like a calling etched into her soul. 

On the Champs-Élysées, the knight slashed at fleeing crowds, shrugging off soldiers’ bullets. Lightning charged, her saber gleaming, lightning sparking through her veins. She leaped, unleashing a storm of slashes and electric bursts that staggered the beast. It swung its blade. She dodged nimbly and drove her saber into its core. 

The knight dissolved, its rift energy fading, but civilian phones flashed, capturing her fight. Their devices buzzed with #RiftInvasion, a phrase she’d caught amid the chaos. 

Instead of gratitude, the soldiers turned on her, their fear and confusion mistaking her for another rift-spawned foe. She darted away with uncanny speed, slipping into an alley as her heart pounded. The soldiers, distracted by other monsters, didn’t follow. 

With a swift wall-jump, she reached the rooftops for a better view. Despite the stunning skyline, chaos reigned—smoke choked the air, and sleek aircraft streaked above. 

Night had fallen, and the fighting had eased. Rescuers freed people from rubble, medics tended the wounded, and armored vehicles patrolled tense streets. The city remained on edge. 

Exhausted, Lightning evaded soldiers, her lack of preparation for this world weighing heavily. She relied on her honed skills and sharp mind to survive. 

Leaning against a wall to catch her breath, she grappled with her missing memories. Her stoic resolve held firm, pushing her to focus: survive, find answers. 

Ordinary people were approachable, but the soldiers, ever-present, saw her powers as a threat, mistaking her for a rift monster. 

Hunger and fatigue gnawed at her, undeniable despite her warrior instincts. She stumbled upon a quiet diner, its flickering neon sign a beacon amid the turmoil. Inside, it was nearly empty, the owner watching warily from the windows. 

Her pink hair and odd attire drew his skeptical glance as she entered, but he allowed it, the chaos outside overshadowing her strangeness. 

Slumping into a corner booth. The scent of stale coffee and grilled bread stirred her growling stomach. She didn’t bother with the menu at all, she moved her hand at her temple as she pondered her next move. The Gil in her pocket was useless in this world’s currency. 

After hours, a doorbell chimed as a stranger approached. Her instincts flared, bracing for a fight, but he merely ordered at the counter. 

To her surprise, he slid into her booth as the owner set plates before her. 

“You look like you’ve fought a war and missed dinner,” he said, his tone casual yet calculated. 

Lightning tensed, her hand hovering near her saber, wary of kindness in this strange world. 

“Who are you?” she asked, voice low, eyes narrowing. 

“I’m Elon,” he replied, leaning back. 

“Saw you out there, pink-haired badass, taking down that ghost-knight thing. Impressive.” 

He tapped a tablet, displaying a grainy clip of her Champs-Élysées fight earlier. 

“You’re a natural—saving people, no hesitation. But the soldiers shooting at you? They don’t get it. You’re not the threat, the rifts are.” 

“What do you want? Get to the point,” Lightning said, arms crossed, her stoic resolve masking her mind’s emptiness. 

Elon cleared his throat. 

“I’ve been studying those rifts for some time now. Demon invaders pouring from them, causing havoc.” 

“And you’re assuming I’m a demon too?” Lightning’s eyes flared. 

“No, no. I can tell you’re not one of them. Maybe got brought in by accident. I can help you.” 

His perception startled her. Though he seemed human, his presence carried an indescribable weight. He might hold answers, but he was dangerous. 

“What’s the catch?” she pressed, sensing an ulterior motive. 

“Those rifts are power—clean, infinite, the key to ending fossil fuels, saving the planet from climate collapse. Only problem? The monsters. That’s where you come in.” 

Lightning’s gaze sharpened. 

“You want me to clean up the mess for your scientific endeavors?” Her tone was sharp, skeptical. “If I refuse?” 

“There are more out there, like you—warriors, scattered, fighting. I could go to them instead. The world governments see you all as a threat. A specialized UN task force is already tracking you, and they’re not friendly.” 

“I’m guessing that’s how you found me.” 

“Precisely. Thanks to me, their trail has gone cold.” 

Lightning paused, considering the others like her. She didn’t know what the UN was, but she never underestimated a foe. 

“So here’s the deal,” Elon pitched. 

“You gather everyone with abilities like yourself, form a team. Fight whatever’s coming out of those things in the sky, as I study it for energy and help you get home.” 

Her face remained neutral, her eyes betraying deep thought. Sensing hesitation, Elon pressed on. 

“I’ve got a warehouse in Nevada, hidden, secure. No more running. You can set up there.” 

Safety appealed to her, with the world seemingly against her. 

“I call it the Vanguard Initiative,” he continued. “Together, you stop the monsters, we harness the rifts, everybody wins.” 

“Vanguard Initiative?” She rolled her eyes. 

Elon, a shrewd businessman, sensed he was close to winning her over. 

“This world’s falling apart,” he urged. “You’re out there fighting, no questions asked. Join me, and we’ll give you a team, a plan, a way to stop this. Those people you saved? They need you.” 

No past, no home, just a crumbling world. Elon’s plan sounded noble, but his ambition felt slippery. Still, the other warriors called to her—answers might lie with them. 

“This team,” she said firmly, “runs my way. No games.” 

Elon’s grin widened, thrilled she’d agreed. He offered his hand before she could reconsider. 

“Deal,” she exhaled, ignoring his hand, her stoic resolve unyielding. “But if you’re lying, you’ll answer to me.” 

“Okay, okay. Let me make a few phone calls.” 

Lightning hoped she’d chosen wisely. She pulled the plate closer and ate. 

A woman bursts in later on, spotting Elon and heading straight for them. 

“This is Amara Lin, my secretary. Well… not anymore, as I’ve assigned her to help you out.” 

Amara looked stunned by the sudden reassignment. 

“But sir!” She already doubted Elon’s Vanguard Initiative, and managing it was another level entirely. 

Shaking her head in frustration, she accepted there was no changing his mind and hoped the pay was worth it. Then, recalling her urgent purpose, she snapped to attention. 

“Sir! French special forces are already looking for her!” She gestured to Lightning. “The plane’s ready.” 

“Crap! Let’s go.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 2: Shadows of Sanctuary

Lightning dropped the heavy duffel bag, its weight thudding against the Nevada desert ground as she watched the luxury helicopter vanish into the night sky.

She slung the bag over her shoulder, its contents shifting, and began pacing the compound’s perimeter, eyes scanning for security flaws.  Fences encircled the area and sturdy.

She spotted two gates: a small one linking to the distant hum of a bustling factory, secured with locks and warning signs to keep curious workers at bay, and a larger gate for vehicles, also tightly sealed. The factory’s noise felt far enough to offer solitude, which suited her. 

She recalled the labeled keys tucked inside the bag. Fumbling with them at the warehouse’s massive door, she couldn’t shake the feeling of being caged, watched.

With a smooth push, she slid the heavy door aside. The interior was pitch-black until she found the light switch, revealing a pristine, unused space, the air sharp with fresh paint. 

Musk had explained this was a surplus compound, freed up after streamlining his factory’s production. He didn’t need it, so he’d handed it to Lightning as a starting point for the Vanguard Initiative. She sighed, the gesture heavy with skepticism, and winced at the paint’s lingering sting in her nose. 

Her mind raced with ideas—communications hub here, monitoring station there, perhaps a garage—but she halted. Planning felt premature; she was alone. Switching off the lights, she headed to the adjacent building Musk had mentioned, its silhouette looming against the desert stars. 

Originally meant for offices, the building now housed rooms for her future team. Climbing to the fourth floor, she chose a room overlooking the vast desert and dropped her bag. The space was functional but clearly rushed—bare walls, basic furniture, a makeshift home.

With nothing else to do, she unzipped the duffel, spreading its contents across the bed. She pushed aside a packed meal and opened an envelope, revealing a card. Musk had promised to cover her financial needs, but his generosity felt like a trap.

If he’s rigged this place with bombs, they won’t stop me, she thought, her stoic resolve unyielding. 

Digging further, she pulled out a smaller bag containing an unfamiliar device—a computer, she guessed. A handheld gadget caught her eye; Musk had used one like it on the flight, so she assumed it was for communication and kept it close. She’d been told everything was set up, including something called “the internet,” which she didn’t understand.

The bag also held basic clothes—simple but practical. She couldn’t complain. In the bathroom, she wrestled with the shower’s heat controls, struggling to make sense of this world’s technology. Once she got it right, the warm water was hard to leave.

Dressed in casual clothes, she carried her packed meal to the shared kitchen on the ground floor. The microwave baffled her; heating food here felt worlds apart from wherever she’d come from. 

Chewing slowly, she stared into the distance, loneliness settling in. She probed her missing memories, but her mind stayed blank. Her only lead was Musk, the enigmatic billionaire researching the rifts she suspected had brought her here. 

The past few days had been a blur of close calls, dodging authorities with Amara’s help. Musk’s secretary had skillfully diverted pursuit, keeping Lightning off the UN’s radar.

As if on cue, the phone on the table buzzed to life.  It took a moment to figure out how to answer. Amara’s voice crackled through. 

“Lightning, can you hear me?” 

“Loud and clear.” 

“I’ve done what I could to set up the place on short notice. Let me know if you need anything, okay?” 

“Got it.” 

“I mean it. Boss is weirdly obsessed with this for reasons I can’t fathom. He even gave you one of his cards.” 

“Cards? Oh, you mean…” 

“Yeah, your Gil doesn’t work here. Boss loaded that card with serious money. Use it freely.” 

“Where do I buy stuff?” 

“There’s a supermarket near the factory. They’ve got everything you need.” 

“Okay. Thanks.” 

“You’re not big on words, are you? Don’t worry, I’ll keep the world off your back.” 

Lightning didn’t know Amara well, but her empathy shone through, a stark contrast to Musk’s slick ambition. Their earlier talk came to mind. 

“My alibis?” 

“Right! You’re now officially the Private Security Trainer hired for our factory, in case anyone asks. Your name might raise eyebrows, though, so we should change it.” 

“Claire.” The name slipped out, surprising even her. “Claire Farron.” 

Of all any fragment of her past her head is aching for, only her name surfaced.

“Huh? Okay, I’ll add Claire Farron to our database to keep snoopers at bay. I’ll tweak your photo too—your pink hair stands out.” She hesitates,

“Is it natural? Did you—” 

“Amara.” 

“Right! Sure you don’t want our other alibi idea? It fits what witnesses saw in France.” 

Lightning groaned. The thought of posing as a model for Musk’s companies was mortifying. She’ll take that to her grave. She shifted the topic. 

“Any news on the others like me?” 

“We’ve got two leads. A woman in India—general location pinned. The guy in the UK keeps slipping away, making a spectacle of himself.” 

“India? UK? I don’t know what you mean.” 

“No worries, your phone has GPS—a map that tracks your location live.” 

“Got it.” She exhaled deeply. “I’ll go for the woman in India first, then the guy from the… other place.” 

“Yes, ma’am. Chopper’s coming first thing tomorrow. Rest up.” 

“Who’s Chopper?” 

Amara’s laughter echoed through the line.

Chapter Text

Chapter 3: Mission One

The chopper’s blades thrummed like a relentless heartbeat, slicing through the humid night air as it descended over Delhi’s chaotic skyline. Violet-green rifts pulsed above the city, their eerie glow casting jagged shadows across the crowded streets below. Lightning slid the helicopter door open, her cape snapping in the warm, spice-laden breeze. Her pink hair gleamed under the rift light, and her sharp eyes scanned the chaotic market below, where vibrant stalls of silk and saffron lay in ruins, trampled under panic.

Her mission was clear: find the green-haired woman and convince her to join her. But Delhi was a tinderbox ready to ignite. Rift-spawned monsters tore through the city, and local forces prowled, their handheld scanners humming as they hunted anomalies, including Lightning herself.

A massive, scorpion-like rift beast dominated the market, its obsidian carapace glinting like polished midnight, reflecting the neon signs of nearby shops. Its pincers, each the size of a motorbike, ripped through wooden stalls, sending vendors and shoppers fleeing in a cacophony of screams. The air reeked of burning oil and crushed spices, mingling with the crack of gunfire from the local soldiers, their bullets sparking uselessly off the creature’s armored hide.

“You’re good! I’ll provide overwatch and update you through your earpiece. Don’t drop it!” Amara shouted from the pilot’s seat, her voice barely cutting through the rotor’s roar. Her crystal pendant glinted as she adjusted controls, her face tense under the cockpit’s dim glow.

Lightning double-checked the earpiece, securing it against her ear with a practiced motion. She flashed Amara a thumbs-up, her stoic expression unwavering, and leaped from the chopper. Her boots hit a tiled rooftop with the grace of a panther, startling Amara, who gasped at the sudden exit. The city sprawled beneath Lightning, a labyrinth of narrow alleys and flickering lights, alive with panic and the distant wail of sirens.

The chaos would draw out the green-haired lady, but the risk to civilians gnawed at Lightning’s core. She couldn’t let innocents die—not in this world that wasn’t hers but demanded her protection. With local authorities likely mobilizing and UN drones possibly en-route, she needed to move fast.

“I have a visual. Your three o’clock,” Amara’s voice hummed through the earpiece, steady despite the chaos.

Lightning’s gaze snapped to the right, spotting her target: a woman with unmistakable green hair, flowing like emerald silk, weaving through the crowd with swift steps. Her red cape billowed, and faint glimmers of magic trailed her hands—a warrior from another world, just as out of place as Lightning. Determined to reach her, Lightning leaped from the rooftop. She landed amidst splintered crates.

The scorpion cut her off, its massive claw swiping inches from her face, the air hissing with its speed. Lightning vaulted backward, narrowly dodging, her cape flaring. A nearby shop’s glass storefront had shattered, trapping a family inside, their terrified faces pressed against the debris. The green-haired woman was slipping further away, her figure blurring in the crowd. The family’s screams made Lightning’s decision for her. With tactical precision, she leveled her Crimson Blitz at the scorpion.

“Looks like I have to deal with you first,” she said, charging into the fray, her boots kicking up dust.

Despite its hulking size, the beast moved with alarming speed, its claws slicing through the air like scythes. It was easy enough for her shield to stop it, but she can’t take any chances.

Her saber met the creature’s claw in a shower of sparks, the impact reverberating up her arms. With a surge of strength, she drove the blade upward, its claws staggering skyward. With blistering speeds, she moved fast under its underbelly, swiping her blade all over the softer armor. She prepared a stronger slash, then to her surprise, the scorpion jumped high into the air.

She expected it to gain some distance form her, but it instead came back crashing down. Lightning dove aside, avoiding being crushed as a cloud of dust and ash erupted, stinging her lungs.

Coughing, she blinked as dirt lodged in her eyes, blurring her vision. Her instincts screamed, honed from battles she couldn’t remember. Sensing an attack, she rolled to the side, the scorpion’s venomous tail grazing past, its barbed tip glinting with a sickly green sheen. She couldn’t take a hit like that. The tail struck again, relentless, each blow kicking up more smoke and debris.

Her breath hitched, but she trusted her senses, weaving through the flurry of attacks with preternatural grace. Fresh air hit her as she leaped high above the smoke, her cape trailing like a comet’s tail. Below, the beast’s silhouette thrashed in the haze, unaware of her position. It struck blindly ahead, its claws raking empty ground.

Lightning charged her attack, spinning midair with her Crimson Blitz blazing. The strike hit like a thunderbolt, dispersing the smoke in a shockwave. The beast collapsed under its own weight, Lightning’s blow shaking the ground.

Perched atop its carapace, she swiftly severed its tail, the barbed appendage soaring through the air and landing amidst scattered market wares. She landed back on the ground, assessing the wounded monster as it struggled to rise, its legs twitching feebly.

“Nothing personal,” she said, stepping forward to end it.

“Don’t move!” a voice barked.

Lightning turned, expecting local soldiers, but found a squad in sleek black gear, their uniforms starkly different from the Indian forces. A black helicopter hovered above, its weapons trained on her, its rotors drowning out the market’s chaos. A news chopper circled nearby, its camera capturing the scene for a global audience. Lightning tapped her earpiece.

“Amara, it’s Light. Who are these guys?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t like this. Get out of there, Lightning—they’re fishy!” Amara’s voice was tight with urgency.

Undeterred, Lightning faced the soldiers. “What do you want?”

“Surrender, invader! Weapon on the ground!” Their rifles snapped up, ready to fire without hesitation.

“I don’t think so.” Bullets erupted toward her instantly.

She leaped, evading the barrage, her boots hitting a rooftop as the black helicopter swung into position. Heavy ordnance screamed her way, rockets tearing through stalls with no regard for collateral damage. Lightning ended the threat with a single, precise swing of her sword, cleaving the helicopter in half. Its wreckage crashed in a fiery plume, scattering debris across the market.

“Lightning, we need to exfil!” Amara’s voice crackled.

“Status on that lady!”

“I don’t think we should—”

“Her position!”

“Stand by.”

Lightning vaulted between rooftops, her cape snapping in the humid wind, waiting for Amara’s update. The earpiece buzzed, Amara’s voice now laced with panic.

“Lightning! They’ve captured her! Just west of you—hurry!”

Lightning pivoted, her eyes locking onto a group of black-clad soldiers dragging the unconscious green-haired woman toward an armored vehicle parked in a debris-strewn alley.

“Target 2 is on our six!” one soldier shouted, spotting Lightning.

The squad was no match for her. Their bullets missed as she closed the distance with blinding speed. She reached the woman, finding her unresponsive, a tranquilizer dart protruding from her shoulder.

“Damn it,” Lightning muttered.

The vehicle’s turret swiveled. Scooping up the woman, Lightning leaped over the armored car, bullets grazing past. Midair, she swung her blade, slicing the vehicle’s armor in half. An explosion roared as she landed, the woman secure in her arms, the ground trembling beneath them.

“Amara, I got her! She’s out.”

“Good! We need to get out of here fast!”

Amara’s chopper swooped down, landing in a clearing amidst the chaos. Lightning boarded, gently securing the woman in a seat before climbing in herself. They lifted off as she fastened the stranger’s restraints. Up close, the woman’s outfit—bare shoulders, flowing red cape, an ornate curved sword—felt more alien than Delhi’s vibrant chaos. Her green hair, tied back in a loose braid, shimmered faintly, even in unconsciousness, a stark contrast to her pale, still face.

Taking the copilot seat, Lightning glanced at Amara, whose hands trembled on the controls, her crystal pendant swaying with the chopper’s motion.

“Calm down, Amara. We won’t make it home if you’re like this.”

“We are in deep shit, Lightning! The world’s militaries are after us and now those guys?! What the hell is going on! This is way above my paygrade!” Amara’s voice cracked, her eyes wide with fear.

“You sure they won’t follow?” Lightning gazed back from the window.

“Don’t worry. This chopper’s top-of-the-line, with stealth tech we’ve been developing in secret. Boss was eager to give us this prototype. We’re invisible to them.”

Lightning could only lean back, allowing herself to finally catch her own breath.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4: Wary Welcome

Terra’s eyes fluttered open, the dim glow of a ceiling light piercing the fog in her mind. Her body ached, a dull throb radiating from her shoulder where the tranquilizer dart had struck. She lay on a simple bed in a sparse room, its bare walls and basic furniture illuminated by the soft Nevada moonlight filtering through a small window. The air carried a faint metallic tang, like the warehouse nearby, grounding her in this alien place. 

Her red cape was folded neatly on a chair, her curved sword propped against it, its ornate hilt glinting faintly. She sat up, her green hair spilling loose from its braid, and her hands instinctively sparked with magic, a reflex born of battles she couldn’t recall. 

Where am I?

Her mind raced, fragments of chaos flashing back—the scorpion beast, the screams, the black-clad soldiers closing in, their dart numbing her senses. 

She remembered nothing after that, only the suffocating fear of capture. Now she was here, in a room that felt like a cell, her weapons untouched but her trust shattered. Was this another trap? 

She swung her legs off the bed, her bare feet cold against the tiled floor, and grabbed her sword. With her red cape draped over her shoulders, she crept to the door, ears straining for sounds beyond. Muffled voices drifted from below—two women, one calm and clipped, the other frantic. Terra’s grip tightened on her blade. She didn’t know who had brought her here, but the soldiers in black had called her an “invader.” These people could be their allies—or worse.  

Silently, she descended the stairs from the fourth floor of the repurposed office building, her magic simmering beneath her skin, ready to erupt. The noises from the distant factory did not dull the voices below. The voices grew clearer, coming from a shared kitchen on the ground floor. 

Terra paused at the threshold, peering through the doorway. 

The pink-haired and intimidating woman stood near a counter, her posture rigid yet composed. Across from her, another woman—nervous, her hands fidgeting—spoke rapidly, her voice tinged with panic. 

“Those soldiers in black, Lightning—they weren’t UN or Indian forces,” the other woman said, her words tumbling out. “I’ve never seen their gear before. I did some digging, but there’s nothing on them—not even a whisper. It’s like they don’t exist!” 

The pink-haired woman crossed her arms, her expression stoic but her eyes sharp. She knew Amara had some connections, especially with her boss. But if she was just as confused as her, then this was serious. 

“They called me an invader, same as they did her. They’re hunting us, Amara, and they’re not amateurs. Keep looking. Can you call your boss?” 

Terra’s breath caught. These two knew about the soldiers, but their tone suggested they weren’t allies of the black-clad squad. Still, trust was a luxury she couldn’t afford. The last thing she remembered was fighting to protect civilians, only to be betrayed by a dart. Her magic flared, a faint glow pulsing at her fingertips, as she stepped into the doorway, sword in hand. 

“Who are you people?” Terra’s voice was soft but laced with steel, her green eyes narrowing as they darted between the pair. “And why have you brought me here?” 

Lightning turned, her gaze locking onto Terra with an intensity that matched her own. The pink-haired warrior didn’t reach for her saber, but her stance shifted, ready for anything. “You’re awake,” she said, her voice calm but firm. 

Amara raised her hands, palms open, her crystal pendant swaying. “We’re not with them, I swear! We’re trying to figure out who they are too!” 

Terra’s sword remained steady, her magic pulsing with quiet heat. “You expect me to believe that? I was protecting people, and I woke up here, trapped. For all I know, you’re with those soldiers.” 

Lightning’s eyes flickered, but her expression stayed neutral. “No trap. I was in there to find you. You’re like me—dropped into this world, no memories, fighting the monsters. I saw you shielding civilians before they took you down. I risked my neck to get you out.” 

Terra’s jaw tightened, her mind replaying the chaos. She vaguely recalled a pink-haired figure slashing a scorpion beast as she tried to escape. 

“If you’re telling the truth, why should I trust you?” Terra asked, her voice softer but still guarded, her sword lowering slightly. 

“You don’t have to,” Lightning replied, stepping closer, unafraid of the glowing magic. “Those soldiers are after us both, and there are eleven others like us out there.” Lightning gestured outside.

“We’re stronger together.” She continued, “That’s why I brought you here—a safe place and figure out what’s going on.” Her voice was calm and defusing. 

Amara nodded, her voice steadier now. “We’re on your side, I promise. Those soldiers—they’re bad news. We need to stay one step ahead.” 

Terra’s eyes darted between them, searching for lies. Lightning’s stoic resolve felt genuine, and Amara’s nervous sincerity didn’t scream deception. But the sting of the dart lingered in her mind, a reminder of how quickly trust could turn to capture. She finally lowered her sword, easing the tension for everyone. 

“Fine,” Terra said, her tone cautious. “I’ll listen… but if you’re lying, you’ll regret it.” 

Lightning’s lips twitched, almost a smile. “Fair enough. Let’s talk.” 

Terra took a deep breath. After a minute, she finally spoke. “My name is Terra. Terra Branford.” 

“I’m Lightning. I pulled you out of Delhi after those soldiers in black darted you. This is Amara Lin, my… liaison.” She nodded toward Amara, who offered a tentative smile. 

Amara raised a hand, her voice softer, trying to ease the tension. “Hi, Terra. I’m Amara, Mr. Musk’s secretary—well, former secretary, now stuck helping Lightning. We’re not with those soldiers, I promise. I was piloting the chopper that got you out.” 

Terra nodded, her green eyes still cautious. “What’s next, then?” 

“I’m building my team, recruiting the others like us. You’re the first one.” 

“Excuse me? How about me?” Amara was offended. She had already sacrificed a lot to this hectic venture.

“Yes,” Lightning sighed, “you too.” 

Terra’s lips twitched, the faintest hint of a smile breaking through.

The kitchen was a stark contrast to the chaos of Delhi, its stainless-steel counters gleaming under fluorescent lights, though the faint metallic tang of the nearby warehouse lingered.

Terra sat at a small table, her red cape draped over the chair’s back, her curved sword propped nearby. Her green hair fell loose, and her stomach growled loudly, betraying the hunger she’d ignored since waking. The tranquilizer dart’s aftereffects had faded, but the gnawing emptiness in her gut was undeniable. She clutched her arms, trying to mask her discomfort, her green eyes still wary as she watched Lightning rummage through a cabinet.

Lightning, in casual clothes, pulled out a plastic container labeled “Emergency Rations.” Her stoic expression softened slightly as she noticed Terra’s subtle wince.

“You haven’t eaten since Delhi, have you?” she asked, her tone blunt but not unkind.

Terra hesitated, her pride warring with her hunger. “I… haven’t had time,” she admitted, her voice soft but edged with embarrassment. “Fighting monsters doesn’t leave much room for meals.”

Lightning raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching as if suppressing a smirk. “You’ll be no good to anyone if you pass out. Here.” She slid the container across the table, revealing a pre-packed meal of rice, vegetables, and some unidentifiable protein. “It’s not gourmet, but it’ll keep you going.”

Terra stared at the container, her hunger overriding her suspicion. She pried it open, the savory aroma hitting her like a spell, making her mouth water. “Thank you,” she murmured, her fingers fumbling with the plastic fork. She took a tentative bite, then froze, her eyes widening. “This… it’s cold. But it smells so good. How do you—?”

Lightning sighed, grabbing the container with a practiced motion. “You don’t eat it like that. This world’s got ways to fix that.” She crossed to a boxy device on the counter, its buttons and digital display alien to Terra. “Watch and learn.”

Terra leaned forward, her curiosity piqued despite her wariness. Lightning opened the small door, placed the container inside, and punched a few buttons with the confidence of someone who’d mastered this strange ritual—barely. The machine hummed to life, its interior glowing as it spun the food. Terra gasped, her magic sparking faintly at her fingertips. “Is that… some kind of fire spell? How does it heat without flames?”

Lightning snorted, a rare crack in her stoic facade. “No spells. It’s a microwave. Uses… waves, I guess. Don’t ask me to explain the science—Amara tried, and I zoned out. Point is, it heats food fast.”

Terra’s eyes were glued to the glowing box, her hunger momentarily forgotten. “This world has machines that cook without fire? What else can it do?” She leaned closer as if the microwave might reveal more secrets. “Does it… summon the food too?”

Lightning’s face twitched, caught between amusement and exasperation.

“No summoning. You still need food to put in it. Look, it’s simple.” She opened the box as it beeped, the steam rising from the now-hot meal. “Put food in, close door, press these buttons—two minutes, high power. Done. Try not to blow it up.”

Terra took the warm container, her fingers brushing the plastic in awe. “Two minutes? In my… wherever I’m from, cooking took hours over a fire.” She sniffed the meal, her stomach growling louder, and took a bite. Her eyes lit up, a small moan escaping. “This is amazing! It’s like magic, but… not.” She paused, chewing thoughtfully. “You’re sure it’s not enchanted?”

Lightning leaned against the counter, crossing her arms. “If it was enchanted, I’d have chucked it out the window. This world’s tech is weird, but it works. Stick with me, and I’ll teach you the basics—microwave, phone, whatever else you need to survive here.”

Terra swallowed, her cautious demeanor softening as the food hit her system. “You’re really not like those soldiers, are you?” she said, her voice quieter, almost sheepish. She glanced at the box again, still fascinated. “What’s next, then? A machine that fights monsters for us?”

Lightning’s lips curved into a rare, dry smile. “Don’t get your hopes up. That’s our job. But now that you mentioned it, it is possible in this world tech. Anyway, if you’re done staring at the magic box, eat up. We’ve got more warriors to find, and I’m not carrying you if you faint from hunger.”

Terra blushed, shoving another forkful into her mouth. “Fine,” she mumbled, crumbs falling. “But I’m figuring out how that thing works before we leave.”

Lightning shook her head, muttering, “Good luck with that,” as she turned to grab a water bottle, hiding a grin.

Chapter Text

Chapter 5: Market Mayhem

Lightning led her out for a tour, pulling the heavy, groaning steel door of the warehouse with ease and flicking on the lights. Terra scanned the large, empty space. The space was vast; its concrete floor was polished but unmarked, with high rafters crisscrossing under a vaulted ceiling. Skylights cast stark beams, illuminating dust motes and a faint paint smell.

“It’s… empty. Like a shell. Can it really be a sanctuary?” Her soft tone carried a hint of hope.

Lightning’s lips twitched, almost a smirk.

“It’s a start,” she said. “I have big plans for this. Come on.” She led Terra in, her boots echoing on the tiled floor.

“This is the heart,” Lightning said, gesturing broadly, striding forward, and spreading her arms. “Big enough for training, maybe a garage. Needs work, but it’s secure.”

“It’s like a coliseum… but lifeless. Where I’m from—wherever that is—places like this had banners, symbols.” Terra’s voice was wistful.

“Banners don’t stop monsters,” Lightning replied. “But if it helps you fight better, we’ll figure it out.”

Lightning and Terra exited to the perimeter, a dusty expanse under the blazing desert sun.

“No blind spots. Good sightlines. If those black-clad soldiers appear again, we’ll see them coming.” Her tone was sharp.

Terra followed, shielding her eyes. “This place… it’s so open. Exposed. Are we safe here?” Her voice wavered.

“It’s as safe as it gets,” Lightning said. “Our base blends in with the nearby factory perfectly. No one will suspect we’re holed up here.” Her words were firm and practical but carried a rare hint of reassurance.

They returned to the office building, climbing to the fourth floor. The hallways were narrow, lined with bare walls and fluorescent lights that flickered faintly. Lightning opened a door to a sparse room—Terra’s—with a simple bed, chair, and small window framing the desert.

“Your space,” Lightning said. “Mine’s next door. Downstairs, we’ve got the kitchen and a comms room Amara’s setting up. She sleeps there when it gets late, so I guess that’s her room as well. The other rooms… are for the others when we find them.”

Terra ran a hand over the bed, frowning.

“It’s… cold. Like a cell. We’re a team, right? It should feel like one.” Her empathetic side surfaced.

“It’s a roof. Better than dodging drones. What do you want, flowers?”

Terra’s eyes sparked with determination.

“Not flowers. Supplies—spices, blankets, something to make this ours. A name, too.” Her voice was soft but firm.

“Alright, you want to liven it up? There’s a supermarket by the factory. We’ll go.”

 “A supermarket? Like a grand market, with everything?” Terra’s face lit up, her caution giving way to excitement.

Lightning held up a hand, stopping her as she grabbed her cape.

“Not so fast. We’re not parading in capes and swords. We’re still being hunted out there, and our hair’s a dead giveaway.” She dug into a duffel, tossing Terra a gray hoodie. “Put this on. Hide the green. I’ll do the same.”

Terra fumbled with the hoodie, her braid catching.

“This is… ridiculous. Like hiding who I am.” Her tone was half-indignant, half-curious.

Lightning pulled on a navy hoodie, tucking her pink hair inside, her voice dry. “Welcome to my world, Terra. Blend in, or we’re on the news with hashtag RiftHottest.” She rolled her eyes at that as she adjusted her knife in her boot. “Let’s move before you set something on fire again.”

“Hashtag Rift… Hottest?”

“Right, we need to get you up to speed when we get back. We’ll talk to Amara after.”

“Fine, but I’m getting cookies. For morale.” She followed Lightning, the base feeling a fraction less empty.

“Right. For morale.” Lightning shook her head.

The supermarket was a squat building in a strip mall near the Nevada factory, its neon sign buzzing under the harsh desert sun. Terra fidgeted, her green hair stuffed messily inside her hoodie, a few strands escaping. Her hands clutched the hoodie’s drawstrings, her green eyes darting nervously at the bustling parking lot. Lightning stood beside her, her posture rigid but alert, scanning for threats. The walk from the base was short but tense, the weight of their anonymity pressing on them.

“This place… it’s so loud,” Terra murmured, her voice soft but wary. “Are you sure it’s safe?” She glanced at Lightning.

Lightning adjusted her hoodie, her tone clipped but steady.

“Safe enough if we keep our heads down. First time for me too, but Amara says this is where we get supplies.” Her admission slipped out, and she grimaced, unused to showing inexperience.

Terra blinked, surprised.

“You’ve never been here either?” Her nervousness eased slightly, a faint smile breaking through. “I thought you knew everything about this world.”

“Hardly. I’m learning as I go. Come on, let’s not stand out.” She stepped toward the entrance, but Terra hesitated, eyeing the automatic doors sliding open for shoppers.

“How do we… pay for things?” Terra asked, her voice tinged with confusion. “In my—wherever I’m from, we traded coins, goods.”

Lightning paused, digging into her pocket and pulling out a sleek card, the one Musk provided.

“This. Amara showed me—tap it, take the stuff. Don’t ask me how it works.” Her tone was dry, masking her own uncertainty.

Terra stared at the card, her brow furrowing.

“A piece of plastic… buys food? That’s more confusing than the microwave.”

“Yeah, it’s weird. Amara said it’s loaded with ‘serious money.’ Just follow my lead.” She mimicked Amara’s instructions, her confidence a front for her own inexperience, and strode forward. The automatic doors whooshed open, and Terra flinched, whispering,

“No magic, right?”

“None,” Lightning muttered, stepping inside. “Stay close.”

The supermarket’s interior hit them like a sensory storm—fluorescent lights glared off polished floors, aisles stretched endlessly with colorful packages, and pop music blared from overhead speakers. Shoppers wove through, carts clattering, while the air carried scents of bread, fruit, and cleaning products. Terra froze.

“This… it’s a market, but… enormous,” she breathed, her eyes wide.

Lightning scanned the aisles, unsure where to start. Terra stood, clutching her hoodie. For a moment the two otherworldly warriors out of their depth. Then Lightning’s sharp eyes caught a shopper grabbing a metal cart from a row near the entrance, piling in groceries with ease.

“That’s it. We need one of those.” She strode to the carts, yanking one free with a clang, its wheels squeaking. “Grab the handle. We’re doing this.”

Terra hesitated, then gripped the cart, her fingers brushing the cold metal.

“Like a wagon… but for food?” Her voice was half-question, half-wonder, as she followed Lightning, a spark of trust in her eyes. “What do we get?”

“Whatever makes our base less of a tomb. Food, blankets, whatever you think we need. Lead the way.” Terra’s suggestions had made Lightning consider even the simple aspects for her future team. She appreciated her for that.

Terra nodded, her nervousness giving way to determination, and pushed the cart forward, her hoodie slipping as she dove into the aisles, ready to navigate this strange new battlefield.

Lightning went to her side, helping to hide her green hair.

Terra and Lightning trudged under the blazing desert sun, each carrying heavy plastic bags bulging with groceries—spices, vegetables, blankets, and Terra’s sneaky cookies. Terra’s gray hoodie slipped slightly; the heat was getting to her. Lightning’s navy hoodie was pulled tight, her jaw set in lingering embarrassment.

The base’s chain-link fence glinted ahead, its small gate locked with padlocks, and the distant factory’s hum underscored their loud banter.

“I can’t believe I almost dropped those glass jars!” Terra exclaimed, her voice half-laughing, half-mortified. She shifted her bags, the weight making her wince. “They were so shiny—pickles, they called them? Everyone stared when I juggled them!”

“You weren’t exactly subtle, and gawking at those ‘shiny’ apples like they were magic orbs didn’t help either.”

“I couldn’t help it! This world’s markets are… overwhelming. So many colors, smells—those cereals with cartoon animals? Who eats that?” Her voice was soft, her curiosity shining despite her embarrassment over nearly toppling a soup display and lingering too long at the candy aisle, earning stares.

“You think that’s bad? You didn’t see me at the cashier.” Lightning’s voice lowered, almost a growl, her face flushing. “I’m taking that one to my grave.”

“What happened?”

She stayed silent, but Terra’s gaze was insistent. It took a moment for Lightning to process what happened. She grunted, clearly annoyed.

“I followed Amara’s directions! But when I tried to tap it, the machine beeped like crazy! I almost ripped that cashier’s smirk off his face! The others keeps watching me, and I just… ugh!”

She muttered, recalling Amara’s instructions to tap. But the machine took the card differently, so she had fumbled earlier, swiping instead, muttering curses, until it finally worked—a humiliation her warrior pride couldn’t shake.

“You? The great Lightning, defeated by a plastic box? I thought you said ‘follow my lead’!” She mimicked Lightning’s gruff tone from the supermarket entrance, her bags swinging as she gestured and giggled hard.

“Keep laughing, and I’ll make you carry all these.”

She laughed anyway.

A low growl of an engine cut through the desert silence. A sleek, black SUV pulled up abruptly at the gate, its tinted windows glinting ominously. Terra froze, her bags trembling in her grip, a faint spark of magic flickering at her fingertips.

“Lightning, who’s that?” she whispered.

Lightning dropped her bags with a thud, stepping in front of Terra, her body coiled like a spring.

“Stay back,” she hissed. “No one knows this place. Not the UN, not those black-clad creeps.” Her hand darted to her boot, fingers brushing the knife, her eyes locked on the SUV. “Get ready to fight.”

“Right!” Terra set her bags down quietly, her hands glowing faintly, ready to summon a barrier.

The air grew tense, the factory’s hum drowned by their pounding hearts. The vehicle stopped beside them, its window slid down, and Amara’s frazzled face appeared.

“Whoa, whoa, it’s just me!” she called, raising her hands, a tablet balanced precariously on her lap. “Didn’t mean to scare you! Thought you’d need a hand with those bags.”

“Amara, you nearly got a knife in your tire! Warn us next time!” Lightning picked up her bags, her voice gruff but relieved.

“Sorry, sorry! I saw you two trudging back. Figured I’d save you the hike.” She opened the gate, eyeing their bags. “Cookies, huh? Good call. Let me take some of those.” She reached for Terra’s bags, her warmth easing the tension.

“They’re for the team,” Terra insisted as she clutched her remaining bags. “This place needs… life. Even if I almost broke everything in that market.” Her smile was sheepish.

Amara laughed, leading them through the gate toward the warehouse.

“You two must’ve been a sight. Tell me about it inside—I need a break from Musk’s crazy. By the way, I got updates for the other guy.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 6: En Route Preparations

Amara’s room was a mess. Tangled cables snake across the floor, several screens are attached to a wall, empty coffee mugs litter her desk, but neatly stacked papers and the hum of a server suggests organized chaos.

Terra dared not to move, afraid her clumsiness from her supermarket venture lingers on. Lightning’s gaze switched to the screen as Amara showed the images.

There were shaky videos of the monsters being taken down by the local forces. Then they saw a picture of a blonde guy in a blue and yellow jacket, slashing at a tentacle monster with a curved blade.

“Where did you get these images?” Lightning asked.

“I was snooping around the UN task force investigation team. Don’t worry, they are completely unaware.” Amara replied with a grin.

Something was off, Lightning could tell. The images from the video and the picture of the warrior look entirely different, especially the backgrounds, but she had never been to these places before, so she could not tell. Terra noticed Lightning’s furrowed eyebrows.

With a beep, Amara showed the map.

“According to the UN, his last sighting is here. A train rail yard. Oh right, basically where the trains do their maintenance.” Amara explains to Terra.

“The plan?” Terra asks.

Lightning held her waist as she crunches up a plan, as she studies the images.

“We do it fast. If the UN already got intel on the guy, then it’s only a matter of time before they find him. We have to get to him first.” Lightning turns to Amara. “Is it possible for you to drop us off quickly then pick up us again?”

“Can do!”

“We’ll do that.” Lightning paced as her mind tactically considered her options. “After you drop us off, I need you to circle the area to warn us for any other threats.”

Amara nodded at that. Lighting turns to Terra.

“Terra would come with me, although with some distance. Can you do long range attacks?”

“I have a lot of ranged magic in my arsenal, so no need to worry.” Terra boasted.

Amara swipes her tablet, zooming in.

“He’s holed up here.” Amara shows a building under construction. “Our new algorithm predicts that a rift portal thing will open here. Obviously, our guy would probably show up for the party.”

Lightning crossed her arms, impressed but guarded.

“You’ve got eyes everywhere, Amara.”

“Yeah, how do you get all this?” Terra tilted her head.

“Let’s just say Elon’s got resources, and I know how to use them.” She tapped her tablet, projecting a 3D layout of the construction site.

“Here’s the plan. You two enter here—” she pointed to a service entrance on the ground floor, “—stick to the shadows, find the dude, convince him to join us. No heroics, no fights unless you have to.”

Lightning nodded, her mind racing through scenarios.

“Hmm…” Lightning points at the roof. “You can pick us up at the top floor, or maybe the other rooftop…” she points at another building. “If compromised.”

Amara nodded at that.

“I think it would be smart to wear like the locals first, until we needed to fight at least. No capes.” Lightning tugged at her hoodie, grimacing. “Like the supermarket.”

Terra’s face fell, her hands brushing the spot where her curved sword usually hung.

“But I like my outfit,” she murmured, almost indignant. “It’s… me. I think.”

Amara chuckled, softening.

“Don’t worry, Terra. I’m can get you both modern gear—practical, but with style.” She winked, her pendant glinting. “Something to suit your needs, and maybe a little flair. I’ve got a designer friend, but it’ll take a while.”

Terra’s eyes lit up, her caution giving way to excitement.

“Wow, you really can do anything! Can I pick colors?” She grinned, leaning forward.

Lightning rolled her eyes, but a faint smirk tugged at her lips.

“Practicality, Amara. No frills. I need to move, not pose.” Her tone was firm.

But Amara’s sly glance at Lightning style made her think about designs for her. 

“All right, so how do we get to… London?” Terra asked, spinning her chair slightly, her voice tinged with worry. “It’s so far. We can’t just… fly like birds.”

“Do you still doubt me?” She grinned. “I’ve got everything covered. My contact, Captain Marcus Kane, runs a private cargo plane. It’ll carry chopper across the Atlantic. We leave tomorrow morning from McCarran Airport.”

“As long as he’s reliable,” Lightning said. “We can’t afford delays.”

“He’s solid,” Amara replied, her tone firm. “I trust him.”

Amara paused, then smirked, shifting gears.

“Speaking of trust… Terra, those cookies you got?” She gestured to a plastic container from their haul, half-empty on her desk. “They’re great, but you said you wanted to bake your own, right?”

Terra blushed, caught off-guard. “Yeah! I mean, the store ones are fine, but… I want to make something for everyone eventually.”

“I trust you. Tell you what, our kitchen’s in a blank slate with plenty of space. I’ll get us an oven. We’ll bake together.”

Terra clapped, delighted. “Really? You’d do that?” She beamed, “Maybe chocolate ones! Or… what’s that spicy kind you mentioned?”

“Cinnamon,” Amara laughed, shutting down her tablet. “We’ll figure it out. For now, get some rest. Big day tomorrow.”

Lightning straightened, her cape swaying. “Let’s do this right. No mistakes.” Her tone was all business, but she glanced at Terra. “And don’t burn the base down with that oven.”

Terra stuck out her tongue, giggling, as Amara led them out, the comms room’s screens dimming behind them.

The Nevada dawn painted the desert in hues of gold and rust, but the Lightning’s base clearing buzzed with purpose.

Amara knelt beside her chopper, its sleek black-and-gray hull absorbing the early light, its rotors still as she checked a panel with her tablet. Lightning and Terra wore normal clothing, but their hairs stick out like a sore thumb.

Lightning stood nearby, wearing a jacket over her tank, and denim pants. She adjusted her gear to make her disguise work with it. She doubled checked her Crimson Blitz sheathed at her hip. Her mind is still on the mission, her gut feeling is still prevailing.

Terra, in wore a comfy wool long sleeve, a scarf, and a black skirt. This was her first mission with Lightning, so she couldn’t help but worry.

Lightning crossed her arms, watching as Amara ran diagnostics.

“This thing’s fast, but what’s the range?” she asked.

“This baby got a range of roughly 400 miles,” she said, wiping sweat from her brows. “Twin engines, stealth mods, seats us three plus gear. It’ll get us from the airfield to the target close, no problem.” She grinned, proud of her ride. “But yeah, the ocean’s too far for this baby. I showed you the map of the world earlier, remember?”

Lightning nodded. She shifted for more info.

“So, this Kane guy, who is he?” she asked.

Amara tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear.

“Marcus and I go way back. We met at flight school years ago. Like I said earlier, he’s ex-Air Force, runs private ops now. Total pro, doesn’t ask questions much.” She met Lightning’s gaze, her crystal pendant swaying.

“He’s flown for Musk’s projects before.”

Amara can fly really well, but if she is busy with the other things, it would be nice if we have another dedicated pilot…

Terra glanced between them. While Lightning’s mind is caught elsewhere, Terra caught Amara’s tiny hint of blush. A small smile starts tugging at Terra’s lips. She nudged Lightning’s arm.

“My gut says Amara’s not wrong about this guy.” She giggled.

Lightning grunted, unconvinced but relenting. “Your gut better be right,” she muttered.

The rotors wound down to a whisper as they touched down on the tarmac. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across, the air thick with jet fuel and the distant hum of commercial aircraft from the main terminal. Lightning peered through the cockpit window, her sharp eyes scanning the sparse ground crew in the distance—far enough to avoid unwanted attention.

"Perfect timing," Amara breathed, her crystal pendant catching the light as she powered down the systems. She gestured toward a massive cargo aircraft parked nearby, its sleek hull gleaming under the fading sunlight. "There's our ride."

Terra pressed her face to the small window.

“That thing is enormous," she whispered, awe creeping into her voice.

Lightning unbuckled her harness, her movements efficient despite the cramped space.

As they climbed out of the helicopter, Amara waved at the large aircraft. A figure emerged from the cargo plane's cockpit, waving back.

"That's him," Amara said, her voice pitched slightly higher than usual.

"Well, well. Looks like our Amara has more than professional interest in this pilot."

"Terra," Lightning warned quietly, though her lips twitched with suppressed amusement.

"What? It's adorable!" Terra giggled softly, her green eyes sparkling with mischief.

Amara shot them both a warning look. "He's just... a good pilot, okay? Very professional. Very... skilled."

"I bet he is," Terra murmured, earning a sharp elbow from Lightning.

He was younger than Lightning had expected, maybe early thirties, with sandy brown hair tousled by the wind and laugh lines around his blue eyes.

"Amara!" His voice carried a warm accent, rich and smooth. "Right on time, as always. Thought I heard that whisper-quiet bird of yours coming in." He gestured toward their stealth helicopter with obvious appreciation. "Still can't believe that tech upgrade Musk's got tucked away."

"Marcus," Amara’s professional composure cracking. "Thank you for doing this on such short notice. I know it's... unconventional."

"For you? Always happy to help." His gaze shifted to Lightning and Terra, and his eyebrows shot up.

He took in Lightning's pink hair and Terra's green hair, they have a distinctly otherworldly appearance.

"Bloody hell," he muttered, then caught himself. "Sorry, just... wasn't expecting..."

He gestured vaguely at their hair, the way they both scanned the airfield cautiously with the vigilance of trained warriors. A slow, knowing smirk spread across his face as he looked back at Amara.

"These wouldn't happen to be the 'special packages' you mentioned, would they?"

Amara nodded firmly.

"That's right. High-priority, need-to-know basis only."

"Right." Marcus's grin widened. He stepped forward, extending a hand to Lightning first. "Marcus Kane, at your service. I fly things for people who need things flown quietly and efficiently."

Lightning studied his hand for a moment before grasping it, her grip firm and brief.

"Lightning. I appreciate the discretion."

"Lightning," Marcus repeated, his eyebrows raising slightly. "Interesting name. Suits you, somehow." He turned to Terra, offering the same professional courtesy. "And you are?"

"Terra Branford," she replied, her voice soft but clear as she shook his hand. "Thank you for helping us."

"Terra. Beautiful name for a beautiful... lady." Marcus's charm was effortless, though his eyes held genuine curiosity rather than mere flirtation. "And might I say, you both have the most extraordinary hair I've ever seen. Natural?"

"Long story," Lightning said curtly.

Amara chuckled at that suddenly.

"The best stories usually are." Marcus clapped his hands together, business-like. "Right then, let's get you sorted. I've got an A400M here—she's not pretty, but she's reliable and big enough to swallow that helicopter of yours whole." He gestured toward the massive aircraft. "Plus, she's got legitimate cargo credentials, so we can fly anywhere in Europe without raising eyebrows."

Terra looked between the helicopter and the cargo plane. Her expression puzzled. "You're going to put the flying machine... inside the bigger flying machine?"

"Exactly right. Like Russian nesting dolls, but with more jet fuel." He looked at Amara. "Where did you find her? She's delightful."

"It's complicated," Amara said quickly, shooting Terra a look that said 'please don't mention other worlds or magic.' She explained vaguely. "They're both... very specialized security consultants. International work."

"Ah." Marcus nodded knowingly. "The kind that doesn't exist on paper. Got it." He tapped the side of his nose. "Your secret's safe with me, ladies. I've flown stranger cargo for Musk before—though admittedly, none of it was quite so... interesting."

Lightning's posture relaxed slightly at his easy acceptance.

"You work for Musk regularly?"

"Contract basis," Marcus explained, leading them toward the cargo plane. "He needs things moved quietly, I move them. No questions asked, no logs kept, everyone's happy. When Amara called about needing immediate transport for 'sensitive materials,' he didn't hesitate to authorize it." His voice dropped slightly. "Must be quite the project he's got you involved in."

"You could say that," Lightning muttered.

The massive rear ramp of the cargo plane began to lower with a mechanical whine, revealing a cavernous interior lit by harsh fluorescent strips. The smell of hydraulic fluid and metal filled the air.

"Ladies, if you could make yourselves comfortable in the crew cabin?" Marcus gestured toward a narrow door in the aircraft's side. "I'll need you out of sight while we load the helicopter. Standard security protocols."

Lightning and Terra followed him to the crew cabin, a cramped but functional space with jump seats and small windows. As Marcus began his pre-flight checks, Lightning found herself watching his methodical precision with interest.

“Though I have to say, you and Terra are definitely the most interesting 'cargo' I've transported." His expression grew more serious. "Amara mentioned you'd be picking up another package after this?"

Lightning nodded. "UK. Someone like us."

"Someone else with impossible hair?" Marcus's grin returned. "This just keeps getting better and better."

Through the small window, Terra watched the ground crew maneuvering the helicopter toward the cargo bay. "It's really going to fit?"

"Like a glove," Marcus assured her. "These birds were designed to carry everything from tanks to helicopters to..." He glanced at Lightning meaningfully. "Special packages that need to travel discreetly."

As the helicopter was secured inside the cargo bay with heavy straps and tie-downs, Marcus made a final notation on his flight checklist.

"Right then," he said, moving to close the crew cabin door. "Amara's asked me to keep the engines hot after we retrieve your next package. Quick turnaround, I'm guessing?"

"That's the plan," Lightning confirmed. "The faster we move, the better."

"Understood." Marcus sealed them into the crew cabin as the massive cargo ramp began to close with a deep, mechanical rumble. "Next stop, wherever this mysterious third package might be hiding."

Chapter Text

Chapter 7: Sudden Encounters

Lightning sat on a jump seat at the cargo bay. She watches on Amara’s helicopter, she had named it Chopper, by her amusement from before. Lightning shook her head at that.

She then noticed the harnesses holding the helicopter and was skeptical, worried it will give when the planes does its banking. She sighed, it was no use worrying.

She closes her jacket, not just for comfort or the cold, but her gut feeling that has been disturbing her since the briefing. She adjusted her black cap as she switches her attention to Terra, fumbling with her new acquired smartphone. She wore a beanie to hide her greens.

“Ugh, why is this so hard?” Terra muttered, fingers swiping on the screen.

Lightning smirked.

“Having trouble, Tara Brandt?” Lightning drawled. “Environmental Researcher for SpaceX, right? Bet you forgot that one already.”

Terra’s cheeks flushed, her scarf shifting as she hunched over the phone.

“I did forget,” she admitted, berating herself with a groan. “Tara Brandt… ugh, it doesn’t even sound like me!”

She tapped the screen, pulling up a fake ID photo—her green hair digitally altered to brown, her face slightly tweaked.

“This picture’s so weird. I don’t look like that.”

Lightning leaned back, her cap casting a shadow over her eyes.

“You’re not the only one with a cover,” she said, her voice softening slightly. “I’m Claire. Database is faked for me too.” She tapped her wrist communicator, a small black band matching Terra’s.

“These are encrypted. If we get separated, you call me. Got it?”

Terra’s eyes lit up, her frustration melting into delight.

“That’s so cool! I can just… talk to you, anywhere?”

Lightning’s smirk faded to a mock glare, though her eyes glinted with humor.

“Don’t get any ideas, Terra. No calling me to chat about nonsense.”

Terra laughed, her scarf swaying as she leaned forward.

“Okay, okay, Claire,” she teased, mimicking Lightning’s tone.

“But if I’m Tara Brandt, I’m calling you for important research stuff. Like… cinnamon cookie recipes!” She giggled.

Lightning could only roll her eyes.

The intercom crackled, Marcus’ voice cutting through.

“We’re three hours out, we are making a quick refuel in Iceland.”

Lightning stirred on the cot, its thin mattress creaking under her weight, bolted to the floor. Her eyes snapped open, adjusting to the dim fluorescent glow. Across the cramped crew cabin, Terra lay curled on her own cot.

Lightning sat up as Amara appeared at the cabin door.

“We’re landing soon,” she said, voice low but urgent. “Been hours. Refuel went smooth, and Marcus says we’re hitting the airfield in twenty.”

Lightning nodded, her mind sharpening, running through the plan. 

“Terra, up.” Lightning called as she stood.

Terra groaned, blinking awake.

“Already?” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes. “I was dreaming… something about...”

Lightning waited for her to continue, but Terra was confused all of the sudden.

“I-I don’t remember.” Terra clutched her temple when she said that.

“You okay?”

“Yes.” Terra shook her head. “Just a sudden headache.”

“It’s your first time flying.” Amara grinned. “Now, get to your seats and fasten up both of you. Marcus doesn’t mess around with landings.”

Amara had a serious game face now on, checking their communicators.

“Alright. I’ll be circling the yard, eyes on threats.” Her pendant swayed as she straightened. “Marcus’ll keep the plane hot for extraction.”

The plane jolted, engines whining as it descended. Terra gripped her seat, green eyes wide.

Lightning and Terra, in their disguises, crouched low and peeked around a rusted corner of the train rail yard. The air buzzed with tension, the distant hum of Amara’s chopper cutting through the dusk.

“Lightning, Amara. I’m not seeing anything from up here. You’re good to approach,” Amara’s voice crackled through their wrist communicators.

“Thanks, Amara. Moving out,” Lightning replied, her voice steady.

She led the way, boots crunching on gravel, with Terra trailing close behind. They wove through parked train cars.

“Lightning! Our algorithms were correct. A rift portal is indeed opening up,” Amara announced

“I see it. We’ll go in hard and lure him out.” Lightning responded, her eyes locking on a faint glow ahead.

A vibrating roar echoed for miles as a tear in reality ripped open, a blinding flash forcing them to squint. Terra, at Lightning’s side, her voice tight with worry.

“But we can’t just watch innocent people get injured!” she said.

Lightning scanned the desolate yard, her breath steadying.

“The area seems abandoned, but you’re right. If whatever comes out of that nightmare causes too much destruction, I’ll handle it.” she assured confidently.

Expecting a hulking beast to fight on the ground, Lightning froze as multiple serpent-like creatures burst from the portal, soaring into the skies with eerie grace.

“Great…” she muttered.

“What do we do?” Terra asked.

Lightning’s mind raced, her plan to fight grounded monsters now useless. “We take them out now. Our guy will eventually get curious and probably approach us. We can’t risk waiting for anyone to get hurt.”

“Right!” Terra was determined.

A serpent dove toward Amara’s chopper, its tail whipping dangerously close. Lightning and Terra froze, panic flaring. Without a word, they leapt into action.

“Amara, get out of there!” Lightning shouted into her comms.

Amara didn’t reply, her focus on evading the serpent’s pursuit. Terra raised her hand, magic sparking, but stepped closer when her spell fizzled at the distance.

“Terra!” Lightning warned, her voice sharp.

Terra spun, barely raising a magical shield as another serpent’s tail lashed at her. Lightning vaulted high, her cap torn off by the wind, slashing with her Crimson Blitz. The serpent’s nimble body dodged every strike.

She landed on wall of a building, springing away as the serpent struck, narrowly missing her.

“Terra! Focus on Amara!” she shouted, praying her voice carried.

Lightning hit a signal tower, her jacket and denim pants tugging at her movements. Before she could adjust, the serpent slammed the tower, sending it crashing in a storm of metal beams and dust.

As the smoke cleared, Lightning vanished. An explosion roared nearby—Terra’s fire spell had struck the serpent chasing Amara, forcing it to veer off.

A shadow flickered above. Lightning plummeted from the dust, her sword carving a devastating arc, obliterating rail tracks into a crater. She landed hard, panting.

“Tsk…” Her attack missed, the serpent too slippery.

Undeterred, Lightning lunged, unleashing a flurry of nonstop slashes, using train cars and beams as platforms to strike from every angle. The serpent’s counterattacks weakened, its focus shifting to dodging.

Testing her speed, Lightning feinted, then slashed so fast she severed its tail. The monster shrieked, but she pressed on, her probing strikes relentless. The serpent whipped its remaining tail, but Lightning’s erratic movements made it miss, injuring itself.

She landed on a rooftop, leaping high for a predictable strike, deliberately open in the air. The serpent lunged, just as she planned. Smirking, she met its attack head-on, her full power erupting in a thundering clap. The serpent fell, sliced apart a second later.

No time for celebration, Lightning’s eyes darted skyward. Amara’s chopper circled safely in the distance. She exhaled, relief washing over her.

Another serpent crashed nearby, felled by Terra’s barrage of ranged magic. Terra grinned, panting.

“They couldn’t dodge forever,” she said.

“Lightning, we’ve got incoming,” Amara’s voice cut through the comms.

“Is it him?” Lightning asked, scanning the yard.

“No, but it looks like up-armored black cars inbound hot. Shit, I’m seeing another helicopter,” Amara replied.

A chopper roared over the buildings, missile pods glinting on its sides. Masked men emerged, weapons trained on Lightning and Terra.

“Don’t move!”

“Lower your weapons!”

Lightning and Terra tensed, expecting the unknown men from Delhi, but these soldiers’ gear was different.

“Amara, who are these guys?” Lightning asked.

“I don’t know, but I think they’re British special forces,” Amara answered.

Lightning’s mind raced. She didn’t want to harm locals defending their city. She exchanged a glance with Terra, a silent agreement to retreat.

“Amara, we’re exfiltrating. Is the east side clear?” Lightning asked, watching the soldiers inch closer.

“I don’t think so. I’m seeing reinforcements from the east. Wait… Oh shit!”

“What?”

A streak of smoke from the east struck the forces’ helicopter, erupting in a massive explosion. Rotors tore through the air, forcing everyone to dive for cover.

Lightning, confused, seized the moment, grabbing Terra’s arm as she froze in shock. She yanked Terra into a nearby warehouse, gunfire echoing behind them.

“Amara, update!” Lightning called, her voice steady despite the chaos.

“Defending!” Amara gasped, her chopper deploying countermeasures as a missile narrowly missed.

“Just keep your distance, Amara. We’ll manage.”

“It’s them.” Terra said, her voice low, eyes wide with recognition. “The ones who darted me.”

Terra looked down, she remembered saving them at Delhi from the scorpion monster, but then betrayed to kidnap her. Another explosion rocked the warehouse, distracting Terra,  gunfire unrelenting outside. The situation was spiraling.

“Let them fight. We’re getting out of here,” Lightning said, breaking into a sprint.

They darted through the warehouse, dodging crates, away from the chaos. Lightning’s thoughts churned—Amara’s close calls shook her.

She barely knew her, but their planning sessions and base hangouts had forged a bond. Two near-death moments in one fight were too much.

Lightning’s mind was elsewhere when she flung open a rusted door and she froze. Terra stumbled, nearly crashing into her.

“Lightning?” Terra gasped, she caught her balance.

A sword had came out from nowhere and it gleamed at Lightning’s throat. A man in his silver armor was out of place, and yet his expression calm and searching for answers.

“Fate has woven an unexpected thread,” he said as he steadies his blade. “Who are you, warriors?”

Lightning sprang back, boots skidding on the concrete, creating distance. Her hand on her saber. Terra moved to defend Lightning, her curved sword flashing as she raised it.

“Who are you?” she demanded, her voice sharp with defiance.

“I am Cecil Harvey, a knight of a distant realm,” his voice steady. “And you, warriors of sword and sorcery, who tread this shadowed path? Speak, for your presence stirs echoes of a world I once knew.”

Lightning’s eyes narrowed, his words clicking into place. Sword, magic, another world—he was like them. Her gut, screamed opportunity.

“I’m Lightning,” she said, stepping forward cautiously. “This is Terra. We’re not your enemies. Come with us.”

Cecil’s gaze hardened, his sword kept steady, he remained unmoved.

“Nay, I shall not be swayed so easily,” he said. “This world is rife with deception. Dr. Elena, with her promises of truth, sought to bind me to her cause. I’ll not fall prey to such guile again.”

Lightning exchanged a glance with Terra, both lost. “Dr. Elena?” Lightning asked. “We don’t know her.”

“We’re not with anyone trying to trick you,” Terra nodded, lowering her sword slightly. “We’re… like you, I think. From somewhere else.”

Cecil’s brow furrowed, his blade dipping further as he took in their genuine confusion.

“Your faces betray no falsehood,” he murmured, almost to himself. “Yet trust is a fragile thread in this fractured world.”

Before Lightning could press, a deafening explosion rocked inside. The blast wave was so strong it rattled crates and shattering a nearby window. A rusted door burst open, the screech of metal piercing their ears. Three masked soldiers stormed in, raising their rifles at them.

Lightning and Terra tensed, but Cecil moved like a storm. His sword arced with precision, disarming one soldier with a swift strike, then knocking another unconscious with the flat of his blade. The third crumpled under a deft kick, all in seconds.

He turned to Lightning and Terra, his armor clanking, and inclined his head at them.

“May light guide your path,” he said solemnly. And with that, he sprinted toward a side exit, his silver figure vanishing.

“Wait!” Lightning snapped, her boots pounding as she chased him.

He was another otherworldly warrior, like her and Terra. She couldn’t let him slip away. Terra followed, dodging crates with her scarf trailing behind her.

Lightning caught up to Cecil in a narrow alley outside. He’d just felled two more of the same soldiers, their stun batons still sparking on the ground.

“Hold up!” Lightning called, raising her hands. “We’re like you, Cecil. From other worlds.”

“Other worlds?” his voice was a blend of wonder and caution. “Strangers bound by shared origins?”

“Lightning found me like this,” Terra caught up panting, green eyes locking on him. “On the run, lost, with no memories. Those soldiers—” she pointed at the bodies, her voice catching, “—they tried to take me in Delhi after I saved people from a monster. They betrayed me. We’re fighting the same fight.”

Cecil lowered his sword fully, his armored shoulders easing.

“Your words ring with truth,” His gaze remain sharp. “Speak, then—what purpose drives you?”

Lightning’s jaw tightened. She heard the distant gunfire and explosions growing louder, the chaos closing in.

“We’re with the Vanguard Initiative,” Lightning’s voice was urgent. “We’re gathering warriors like us to stop these rifts—and the people using them. You’re one of us, Cecil. Come with us. You’re safe with us.”

“Please, Cecil. We’re not your enemies. But we need to move—now.” Terra nodded along as she clutched her sword.

Cecil stood silent, his hand tightening on his sword’s hilt. But when the ground shook with another blast, he realized he had nowhere to go, he too needed help. 

“The stars align in strange patterns,” he said at last. “I will join you, if only to seek the truth of this shadowed world. Lead on.”

“Good. Follow us—fast. We’re leaving.” Lightning exhaled, relief sharp but fleeting.

She turned, her boots was splashing through puddles as they ran toward the extraction point.

Lightning sprinted through the dim corridors, her jacket flapping as she ran. Terra and Cecil follow closely behind. Her wrist communicator buzzed, and she pressed it quickly to her ear. 

“Amara, it’s Light. Land now. Rooftop, west side. We’ve got company.”

“Copy that!” Amara’s voice crackled, she was very tense but managed to stay focused. “Chopper’s coming in hot. Be ready.”

They burst through a stairwell door, climbing two steps at a time. Noisy rotors roared above and whipping the wind and dusts into a blinding frenzy. Cecil had to shield his eyes. Amara leaned out the door, her shout was barely audible over the rotor blades.

“Get on, now!”

“Move!” Lightning barked as the chopper landing skids hovered inches above the roof.

Terra scrambled forward, reached the chopper, and gripped on the door. She then turned to Cecil, who was still standing frozen.

“Come, Sir Cecil!” Terra urged.

Cecil’s gaze met hers. He finally sheathed his sword, stepping toward the chopper with measured grace.

Lightning grabbed Terra’s arm and helped her into the chopper first, then she turned to Cecil.

“Up!” she steadied him as he climbed aboard, no doubt it was his first time riding one.

“Go, Amara!” Lightning vaulted in, slamming the door shut.

Amara yanked the controls, the chopper lurching skyward, banking hard. The sudden ascent pressed them against their seats. Cecil sat rigid, his armored hands gripping the seat’s edge. Terra’s eyes were wide. She wonders if all future missions would be chaotic like this.

Lightning leaned toward the window, her cap had been long gone. The sudden turn of events had been too much for her. All the planning they’ve made was thrown out of the window. She hated it, having no control over things.

They did not find their intended target, Amara almost died, ambushed by two factions, Amara almost died again, and they barely escaped. Lightning shook her head and leaned back to finally relax.

It’s a mess.

But she figured that their venture was not wasted, they had managed to grab another warrior like them. Although his choice of words took Lightning a second to understood.

Chapter Text

Chapter 8: Forged in Firelight

The ramp hissed as it lowered, the tarmac shimmering under the harsh desert sun.

Lightning stepped off first, her pink hair whipped in the dry wind. Terra followed and Cecil descended last, scanning the surroundings cautiously.

Lightning waited for a moment to speak privately with Amara, checking the flight controls of her chopper.

“Amara,” Lightning called, her voice sharp but heavy with concern. “We need to talk.”

 “What’s this about, Light?” Amara paused asking.

Lightning stopped a few feet away and crossed her arms.

“You need to pull back on these missions. That was too close. You’re not untouchable, Amara.”

“I can handle myself, Lightning,” Amara made a small laugh, scratching her hair. “I’ve flown worse than that and come out fine. I’m not some rookie you need to coddle.”

“This isn’t about coddling,” Lightning’s eyes flashed. “You’re critical to this team—our eyes in the sky, our way out. You almost died out there, Amara. Twice. You think I can just stand by and watch you throw yourself into danger like it’s nothing?”

Amara was silent for a while, her expression hardened.

“You think I’m just here for kicks?” she shot back. “I’m not some hired gun, Light. I’ve seen this team slowly grow—you, Terra, and now that dude.” She gestured to Cecil and continued on, her brows furrowed.

“I’m not doing this for a paycheck—I’m in it to make a difference, same as you. So don’t lecture me about danger when I know exactly what’s at stake.”

“I’m not questioning your commitment,” Lightning’s fists clenched. “But you’re no good to us dead. You’re taking risks that don’t just affect you—they affect all of us. We need you alive, Amara.”

Amara shook her head, her pendant swaying as she turned back to the chopper, gripping the doorframe.

“I get it, Light. I do. But I’m not sitting on the sidelines. I signed up for this, risks and all. If you can’t trust me to handle it, then why am I even here?”

She climbed into the cockpit and began flipping switches, the rotors humming to life.

“I’ll be ready for the next mission. Count on it.”

Terra and Cecil watched from a distance, exchanged uneasy glances.

“This discord casts a shadow on my heart,” Cecil said. “If this fellowship lacks unity, have I erred in joining your cause? The path of light demands harmony, yet I see only strife in this moment.” He shook his head at that.

“Cecil, you made the right choice,” Terra turned to him. “Lightning’s tough, and Amara’s stubborn, but they’re both fighting for the same thing—us.”

“Your words carry the light of truth, Lady Terra,” Cecil took a breath, his gaze softening. “In this strange world, I have known only deception. But I shall hold to faith, for now.”

Terra smiled, her scarf fluttering in the desert breeze. Lightning approached them with big strides. Her commanding expression laid bare. She laid her hand on her hip, ordering them.

“Let’s move. We’ve got a new warrior to brief and to discuss on what happened.” Lightning turned to the chopper, as the rotors pick up speed.

The crew had arrived back home, the chopper engines still dying down. Amara strode ahead, paused, and turned to the group.

“I’ll set up the guy’s room,” she said without another word, and disappeared.

Terra’s eyes followed Amara, her brow’s furrowing. She shifted her weight as she glanced at Lightning, who stood rigid. Cecil broke the silence.

“Where have we come, warriors? This fortress stands stark against the sands, yet its purpose eludes me.”

“This is our base of operations,” Lightning replied. “You’re safe here, Cecil. Come on, I’ll show you around.”

Terra head towards where Amara had disappeared, her expression torn.

“I’m going to help Amara,” she said quickly and jogged off, leaving Lightning and Cecil alone.

Lightning exhaled, turning to Cecil.

“Let’s move.”

She led him toward the secure perimeter. The desert stretched endlessly beyond.

“This compound’s locked down. No one gets in without clearance. And if you need anything—gear, food, and answers—tell me or Amara. We’ll handle it.”

Cecil nodded and remained silent most of the time taking every detail, his expression guarded but attentive. They then crossed to a massive warehouse.

“Possible storage and training area” she explained, her voice clipped. “I’m confident we would be using this space later on.”

They entered the converted office building. A simple kitchen sat to one side, its counters bare except for a coffee maker and a stack of instant noodle packets.

“Kitchen’s basic,” Lightning said, gesturing. “We make do. Amara’s room is down that hall, first floor. She likes being close to the action.”

“And where do you reside?”

“Top floor, fourth,” Lightning replied, leading him to a stairwell. “Terra and I have our own rooms up there. Keeps us central.”

Cecil nodded at that, he respected their privacy, but as they climb the stairs, private voices drifted from a hallway—Terra’s gentle tone and Amara’s sharper cadence.

“—just saying, you don’t have to push so hard.” Terra’s voice.

 “I get it, Terra.”

They stepped into the hallway, where Amara stood outside an open door, a pile of folded clothes on a nearby table. She straightened as she saw them, her expression softening slightly.

“Cecil, right?” she said, extending a hand, “Amara. Pilot, tech support, general problem-solver. Welcome to the chaos.”

Cecil inclined his head, his handshake firm.

“I am Cecil Harvey. Your aid in battle was valiant, Lady Amara. I am honored to join your fellowship, though its trials are many.”

“Yeah, trials are our specialty. I’ve got some clothes here—basic stuff, shirts, pants. Not sure about your size with all that armor, but we’ll figure it out.”

Amara smirked and gestured to a small room, its bed neatly made, a desk and chair in the corner.

“This is yours. Make it home.”

“My thanks are yours.” Cecil bowed. His voice was sincere but reserved. “This haven is a gift in a world of shadows.”

“You’ve got to try the hot shower, Cecil! It’s amazing—hot water, like magic, but better!” Terra grinned excitedly, her green eyes sparkling.

Cecil’s brow arched, confusion crossing his noble features.

“A… shower?” his voice tinged with curiosity. “Water that flows warm by command? This world holds wonders unknown to me.”

Amara laughed and stepped into the room, pointing to a small bathroom.

“Here.”

She twisted a knob on the shower control. Steam rose as water hissed. “Turn this for hot, this for cold. You’ll get the hang of it.”

“By the light…” Cecil murmured.

Amara and Terra could not hold their giggles. Lightning felt a quiet relief. Cecil’s guard was lowering, if only slightly.

“Take your time to rest, shower, change, and then meet us downstairs for dinner.”

Amara perked up suddenly, remembering something.

“I’ve got a meeting with the big boss in my room. Catch you all at dinner.” She turned, heading down the hall.

Terra watched her go, then smiled at Cecil.

“You’ll like it here,” Terra’s warmth in her voice unwavering. “It’s not perfect, but it’s ours.”

“Your kindness lights a path through doubt, Lady Terra. I shall join you anon.”

 “Let’s go, Terra. Let him settle.” Lightning gestured to the stairs.

The Nevada sun had dipped below the horizon, Terra hummed softly under her breath, a fragmented melody from a world she couldn't quite recall, dragging a folding table to the center of the room. Lightning worked beside her, unfolding chairs with efficient snaps.

A distant yelp echoed from upstairs, followed by the unmistakable splash of water and a muttered curse in archaic tones.

"By the Twelve Crystals, what sorcery is this deluge?!"

"Sounds like our knight's first encounter with indoor plumbing. Bet he's expecting a dragon in the drain." Lightning paused, her lips twitching into a smirk.

Terra's laughter spilled out at that, her hand on her mouth. An insistent vibration cutting through the moment as Lightning's phone buzzed on the counter.

"Takeout's here. Five minutes out." She tugged her navy hoodie up, stuffing her pink hair beneath the hood with practiced efficiency. Terra followed her, wearing her beanie.

They met the courier at the compound's chain-link fence, the man's beat-up sedan idling under the floodlights like a reluctant beast. He peered out the window, squinting at the nondescript warehouse and office block. Confusion etched his face as he handed over the steaming bags, the savory aroma of curry and naan wafting into the cooling night air.

"Uh, this the right spot? Looks like an old factory or somethin'. Didn't peg it for... whatever this is."

Lightning snatched the bags with one hand, her other already fishing out the sleek black card.

"Right spot. Keep the change." She laid the card flat on his portable reader, the device beeping a cheerful approval—no fumbling, no red-faced swipes this time.

The transaction cleared smoothly, green light flashing. Terra bit her lip to hide a grin, her eyes dancing with mischief as she leaned against the gate. Lightning caught it, rolling her eyes with exaggerated exasperation.

"Don't say it."

"Say what? That you've finally tamed the 'magic plastic box'?"

Lightning huffed, but there was no real heat in it—just a faint curve to her lips as she scooped up the bags.

"Keep grinning like that, and you're on dish duty for a week."

By the time they'd unpacked the feast—steaming trays of butter chicken, fluffy rice, and golden samosas—the kitchen table groaned under the spread.

Lightning flicked on the small TV mounted in the corner, the news droning to life as they arranged plates.

The screen filled with shaky footage from the rail yard: twisted metal beams, scorched earth, and the faint, ethereal glow of a closing rift.

A stern-faced anchor recapped the "unprecedented multi-faction incident," her voice clipped and professional.

"Authorities confirm involvement from local emergency responders, UN observation teams, and unidentified assailants in tactical gear. Rift-spawned entities escalated the chaos, but the swift action from British forces contained the threat. Casualties remain low, though the public is urged to report any anomalous activity. Stay vigilant, London."

Lightning leaned against the counter, arms crossed, her relief palpable. There were no grainy clips of them. But a shadow crossed her face, her mind snagging on the unspoken.

If there was footage, then why bury it?

But she sook her head, Amara had assured them before, with her connections and abilities, exposure would be minimal and pretty much nonexistent.

Cecil Harvey emerged, looking displaced in his new acquired clothing. The button-up shirt hung loose on his broad frame, but it was backwards—collar at the back, tags flapping like a surrendered flag.

His silver hair, still damp from the shower, and he carried himself with the rigid poise of a man who'd just wrestled a wyvern bare-handed. Terra's laughter erupted first, bright and infectious, her hand clapping over her mouth too late.

"Cecil! Your shirt—it's, um, facing the wrong way. Here, let me..." She stepped forward, gently tugging at the fabric to right it.

"Ah... these garments of your realm are a trial unto themselves.”

He adjusted the shirt with deliberate care. He paused, nostrils flaring as the takeout's spices hit him.

"What enchantment is this?”

Lightning gestured to the table, plates already steaming.

"No enchantments. Sit. Eat before it gets cold. You've earned it after all that happened."

They settled around the table, the clatter of forks and the rich, unfamiliar flavors filling the room. Cecil speared a piece of chicken with wide-eyed reverence, savoring the creamy spice like a sacred relic.

"By the Light... 'tis ambrosia veiled in mortal form. Such depths of flavor—sweet heat, earth and fire entwined."

He glanced up, catching Terra and Lightning's mirrored surprise as they tried their own bites. For them, meals had been survival rations: chalky MREs, instant noodles slurped in tense silence back at base.

"Not bad, proper food finally I guess." Lightning admitted.

Terra nodded enthusiastically, a smear of sauce on her chin.

Amara slipped in quietly then, her usual easy energy replaced by a stiffness that made the chair creak as she sat. She poked at a samosa without enthusiasm.

"Amara? You look like you've seen a rift open in your room. Everything okay?" Terra tilted her head, concern etching her features.

Amara exhaled, setting her fork down with a soft clack.

"It's the big man. Mr. Musk himself. He's coming for a visit tomorrow—wants a full update on the team's progress."

"Of course he is. Right when things are finally settling." Lightning's fork paused mid-air.

Terra and Cecil exchanged puzzled glances.

"The... big man?" Terra ventured, "You haven't mentioned him before, Lightning."

"Elon Musk. The one bankrolling this whole operation—the base, the chopper, the card I own. He keeps us off the grid, for now." Lightning met their eyes.

"I trust you, Lightning—you've pulled us through hell already. But... people behind the scenes? Pulling strings? It feels like those soldiers in black, or those UN trackers. I don't like not seeing the whole board." Terra wiped her hands.

"Aye, words well-spoken, Lady Terra.” Cecil leaned forward, “If shadows lurk in our benefactor's intent, how am I to pledge my blade without knowing the hand that wields the anvil?"

They waited for Lightning’s response. Her jaw clenched. For a heartbeat, she imagined it unraveling: Cecil vanishing into the night like a specter, Terra's fragile trust shattering like glass.

Not them. Not after everything.

But before she could respond, Amara jumped in.

"You can trust him. I was his secretary for years—quirky as a court jester with a quantum flux capacitor, sure. But redeemable? Absolutely. He's the reason we're not dodging UN drones right now. He sees the rifts as a puzzle to solve, not a weapon to hoard. Give him a chance; you'll see."

Terra studied Amara for a long moment, then nodded slowly.

"Alright. For you—and Lightning—we'll meet him halfway."

"Then let the stars judge his worth. I shall reserve my judgment until the morrow." Cecil went back to his meal.

Amara's relief was palpable, her posture loosening as she dug into her food.

"He'll be here mid-morning, actually. Already in the area, poking around his factory next door.”

The conversation lulled into comfortable bites, but Terra perked up suddenly, her curiosity reigniting like a fresh spell.

"Oh! Amara, what about Cecil's alias? We can't have him wandering around as 'Knight from Another Realm.' What's the cover?"

Cecil blinked, fork halfway to his mouth.

"Alias? I fear I must beg pardon—what manner of guise is this?"

Amara grinned, pulling up her tablet with a flourish.

"Cover identity, big guy. You're Cecil Hart now—charity organizer for an NGO we 'fund' through the boss's network. Helps explain the accent, the dramatic entrances. Fits your whole 'protector of the realm' vibe without raising flags."

Cecil's brow furrowed, a shadow crossing his face.

"Cecil Hart... 'tis close to my own name, yet this 'big man' as patron? It stirs unwelcome echoes." He set his fork down, his voice dropping to a measured gravity.

The table fell quiet, the spice in the air suddenly sharper. Lightning leaned forward, her eyes locking on his.

"What happened, Cecil? You don't have to—"

"Nay," Cecil interrupted gently, his gaze distant, "You have earned my candor. I feel... a kinship here. Trust, as you say, must be forged."

"We're listening. No judgments. We've all got shadows chasing us." Terra reached out, her hand hovering near his arm in silent encouragement.

Cecil nodded, drawing a steadying breath.

"It began when I first crossed into this realm—disoriented, much as you found me. A woman approached, Dr. Elena, of the Obsidian Group. She spoke of alliances, of harnessing the rifts for 'the greater good.' A private research institute, she claimed, seeking warriors like us to stem the chaos."

His voice hardened, edged with old bitterness.

"I believed her. Pledged my aid. But their 'research' was a cage—experiments on our powers, bindings to control the anomalies. When I saw their true intent—to weaponize us, to twist the rifts into tools of dominion—I broke free. Yet the escape cost dearly. Shadows hounding my steps ever since.”

Amara's eyes widened.

"The Obsidian Group? I've heard rumors—private contractors sniffing around rift sites. But aggressive tactics? Tricking people like you? That's... that's not the game I thought they were playing."

Lightning shot her a glance,

"Who are they, Amara? Spill."

Amara swallowed, her fingers tightening on the table's edge.

"Off-the-books research outfit. Supposedly studying anomalies for 'civilian safety,' but yeah... aggressive is putting it mildly. If they're poaching warriors, that's a whole new level of bad."

Cecil met their eyes, gratitude softening the lines of his face.

"Your words honor me. And this haven... it is the first true respite I've known. Not like them—not the Obsidian deceivers, nor the faceless hunters in black. You fight not for chains, but for light."

"We're not like them, Cecil. None of the factions out there—UN, Obsidian, whoever. We're building something real here." Terra's voice was soft, fierce with conviction.

Lightning thought that they'd botched the primary target, danced with death twice over, but this? Rescuing a soul adrift in the storm? It was worth every slash, every evasion.

Mission success I suppose…

Chapter Text

Chapter 9: Debriefs and Treats      

There was dust swirled lazily in the early light, kicked up by a lone black heavy-duty truck carrying a large wooden box. There were no escorts, just the Musk and Amara inside. Even Musk’s most trusted didn’t know his exact whereabouts for this favorite project of his.

At the building’s porch, Terra and Cecil watched the vehicle pass the already opened gate.

Terra shifted her weight, she felt curious and unease. She looked at Cecil who seemed to be handling the situation differently. He stood cautiously and his eyes fixated on the vehicle as it came to a stop in front of them. Lightning just leaned against a post, eager to start discussions on how her last mission went wrong.

The door hissed open, and Musk finally stepped out. He took off his sunglasses when he saw the trio. He scanned them slowly, his smile widening to something almost boyish. He felt proud seeing his Vanguard gamble actually paying off.

“Well, damn, look at this. My interdimensional A-team, in the flesh! Pink hair, knight vibes, and... is that a scarf in 90-degree heat? Bold choices, love it.”

Terra was caught off-guard, her cheeks flushing as she tucked the scarf tighter.

“It’s... comfortable,” she mumbled and offered a hesitant smile. “I’m Terra Branford. It’s, um, nice to meet you... Mr. Elon Musk?”

Cecil stepped forward as well, his bow precise but guarded.

“Cecil Harvey. Your aid to this fellowship is noted, yet I would know your heart’s intent, sir.”

Cecil’s words measured like a knight sizing up a lord. Musk raised an eyebrow, grin unfazed.

“Heart’s intent? Big fan of saving the planet, maybe the universe—call it a hobby. Also, you’ve got that weird gravitas nailed. Ever thought about TED Talks?”

He extended a hand for a fist-bump, which Cecil stared at like a foreign artifact before clasping it briefly, his confusion in plain sight. Lightning snorted, pushing off the post.

“Save the charm offensive, Elon. They’re not here for your keynote speech.”

Her eyes flicked to Amara, who climbed out of the driver’s seat, and she shot Musk an exasperated look.

“Alright, let’s just keep it moving,” Amara said, her boots crunching gravel, leading them on.

The tour began at the perimeter, where nothing much had changed since Lightning claimed the place. When they reached the warehouse, Lightning fell into step beside Musk to talk business.

“We need to talk hardware.” She jerked a thumb towards the structure. “It’s empty now, but I’m thinking an armory. Workshops. A forge, if we can swing it.”

Musk only nodded. Taking mental notes.

“Smart. Armory’s a no-brainer. We can repair, mod, maybe even fabricate some next-gen kit.  I got some ideas. Maybe self-repairing alloys, or AI-driven smithing . You give me the specs, I’ll make it rain gear.”

His enthusiasm was infectious, but his casual tech-dreamer tone made Lightning feel it only too much like a sales pitch.

“Keep it practical,” she countered. “We need tools we can trust, not sci-fi toys that break mid-fight.”

Amara chimed in as well.

“Also, I’m going to rig a proper helipad out back, just a simple one. Along with some logistics for it. But when the hardware gets delivered, you all stay low in the dorms. No need for nosy drivers spotting our sword-swinging crew.”

“That’s a lot of things. Since we are just getting started, I guess it makes sense.” Musk noted all the demands.

The group later filed into Amara’s room. Lightning let Amara take the debrief to Musk first and sat down on one of the chairs, leaning back and leg crossed. Terra and Cecil followed after. There was a chair for Musk, but he didn’t bother, he paced to the nearest monitor as he leaned in close. Amara tapped her tablet to pull up a mission log.

“Alright, let’s break it down from our last op. Our algorithm, the one we built to track rift signatures and warrior pings, flagged a target.”

She flicked a finger, and a grainy image bloomed on the main screen.

“Except when we got there, it went south. Really fast.”

“Ambush,” Lightning’s voice low and precise. “Black-clad operatives, the same guys we encountered at New Delhi. They knew we were coming, and they weren’t there for the rift. They wanted us.”

Her eyes turned to Cecil, a silent acknowledgment of the stakes.

“We fought through and ran into him.” She nodded toward Cecil.

Cecil’s eyes were fixated on the floor, laced with guilt.

“The ambush... I fear it was my doing. Those hunters—the Obsidian Group, pursued me. They offered sanctuary, spoke of taming rifts for peace.” His tone hardened.

“Lies. Their halls were cages, their ‘research’ a leash to bind our powers. I broke free, but my steps dogged ever since. I am sorry, Lady Lightning, Lady Terra. Had our paths not crossed, you might have claimed your quarry unhindered.”

“Cecil, no—don’t say that. If we hadn’t met you, you’d still be running, or worse, caught.” Terra assures him.

“Hold up.” Musk’s brows furrowed. “The Obsidian Group? Private research outfit? I hate jumping to conclusions, but you’re saying they’re straight-up poaching you guys? Tricking you into labs? You sure about this, knight-man?”

Cecil met his gaze, unflinching, his voice steady as stone.

“By my honor, I speak only the truth. Dr. Elena’s words were honey, but her intent was iron. I escaped narrowly, and only by the Light’s grace.”

Cecil’s hands flexed, as if itching for a blade that wasn’t there. Musk nodded slowly, rubbing his chin.

“Okay, that’s... concerning. Let’s backtrack though. Amara, the algorithm. How’d it miss this? We built it to sniff out, not send our team into a trap.”

Amara shook her head and pulled up a diagnostics log on the monitor.

“It didn’t miss anything, but it was fed garbage. I dug into the data post-op. Someone spiked our feeds with false coordinates, fake rift signatures. I triple-checked the encryption. Our servers weren’t breached, but the input data? Poisoned at the source.”

Musk’s eyes was a flash of indignation breaking his usual cool.

“That’s a slick move, too slick. If the white haired dude’s story checks out, I’m betting Obsidian’s the one spiking our punch. They’ve got the tech and the motive.”

He paced a tight circle, hands gesturing in the air. “Nobody just hacks my systems and just walks away. I’ll get my security team on it. This won’t happen again.”

Lightning leaned forward from he chair, her voice cutting through Musk’s attention.

“It’s not just about your servers, Musk. This was a two-birds-one-stone play. They wanted Cecil—knew he was on the run, probably tracked him there. But us? Terra and I were targets too. Draw out the Vanguard, clip our wings before we grow stronger.”

Her eyes glinted with the cold calculus of a soldier who’d seen traps before, in wars she couldn’t fully name.

“They’re not just poaching, they’re hunting. And they’re good.”

“You’re right. I get your point.” Musk shook his head.  “Alright, we pivot. I’ll see what I can do, but you tell me—what went down? The monsters, the portal, the whole mess?”

Lightning stood slow, hands planted on her hips, as she recounted the fight with clinical precision.

“Terra and I was expecting a quick grab. The rift was active, spitting out serpent monsters that can fly. We took down three, maybe four, before Obsidian’s goons swarmed. Had to pull back.” Her voice softened as she glanced at Terra, then Cecil. “Running into him was lucky. We then got out, but it was messy.”

“Smart play, Lightning. Live to fight another day, textbook. Those serpents sound like a data goldmine, though. Next time, grab me a sample—scale, venom, whatever. Could learn from them.”

He caught Lightning’s flat stare and raised his hands, grin sheepish.

“Right, right. Priorities first. You did good. But we need to tighten up, all of us.”

Lightning’s eyes flicked to Amara, her tone hardening just enough to carry weight.

“Speaking of tightening up, Amara had a few close calls out there too. Her chopper took near misses, plural. We can’t afford that.”

“I can handle myself, Light.” Amara’s head snapped up and crossed her arms. Her voice was sharp with defiance. “That bird’s tougher than it looks, and I’ve flown through worse than a few stray shots. I knew what I was doing, I got us out, didn’t I?”

“You did. But ‘nearly went down’ isn’t a win, Amara. You’re our lifeline—one wrong hit, and we’re stranded. Or worse.”

Musk’s brow creased and glancing between them.

“Lightning’s got a point. You three?” He gestured to the trio, his tone shifting to a rare gravity. “You’re built for this—swords, spells, rift nonsense. Ordinary humans like Amara and me? We’re not out here tanking dragons. Maybe ease off the heroics, Amara. Just stick to flying circles around the bad guys, yeah?”

“Noted, boss. But I don’t need babysitting.” She grabbed her tablet and strode for the door. “I’ll be unloading the thing we just bought from the truck.”

The door clicked shut behind her, leaving a charged silence in her wake. Musk blinked.

“Okay, did I miss something?”

Lightning just sighed.

“She’ll be fine. Always is. But we’ve got bigger problems. The Obsidian’s playing chess while we’re still learning the board.”

The door to Amara’s room clicked shut behind Terra and Cecil, muffling the low hum of Lightning and Musk’s voices as they dove deeper into plans spiraling into hypothetical that seemed to loop without landing.

At the base of the stairs, they found Amara by the open front door. She was wrestling with a corner of the massive wooden crate still strapped to the truck’s flatbed outside. Sweat beaded her brow as she caught sight of them, straightened, and blew a stray lock of hair from her face.

“Perfect timing,” she called. “Care to lend a hand before I pull a muscle?”

Cecil stepped forward without hesitation.

“Allow me, Lady Amara.”

Amara smirked, wiping her hands on her jeans.

“Alright, Sir Galahad, you’re on. Help me haul this beast inside. Careful, it’s heavier than it looks.”

“What’s in it, Amara? More of Mr. Musk’s ‘sci-fi toys’?” Terra tilted her head, curiosity blooming as she narrowed her green eyes at the crate.

Amara’s grin was sharp and mischievous. She pried open a corner of the crate with a crowbar she’d snagged from the truck. Wood splintered softly, revealing a gleam of stainless steel within.

“Not quite. Feast your eyes, Terra—this is for you.” She swung the lid wider, unveiling a sleek industrial oven. “You kept talking about baking, right? I pulled some strings, got you the real deal. No more fighting that dinky microwave.”

A delighted gasp escapes Terra, stepping closer.  Her fingers brush the oven’s cool surface like it was a relic from her lost world.

“An oven? For me?” Her voice lit up, but then her brow furrowed, a sheepish smile tugging at her lips as she glanced at Amara. “It’s amazing, but... I don’t know how to use it. This looks like a magic box.”

“Then let us bear this ‘magic box’ to its rightful place. Direct me, and I shall see it done.”  Cecil commented, squaring his shoulders.

But when Cecil tested its weight, his muscles strained. The oven was no wyvern or any of the sorts, but it was a beast in its own right. Terra and Amara flanked him, their voices overlapping in a chaotic symphony of commands as Cecil hefted the oven free.

“Left, Cecil—watch the doorframe!” Terra called.

“No, other left!” Amara added, half-laughing, half-panicked as the oven’s edge grazed the porch railing with a dull thunk.

Cecil grunted, pivoting awkwardly, he had a difficult time to navigate the kitchen’s narrow entry. The appliance teetered, nearly clipping the wall until they finally wrestled it into place against the counter. He collapsed into a chair, huffing.

“By the Light,” he panted, wiping his brow, “this realm’s contraptions test a man’s mettle more than any dragon.”

Amara chuckled, grabbing a can of soda from the fridge and sliding it across the table to him.

“You earned this, big guy. Drink up.”

Cecil eyed the can warily, its bright aluminum alien against his hands, like a potion from a mage’s hoard. He popped the tab, the hiss startling him, and took a cautious sip.

The carbonation hit like a spell gone awry. It was sharp, sweet, fizzing up his nose. He coughed, eyes widening.

“What sorcery is this? It bites the tongue yet... refreshes?” His voice was equal parts wonder and suspicion, holding the can at arm’s length like it might sprout wings.

Amara burst out laughing, cutting through the kitchen’s quiet.

“Just soda, Cecil—safe as it gets. Think of it as... sparkling water with a kick. Keep drinking, you’ll get used to it.”

Amara turned to Terra, gesturing to the oven’s gleaming dials.

“Alright, baking queen, let’s get you up to speed. This beast is simple once you know the tricks.” She tapped a knob, her tone shifting to the focused cadence of a pilot briefing a crew. “This sets the temperature. Timer’s here. Rack goes in the middle unless you’re broiling. Got it?”

She walked Terra through each step, pointing out buttons and settings, her hands moving with the same precision she used on her chopper’s controls. Terra listened intently, tracking every detail and to memorize everything she could.

A spark of inspiration bloomed insid Terra. Her healer’s instinct to mend what was fraying. Baking could be a bridge, she thought. She can tell that everyone doesn’t trust one another fully. It was her second nature, the urge to stitch friendships back together.

“Got it. But... we’ll need ingredients, right? Flour, sugar, cinnamon—maybe chocolate? Can we get some?”

“Hell yeah, we can. Another supermarket run, round two. I’ll grab the keys. You in?” Amara replied excitedly. 

“Absolutely. Let’s give it a shot!”

They turned to Cecil, who was still eyeing the soda like a cautious scholar.

“You coming, Sir Knight? I bet you did not know about supermarkets—think of it like a bazaar, but with air conditioning and way too many cereal options. Might blow your mind.”

“Super... market? A hall of commerce, you say?” He set the can down with grace, a spark of intrigue lighting his silver eyes. “I would see this place, if only to understand the provisions of this realm. Lead on, Lady Amara.”

“Sure… Just to understand the provisions.” Amara remarked sarcastically.

Upstairs in Amara’s room, the monitors’ hum faded to a low buzz as Musk leaned against the table, his usual whirlwind energy tamped down into something cagey. Lightning stood opposite, crossing her arms. Her gaze was sharp, pinning Musk like a target. She could smell a half-truth a mile off.

“Alright, Musk. You’re holding something out. What’s the real deal?”

Musk glanced at the door to ensure no one is around. He took a deep breath.

“This stays between us, Light. The UN’s not just sniffing anymore—they’re finally gearing up, big. They’re closing the net on you all.” He paused, fingers drumming the table unevenly. “But that’s not the kicker.”

Lightning’s brow arched as Musk leaned closer, voice dropping to a serious tone.

“Someone’s out there. Moving in the shadows, night ops only. No photos, no clear hits.” He looked outside the window and continued on.  “He was surgical, extremely efficient, gone before anyone realize what hit them.”

He straightened, rubbing his chin, his mind racing. Lightning stood silent, absorbing his sudden change in personality.

“My gut says there’s an even bigger game. The UN, rifts, Obsidian, and now this. I need more data to confirm.”

Lightning’s eyes narrowed, mind mapping the intel like a battlefield.

Another one of us?

“What’s this ghost up to? Give me a thread.”

Musk shook his head, frustration flashing.

“Too thin to say. Could be someone rogue, could be someone’s pawn. My bet? Rift-tied, like you, but playing a different angle. For now, keep recruiting. More allies, stronger Vanguard. We need you stacked before this blows.”

Lightning nodded, her jaw tight, resolve like steel. The situation gets even more and more complex by the day. She hated not knowing everything.

“Fine. But when your hunch lands, I want it raw—no filters.”

“Deal,” Musk said, his grin flickering back, though it didn’t touch his eyes. “Do you not trust me yet? Anyway, now that we, wait—”

He sniffed the air, catching a scent. A warm, sweet wave of cinnamon and sugar curled up from downstairs, cutting through the room’s sterile hum.

“Is that... baking? Hell yeah, we’re checking this out.”

Musk abandoned Lightning, forgetting all the havoc of the entire world for that tempting smell. Lightning’s lips twitched. She knew who was the cause of this.

Downstairs, the kitchen was a chaotic glow of golden light, the new oven humming like a smug beast as its heat flooded the room. Terra stood by the counter with a mix of pride and panic as she peered into the oven’s maw.

A tray of cinnamon cookies sat inside, golden-brown and puffed up, their spicy-sweet aroma weaving through the air like a charm spell gone wild. She reached for the tray, then she yelped, she jerked back as the metal bit her fingers.

“Ow! Hot—stupid hot!”

“Told you, Terra, mitts or misery!” Amara lobbed a pair of quilted oven mitts.

Terra fumbled the mitts, her laugh high and flustered as she wrestled them on. She yanked the tray free, setting it on the table with a clatter, cookies wobbling like tiny, fragrant moons. Cecil sat nearby, his eyes wide at the contents on the table.

Musk burst in, Lightning trailing with her usual cool stride. He zeroed in on the cookies, eyes popping like he’d spotted a new Tesla prototype.

“What the—baked goods in the rift bunker is this? Terra, you’re out here launching a revolution!” He leaned over the tray, sniffing dramatically, then recoiled as the heat singed his nose hair. “Whoa, okay, lava cookies. What’s the recipe? Some kinda... interdimensional secret sauce?”

Terra blushed, tucking green hair behind her ear, her voice shy but bubbling with pride.

“First try baking here—in this world, I mean. I... hope they’re edible?”

Amara hopped over, peering at the cookies—fluffy, golden, with a crackly sheen that screamed success.

“Edible? Terra, these look like they could win a bake-off! Smell that spice—pure magic.” Her grin was wide, she turned to Cecil. “Right, Sir Knight? These’ll make those MREs taste like cardboard forever.”

“Verily, Lady Terra, the scent alone is a balm to the soul, a beacon in this realm’s austerity. I await the tasting with fervor.” His silver eyes twinkled.

“Wait, wait—let them cool! They’ll burn your tongue off!” She giggled, catching Musk’s greedy hand inching toward the tray. “Mr. Musk, you’ll end up in the infirmary!”

“Busted. Patience isn’t my thing. But, Terra, I need this recipe. ‘Rift Cookies’. I’m already seeing a brand, a franchise. Name your price, I’m ready to negotiate!”

“Oh, hell no, boss.” Amara snorted, sliding between Musk and the tray like a goalie. “You want Terra’s cookie secrets? Cough up the intellectual property rights first. No poaching her genius for your canteen!”

“It’s just cookies, Amara!” Terra’s laughter filled the room like a flare. “But... thank you. I’d be lost without you teaching me that oven and the ingredients run.”

Terra looked at everyone’s banters. She didn’t say it, but the cookies were her spell. Casted to mend their team’s edges.

Lightning grabbed a cookie once Terra signaled the all-clear, her bite careful. Terra finds herself paying real close attention to Lightning’s reaction.

“Damn, Terra. These are... legit. You’re gonna make us fat before we fight.”

Musk snatched a cookie and started chomping with exaggerated gusto, but he stopped.

“Holy—ow, hot, hot.”

Cecil bit into his, slow and reverent. Then he coughed as the cinnamon hit like a fire spell, eyes widening.

“She is a natural! We’re doubling this batch next time, Terra. Chocolate chips, maybe some chili for a kick. Maybe even try other pastries!” Amara nudged Terra’s shoulder.

“Last offer, recipe for the new Cybertruck 2. Final deal.”

“Keep dreaming, boss!” Amara shot back, snagging another cookie. “Terra’s cookies stay Vanguard property. Pay up or bake your own!”

Chapter Text

Chapter 10: Chasing the Tide    

The intense Australian sun hammered Bondi Beach. While the views are amazing, it was torture for Lightning. She crouched on a rocky outcrop.

Her eyes went downward below. A surfing competition was in full swing with bright umbrellas dotting the crowd and cheers rising over blaring pop music. She was slightly annoyed of the mission location was. As they were too many tourist spread around, unaware the danger that could suddenly brew.

“Lady Lightning,” Her earpiece crackled, Cecil’s voice cutting through. “We have reached the competition grounds. The revelry is… considerable. A list of competitors reveals a name—Tidus. We believe he is our quarry.”

Lightning’s eyes narrowed at the information. She squinted against the sun’s glare as she scanned the beach. Terra and Cecil wove through the crowd, their clothing were casual in an attempt to blend in.

Why was he wasting time surfing?

He was a warrior from another world, like her. But in a competition? She pinched the bridge of her nose, the dreadful heat already gnawing her body and thin patience.

“He’s not present, judging by appearances,” Cecil continued, “The list claims he competes soon, but the sands yield no sign of him.”

Lightning’s sigh was sharp, swallowed by the ocean’s roar.

“This guy’s either cocky or clueless,” she muttered, pressing her earpiece. “Keep eyes on the crowd, both of you.”

“Understood. Lady Terra is… distracted by the festivities, but vigilant.”

Lightning could almost see Terra wearing a large sun hat. She didn’t remember Terra having those earlier.

Shaking her head, Lightning pushed the idling thoughts aside.

Focus. 

The ambush still burned in her memory. They’d escaped with Cecil, but it was a trap still. Musk was digging into the breach, hunting for how Obsidian knew their moves.

The plan was straightforward. Terra and Cecil would approach the target, Lightning would provide overwatch from the outcrop, Amara waits in a van a block away, and Marcus at the nearby airport for extraction. She was determined to let another ambush unravel them.

The heat was merciless, clawing at her focus. Terra and Cecil weren’t faring better. As she takes in the view, she suddenly felt a sense of familiarity. A town beside a beach and rolling waves hitting the sands slowly.

She quickly shook her head at that, her gaze flicked to the beach side stalls, where vendors peddled ice-cold drinks.

Lightning thought for a while. Her team deserved something to cut through this furnace. She pressed her earpiece again.

“Cecil, Terra, hold position. I’m grabbing some refreshments. Stay sharp.”

“Refreshments?” Terra’s voice broke in.

“Maybe. Don’t get excited and focus on the mission.”

She rose and brushed the sands off from her shorts.

The beach side bar hummed with chatter and Lightning waited at the counter. She took a sip of a cold one as she waited her takeout for the others.

She remembered her discussion with Amara earlier when Lightning had insisted for Amara to sit this one out. Amara protested, but when Lightning mentioned that a helicopter swirling around a vacation spot will surely give things away. Still, Lightning couldn’t sway her to be the getaway driver.

A tidal wave of cheers yanking her from her thoughts. She looked toward the commotion. And there he was. A figure carved through a towering wave, his surfboard a blur of blue and yellow. His appearance finally matched their pictures from before.

Tidus. It had to be him.

His blonde hair was glinting under the sun wearing board shorts and a sleeveless shirt hugging his athletic frame. He was strutting his stuff in the surfing contest. Lightning’s brow furrowed.

Why is he wasting his time on this?

“And here comes TIDUS, folks! This guy’s rewriting the every goddamn rulebook! Look at that cutback! Unbelievable!”

Tidus spun his board, launching into the air as the wave crested, his body twisting in a gravity-defying spiral. The crowd gasped at the sight, their phones flashing like a storm of fireflies. He landed flawlessly, then sliced through the water with a speed that seemed to mock physics. 

Even the pros on the shore that were tanned and cocky types with sponsored gears—stood slack-jawed, their boards forgotten in the sand.

“Holy hell, he’s threading the needle!” the announcer shouted. “A tube ride so tight it’s like he’s surfing inside the wave’s soul!”

Lightning’s grip tightened on her lemonade as she watches his movements. He moved naturally and fluid, as if the ocean bents to his will.

But it was reckless. The showboating was drawing every eyes on the beach, let alone the world. She pressed her earpiece, her voice low and urgent.

“Cecil, Terra, it’s Light. Get ready to move.”

“My lady, the throng is nigh impassable. Lady Terra and I struggle to advance through this sea of revelers. The fervor is… overwhelming.”

She scanned the beach, spotting Terra and Cecil amid a crush of cheering spectators. They were stuck near a cluster of food stalls.

Terra’s hands flailed, probably trying to apologize for bumping someone’s drink. Cecil stood like a knight in a battlefield, lost, his sunglasses doing little to hide his unease.

“Forget pushing through,” Lightning snapped into the earpiece. “Wait for his turn to end and intercept him there. Try to move to the west side. Move there now.”

“Understood.”

The bartender finally slid a plastic bag with the four lemonade bottles across the counter. Lightning nodded, tossing back the last of her drink and grabbing the bag.

Tidus was still riding in the waves, carving another impossible arc as the crowd roared again. The announcer was losing it, practically screaming, to hype things up more.

Lightning didn’t wait to see him dismount. Time was ticking and she wasn’t risking another ambush. Not with Obsidian still lurking around.

She jogged toward the van that were parked a block away in a quiet alley near the beach. The bag swung at her side and her boots kicking up sand as she wove through the stragglers.

Amara sat at the van’s door. Her eyes glued to her tablet, controlling her drone. 

“Drinks.”

“You… got me lemonade?” Amara’s eyes flicked up.

“Don’t make a thing of it. Anyway, we found him. His name is Tidus, he is showing off out there. Terra and Cecil are moving to intercept.”

Amara nodded, stashing the drinks in the van.

“Got it, Light. I’ll keep checking the perimeter. Although the crowd is making things though for me to spot anything suspicious.”

Lightning agreed at that. She turned to head back to her post, the more eyes scouting the better.

With a fluid leap, she vaulted onto a nearby rooftop. She landed with the grace of a panther. Her sharp eyes scanning the venue’s perimeter below.

The beach was a sea of bodies. Sunburned spectators, vendors hawking glow sticks, and security guards in neon vests patrolling the edges. There were just too many people. Her jaw tightened, frustration simmering.

The Obsidian could be anywhere and they’d blend in like vipers in tall grass. What’s worst is if a sudden rift portal opens up, but she finds it unlikely to happen.

“Damn it,” she muttered.

A deafening cheer erupted again. Lightning’s gaze snapped to the competition stage, where a massive screen flashed the judges’ scores for Tidus.

Eleven. Eleven. Eleven. Every judge had scrawled numbers beyond the scale, as if perfection wasn’t enough. The crowd roared louder at that. Tidus stood on the stage. 

“Thanks, everyone! Just doin’ what I love out there! Couldn’t have done it without these waves—and all of you!”

Lightning’s eyes narrowed. He was a walking spotlight, and she hated it.

“Tidus has CRUSHED it, folks! Those elevens? Unheard of! This guy’s a bloody legend!”

“Lady Lightning, we’ve located the competitors’ resting spot. We shall intercept him when he enters there.” Her earpiece buzzed.

“Good call,” she replied.

Lightning dropped from the rooftop, landing softly in the alley.

After waiting for a while, Tidus finally slipped inside the break room Cecil had mentioned. Terra and Cecil seized the moment when he went in, passing through the thinning crowd.

Lightning was back to her overwatch spot, scanning for anything once more. She pressed her earpiece and switching to Amara’s frequency.

“Amara, it’s Light. Tidus is in the breakroom. Terra and Cecil are moving in. Get the van ready.”

“Copy that. Any sign of trouble?”

“Nothing yet.”

She switched frequencies to Marcus, standing by and waiting at the nearby airport.

“Marcus, it’s Lightning. We’re closing in on the target. You set?”

“Right where you need me, Lightning. Another one with wild hair?”

“Something like that. Stay on standby. If this goes south, we’ll need you fast.”

“Always ready for a dramatic exit.”

Terra and Cecil had reached the entrance, then slipping past a distracted guard who was busy shooing a fan with a selfie stick.

She had hoped Terra’s warmth and Cecil’s honor were their best shot at convincing Tidus, but Lightning hated being blind to what unfolded inside. Still, she had to do her job being security.

Her mind churned. The Obsidian tracked rifts, pinpointed warriors like her, Terra, and Cecil, and set traps that nearly cost them everything. Yet here, with Tidus practically waving a neon sign like a beacon, they were nowhere to be found.

Like on cue, a deafening explosion shattered her thoughts. The crowd froze, dissolving their cheers into stunned murmurs.

“What the hell was that?” a vendor shouted.

Spectators craned their necks in search for the source. Lightning’s eyes darted to the break room, thankfully it was still intact. But her relief was short-lived.

She scanned the horizon, and her breath caught at the sight. A plume of dark smoke curled into the sky, rising from the alley where Amara’s van was parked.

“Amara, it’s Light. Status—now!”

No response.

“Terra, Cecil, report. Explosion, I think at the van. Breakroom secure?”

“My lady, we are within, speaking with Tidus.”

“Be ready to move! Something’s wrong.”

The crowd below began to scatter, some running toward the exits, while the others gawking at the rising smoke. Security guards made moves, barked into radios. 

Lightning’s mind raced, calculating.

Cutting the escape route? Or a diversion?

She couldn’t afford to guess wrong.

She could head to the van, but that would leave Terra and Cecil exposed, with Tidus still uncommitted. Her earpiece crackled once more.

“Lady Lightning, the situation falters. Tidus is… resistant. The explosion has sown mistrust. He believes us foes.”

Lightning looked back to the break room just as Tidus burst from the tent in a sprint, weaving through the crowd. 

“Damn it. Cecil, what happened in there?”

“He thought the blast our doing, a ploy to seize him. He fled before we could explain.”

Lightning’s eyes tracked Tidus as he wove through the crowd, heading towards the beach’s edge. She itched to pursue but splitting up was a gamble.

“My lady, that explosion… Is Amara—?”

“Light—Lightning, We’ve got this, okay? Cecil and I can chase Tidus. You have to check on Amara. She needs you!”

That woke Lightning up and realized that she’d been idling, wasting precious seconds.

“Fine,” she snapped into the earpiece. “Cecil, Terra, get Tidus to the airfield. Don’t let him out of your sight.”

“Understood.”

“Go, Lightning!”

Lightning coiled her legs and leaped, launching from the rooftop to the next. Her instincts screamed trap, and she wasn’t wrong. She leaped impossibly high over the rooftops to get an overwatch view of the situation. 

The van was a blazing wreck and there was several up-armored SUVs idling nearby. Her heart lurched as she spotted Amara. She was being carried by two obsidian soldiers into a vehicle, bruised and unconscious.

Fury surged through Lightning and landed hard at the site. She drew her blade and stood slow. Her expression was a storm of barely contained rage.

“It’s her! Weapons free!”

Bullets tears through the alley, but they met only air. Lightning vanished in a blur. They turned their guns to the left to keep up. But her speeds were inhuman, swerving left and right. Their shots only hitting the ground on where she had been.

When she finally closed the distance, they started to panic. Lightning sliced on the guns, spun, and reversed kicked. Sending the poor fellow crashing to their cars. Another saw the opening and fired, but Lightning kneel fast and swung at his torso.

Lightning heard engines roaring. The other vehicles’ tires screeching as they sped away. She gritted her teeth. Amara was inside of them. The soldiers left behind were distractions to buy time.

Her saber glowed as she channel her fury into a burst of energy. A crimson shockwave then erupted outward. It slammed into three soldiers and destroying along their transport left behind.

One of the soldiers held a weapon unfamiliar to Lightning and fired at her. Her instinct saved her and dodged. But the grenade exploded near her stunning her.

Eyes still closed, she rolled to the side as bullets nearly hits her. When she opened her eyes, she saw the soldier holding the grenade launcher reloading.

So it’s a one off…

She smirked at that as she was faster than his hasty reloading and closed the gap. She kicked his weapon off, struck him hard, and he fell to the ground. His grenade launcher just landing a few seconds later.

The remaining few made a move to surround her. She felt an attempt to capture, but she refused to play their game.

She sheathed her saber and sprinted to the nearest rooftop, abandoning the insignificant rest of the few soldiers.

Lightning tore across the rooftops, vaulting from one building to another. Her boots was a blur against the sun-scorched tiles. Her speeds defying the limits of the world around her. But her eyes remained locked on the convoy.

She considered unleashing her power to his them from a distance. But the risk stops her, as Amara could be one of those vehicles.

Lightning slid a bit, but continued on the chase as her mind racing for a better play. Her eyes flickered ahead, catching the road’s sharp turn where it curved toward her. 

That was her chance to intercept them. She veered right, breaking from the convoy’s path. She leapt over alleys and balconies, taking the shortcut.

The pedestrians who saw her thought they were dreaming. When she landed on the road with grace, some of the bystanders gasped at the sudden surprise. But Lightning paid them no mind, she could hear the convoy getting closer around the corner.

She didn’t see them yet, but she moved to strike anyways. Time seemed to slow as she rounded the corner. The moment the lead vehicle came into view, she was already mid strike.

Her blade cleaved through the front of the up-armored SUV, tearing the engine block and everything. She landed on the side of the tree, as sparks, smoke, and fuel sprayed everywhere.

The convoy swerved to avoid hitting the lead vehicle as it crashed to some cars. Lightning moved to attack on the dismounting soldiers. They didn’t expect the ambush at all.

Once they realized what was happening, the hurriedly shouted to their radios and gathered their firearms.

She picked off the still staggered soldiers. Once they finally returned fire, she vaulted to the other side of the vehicles to engage the others. Her tactical mind kicked into overdrive, calculating the battlefield in a heartbeat.

The air thrummed with gunfire. She leapt over the streaks of bullets in a breathtaking arc and swung her blade in a flurry. The obsidian soldiers were completely helpless. There were no match at all.

The other soldiers finally managed to join the fight adding more of their relentless barrage without second thoughts of any collateral damage.

Her eyes seems to be glowing as she wove through the hail of barrage like dodging raindrops. Still, she shouldn’t stay defense longer. So she moved to counterattack, her blade slicing through their gun and armor in fluid motions.

Only then she realized the damage they are causing, a cluster civilians on the sidewalk were nearly hit. They finally put their phones down and flee the area. It was getting chaotic. 

“Get the hell out!” Lightning barked.

Ducking a fresh volley, she dove through the shattered window of a restaurant. The glass was crunching under her boots as she rolled behind a counter. They were diners inside.

“Crawl out the back, now!” She commanded.

They hesitated for a bit, unsure of this pink-haired warrior with a glowing sword. But the soldiers outside continue to unload relentlessly onto the restaurant. Their bullets shredding, mugs, and splintering the counter.

The civilians yelped as their panic overtaking doubt. They and scrambled and crawled towards the back.

“Step aside, clear the shot!” Lightning’s ears caught a shouted order from outside.

She heard again that unmistakable thunk of a grenade launcher loading. Quickly, she jumped over the counter. The grenade exploding inside the restaurant, destroying everything in a massive fireball. Lightning crashed through the window and rolling unto the street.

Lightning hoped that the civilians managed to escape in time. But the soldiers are not giving her time to breath.

“There!”

The grenade launcher fires again and exploding behind her. She dove for cover behind a car, the soldiers’ guns follower her, mercilessly firing at the car.

Lightning was getting pissed off. She wanted to see if Amara was okay, and she had enough of these obsidian soldiers.

She gathered her strength and power behind the car, preparing her attack to end this all once and for all.

“We got her! Don’t let up! Deploy the turret—now!”

A hatch opened on the roof of one of their SUVs. A hidden automated turret appeared. Swiveled to her direction and began firing.

Lightning opened her eyes, her attack ready. She swung her saber with a roar, unleashing her power. A blazing arc tore through her car cover, the screaming soldiers, and knocking back the turreted vehicle. Her attack was like a massive wave of power, a loud crescendo that silenced the world. The soldiers landed like ragdolls against the street and the guns finally went quiet.

Lightning gathered her thoughts and went throughout the wrecks to find Amara, her boots crunching the debris.

The lead vehicle she cleaved earlier was empty, figuring that hostages wouldn’t be in the lead convoy. The second SUV with the turret only had equipment thrown everywhere. The third basically destroyed, but there were no hints of any hostage being inside, or any of the vehicles.

Lightning’s fists clenched, trying to solve the puzzle. There was only one explanation for this. She remembered that there were more than three SUVs in the convoy. When she separated the chase earlier, some of them probably split up.

As the sirens grew louder. She didn’t want to deal with the local enforcement.

“Unit Three, report! What’s your status! Where the hell are you?!”

A crackle of a radio stops her tracks. It was from one of the dead bodies of the obsidian. Hope surged through her as she rummaged the vehicles for anything, and she found it on the passenger seat.

A rugged laptop glowed. Lighting opened its screen, displaying a blinking dot moving north along the coast.

Amara. It had to be her.

“Freeze! Hands where we can see them!”

Armed police rounded the corner, their rifles snapping up. But she ignored them and snatched the laptop. The police tried to follow, but they lost sight of her moments later, confused.

Pedestrians looked at her curiously, as Lightning turned into an alley. She looked at the map and tries to figure out where they are heading. Moving the map lower, she immediately recognize their direction.

It was the same airport their rendezvous and extraction were. The Obsidian Group had the same idea as them to escape. But there were far ahead, she needs time to catch up. She remembered her two allies.

“Cecil, it’s Light. Status on Tidus—where are you?”

After a few seconds, Cecil spoke up.

“My lady, we’ve calmed Tidus. We’re near the cliffs.”

“Obsidian’s got Amara,” Lightning’s voice sharp and urgent. “They’re heading to the airport—same one Marcus is at. Where exactly are you?”

“We’re closer to the airfield than you,” Cecil replied. “Tidus is with us, but—”

Lightning quieted down when she heard Terra talking to Tidus.

“Tidus, please—the people who attacked you, they’ve also got our friend, Amara. She’s one of us, and we need your help to save her.”

Lightning heard a chuckle.

“Alright, sure… helping friends, that’s what matters. If your friend’s in trouble, I’m in. Let’s get her back.”

“Thank you, Tidus. We’re a team, and we don’t leave anyone behind.”

Lightning exhaled at that. There was a flicker of relief cutting through her tension.  

“Time’s running out,” Lightning cut in. “You three—race to the airport. I’ll catch up. Don’t let Obsidian board with Amara.”

“Understood, my lady. We make haste.” Cecil replied, resolute.

Lightning snapped the laptop shut and decided to keep it. It was a goldmine of intel after all, but for now there are far more important things to take care of.

Chapter Text

Chapter 11: Wrong Plane

The first thing Amara Lin felt was the zip-ties carving angry grooves into her wrists.  

The second was the foul cloth gag wedged between her teeth.  

Her head throbbed like a rotor that had lost a blade. The air stank of that familiar avgas, hot rubber, and sun-baked tarmac. She knew instantly she was inside one of airport’s domestic hangars. Which one, she couldn’t tell yet.

Looks like these shitheads have connections too…

Bootsteps echoed. A dozen Obsidian operators were frantically unloading crates from an up-armored SUV. One of them noticed her eyelids flutter and barked something to his partner. Two soldiers strode over, yanking the knots tighter just for spite.

A third set a sleek black briefcase on a crate directly in front of her. The lid hissed open. He punched a few buttons and a low whine rose. A blinding cobalt flashes, starting the hologram. A woman in a charcoal suit is revealed, hair scraped into a severe bun.

Dr. Elena Voss.

Someone ripped the gag down hard enough to split Amara’s lip.

“Ow! A little decency, please?!”

“Miss Lin,” Elena said, voice smooth and arctic. “The Vanguard Initiative. Locations. Personnel. Their signatures. All of it. Now.”

Amara flexed her wrists. Zero give. She arched a single eyebrow instead.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Who are you people, and what do you want with me?”

Elena’s smile was thin and humourless.

“This isn’t one of Elon’s superhero movies where the villain monologues. I’m not playing that bastard’s game.”

Amara glared, silent.

A soldier’s earpiece crackled.

“Ma’am, perimeter breach. It’s them. Team Eight is engaging.”

Elena’s hologram flickered with irritation.

“Extract the asset. We’ll finish this at the black site.”

The feed vanished. Rough hands slapped fresh duct tape over Amara’s mouth, hauled her to her feet, and half-dragged, half-carried her toward the side door.

Heat slammed into her like a wall the moment they stepped outside. Tarmac shimmered and sirens wailed beyond the fence line.

They marched her down a narrow service road. The point man suddenly raised a clenched fist.

“Hold up.” He pressed a finger to his earpiece. “East route’s compromised. Regroup at Bravo. Move!”

They veered sharp right, looking for a place to lay low. They made do with the maintenance workshop, pushing up the large roll-up door up. Terrified mechanics gasped.

“GET OUT! MOVE IT!”

They sprinted for their lives as the shutter slammed down behind them.

“I just got word our transport is cut off. Damn it!”

Amara was shoved to the concrete floor hard enough to rattle her teeth. The team formed a loose circle, arguing in clipped, panicked bursts.

It must be them. They came for me…

One operator swung a heavy backpack forward and unzipped it. Inside sat a matte-black device etched with violet runes.

“Beacon still has charge. Pop it, we buy thirty seconds of pure chaos.”

“Are you brain-dead?” another snapped, shoving him. “That thing tears a Class-Three inside a major airport. We’re already on every CCTV from the resort to here!”

What in the heck is that thing? Is that device, what I think it is?!

Another spoke up.

“Sir, exfil solution. ATC grounded everything else, but that bird’s engines are hot and ready.”

A tablet was thrust toward the leader. A Live security feed of a familiar gray A400M sitting on the east ramp, props turning.

Amara’s blood turned to ice.

Marcus!

She bucked wildly. A rifle butt crashed into her ribs. Breath exploded from her lungs in a muffled scream.

“Hold the bitch still!” the leader snarled. “We kill the crew, take the aircraft, gone in two minutes.”

Amara’s vision blurred with pain. Then she noticed the floor was wet. Seawater seeped under the shutter, rising fast.

Before anyone could react, the entire roll-up door detonated inward on a roaring wall of salt water.

The blast picked up men, tool carts, and Amara herself, tumbling them like laundry. When the wave receded, Amara lay on her side, coughing, tasting ocean.

“Oops. Did I crash the wrong party?”

A figure stood in the ruined doorway. His blond hair plastered to his forehead, board shorts dripping, a shimmering sword twirling lazily in one hand.

Tidus flashed a grin sharp enough to cut steel.

The soldiers scrambled up, rifles rising. Tidus flicked his wrist. Brotherhood stretched into a liquid ribbon that lashed out, sweeping legs and sending two operators crashing into nitrogen tanks with a metallic clang.

“Black really isn’t your colour, boys.”

One lunged with a combat knife. Tidus spun, water spiralling off the blade in perfect arcs, and the man flew ten metres into a tyre stack with a wet thud.

“Strike!”

Amara thrashed toward the exit. A boot pinned her shoulder and a fist cocked back, ready to hit her.

“TIDUS! Where’s Amara?!” Terra’s voice rang out, bright with panic.

“Speak swiftly, lad!” Cecil boomed.

“It thinks that’s her, right—”

The Obsidian leader snarled, reached for the device, and slammed the activation stud.

A blinding violet beam punched straight up through the roof. Thirty metres away, the sky tore open like wet fabric. Two hulking crab-scorpions and something that looked like a shark mated with a chainsaw dropped through the fresh rift, chaos havoc outside.

Tidus whistled.

“Guess the ugly-gram finally arrived.”

Terra hurled a fireball that painted the workshop orange. Cecil parried a lunging fiend, holy light flaring along his blade.

Amara watched helplessly as the last remaining Obsidian hauled her up like a rolled carpet and bolted for the open tarmac.

Outside, pure bedlam. Monsters rampaged across the apron. Baggage carts lay overturned. Ground crews sprinted in every direction.

In the distance, the lone A400M sat with props screaming and beacon lights strobing.

The soldiers sprinted, Amara bouncing painfully on a shoulder. The point man fired three warning shots into the air, then leveled his rifle at the cockpit windshield.

“OPEN THE RAMP OR WE LIGHT YOU UP!”

A tense thirty seconds crawled by. Slowly, the cargo ramp began to lower.

The Obsidian team fanned out, rifles trained on the widening gap, expecting terrified crew with hands raised.

Instead, pink hair caught the sunset.

“Wrong. Plane.”

Lightning’s voice sliced across the noise like a blade through silk. She stood alone at the top of the ramp, crimson blade resting casually on her shoulder.

The soldiers froze for half a heartbeat. They immediately recognizes her and dropped Amara like trash. But Lightning was faster than their fingers on their triggers.

Lightning moved.

She had already struck one. Gunfire sparked off empty air. She was suddenly behind them, on her knee. She swung her blade singing a high, lethal note. Sending the remaining flying and hitting the tarmac hard.

Amara scrambled up on elbows, coughing. Marcus jogged down the ramp, his rifle lowered but ready.

“Coast clear?”

“For the next thirty seconds,” Lightning answered, voice flat.

She sliced Amara’s bonds with a single precise cut and ripped the duct tape free.

Amara sucked in air like a drowning woman. “Thank you—”

“Tell me when we’re wheels-up.” Lightning pointed toward the monsters tearing across the tarmac. “Marcus, Amara—get us to the runway, ramp down.  Ignore the tower. We are leaving now.”

“Copy that.” Amara rubbed circulation back into her wrists.

She spotted the large device lying in a puddle, snatched it, and dragged the surprisingly heavy device up the ramp. Marcus raised an eyebrow.

“Souvenir?”

“Homework,” she grunted, strapping it to a cargo net.

The engines roared louder as Marcus spooled them up. The aircraft lurched forward—straight into the path of a charging crab-scorpion.

Lightning sprinted and drawing the monster’s attention. She peeled off from the aircraft to lure the crab and gain distance, tapping her earpiece while running.

“Cecil—fall back to the bird! We are done here!”

“Light, it’s Terra. Sir Cecil is wounded. Tidus is carrying him.”

Lightning’s jaw clenched so hard her teeth creaked.

“On my way.”

She vaulted over a catering truck. The crab-scorpion bulldozed it into scrap behind her. She spun, boots skidding, and waited.

The beast charged. At the last second she dove right; its claw pulverized the spot where she’d stood. But the crab was slow, and Lightning decided to make it slower.

She rolled, came up slashing—severing tendons, legs, anything that moved. But a magical explosions from Terra’s direction finished the job. The monster screeched and collapsed in a heap.

Terra lowered her hands, panting. Tidus skidded up beside her, Cecil slung over one shoulder like a very dignified sack of potatoes.

Cecil managed a weak smile.

“Forgive me, Lady Lightning… I had to shield the innocents.”

“Shut up and live, knight.” Lightning took his other arm. “We’re going home.”

Tidus glanced at her, eyes wide, grin splitting his face despite everything.

“Pink hair and boss attitude… yeah, you’re definitely not from around here. You the leader?”

“Introductions at thirty thousand feet, surfer boy.”

Tidus laughed, bright and breathless.

“You know what? I think I’m gonna like this team.”

Behind them, military helicopters thundered overhead and sirens converged from every direction.

They hit the still-lowering ramp running. Marcus already had the throttles firewalled. The instant their boots cleared the deck, Lightning slammed the close button.

The A400M thundered down the taxiway, rotated hard, and clawed for altitude.

Through the narrowing gap of the ramp, Lightning watched the airport burn—monsters roaring, and the local forces finally arriving to take care of the chaos.

What a mess…

In the cockpit, Amara’s hands finally stopped shaking on the yoke. She killed the transponder, silenced ADS-B, and leaned back.

Marcus glanced sideways.

“You good, Lin?”

“Never better,” she lied, voice cracking. “Just get us over water and keep climbing.”

In the cabin, Terra knelt beside Cecil, green light pulsing from her palms as she poured healing magic into the gash along his ribs. Cecil’s breathing steadied, grateful.

Tidus flopped into a jump seat, wiping monster ichor off his cheek with the heel of his hand.

“So…” he said, looking around at the battered team, “anyone gonna tell me who the pink-haired terminator is, or do I have to guess?”

Lightning closed her eyes, let the vibration of the engines wash over her. This went from a simple recruiting of Tidus to a full fledged chase throughout the city all the way monsters spawning out of nowhere.

How did it all get to this?

They leveled off at cruise altitude, engines settling into a steady growl.  

Tidus sat sideways on a jump seat, very curious at everyone. He watched the pink-haired woman lean her blade against a bulkhead, roll her shoulders once, then finally turn to face him.

“Lightning Farron.”

“Tidus. Just Tidus… You the leader of this circus?”

Lightning exhaled through her nose.

“Someone has to keep these idiots from dying. Might as well be me.”

Cecil, now propped against a crate with a fresh bandage, gave a tired chuckle.

“The lad is wise to be cautious. I, too, was lured with honeyed words by the Obsidian Group. The very same black-garbed curs you fought today.”

Tidus’s grin faded into something harder. He looked at the deck, then back up.

“Yeah. Guess I owe you all one.”

Terra beamed, clapping her hands together.

“Then welcome to the team, Tidus!”

“Team, huh?” Tidus leaned forward, elbows on knees. “Got a name for this ragtag band of rift-hoppers?”

Lightning opened her mouth—then the cockpit door slid open and Amara stepped through.

“Vanguard,” Amara announced proudly. “That’s us. And Thunderbase is literally the safest place on the planet right now.”

Lightning stared at her, her gaze flat.

“...Thunderbase.”

Amara’s grin turned sheepish. Lightning pinched the bridge of her nose.

“You let Elon name it, didn’t you?”

“Technically he let me name it,” Amara corrected. “He just… paid for everything and added the lightning-bolt logo the size of a house.”

“No way he actually did that.” Lightning groaned.

A beat of silence.

Then Tidus barked out a laugh so loud it echoed off the fuselage.

Chapter Text

Chapter 12: More like…

It was still dark when Tidus eased open the heavy warehouse doors, the metal groaning like an old ship. It was still exactly as Lightning had shown him during the quick tour.

Tidus inhaled deeply.

“Man, this place is dry.”

“What are you doing here?”

Tidus spun. Cecil stood right behind him in the doorway, one hand resting casually on his sword hilt, his silver hair was catching the faint light.

“Whoa, chill!” Tidus raised both hands, grinning. “Just exploring. New guy privileges.”

“We hide nothing from our allies, Tidus.”

Cecil had figured out why Tidus was sneaking around.

“Yeah, well… you guys risked a lot to pull me out of that mess. Gotta admit, I’m still figuring out if I can trust the whole team thing.” Tidus shrugged, smirk undimmed. “Loyalty speeches usually came with strings attached.”

Cecil’s expression softened.

“Forgive my caution. I, too, was once… tempted.

“Those Obsidian creeps, right?” Tidus leaned against a crate. “Almost fell for it—until you lot crashed the party.”

“Yes, they approached me with promises of order and purpose. I allowed myself to be fooled by them. I will not be deceived again.” His voice dropped. “I assure you we are honest and with no ill motives whatsoever.”

“I believe you guys. And the right to be cautious.” Tidus smirked, undeterred. “To be honest, I truly felt safe here, compared back there.”

“What were you doing before?”

“Oh you know… running around, slaying monsters. I had a run in with certain group of people from before… I’m guessing those are Obsidian folks.”

“They say anything?”

“It matches up to your stories, they try to make me come with them. I almost did, no thanks to you guys.”

“They knew we were coming for you. How?” Cecil’s brow furrowed at that.

Do they have eyes on us?

“Well… none of that matters now, it all worked out in the end.”

“You are right.” Cecil resigned. “However, Lightning will not let this pass unanswered.”

Tidus barked a short laugh.

“Saw her in action at the airport. You all fight like that?”

“More or less,” Cecil said, a small proud smile breaking through.

Then his eyes narrowed. Hand drifted back to his sword hilt. He drew it slowly, a holy steel catching the moonlight.

“And yet… we must also measure your strength, Tidus. To know how you will stand with us.”

Tidus’s grin widened, all teeth and challenge. He flicked Brotherhood out of nowhere in one smooth motion. The curved blade shimmered like liquid.

“You sure, knight-man? Don’t want you crying to Lightning later.”

“Let’s see.”

Cecil leapt, high and graceful, his sword raised for an overhead strike.

Tidus swung his blade upwards and their swords made impact, a clash that echoed through the empty warehouse.

The sun was barely peeking over the horizon when Lightning rolled over in bed, pink hair a wild explosion across the pillow.  

Her eyes twitched behind closed lids. Distant  clangs filtered through her dreams, it was familiar and annoying.

A particularly loud crash shuddered through the compound.

Lightning bolted upright, instincts firing. She rolled of her bed and snatched her saber in one swift move.

She was still barefoot when she followed the noise down the stairs, across the courtyard, and straight to the warehouse. The heavy doors were already ajar.

She shoved one open with her shoulder. Everything inside suddenly froze.

Empty crates lay splintered like kindling. Dust swirling everywhere.  

And in the center, shirtless Cecil and shirtless Tidus, locked mid-swing, sweat gleaming, blades crossed inches from each other’s faces. 

They turned slowly, eyes wide.

“…Uh-oh.” Tidus whispered.

Lightning exhaled hard through her nose and pinched the bridge of it.

“You’re sparring inside… at five in the morning. Shirtless. And wrecking the whole place!”

Tidus immediately pointed at Cecil.

“He started it! Said we needed to ‘test my mettle’-”

Cecil cleared his throat, interrupting Tidus.

“It was merely an evaluation of his capabilities for the team, Lady Lightning. A… controlled exercise.”

Lightning’s glare could have melted steel.

“There’s an entire desert outside. Use it.”

She turned on her heel and marched back toward the dorms. The two scrambled after her, still arguing, their voices carrying on the morning breeze.

It was too early for Lightning for something like this.

She reached her door just as Terra’s creaked open across the hall. Terra emerged in oversized pajamas, green hair a sleepy cloud, rubbing her eyes.

She reached her room just as Terra’s door creaked open. Terra emerged in oversized pajamas, green hair a sleepy cloud, rubbing her eyes.

“Are under attack or something?”

“No,” Lightning sighed, disappearing inside. “Just the boys being boys.”

The door shut with a firm click. Terra tilted her head, thoroughly confused.

Three hours later, Lightning was dragged from sleep again, but this time by Terra’s indignant shriek echoing down the corridor.

“SHIRTS! FOR THE LOVE OF EVERYTHING—PUT! SHIRTS! ON!”

The kitchen smelled incredible: garlic, ginger, sizzling oil, and the deep, rich perfume of a curry.  After all, it was their first attempt for a proper home cooked meal.

Both Terra and Amara’s aprons are a mess when they came out from the kitchen. Terra took upon herself and leads the cook, she was eager to learn. Amara did her best to assist her, they had a few close calls of a disaster. Still, Terra insisted to do things for herself and Amara was proud at that.

Terra ladled steaming katsu curry rice into bowls, golden panko-cutlets perched on top like crowns. She laid out the bowls unto the dining table, counting.

“One, two, three, four, and five!”

“Nice work! Told you can do it.” Amara wiped the sweat on her forehead.

Cecil, seemingly drawn out of nowhere, cleared his throat to compose himself upon seeing the steaming dishes laid out.

“Come everyone, dinner’s served!” Terra cheered. She didn’t bothered removing her apron full of mess.

Cecil sat very careful, eyeing the alien dish. Lightning came down right on time as well. Amara couldn’t hold her laughter in.

“Don’t worry guys. I promise that either you would love it… or hate it.”

“What do you mean by that?” Terra was puzzled.

“B-but if Terra cooked it, I’m sure it would be really good.”

Cecil made the first move and his first bite, he froze. His fork was still in his mouth again, eyes wide.

“You okay there, knight? Look like you just saw a ghost.” Lightning smirked across the table.

Cecil swallowed slowly and placed the spoon down.

“This… this is sorcery of the highest order.”

Amara grinned, hands on hips.

“Terra did ninety percent of the work. Spent three days watching cooking videos, asked me a million questions, and dragged me to three different stores for the right curry roux.”

Terra flushed, waving it off.

“I simply followed the steps…”

“What’s a curry? Smells insane.” Tidus came out of nowhere and slid into the seat beside Cecil, bowl already in hand.

In contrast with Cecil, continued on his meal with his perfect medieval etiquette. Small bites, napkin dabs, the whole thing. He raised an eyebrow at Tidus when he scooped a massive spoonful and shoved it in his mouth. He immediately teared up, eyes watering, and face turning red.

“Hot! Hot! But good! Why does pain taste this amazing?!”

“Young Tidus, one typically employs proper use of utensils when in polite company. After all, Lady Terra worked hard on the dish.”

“You’ve got it all wrong, man. Eating like that feels rude to the food. This stuff deserves to be devoured!”

“Nonsense. A warrior honors his meal with decorum-”

“We’re not in a royal banquet!”

Lightning watched the two bicker.

Loud, messy, zero filter…

She wondered, not for the first time, if every new recruit would slide into the team this easily. She hoped so.

Terra caught the faint grin on Lightning’s face and tilted her head. Lightning noticed, quickly busied herself by finally her first bite. Lightning noticed Terra from the corner of her eye, watching her, hopeful on her features.

Lightning chewed. Swallowed. Expression neutral. Terra’s anticipation stretched like a bowstring. Finally, Lightning gave a small nod.

“It’s good.”

That was all Terra needed. Her face lit up like sunrise.

“Really?! Okay, okay—what should we try next? Pasta? Amara, you said something about—”

“Slow down, chef. One triumph at a time.” Amara laughed.

Plates scraped clean, the team migrated to the common room couches.  The device retrieved by Amara sat on the coffee table like a black, rune-etched paperweight.

Amara tapped it.

“Still no idea how Obsidian built this thing. The runes I can see aren’t from any Earth language I can find. I have no idea how it runs.”

Lightning leaned forward.

“My guess? It somehow summons monsters from other dimensions on demand. That kind of tech doesn’t just appear. Either they reverse-engineered something, or…” She hesitated. “Or something like it brought us here in the first place. Maybe even unintentionally.”

“A grim thought.” Cecil frowned.

“So we’re basically got involved forcibly from our worlds?” Tidus scratched his head.

“Pretty much,” Amara gave a sigh. “I’m taking it to Elon tomorrow. See what he thinks about it.”

“You trust him with it?” Lightning’s eyes narrowed.

“I trust him more than Obsidian having it.” Amara shrugged. “He’s our best shot.”

Lightning exhaled through her nose.

“Fine. Go. But we need the weekend off, get rest.”

The room erupted in tired, genuine cheers. Tidus pumped a fist.

“POOL PARTY!”

“We don’t have a pool.” Amara snorted.

Tidus perked up, undeterred.

“Figures.  I saw inflatable ones! We could set one up inside warehouse—”

“No.” Lightning cut in instantly.

“Come on! Can’t you guys have chosen a more suitable place to set up shop? The air here is super dry.”

“Absolutely not. We’re supposed to look like one of those boring logistics compound from the outside. A pool screams ‘secret base’.”

Tidus huffed, but a wide grin emerged.

“Secret base? More like… Thunderbase!”

Lightning’s gaze went flat.

Terra giggled. Cecil hid a smile behind his hand. Amara wheezed hard, pounding on the table.

Chapter Text

Chapter 13: Starbase Shadows

The van rolled to a stop at the edge of the vast, flat expanse. Dust kicked up in lazy swirls as the doors slid open.

Lightning stepped out first, squinting against the relentless sun and the distant roar of heavy machinery.

“Man, this place is huge.” Tidus hopped out next, stretching, his arms flailing everywhere.

Terra followed, tugging at the hem of her oversized green sweater. It was casual, but the color still screamed tourist.

Cecil emerged last, silver hair tucked under a baseball cap, looking mildly uncomfortable in a simple gray t-shirt and cargo pants. He scanned the perimeter out of habit.

The guards at the checkpoint eyed them warily as they approached, scanning and flipping through their IDs one after another. Their brows furrowed deeper with each card.

“Environmental researcher… charity organizer… private security trainer… and a professional athlete?” One guard looked up, confused. “These clearances are good, but I’ve never heard of half these. Any events coming up?”

“Probably.” The other guard shrugged, glancing at his clipboard. “Wait, is today’s the field trip group, right? Some education outreach thing?”

The first guard checked his tablet, frowning. “Nah, that’s tomorrow. Today’s just the usual contractors and a couple of VIPs. These IDs are full access though… weird combo of roles.”

The second guard snorted.

“Boss signs off on weird stuff all the time. Let ’em through.”

The group filed into the main lobby. It was sleek, air-conditioned space with massive windows overlooking the production yards. Assemblies were spread throughout, workers in hard hats moving with purpose.

“Welcome to Starbase, everyone.” Amara strode out from a side corridor.

“Okay, now I get it.” Tidus let out a low whistle.

“Don’t.” Lightning shot him a look.

Terra had to stifle a giggle.

“Young Tidus, our haven is meant to remain inconspicuous. Perhaps lower your voice,” Cecil reminded.

“Yeah, yeah.” Tidus waved it off. “But come on, it’s right there. Thunder. Base.”

“Keep talking and I’ll make sure the next rift drops you in the middle of the ocean.” Lightning pinched the bridge of her nose.

Before Tidus could retort, Amara changed the subject. She brightened at their unusual appearance.

“Wow. Actual normal clothes. I almost didn’t recognize you all.”

Tidus smirked and struck a quick pose with his arms spread, his lanyard flinging about.

“Hey, I rock board shorts and a tank every day. This is dressed up for me.”

Amara laughed, her eyes sweeping over the group again.

Terra was in her oversized green sweater. Cecil looked really uncomfortable in clothes. And Lightning, in her black hoodie and jeans, sunglasses still on indoors like she didn’t care who noticed. Her pink hair contrasting her colors.

“Okay, seriously,” Amara said, tilting her head with genuine curiosity. “How did you guys not completely fumble this? I mean, no offense, but your fashion sense is probably from, like, medieval fantasy catalogs and… whatever Blitzball jerseys look like.” She eyed Tidus.

“Oh! That was Lightning!” Terra’s face lit up instantly. She bounced on her toes, hands clasped in front of her. “She looked at everyone’s usual outfits and just… knew what would work here. And she was so specific!”

“Lady Lightning’s counsel was… most prudent.” Cecil added quietly. His eyes fixed to nothing in particular, clearly remembering something he’d liked to forget.

Amara’s grin widened. She turned to Lightning with raised eyebrows. Lightning shifted her weight, arms crossing tighter.

“We needed to blend in. That’s all. No point drawing attention before we even reach the lab.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” Amara stepped closer. She studied Lightning like she was solving a puzzle. Amara raised her hands in the air, envisioning it.

“We can make it work! I’m seeing potential here. Give me five minutes and I could turn this whole team into something coordinated. Matching color palettes, lightweight fabrics, maybe some hidden pockets for gear, reinforced stitching for when things get… stabby. Practical, but sharp. I can already see it! And we could…”

Lightning exhaled hard through her nose.

“Amara. Focus.” Lightning’s tone dropped. “The device?”

“Right, right. Sorry. Got carried away again.” She jerked her thumb toward the corridor. “Follow me. Lab’s this way.”

As they started walking, Tidus leaned toward Terra and muttered under his breath, “Are they really going to make uniforms for us? I don’t like being restricted.”

“I kind of want to see what she comes up with…” Terra giggled softly.

“Don’t encourage her.” Lightning must’ve heard them from the front.

They trailed her through the sprawling facility. Amara gave them the ground tour, explaining along the way. Lightning turned her head to the side, eyeing a grounded prototype. Amara noticed.

“Shame about that one. We couldn’t solve the power issue. Might get shelved. Elon insists he needs mini arc reactors now for it to work.”

Amara exhaled while Lightning raised an eyebrow.

“Arc reactor?”

“Don’t ask.”

They continued the tour, reaching an elevator.

“This place went through a lot of history. Believe it or not, we started here as tents!”

Amara waved her hands proudly, revealing the view from the elevator’s window—an underground manufacturing facility filled with contraptions. Tidus’s eyes went wide.

“Whoa…”

“Impressive,” Cecil remarked. “Much different from the Obsidian.”

Lightning perked up.

“Cecil, I should have asked about the Obsidian HQ. You managed to get inside, right?”

“I did, Lady Lightning. Perhaps we delay on that until we reach Sir Elon.”

“Is Elon like… our boss or something?” Tidus asked.

“Yes and no?” Amara replied for him. “While he finances and provides the needs of the Vanguard program, he only acts in an advisory role to Lightning.”

“Still suspicious.” Lightning said. “What does he get out of all of this?”

“Honestly, It’s hard to explain. Something about the good of humanity, and wanting to do his stupid roleplay.”

“Roleplay?” Terra asked.

“It’s a long story.” Amara huffed. “Ultimately, he let Lightning lead the program. There was no one better to lead the team than someone who is actually from the other worlds.”

“Thanks for explaining!” Tidus nodded. “Definitely cleared things up.”

They reached a secured lab door. One of the armed guards, lazily leaning against the wall, quickly stood at attention when he saw Amara.

“Hey, Amara. Elon’s inside. Um…” He looked at the quirky-looking group.

The guard dutifully scanned their IDs. All green-lit. He decided not to question it and stepped aside.

Inside, the room was sterile white, humming with equipment. The unknown device sat on a central table, surrounded by diagnostic rigs and cables.

Elon Musk looked up from a console, his grin wide.

“The interdimensional A-team arrives! Tidus, right? Welcome to the big leagues. Worth every penny.”

Lightning cut straight through.

“Findings. Now.”

Elon grinned and gestured to the device.

“It’s a beacon. Pulses a signal across dimensions, tears open temporary rifts. Monsters come through like moths to a flame. This tech is wild. Some kind of magic mixed with what looks like quantum entanglement principles. Not ours. Not anyone’s we know.”

“Quantum entangle…?” Cecil squinted.

“Just something I made up. I get to coin the term,” Elon replied.

“So how do we shut it down?” Tidus leaned in.

“You don’t, at least not from here.” Elon shrugged. “It’s a receiver. To stop the summons, you need the origin point. Basically, the source broadcasting the signal. Kill the transmitter, kill the summons.”

“And where is this source?” Cecil frowned.

“Beats me.” Elon rubbed his chin. “I was hoping you all remembered something. From your worlds, anything really.”

“I remember…” Terra bit her lip. “Green fields. A castle. Magic in the air. But nothing precise.”

“Zanarkand. Blitzball stadiums. The sea. That’s about it.” Tidus scratched his head.

“Baron. The Red Wings. No more.” Cecil nodded solemnly.

Lightning stayed quiet, arms crossed.

“Nothing usable?” Elon looked around.

“We’re forgetting the obvious.” Lightning finally spoke up. “Obsidian’s behind this. They built the device, or at least deployed it. Dr. Elena Voss. Amara said she’s the head. If anyone’s got intel, it’s her.”

Elon exhaled. He of course knew that person.

“I can dig… but Obsidian’s got deep pockets and deeper connections. Private military, shell companies, politicians in their pocket. That route’s a long shot.”

Cecil straightened.

“Then we strike at the root. They lured me once. They promised sanctuary and led me to their facility. They may try again with the others like us.”

“So we just wait for them to make a move? Or…” Tidus perked up, with a sudden idea in mind. “We go public! Broadcast to anyone with weird powers and say, ‘Hey, come to us, we’re the good guys!’”

Lightning’s glare could have frozen fire.

“Terrible idea. Obsidian already knows we exist. They just don’t know our scale, location, or numbers. We go loud, we paint a huge target on our backs. And on anyone who answers.”

“Agreed… I’ll see what I can do.” Elon nodded. “In the meantime, stay here a few days. Lodging’s secure. Amara will show you the lodgings. We’ll have to brainstorm later.”

Amara’s mood suddenly lightened up.

“I can’t wait to show you guys! We have rest houses beside the beach. I already have the barbecue prepped!”

“Oooh, I am curious about the flavors you’ve mentioned from before!” Terra was already on board.

“Did somebody say beach?” Tidus joined the bandwagon and turned to Cecil. “Dude, I can finally teach you Blitzball!”

“Who said I wanted to learn that?” Cecil was clearly amused.

Lightning wanted to remind them that they didn’t come here for a vacation. She exhaled.

I suppose I should let them have their fun.

In the sparse but comfortable lodging units near the beachside perimeter, Terra caught Cecil and Tidus trying to slip out. She blocked them at the porch.

“Behave, you two,” she said firmly. “We’re guests. No wandering around.”

Cecil bowed slightly, deciding to be honest.

“Forgive me, Lady Terra. I merely wished to observe the facility.”

“Yeah, and maybe check out if the beach is secure,” Tidus grinned.

Lightning was leaning against the glass door and spoke up.

“No traps here, Cecil. Elon’s paranoid enough to make sure of that.”

Cecil relaxed fractionally.

“Your assurance eases my heart, Lady Lightning.”

“Speaking of which, now is a good time to talk about your venture at the Obsidian.” Lightning inquired.

“Yeah, man.” Tidus turned to him, genuinely curious as well. “Find anything inside?”

Cecil nodded. He turned to a chair and sat down to continue, his mind recalling the events.

“They transported me through an underground tunnel near London. I felt tense the moment I went deeper into the tunnel with only one way in and out. When we passed several secured checkpoints, that is when I knew something was wrong.”

“Clear trap,” Lightning commented.

“Yes. I tried to make excuses, fresh air, even a bathroom. But they were adamant about following me. I tested the waters to see if they would react hostile, and they did. Everything was blurry after that.” Cecil continued.

“Can you show me the location?”

“I still remember, but it is probably not a good idea to go back.”

“Right.” Lightning thought fast. “They probably left already, given that they knew you’ve joined us. Or it could be a trap. Still, we should let Amara know about this and see what she can do.”

“You have a clear head, Lady Lightning.” Cecil was grateful.

Speaking of Amara, a loud knocking interrupted them as she burst in. She was in her casuals this time, hair messy, but clearly excited.

“I got it!” She raised a bag. “Who’s ready for some camping?”

It was probably the worst mistake they’d done. Night had already fallen and the cold air coming from the sea was merciless. What made it worse was the coastal wind kept blowing out their hard-worked fire. Amara was groaning and shivering.

“Great. Skewers are gonna go to waste.”

Lightning sat in a folding chair, pulling up her hoodie. She watched the gang gathered around the fire pit, debating which rock windbreak was best.

Terra clapped her hands, remembering something so obvious.

“We have powers! Let me help.”

She cupped her hands and a small fireball bloomed. Cecil tensed.

“Lady Terra! Someone might—”

Terra winced.

“Oops. Sorry! Got excited. But look, no one’s around. It’s dark.”

Amara stared, then laughed.

“Okay, that’s cheating. And I love it.”

The fire roared to life. Skewers could finally sizzle. Tidus whooped, dancing around with sticks in his hand. Cecil had to rein him in. Terra and Amara couldn’t stop laughing. Lightning only sat down, listening to their laughters. As she watched the flames dance, for a moment, the weight lifted. Almost normal.

Too normal…

“Leader. Artifact confirmed inside the main lab.”

A calm, almost regal voice crackled back through the speaker.  

“Understood. Proceed with caution. We could tread on another’s ground tonight.”

A woman with dark hair leaned away from the phone as the call ended. Her posture was tense and restless, clearly annoyed about the sudden development.

“Initial plan’s a bust. Felt like heavy hitters arrived earlier. It may be them.”

“Agreed,” the sword-bearer grunted. “No point risking it blind. We need a quieter way in.”

A soft rustle came from behind them and they both tensed up. A third voice, light and teasing, spoke.

“Aw, you two started without me? I’m hurt.”

“You’re late.” The woman shot him a dry look.

“Fashionably,” he replied with a wink. “Now, what’ve we got?”

She pulled out a small folded printout. She had snatched it earlier from an admin desk.

“Field trip. Corporate partners, education outreach, some tour groups…”

“That’s it! That’s our window.” He leaned forward, his grin turning sharp. “Tomorrow’s the best opportunity. I slip in with the tour group with disguise and access. That’ll get me past the doors, and the beacon’s mine before lunch.”

The sword-bearer studied him for a long moment.

“You always were the best at taking things that aren’t yours.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” he quipped. “But I’ll need an exit. Once I’ve got the device, I ping you. You come get me, or I find my own way out.”

“And if you get spotted?” The woman crossed her arms.

“Then you make noise,” he said cheerfully. “Create the distraction. Something loud, something chaotic. Hopefully not needed. You’ve got my back, right?”

She snorted.

“Don’t push your luck.”

The sword-bearer finally nodded in approval. He turned to them.

“We move tomorrow. Clean. No bodies. No traces.”

“Relax. Tomorrow they’ll have dozens of strangers walking around with cameras and badges. One more face in the crowd won’t even register… until it’s too late.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 14 : The Kid in the Lobby

A loud commotion tore Lightning awake. She threw the pillow away as she reached for her saber. She grabbed the door knob, already thinking of Cecil and Tidus. 

If those two go nuts again, I…

Terra was stepping out of her own room at the same moment, green eyes wide with worry.

“Lightning…”

“I heard it.”

But from the common area, muffled grumbling filled the room. Tidus and Cecil had been sleeping on the pull-out couches. Now clearly disturbed and sitting up, hair a mess, and blinking in confusion.

“What the hell is that noise?” Tidus rubbed his eyes.

Cecil was already on his feet, hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

“Something is wrong.”

Lightning’s phone erupted, demanding attention at the worst possible time. She stepped aside for a bit to answer.

“Amara—”

“Lightning! Under attack! Right above the main production yard! Monsters everywhere!”

“Slow down,” Lightning replied. “Breathe. Where are you?”

“Control room, trying to…”

Lightning ignored the voices as Cecil gestured them to walk over to him. He was staring right outside the window. They all crowded around. A huge violet-green tear hung in the sky directly above the facility. It was Tidus who spoke first.

“Out of all places to drop a monster party… they picked here?”

“This is no coincidence.” Cecil’s expression darkened. “A rift appearing directly over us?”

Terra’s face was full of worry as she clutched the windowsill.

“Is the Obsidian after us? We… might have brought this on them.”

She was worried about how the Obsidian could have traced them right after they’d gotten hands on their beacon. And now the others were suffering for it. Lightning’s voice cut through her thoughts.

“Later. Right now, we focus on what we can do.”

She turned to them, already formulating her strategy on this surprise attack.

“We evacuate the civvies. Purge the monsters.”

Tidus cracked his knuckles, grin returning. Cecil nodded once. Terra exhaled, shoulders squaring.

“Right. Let’s go.”

They arrived at the production yard in a dead sprint, weapons already drawn.

Several workers and tour guests were fleeing in every direction, scrambling into vehicles. No one seemed bothered about their weapons as they were prioritizing surviving. The team all skidded to a stop, staring up at the rift.

“Cecil, with me. We draw the big ones away from the exits. Terra and Tidus, clear the civilians. Get them to the outer gates.”

“We’ve got it.” Terra nodded.

“On it, boss.” Tidus flashed a thumbs-up.

Lightning and Cecil broke off toward the center of the yard.

A massive Behemoth suddenly charged them from a corner, catching them off guard. It was close, but Lightning and Cecil dodged on time. The beast came crashing hard and loud onto the equipment lying around.

Lightning and Cecil took their positions as the beast struggled to untangle its horn from the debris. Fortunately, a metal plate was stuck into its horn as it pulled away, preventing clear vision on its eyes. It was their perfect chance.

Lightning moved first, deciding to finish it quickly before it could cause more damage. Cecil saw her intention and followed up.

She blurred forward and flashed her saber in a storm of electrifying slashes. The beast staggered, wailed about, and charged blindly. Lightning had enough time to dodge out of the way.

The Behemoth finally managed to remove the plate, but Cecil was already primed up. A ring of radiant light suddenly erupted around the monster, burning into its legs. The monster screeched. But Cecil didn’t pause; he delivered a final upward slash at its center. The force levitated the beast a bit and it fell to the ground.

The two waited a bit for the beast to recover, but it was dead.

They were interrupted by a sudden flash of lights and slowly but surely, the rift had closed.

“Good. We did it.” Cecil sheathed his sword.

“Lightning!” Terra’s voice crackled through Lightning’s comms. “There are monsters underground here as well! They’re heading toward the labs.”

Cecil’s eyes narrowed, piecing everything together like puzzle.

“They’re after the beacon.”

Lightning quickly understood, her jaw tightened.

“Obsidian used another beacon device. A distraction to retrieve the one we had.”

Tidus’ voice joined in.

“Guys, I’m already down there. The vault’s open.”

Lightning and Cecil’s gaze met, confirming their suspicions.

“On our way.”

Lightning tapped her forearm repeatedly as the elevator descended painfully slow. Cecil beside her was calm but alert.

“How did they find us here?” Cecil wondered. “And Thunderbase?”

“Maybe compromised. Too early to tell.”

The door finally opened. Lightning quickly made to head out, only to jump back on reflex to dodge several swings. Cecil quickly drew his sword and met the fiends’ crude weapons as well.

Cecil met the glowing eyes of said monsters as he tried to hold them back. Lightning couldn’t make a move to attack. They were stuck inside.

The hallway was crowded with monsters, their weapons trying to poke at Cecil.

Dammit!

Cecil grunted as he charged an attack and successfully pushed down the frontliners.

Opening!

Lightning held her stance but a wave of green fire swept through the corridor, the elevator door closing just in time to save them both. Cecil pressed the button, and they saw all the fiends he was fighting were now burnt into ashes.

Terra stood at the far end, hands still glowing. She looked relieved when she saw them.

“You’re okay!”

“Status.”

“Everyone underground is evacuated. They followed drills, thank goodness. No casualties down here.”

“Let’s go.”

Lightning did not delay.

The secured lab door was wide open. Guards were gone. They hurriedly stepped inside and found Tidus pacing near the empty central table, hands on his head.

“The thing’s gone. Cleaned out.”

Lightning swore under her breath.

“They hit us while we were busy with the monsters.”

Cecil folded his arms.

“Calculated attack. They took the device to keep us from studying it further.”

Amara and Elon burst in behind them.

“Lightning, did you take the beacon? Tell me you took it somewhere safe.” Amara frantically interrogated.

Lightning shook her head.

“No.”

“Then we have a serious problem.” Elon’s face fell and he tapped his tablet. “The database logs show someone accessed the lab during the attack. The ID used was yours.”

Lightning went still. She reached to the pouch on her belt, where she always clipped her ID card.

Gone.

She patted all of her pockets. Nothing. Her mind came flashing back.

Lightning’s eyes hardened and she held her temple. The others watched her dawning realization. She couldn’t believe she had let her guard down.

“It’s that kid…” Lightning mumbled.

“Who?” Elon turned to Amara.

Amara blinked, visibly confused.

“The one I gave the patch to?”

Lightning nodded once.

“He bumped me earlier. While we were talking.” She explained to the others.

“No freaking way.”

Elon exhaled, his hands on his waist. He walked to the table where the device was. His eyes fixed on the beacon was placed, now empty. He was visibly upset.

Everyone felt defeated.

With a sudden surge of energy, Lightning went over the table and slammed her fist down. That grabbed everyone’s attention. Lightning’s eyes was focused and sharp.

“They’ve underestimated us.”

It was bright and early at the lobby. Multiple voices were filling the room. A line was formed inside by the visitors, filled with excitement. Amara and Lightning were in a corner. Amara was still in full persuasion mode.

“I told you! What would it take for us to collab?”

“I told you.” Lightning repeated, crossing her arms. “We’re not a band. So, no.”

Amara opened her mouth to argue more until a laughing kid bumped into Lightning’s shoulder.

He had blond hair, visitor jacket, wide innocent eyes. He immediately raised both hands.

“Oh sorry! I’m so sorry, ma’am! I got a little excited. You know, being finally here for the tour!”

Amara laughed softly.

“Aw, he’s so cute. Here, take this.”

She pulled a small souvenir patch from her pocket and pressed it into his hand.

The kid was confused. He hesitantly accepted it.

“Thanks!”

Figuring the kid was scared being told to his parents, Amara turned to Lightning for her response. Lightning rolled her eyes and leaned over.

“Don’t worry about it.” Lightning assured. “Be careful now, you wouldn’t want breaking anything expensive alright? Now, enjoy the tour.”

The kid paused, seemingly stunned by this. He then shook his head, regaining composure.

“O-of course!” The kid beamed. “Won’t happen again. Thanks!”

The kid backed up fast and melted back into the tour group. Lightning’s eyes watched him go for half a second, then shook it off.

Zidane slipped into the nearest bathroom. Thankfully, he was alone, perfect for his call. He leaned against the wall, wiped the drop of sweat on his forehead.

Whew! Close one.

He pulled out his phone and hit the speed dial. It rang once.

“Did it work?” The sword-bearer answered.

Zidane smirked, even though no one could see it.

“Of course it worked. I’m the best at this kind of thing, remember?” He twirled the stolen ID card between his fingers. “Nabbed a high-access pass. We’re back in business.”

“Where exactly did you get a high-access pass?”

“Let’s just say I had to get… creative. Pink-hair was distracted. Perfect opportunity.”

The other voice exhaled sharply.

“Are you crazy? Your cover could’ve blown. If she’d noticed—”

“She didn’t.” Zidane cut in. “I need a higher clearance pass, and the visitor pass isn’t going to cut it. I had to improvise. You want the summoning tool or not?”

There was no answer right away.

“Don’t rely too much on improvisation. Your skills might’ve saved you this time, but luck runs out.”

“I know.”

The sword-bearer shifted topic.

“What about the other group? Any update on them?”

Zidane paused. He stared at the stall door for a second, replaying the morning. His hands flipped the souvenir patch naturally in his hands.

“They seem… nice.” he said finally. “Competent. Tight-knit.”

“Don’t be played, Zidane. We’ve been burned before.”

Zidane exhaled through his nose.

“I know. I’m not getting soft. Just… observing.”

A beat of silence.

“Mission’s still a go. Proceed as planned. And try to avoid any more improvisation this time.”

Zidane chuckled softly.

“No promises. How’s Gaia? She still bored out of her mind?”

The other voice snorted. It was the closest thing to a laugh Zidane had heard from him in weeks.

“Complaining the whole time. Said if we don’t move soon, she’s going to start breaking things.”

Zidane laughed under his breath.

“That’s our girl.”

The bathroom door creaked open.

“Gotta go.” he whispered. “People.”

He ended the call and pocketed the phone in one smooth motion. As he washed his hands like any other, his thoughts drifted to what had happened earlier.

They’re nice… Okay, maybe too nice.

He shook it off.

Mission first.

He dried his hands and slipped back into the hallway, blending into the crowd once more.

Zidane moved through the corridors like he belonged there. He had changed into a hard hat and worker coat that was slightly oversized. He hoped it would go unnoticed.

Security checkpoints were everywhere, but the card worked flawlessly. Green light after green light.

Almost too easy.

He thought, a small grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

People always underestimate how much trust a little plastic rectangle buys you.

The deeper he went, the quieter it became. He rounded the final corner, the hallway leading straight to the hardened lab door.

He stopped.

It was only one guard. Leaning over a reception desk, scrolling lazily on his phone. Headphones in one ear. But there was no other entrance. Zidane pressed his back to the wall, exhaling slowly through his nose.

Damn it.

He ran through options in his head: fake injury, distraction, even steal the guard’s own badge. But every single one carried risk.

Come on, brain. Think.

Then the lab door hissed open. A man stepped out and the guard straightened slightly.

“Mr. Musk.”

“Equipment run,” he replied. “Need a few things from storage.”

“Got it, sir.”

The man walked fast, distracted, mumbling to himself about calibration curves and power spikes. Zidane had no clue whatsoever, but he grinned.

Scientist. Studying it. Perfect.

He waited until the scientist was past, then slipped out from behind the vending machine and followed carefully.

The scientist pushed into a side equipment room. Inside were long shelves of tools, diagnostic rigs, coiled cables. He started grabbing things and piling them in his arms like a kid in a candy store. Then he stopped.

“Too many…” he muttered.

His eyes landed on a rolling utility cart in the corner. He dumped the load onto it and went deeper into the shelves, still talking to himself.

Zidane’s gaze zeroed in on the cart. Small maintenance cabinet underneath, it was just big enough for someone his size.

There it is.

He moved quick, quiet, and folded himself inside. The door clicked shut softly just as the man turned back.

He dropped a hefty rig onto the cart. The whole thing jolted. Zidane clamped his jaw to keep from grunting. The man frowned down at the cart when he started pushing.

“Since when is this thing so heavy?” he muttered. “Maybe I should work out again…”

He shrugged, grabbed the handle, and started pushing with effort. Zidane peered through the thin ventilation slit.

Spot on. Still got it.

The ride was bumpy, the wheels rattling over seams in the floor. When the scientist finally stopped, Zidane knew he was now inside the lab.

The man began organizing tools on nearby benches. He was methodical, muttering about readings. Satisfied, he stretched and headed for the door.

“Alright… back to it.”

The door hissed shut behind him. Zidane waited and counted to thirty.

Silence and no returning footsteps.

He eased the cabinet open, unfolded himself with a quiet groan, rolling his shoulders.

“Getting harder to hide in confined spaces now,” he whispered to himself.

He turned and there it was, sitting on the central table, hooked to several rigs Zidane had no idea how it worked.

He stepped forward, picked it up casually, flipped it over in his hand like it was a toy that wouldn’t break if dropped.

Not bad for a morning’s work.

He secured it in an inner pocket and double-checked it wouldn’t slip out.

Then he paused as he turned to the door. He had no exfil plan from here. He pulled the almighty card from his sleeve and was about to swipe. But he froze.

Guard’s still out there.

He scanned the room again. Vents, but even smaller than where he went into. Panic surged as there was no other exit.

“Great.”

He glanced at the phone in his pocket.

Should I call for the distraction now?

The floor vibrated suddenly. A low rumble built under his feet. The equipment around rattled. Zidane, surprised, braced against the table.

Earthquake?

He figured that this could be the rare chance his luck on full gear. People could start evacuating, giving him the perfect opportunity to blend in with the crowd.

But he shook his head. They’d probably come back to pick up the summoning tool to save it from the earthquake. It was too important after all.

A sudden shockwave interrupted his thoughts. Everything shook violently more than before. After it stopped, Zidane listened carefully.

There were distant explosions. His eyes widened, remembering the woman he was with.

You impatient lunatic! We said subtle!

But he couldn’t help the grin.

Well… that’s one hell of a distraction.

Chapter Text

Chapter 15: The Kid Who Started the Storm

Zidane almost slipped on the gravel as he forced himself to slow from a full run. He tried hiding behind a couple of boulders but abandoned the idea. Everyone was running for themselves anyway.

People were fleeing in their cars and buses, tires screeching, and their horns blaring in panic. The first responders looked confused about what to do. They screamed into their radios, voices cracking as the peaceful morning suddenly turned into chaos.

Maybe we went too far.

A loud horn blared right behind him. Zidane assumed it was the tourist bus again. One of the tour guides tried to usher him into the bus. But Zidane managed to slip away and ditched his remaining tourist disguise, yanking off the cheap cap and bright lanyard in one fluid motion.

He jumped aside as the van almost hit him and skidded to a halt. He finally recognized them.

“Hey, watch it!” Zidane greeted them with a quick grin.

A certain male with long silver hair tied back stuck his head out from the front passenger seat.

“Get in! Quick!”

The van’s side door slid open and closed in a heartbeat for Zidane to jump back in. He was still securing the door when the driver floored it.

“Are you sure it’s fine driving around like this?” Zidane asked, bracing against the seat.

“It’s fine. Everyone’s booking it.” The driver kept his eyes on the road, but after a pause, he suddenly demanded furiously at the rearview mirror, 

“What in the hell was that?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing.”

Sitting beside Zidane, the dark-haired woman twisted on her seat, glaring at him with unamused eyes.

“Excuse me?”

“We’ll talk about this later,” the silver-haired man’s voice was edged with urgency. “We need to leave first. Cloud needs to focus.”

It was getting dark when the van parked in the shadowed lot of a budget motel they’d booked earlier. Its faded sign flickering, with the usual one bulb out. It was nothing fancy, but enough for a temporary hideout for their mission.

The silver-haired man exhaled hard at the sight of a firetruck speeding past on the highway.

“We need to debrief,” he said as he opened the door.

“First things first.” The driver slammed his door shut. “Do you have it?”

Zidane smirked, his hidden tail flicking in quiet satisfaction.

“Do I have it? You’re asking the wrong questions.”

He pulled the tool from his pocket and tossed it lightly to him. The driver caught it one-handed, eyes narrowing as he turned it over, studying the runes under the motel’s weak light.

“Looks intact. I’ll make the call.” He nodded at them and walked off, phone already dialing in hand.

Zidane turned, only to be intercepted by the woman. Her arms crossed, clearly still annoyed at what Zidane said earlier. Before he could say anything, she brushed past him without a word, her shoulder clipping his just hard enough to make a point.

“You should apologize to her.”

Zidane turned to the one guy remaining with him beside the van.

“Hey, it’s not like it was my fault.” Zidane waved a hand dismissively. “Just throwing out a guess on what happened.”

“I get it. But we need to figure out what happened. Let’s get back inside.”

The air in the room smelled like cheap carpet and old air freshener. Maps were spread out on the bed, with clear instructions of their plans drawn on them in red marker. Only the latter half of their plan hadn’t quite gone as expected.

The snapping of the phone gathered everyone’s attention.

“I told Leader what happened. He said we should lay low for a while. Maybe a day before we rendezvous,” the sword-bearer informed them.

“Can’t argue with that,” the silver-haired man spoke, rubbing the back of his neck.

Zidane leaned against the doorframe, watching the woman flop onto the bed with an exhausted sigh.

“You gonna keep freezing me out all night, or…?”

She crossed her arms, only staring at the ceiling.

“I didn’t do it!”

“I’m just saying,” Zidane raised both hands in mock surrender. “The timing was a little too perfect.”

“I don’t have that ability.” She finally looked at him, her eyes sharp and wounded. “Even if I could, I’m not some monster.”

“Yeah… I know.”

Silence settled.

Their minds churned, suspicions hanging thick. The sword-bearer finally sat down on the edge of the other bed.

“It wasn’t us,” he said flatly. “Which means it was probably them.”

“The other guys?”

He nodded once.

“Vanguard. Or whatever they’re calling themselves now. They were probably after the summoning tool too, but we beat them to it.”

“So they’re the ones who summoned those monsters?” The woman snorted, voice dripping disdain. “That’s low, even for them.”

Zidane stayed quiet. His mind kept drifting back to his encounter with them. He had watched them in action back there.

Something doesn’t add up…

He absentmindedly pulled out the patch, eyeing the details and stitching, his thumb tracing the embroidery.

“You’re unusually quiet,” the silver-haired man noticed as he glanced over.

“Just tired,” Zidane shrugged, forcing a small grin. “Long day, y’know?”

“We leave at first light. Get some rest.”

The sword-bearer stood and placed his huge weapon aside carefully. But Zidane turned and headed out the door.

“I’m just gonna grab some stuff.”

His team members’ eyes followed him as he left, the door clicking shut behind him.

Zidane just needed some air. There were a lot of things on his mind. Mostly he wanted to ignore his growing suspicions. Spotting the convenience store below from the second-floor walkway, he trudged down the stairs, boots scuffing concrete.

The store’s light felt way too bright compared to the night outside. The store and the motel were owned by the same old man. The owner was initially suspicious of them when they arrived the day before, but their excuse as tourists was enough since he gets a lot of them anyway.

His arms crossed as he pointed upwards to the TV mounted on the ceiling. Zidane’s eyes followed.

It was the news showing the aftermath at Starbase. The reporter continued her report, voice steady but grave.

“…it was quite unusual for all places the monsters could appear. There were several injuries reported. Thankfully, no word of any casualties so far…”

The owner suddenly jolted, only then noticing Zidane’s presence.

“Jesus, kid! You came out of nowhere!”

“Sorry!” Zidane laughed apologetically and pointed to the screen. “Just intrigued.”

“Yeah, it was pretty close here. I hope nothing like that happens here.”

Zidane had grabbed a bottle of water and a bag of chips. As the owner scanned his items, he noticed the patch Zidane was twirling in his hands. He recognized the design. He had seen it way too often.

“Hey, kid. You were there during the attack? Are you hurt?”

“Huh? Oh no, I got this from my… Dad. He went there a long time ago. We’re supposed to go there earlier, but the attack happened.”

“Thank goodness. Be careful out there, kid. With these monsters, rifts, even superhero freaks… the world’s gone to hell.”

Zidane laughed, but it came out short and somehow quiet.

“Thanks. I’ll try.”

Zidane stretched himself out outside the store. He was feeling much better now, but imagining the long journey back made him remember the long journey. He exhaled hard and looked at his chips.

*Heh… I wonder if Gaia likes this flavor.*

He rounded a corner, already imagining the teasing he’d get later. Only to feel a sudden warmth on his back. He was confused. It was a different kind of warmth, like snuggling under a soft warm blanket on a winter night.

Zidane yawned, suddenly sleepy. He was hearing muffled voices, but he willed himself up the stairs.

“Sleep…”

It was then everything went hazy for Zidane. No one could resist it. His knees buckled and he fell down the steps. He expected the solid tiled ground to bump his head, but someone caught him midway down the stairs.

A pink blur.

“Gotcha.”

Then everything went black.

Terra crouched low behind the dumpster. Her green eyes wide as she stared at the limp figure in Lightning’s arms. The young man’s head lolled against Lightning’s shoulder. She leaned in and whispered.

“Did… did it work?”

Lightning shifted her grip under the young man’s knees and shoulders, careful not to jostle him too much. She looked at him; his face looked peaceful and grinning like an idiot.

He seemed to be enjoying this…

“Third time’s the charm. He’s out cold.”

Terra exhaled, one hand pressing to her chest. 

“I was so worried the sleeping spell didn’t work.”

“Good job.” Lightning gave a short huff.

She struggled but managed to click her earpiece.

“Amara. Get the chopper ready to land. We got the package.”

“Copy that, Light. Five minutes.” Amara’s voice crackled back. 

As they walked a fair distance in the darkness, Terra edged forward, peering closer to get a good look at the supposed poor victim’s face now that they had a moment.

“Are you sure he is the one?” she asked quietly. “He looks… harmless.”

Lightning’s gaze hardened. 

“He’s the one who stole my ID earlier. Remember it bright as day.”

“Uh… guys?” Tidus’s voice came through, interrupting them. “We might have a little problem.”

Terra, more comfortable with the tech now, tapped her own earpiece without hesitation. 

“What’s wrong?”

Tidus chuckled, but it sounded forced.

“Let’s just say the welcoming committee showed up early. Oop—”

Lightning and Terra looked up to the sky as black void chains suddenly erupted.

They turned a corner to get a better look and saw Tidus caught between the chains, struggling to break free.

“Tidus!” Terra called.

There was no moment to watch. Out of the corner of Terra’s eye, a silver blur streaked towards the two of them. Lightning tensed to move, but the dead weight anchored her. She couldn’t draw her saber one-handed without dropping him hard.

A deafening clang rang out.

Someone appeared between them and the incoming strike, his broadsword raised in a perfect guard. The force of the blow drove his boots back an inch, scraping concrete, but he held.

“Cecil!” Terra gasped. 

Cecil grunted, teeth gritting.

“Lady Terra—Lady Lightning—go!”

The attacker landed lightly on the motel roof above them after the pushback, long silver hair whipping in the wind, his longsword spinning.

Cecil planted his feet wider, somehow pumped up. 

“I will hold him.”

Terra’s hands sparked green, ready to help out. 

“But…”

“Cecil.” Lightning cut her off, shifting the weight. “Follow as soon as you can. Don’t make me come back for you.”

Cecil’s lips curved with just a hint of a battle-hungry smile. 

“I would not dream of it.”

He rolled his shoulders once, his armor creaking, then launched upward in a silver arc toward the roof. Sword met sword in a shower of sparks that lit the night like brief lightning.

Lightning and Terra sprinted towards the field, but Tidus’s voice burst through the earpiece, breathless.

“Hey! A little help would be nice!”

“Terra.” Lightning paused. “Cover Tidus. I’ve got our thief.”

Terra nodded sharply and broke into a sprint towards the chaos.

When she reached Tidus, he was in the thick of it, his Brotherhood sword flashing in wide arcs, slicing through some of the chains with great effort, only for two or more to lash out.

Terra skidded to a stop just outside its reach.

What to do?

Her mind raced back to their training sessions in the warehouse, where they’d shown each other their skills and abilities. Maybe it was due to her desperation, or her lost memories, that her mind flashed something stirring inside, something holy and radiant.

That’s it!

Steadying her voice, she tapped her earpiece. 

“Tidus, keep moving! Dodge and slash. Just buy me time!”

Tidus twisted mid-swing as he parried another chain. 

“Against these things? Easy for you to say!”

Terra ignored the doubt. She planted her feet, her palms glowing with a soft, pure white light as energy gathered. 

“Hold on! I’ve got this!”

Tidus glanced over his shoulder and saw Terra charging up, the glow building in her hands. His grin flashed and he finally understood.

Terra’s hands flared brighter. It was ready. She raised her hands high, voice clear.

“Holy!!”

A massive beam of purifying light erupted from her palms, streaking towards the chains. It was intense, brightening the night like dawn breaking.

The impact was blinding.

The void tendrils shattered, being burned away into wisps of black smoke and fading ether.

The chains holding Tidus finally gave way, and he fell to the ground hard onto the asphalt. Terra was already running over, healing light blooming from her palms before she even reached him. She knelt, pressing both hands to his shoulders.

“Terra, you’re officially my favorite wizard.”

“You’re welcome. Can you stand?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

He pushed himself up, then scanned the smoldering lot, eyes narrowing.

“She’s not here,” Tidus commented.

“Who?” Terra blinked. 

“The girl I’m fighting.”

“Who?” She repeated.

They all initially thought their target was alone by himself; turns out that wasn’t the case. Realizing they were idling, Terra continued,

“We need to go.”

“I’m with you. Things are getting pretty dicey.”

“You’re good,” Cecil grunted and asked, “Your name?”

He finally got a good grasp of his opponent. However, he guessed the other felt the same way towards him. Deciding to buy more time for Lightning, he backed up, but still in guard.

“Firion,” he replied, eyes burning with quiet intensity. “And you?”

“Cecil. May I ask where you are from?”

A pause.

“No memories worth keeping,” Firion replied, his grip tightening on his longsword.

“Same story.”

“You’re stalling.” Firion’s head tilted slightly, his voice low but edged with frustration.

“Perhaps.”

“That’s a mistake on your end.”

Cecil was confused for a bit. He gripped his sword tighter, expecting an unsuspecting attack from Firion. But Firion didn’t make any tricky movements yet. All of his attacks were normal and no probing in them.

Is he holding himself back? Wait… Are you…

Cecil only finally realized when Firion interrupted his thoughts.

“Gaia, now!”

Cecil’s eyes widened. He spun just when a woman came out from the shadows. Her hammer is what he sees first.

“UGH!!”

Cecil tried to block with his sword, but either he was too slow for it or the weight of her hammer was too much; it didn’t matter. It slammed his elbow and sent him flying to a fence. The fence slowed him, but it was not enough to carry the force and Cecil’s weight. He quickly tried to recover, momentarily untangling himself from the fence. Just in time to jump out of the way of another attack. She slammed her hammer into the ground where Cecil had stood a second earlier, destroying the concrete. He rolled sideways and came up in a defensive crouch. The woman already positioned herself to his flank. Trusting his instincts, he looked behind to see the other.

Well coordinated…

Fortunately, they paused, seemingly judging the situation. Needing backup, Cecil raised his index finger to his earpiece.

“No one’s coming,” the woman in front of him interrupted.

“Oh?” Cecil smirked, playing along.

“The loudmouth. He won’t be bothering us.”

Cecil’s mind raced.

The loudmouth… Tidus!

Worry tightened in his chest. Cecil and Tidus sparred before. He judged Tidus was fast and resourceful. So, he was confused on how he was defeated.

He kept his face neutral, sword still raised. The math was simple and brutal. He was outnumbered, out-positioned, no immediate backup in sight. He decided that it was smart to disengage.

But how?

Gaia tilted her head, green eyes sharp. 

“You’re thinking too hard, knight.”

Amara’s voice cracked over the roar of the rotors, screaming something unintelligible toward the open side door. She cursed under her breath, yanked her headset mic closer, and switched to the encrypted earpiece.

“Lightning! Where is everyone?”

Lightning didn’t answer right away. She first eased the sleeping young man into the nearest jump seat, buckling the harness across his. She gave the strap one final tug, then stepped back out onto the grass, her boots sinking slightly in the damp field.

After putting distance between herself and the blades so the comms would hold clear, she tapped her earpiece. 

“We’re improvising. Target wasn’t alone.”

“Light, what the hell is going on?”

“Terra’s on Tidus. Cecil’s occupied. Just hold position.”

She switched channels. 

“Terra, status.”

Terra’s voice came back breathless but steady. 

“Almost there! We are heading to you now.”

Lightning tried Cecil next. 

“Cecil. Report.”

Nothing.

Busy…

A flicker of movement caught her eye—someone running hard across the open field toward the chopper. Lightning’s pulse kicked up. She started forward to meet them.

She stopped dead when the figure resolved.

Who?

He carried a massive sword slung across his back. It was too big for any sane person to wield one-handed. She had no idea what was going on with his weapon, only that it screamed danger. Without words, he simply reached behind him to draw it and leveled it towards her.

“Let Zidane go. Or I take him.”

“So that’s his name. Zidane.” She tilted her head toward the chopper. “Funny. You stole something from us first. Fair’s fair.”

The blonde’s brow twitched. His gaze flicked past her to the cockpit where Amara was visible behind the controls, watching the scene unfold.

“Then maybe I destroy the chopper instead with her inside it. You can’t escape then.”

Lightning’s smirk widened. 

“Your friend’s still inside. You really want to risk that?” She took one deliberate step forward. “Besides… I don’t think you can keep up with me.”

The sword-bearer simply raised his blade higher. Lightning held her stance, expecting his attack.

But he suddenly spun, looking behind him.

Terra and Tidus burst out, panting hard, and weapons still drawn. Tidus was limping slightly. Terra’s eyes went wide, noticing the situation. Lightning exhaled through her nose. 

Finally.

She glanced back at the sword-bearer.

“Looks like you’re outnumbered now. What’s the play?”

She watched his eyes go back and forth for a bit.

“We got your knight,” he replied.

Tidus and Terra froze.

“Wait, what?” Tidus questioned.

The sword-bearer reached behind his back. Lightning tensed, expecting a hidden weapon. But instead, he pulled out a phone.

He flipped it and held it up, close enough for Lightning to see. The photo showed Cecil, unconscious. Seeing that, Lightning’s eyes narrowed to slits. 

“What did you do to Cecil?”

“He’s alive.” The sword-bearer’s tone didn’t change. “Trade. The kid for your knight. Win-win.”

Lightning stared at the photo for three full seconds. Then she looked back at the man.

“No deal. You still have the beacon.”

The blonde blinked, genuine confusion for the first time. 

“The… what?”

“You know exactly what I mean,” Lightning’s voice went cold.

Realization clicked. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small, rune-etched device.

“We call it the summoning tool.”

Lightning’s gaze locked on it. 

“Give it back. Now.”

“No.” He slipped it back into his pocket. “Cecil for Zidane. That’s the deal.”

Silence stretched.

Sirens wailed closer; the police, late as usual, were finally catching up.

Lightning hated this. Hated being cornered. Hated decisions being forced on her. She glanced at Terra and Tidus, their weapons still drawn.

“We could just take you too,” she said quietly. “Three on one. You’re not walking away.”

The sword-bearer braced, but his eyes flicked toward the approaching sirens.

“My friends are on their way,” he said. “This ends one way or another.”

Lightning’s jaw tightened.

Terra stepped forward, her voice soft but firm.

“Lightning… Cecil…”

Tidus nodded, unusually serious. Lightning closed her eyes for half a second.

“Fine.” Her voice was flat. “Take the beacon. We trade.”

The blonde stared at her, visibly stunned. 

“You’re serious.”

Lightning didn’t answer. She turned, walked back to the chopper, and hauled the still-sleeping young man out. She set him on the grass, then looked at Terra.

“Wake him up.”

Terra knelt quickly and pressed her palm to the young man’s forehead. A soft pulse of light passed between them.

The young man’s eyes snapped open. He jolted upright, scrambling backward until he hit Lightning’s boot. He looked up.

“Eek!” He blinked hard, then spotted the blonde warrior. “Cloud?!”

He scrambled to his feet and bolted behind Cloud, peeking out. The two muttered something low. Lightning couldn’t hear over the rotors.

Armored police vehicles were now screeching to a stop at the motel perimeter, lights flashing across the field.

Lightning raised her voice. 

“Your part of the deal. Now.”

Cloud hesitated, but then pulled out his phone and made a quick call. He spoke once and hung up. Without another word, he grabbed the young man’s arm and ran.

Lightning lunged after them on instinct, but Tidus and Terra both grabbed her arms.

“Light—no!” Tidus hissed. “Cops are here!”

Lightning snarled, but she stopped. Armored officers were already fanning out, shouting commands. She let them pull her back toward the chopper.

Amara had the collective raised the moment their boots cleared the deck. The bird lifted hard, banking away from the chaos below.

Lightning sat heavily on the jump seat, saber still in hand. She stared out the open door at the shrinking scene. The SWAT teams were now swarming the motel lot, floodlights sweeping the damaged ground.

Failed again. Twice. Beacon gone. Cecil gone.

She clenched her jaw so hard her teeth ached.

Then their earpieces crackled.

“Lady Lightning. This is Cecil.”

Terra gasped. Tidus’s head whipped around.

“Cecil?!” Terra cried. “Are you alright?”

“I am… intact,” his voice was strained but steady. “The police are close. I require pickup.”

Amara responded instantly. 

“Copy—follow my tail. Quick grab and go!”

Lightning exhaled and leaned her head back against the bulkhead, eyes closing for just a second.

“Appreciate the help, sir.”

Firion thanked the officer with a polite nod before closing the motel room door. The lock clicked. He exhaled, long and slow, his shoulders finally dropping.

The officers had bought the tourist story. Some foreigners caught in the wrong place at the wrong time.

They weren’t as fortunate as the Vanguard with their helicopters and resources. Just a rented van and fake IDs.

Cloud sat on the edge of one bed, elbows on knees, fingers pressed hard against his temples. 

“Everything almost went to hell.”

Zidane threw both hands up for the hundredth time. 

“I’m sorry, okay? I’m really sorry! They must’ve followed my trace? Maybe security cameras. I swear I ditched the tourist gear fast, but maybe I missed one angle—”

Gaia crossed her arms, her hammer propped against the wall like a silent threat. 

“You missed several angles, genius! Why do you think they were here?!”

Zidane winced, his tail flicking nervously. 

“Okay, okay, fair! But—hey—we got out, right? Summoning tool’s safe, nobody’s in cuffs. That’s a win!”

Gaia opened her mouth to snap back, but closed it. She let out a sharp breath through her nose and turned away, dropping onto the other bed with a creak of springs.

Firion watched the exchange for a moment, then pulled out his phone. 

“I’ll contact Leader.”

Zidane, sensing the danger, saw Gaia reach for the pillows and started throwing them at him.

“I said I’m sorry! C’mon!” He laughed as he dodged with ease.

He tripped over his own feet as he jumped over the beds, crumpling their plans and maps on them, and dropping a few items from his pocket.

Cloud shook his head, already reaching down to scoop up the mess before it got worse. 

“Whoops! Sorry,” Zidane said, jumping along.

Cloud’s fingers closed around a small embroidered patch first.

Souvenirs. During a mission. Of course he did.

He shook his head again, almost amused despite himself, and reached for the other two items.

The fake visitor ID they’d planted earlier, a blurry photo of Zidane in the cheap cap. Cloud froze at the second one, eyes wide. It was the one Zidane had stolen.

Private Security Trainer…

Chapter Text

Chapter 16 – Breather at Thunderbase

The quiet stillness of Thunderbase was suddenly shattered as Amara’s chopper descended onto the large flat ground within the compound. The rotors whipped up a storm of dust and loose gravel, swirling violently against the fences. Marcus stood a safe distance away, one arm raised to shield his eyes as he waited for the cloud to settle.

When the dust finally thinned, Lightning was already stepping out, the blades still spinning down. She didn’t even glance at Marcus as she walked past. He called after her, having already heard the news.

“Hey, Lightning. What in the hell happened?”

She ignored him completely, boots thudding against the concrete as she headed straight for the main building. Marcus could only frown at that.

Amara finally opened her door and climbed down, looking exhausted. She caught Marcus’s eye and just shook her head slowly.

The rest of the team filed out behind her. Terra helped support Cecil, who was limping just a little. Tidus trailed after them, his shoulders slumped.

Marcus offered a tired wave. 

“You guys okay?”

Cecil gave a small, polite nod. 

“We are… intact.”

Terra smiled weakly. 

“It’s been a long night,” she said.

Marcus could see it in all their eyes — they weren’t in the mood for conversation. They just wanted to collapse.

Terra gently touched Cecil’s arm. 

“Come on. Let’s get you to your room. I can take care of that limp properly now.”

Cecil nodded gratefully. 

“Thank you, Lady Terra. I admit holding off the two of them took a toll on me.”

Tidus hung back for a second, watching Lightning disappear into the building. His usual cheer faltered. He scratched the back of his head.

Marcus just sighed and turned toward the chopper, grabbing his toolkit. 

“Guess they’re allowed to have one of those days,” he said to himself.

Tidus found Lightning in her room, door slightly ajar. She was sitting at the small desk, fingers tapping impatiently at her laptop. She had gotten surprisingly good with the tech, but right now her brows were furrowed deep, eyes narrowed at the screen like it had personally offended her.

Tidus leaned against the doorframe. 

“Hey, boss. You gonna relax for five minutes?”

Lightning didn’t look up. 

“Not now.”

Tidus stepped inside anyway, hands in his pockets. 

“Come on. Even you need to rest. Sitting here staring at a screen isn’t gonna fix that.”

She finally glanced at him, irritation clear on her face. 

“I said not now, Tidus.”

The words came out sharper than she intended. She caught herself a second later, exhaling through her nose. Tidus gave a small shrug. He knew what happened at the stand-off bothered her.

“It’s cool. I get it.”

He turned to leave, but Lightning stopped him.

“Wait.” She rubbed her temple. “Check on Cecil and Terra for me. Make sure they’re actually resting.”

Tidus flashed her a thumbs-up, his grin returning. 

“You got it.”

Once he was gone, Lightning leaned back in her chair and took a deep breath. Her mind had been racing non-stop. It weighed on her shoulders like armor that had grown too heavy.

The heat outside Thunderbase was unbearable, but thankfully, Amara had installed AC in the large room that had been converted into a kitchen and dining area. The cool air hummed softly from the vents, offering a small mercy after the long, chaotic past day.

Marcus had already made coffee and prepared some simple snacks, trying to keep the energy from completely flatlining. He couldn’t believe what they had told him. Obsidian had their own team, other-worlders like them, working against the Vanguard. What was crazier was how bold they had gotten, attacking Starbase in broad daylight. He figured they weren’t afraid of any subtleties.

Lightning went straight to business, her voice low and sharp. 

“Descriptions of them. Everyone. What did you all see?”

Tidus leaned back in his chair, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Yeah… a woman, kinda intense. I thought she was just some random person at first. I don’t wanna fight her again anytime soon.” He shivered at the memory.

Cecil interrupted gently. 

“I may have met her as well. What weapon did she use?”

Tidus thought for a second. 

“Hammer. Hit like a truck.”

Cecil nodded slowly. 

“Her name is Gaia.”

Tidus blinked. 

“You knew her name?”

“We exchanged words briefly.”

Lightning turned to Cecil at that. 

“The other one. A swordsman you say?”

“Firion,” Cecil replied. “He is skilled with a longsword. Fast, precise, and adaptable.”

Amara, who had been listening while pouring more coffee, stopped and leaned on the table. 

“So, they all have different fighting styles. That makes them even more dangerous than we thought.”

Lightning nodded slowly, arms crossed. 

“They work together like a team. Efficient. That’s what worries me.”

Terra perked up from her seat. 

“There was another one too. We didn’t get to fight him… only talked to him during the standoff.”

Lightning closed her eyes for a moment, replaying the events. 

“He seemed… grounded? Heavy weapon.” She paused, then added quietly, “Zidane called him Cloud.”

Lightning stayed silent for a few seconds, clearly deep in thought.

Marcus, who had been listening from the side, finally spoke up. 

“So… what now? We lost the beacon thing.”

Amara exhaled hard as she pulled out her small notebook, writing down the names. 

“I’ll do my usual digging. If they’re connected to Obsidian, we need to study our enemy properly.”

“I did some research earlier,” Lightning added. “But it was all public stuff. I doubt it’s the full picture.”

The room grew quiet again. The tension was still thick in the air.

Amara’s phone suddenly blared, cutting through the silence. She glanced at the screen and sighed. 

“It’s Musk.”

She answered and put him on speaker without being asked. Terra scooted closer immediately, a worried look on her face. Amara noticed and gave her a small nod.

“Hey, boss,” Amara said. “We’re back at the base. Everyone’s safe and sound.”

Elon’s voice came through, sounding both relieved and wired. 

“Good. That’s good. I’ve been watching the feeds since everything. What a mess. You all alright?”

Terra leaned in, unable to hold back. 

“Mr. Elon… everyone at Starbase. Are they okay?”

Elon’s tone softened a little. 

“Thanks to you guys, no fatalities. Some injuries, but everyone’s stable. You did well out there.”

Tidus shifted in his seat. 

“Yeah, well… we kinda got exposed too. How are you gonna handle the public after all that?”

Elon let out a long sigh that crackled through the speaker. 

“PR is a nightmare right now. I’ve got three different networks calling me every ten minutes. But I’m managing it. What you did there, saving people, might actually give us a good reputation. I’m already in talks with one of the bigger outlets. I’ll make sure the Vanguard comes off looking like the good guys.”

Cecil spoke up, his voice calm but serious. 

“And what about the Obsidian team? The ones who attacked us?”

Elon went quiet for a moment. The silence stretched just long enough to be noticeable.

“…I didn’t think they had their own team like ours,” he finally admitted. “According to everything I’ve dug up on them, there was no indication they had other-worlders on their side. Looks like we underestimated them. This complicates things.”

He started muttering faster, clearly thinking out loud. 

“If I paint Vanguard in a good light, they’ll probably try to do the same with their people. Or worse — they might twist the narrative, sabotage us publicly. Turn the whole thing into a PR war…”

Amara had to cut him off. 

“Boss. Here you go again…”

Elon paused, then let out a short laugh. 

“Right. Anyway, Amara and I have a lot of work ahead of us. You all just rest for now.”

Elon bid his farewells and hang up. Lightning stayed silent the whole time, listening carefully through it all. She quietly admired the effort and dedication of both Amara and Elon were putting in.

CLAP!!

“Alright, that’s enough heavy talk for now,” Amara ordered. “Leave everything to us for now. You all should rest.”

The gang agreed on that. Tidus groaned about needing a long shower. Cecil admitted he just wanted to sleep. Terra looked unsure what to do with herself. Lightning’s eyes were already drifting back toward her laptop.

Amara sighed and walked over to Lightning, holding out a file. 

“Here. Our next recruit attempt. But first…” she pulled it back when Lightning reached for it, “You need to eat first. I noticed you haven’t eaten anything since yesterday.”

Marcus and Terra immediately perked up. 

“Did someone say food?” Marcus grinned, already heading to the kitchen.

Terra’s eyes lit up with sudden burst of energy. 

“Wait, what are we making? Can I help? I want to learn more Earth dishes!”

The trio had already gone into full chef mode, pulling out ingredients and chatting excitedly. Terra kept asking nonstop questions about the food they were planning to whip up.

Lightning could only sit there, watching them with a mix of exhaustion and faint amusement.

Her eyes then turned to the file Amara had laid out in front of her. Lightning opened it slowly, scanning the first page. A photo stared back at her. It was a boy who looked barely old enough to be out of middle school. Sharp eyes and an expression that tried too hard to look serious.

“This kid?” she muttered under her breath.

She glanced back toward the kitchen. Amara was busy stirring something on the stove with Marcus and Terra, all three of them laughing about something silly.

Lightning doubted her for half a second. 

Amara wouldn’t make a mistake like this… right?

But she pushed the thought away. Amara had never led them wrong before.

She turned the next page. The description was short but detailed. He was a high school student with multiple reports of strange incidents around his campus. The pictures Amara had obtained clearly showed it was the same person. Lightning took in every detail mentally, committing it to memory.

She wasn’t surprised when the next page already included a full plan on how they could approach him.

Lightning studied the layout. It showed a busy mall, complete with notes on his routine. There were several clear photos of him frequently visiting a specific game shop on the second floor. That seemed like the most perfect chance to meet — public, crowded, low risk of a scene.

She had to admit it. Amara’s plan was solid. Clean. Thoughtful.

But Lightning still hesitated.

Things had been going sideways far too often lately. She couldn’t afford another mistake. Not with lives on the line.

She closed the file slowly, staring at the cover without really seeing it. She exhaled through her nose and leaned back in her chair.

Amara hits the brake of the unassuming truck as they reached the traffic light. She eyed her surroundings before tapping on her earpiece, her voice was calm but focused.

“We’re thirty minutes out. Everyone good back there?”

Inside the converted mobile operations center, the Vanguard sat geared up and waiting. The space was tight but efficient.

Lightning sat near the front, arms crossed, going over the plan one last time. Her voice stayed low and sharp, but there was an edge of frustration underneath.

“…and you’re still set on taking point with the kid?” she asked, eyes locked on Tidus.

Tidus leaned back in his seat, grinning like he’d been waiting for this. 

“Yeah, I am. We already talked about this earlier, remember? You agreed.”

Lightning’s jaw tightened. 

“Your so called ‘plan’ is still too risky. You’re going in loud and cocky like always.”

Tidus shrugged, not bothered in the slightest. 

“Hey, you said yes. Don’t back out now, boss. I got this.”

Lightning stared at him for a long second, clearly still unhappy.

“You better not get crazy out there. One wrong move and we pull you out immediately.”

Tidus raised both hands in mock surrender, still grinning. 

“I won’t. Pinky swear. I’ll keep it smooth.”

Lightning exhaled through her nose, clearly not convinced, but she didn’t argue further. 

“Fine. If anything feels off, I’m stepping in.”

Tidus gave her a thumbs-up. 

“You got it.”

Lightning turned to the rest of the team. 

“I’ll be up front this time. Close enough to react fast. I’ll pose as another bystander, watching the scene unfold. Terra and Cecil — you’re on overwatch. Stay hidden, stay ready for anything. Marcus will be at the airport, plane hot and ready if we need a fast exit.”

The team nodded. Tidus stretched his arms overhead. 

“Finally. I’m pumped. Let’s get a win this time.”

Terra smiled softly. 

“Me too. I hope he’s okay…”

Cecil checked the edge of his blade, voice steady. 

“We move as one. No one gets left behind this time.”

Tidus and Terra nodded at that. Lightning felt the shift in the air. It was good their morale was had gone back. She turned slightly to Cecil, who sat beside her. 

“How’s the leg?”

Cecil gave her a small, reassuring nod. 

“Much better. Lady Terra did a wonderful job healing it.”

“Thank you, Cecil.” Terra brightened up, hearing them. 

Lightning allowed herself the faintest smile. For a moment, the weight was lighter.

But her thoughts drifted back to the other warriors they had encountered. She didn’t want them interfering with this mission… but a quiet, stubborn part of her almost hoped they would show up.

If they do… I’ll be ready this time.

Chapter Text

Chapter 17 – Firestorm at Sea

Lightning tapped her forearm for the hundredth time. The coffee on her table had gone cold long ago. She tilted her head, peering above her glasses as she watched Tidus lounging at the arcade corner.

According to the cameras they had discreetly tapped into, their target frequently visited the arcade with friends. But today, of all days, he was nowhere in sight.

Not in schedule.

Lightning was already considering pulling the plug on the entire operation. Her instincts were screaming trap.

“Everyone abort.” Amara’s update had decided for Lightning.

“What is it? Are we compromised?”

“Not yet. I need everyone to pull back.”

“Got it.”

Lightning decided not to ask any further questions. She trusted Amara’s judgment after all.

Tidus noticed Lightning jogging over to meet him, not even bothering to blend in with the crowd anymore.

“Plan’s busted?” he asked.

“Maybe. Let’s get to Cecil and Terra first.”

Lightning and Tidus walked briskly through the mall until they reached a secluded spot behind the building. They stood under the shade of the trees, eyes scanning for any signs of trouble.

A few moments later, they heard the sound of boots clanking down a metal ladder. Cecil and Terra had descended from their overwatch position.

“What happened?” Terra asked, brushing dust from her sleeves.

Tidus shook his head and exhaled. 

“Something’s up. I finally got a front-row seat, and then this happens.”

“Let’s not waste any more time,” Lightning cut in, already moving. “Back to the truck.”

The team quickly made their way to the basement parking where their unassuming mobile operations truck was parked.

Lightning opened the rear door for everyone, while Cecil was the last to go in, his eyes checking the surroundings.

“Bad news, I guess,” Amara said once the team had settled back inside. “I got word that the same school our new guy goes to is under lockdown by law enforcement. Something about security and safety issues. Obviously bullshit.”

“So that’s why he isn’t here.” Terra mumbled to herself.

“Precisely.” Amara turned to the monitor, tapping her pen against it. “Probably Obsidian playing under the rug. We need to get ahead of them.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Lightning asked, arms crossed.

“Look.”

Amara went to her keyboard, shifting through several camera feeds. More and more police cars could be seen increasing throughout the area of the mall.

“I see…” Lightning exhaled.

“Yup. Looks like the local PD got strings on them. Obsidian probably got intel on us, and I don’t want us walking into anything nasty.”

There was silence for a long moment. Gears were running in the team’s minds. There were no monsters around this time, so it was clearly another ambush. 

“…And the young man?” Cecil broke the silence, “We cannot let them take him away.”

“We’re not giving up on him,” Lightning said firmly. She moved back to her seat and crossed her legs. “Amara, let’s get to the school.”

“I’m sorry ma’am. The road here is closed,” the police officer said, holding up a hand.

“Really? What’s going on here?” Amara asked from her window, keeping her voice casual.

“There’s word of an attack at the school. Please leave the area for your own safety.”

There was nothing Amara could do but follow the officer’s gestures. They led her to do a U-turn.

She then turned the wheel and parked the truck at a nearby restaurant lot. Once the engine was off, she glanced around using all the mirrors before slipping through the secret door into the back of the mobile operations center.

“Sorry, Light. This is about as close as we can get right now.”

The team stood and went to their gear, checking their weapons. Tidus gave Brotherhood a few casual twirls. Cecil tied his hair back to see better. Terra closed her eyes for a second, feeling the power within her. Amara went to her post, her hands flying across the keyboard. Everyone was gearing for a huge fight, but Lightning stood frozen, eyes fixed on the monitors Amara was setting up.

Amara noticed her. 

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t think brute force is the solution here.”

The others paused at her words. Amara’s eyes showed realization as she turned her chair back to the screen, watching the scene outside unfold.

“She may be right.” Amara admitted.

“Hold on,” Cecil spoke, his voice carrying a sense of urgency. “We simply cannot allow Obsidian to gain the upper hand here. An opportunity we might not regain.”

“I understand where you’re coming from, Cecil,” Lightning turned to him. “We can’t allow Obsidian get the new guy. But I want you to think for a moment. In almost every engagement we’ve had with them, things don’t exactly go our way.”

“I agree with Light,” Terra added softly. “There are a lot of people gathering around to take a look. We can’t let them get hurt.”

Cecil hesitated for a second, but ultimately his shoulders relaxed. 

“Apologies. I let the situation cloud my mind.” Cecil said, nodding along.

“No worries, man,” Tidus clapped Cecil’s shoulder, then turned to the others. “So, what can we do?”

“Just be ready for anything. Whatever this is, it’s probably all a distraction,” Lightning explained. “Obsidian is going to use this to get inside uncontested. They’re probably betting on us to get the authorities involved.”

“So, we bide our time.” Cecil continued.

“Exactly.” Lightning could only smirk. “The mall and now this? They probably have welcoming parties waiting around the corner.”

“So, we’re improvising, huh?” Tidus clutched his fists, sparks returning to his eyes. “I like it.”

“Anything new?” Terra asked as she and Amara returned, locking the heavy door behind them.

Lightning’s eyes stayed glued to the monitors as she shook her head.

“No. Two hours and still the same.”

Terra came closer and handed Lightning her strawberry lemonade, knowing she liked it secretly. She leaned in to look at the screens, following Lightning’s gaze. The situation hadn’t changed much, but media vans and bystanders were now showing up by the hundreds.

Lightning eyed the drink Terra offered and took it with a small nod.

“I wonder why Obsidian is taking so long,” Lightning paused to take a sip. “What are they waiting for?”

“Maybe,” Amara commented as she sat down and chuckled. “They’re probably hella annoyed right now, wondering where we are.”

“So, we don’t fit their nice, clean timetable?”

“Guess so.”

“Where’s the other two?” Lightning asked, swiveling her seat toward Terra.

“Oh, they preferred to see things with their own eyes.” Terra replied.

“They’re just standing outside? They better not do anything stupid.”

“No worries, they’re blending in quite well,” Terra happily replied, delighted as she took a sip of her own drink.

“My kid is in there!”

“Calm down, ma’am.”

Police officers were trying to reassure the growing number of worried parents. They had set up multiple roadblocks to secure the perimeter. The media, as usual, was making everything as dramatic as possible in front of their cameras.

“It’s only a matter of time before our mysterious warriors might appear,” one reporter said, clearly milking the situation.

“Guh!”

Loud coughing earned a lot of head turns.

“What is this beverage made out of?! It’s attacking my mouth!” Cecil complained, wheezing hard. He steadied himself on Tidus, hands on his shoulder.

“I think it’s a type of soda,” Tidus sipped his own drink naturally. “I like it! I wonder how they make this?”

Seeing how easy it was for Tidus, Cecil pushed himself to finish the drink. Each gulp was harder than the last.

“There ya go!” Tidus laughed.

“I prefer something…” Cecil cleared his throat. “…more refined.”

Tidus tuned in immediately.

“Good idea! But I wonder if they taste the same around here.”

“Tidus, look.” Cecil suddenly interrupted, pointing to the barricade.

Several black SUVs had arrived at the perimeter, being let through by the officers without question.

“Looks like the cavalry finally arrived.” one of the bystanders said.

“About damn time. What took them so long?” another muttered.

But both Cecil and Tidus knew better. They slowly backed away from the crowd, disappearing into the growing sea of onlookers.

“We got updates that the SWAT had just arrived and are now preparing to get inside the building. There is still no word of the threat inside. We will notify you when—”

Amara had muted the news just as Cecil and Tidus got inside.

“They’re about to get in. What do we do?” Tidus hastily asked.

Amara stayed silent. Her plan had already been thrown out the window. She turned to Lightning, waiting for her take.

Hand on her chin, Lightning judged the situation on the screens. She watched the so-called SWAT team was about to breach in.

“We wait some more.” Lightning said, her eyes still fixed to the screens.

“Huh?”

“But that will—”

“I know,” Lightning turned to explain. “It’s clearly too dangerous for us to do anything right now. So, we follow them instead, and strike when they least expect it.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Terra nodded.

“Yeah, she’s right. And I’m a hundred percent sure their own team of superheroes are lurking around.” Amara added.

Lightning almost forgot about them too.

“This could be the rare chance for us to finally know who our enemies are,” Lightning spoke with determination, then she turned to Cecil. “And we’ll get the little guy too.”

Cecil nodded at that.

“Right,” Amara said as she reached for her phone. “Looks like we have to tell Elon here we’re running a little late.”

So the team waited, and sure enough, kids were being ushered out of the school and hurrying to their parents, frightened.

Amara waited, taking close attention to the camera feeds until she finally noticed them.

“Light, heads up.” she pointed at the screen.

A kid was being led out through the back door by the same SWAT team, far away from everyone else, clearly acting out of protocol. They loaded him inside at the back of an armored vehicle. The armed men seemed to be still on edge, as they ran back to their convoy.

“That’s him.” Amara noted.

“Start the truck.”

“Over there.” Tidus whispered, pointing ahead.

The team peered through the narrow gap between containers. The same armored vehicle was now slowly driving up the ramp into a large cargo ship.

Obsidian guards in full tactical gear stood watch, maintaining tight formation around the vehicle, their eyes scanning every angle.

“And I bet that’s no ordinary ship.” Tidus continued.

“Only one way to find out,” Lightning whispered back, motioning for everyone to follow.

They moved carefully, darting from one container to another, keeping to the shadows. But after a certain distance, they stopped.

The open area was the only path to get close and there was no way they can manage it without getting spotted.

“They’re raising the ramp. How do we get in?” Terra asked, her eyes fixed on the slowly closing ramp.

“Right above.” Cecil suggested, pointing upward.

He was looking at one of the massive port cranes. Its arm extended close enough to the ship’s deck for a daring jump.

“Good one.” Lightning agreed.

They filed up the metal staircase, careful to keep their footsteps from making too much noise on the grated steps. Lightning pointed to the top beam. It was narrow but the perfect path to run across and jump from. But a voice behind them came up.

“Is this a surprise inspection?” a shocked yellow-vested worker suddenly said, freezing in place.

Tidus opened his mouth to say something, but there was no need. Terra quickly waved her hand toward him, sending a soft pulse of magic that put him into a deep sleep. Cecil caught the man before he could meet the floor.

Lightning turned her head, surprised to see that the ship was already undocking, clearly in a hurry to high tail out of the port.

“Quickly.” She reminded them, “It’s now or never.”

They hurriedly helped each other up onto the beam and ran across it.

Terra went first, landing gracefully on the ship’s deck. Tidus followed with a confident leap. Lightning and Cecil had to jump harder as the gap between the crane and the ship widened large enough. Lightning landed cleanly, then reached back to catch Cecil’s arm as he grabbed on the railings. Tidus and Terra quickly went into action, helping to pull them both to safety.

“Many thanks.” Cecil said, taking a deep breath.

Lightning looked back at the port in the distance.

No backing out now.

“Who’s there?” one of the Obsidian guards said, turning the corner with his rifle raised.

He scanned the area but found nothing. Another guard followed him.

“What is it?”

“I thought I heard something.”

“Are you high or something?”

“Oh, shut up.”

Unbeknownst to them, the Vanguard team had simply jumped up onto one of the shipping containers above, crouching silently as they watched the guards below until they finally moved on.

“Whew, that’s a close one.” Terra exhaled in relief.

Lightning thought for a moment, then broke it down.

“Alright, we split up. There’s gotta be a brig, a secured room, or something where they’re keeping the target. Cecil and Terra, look there. Tidus and I will search the other side.”

“You heard the boss lady.” Tidus gave a thumbs-up. The rest of the team nodded along.

“Be careful,” Lightning added, her voice low and firm. “They might not know we’re here, and I plan to keep it that way. We stay silent unless absolutely necessary.”

The heavy door budged open slightly after Terra melted the lock with a careful, low-power spell.

Cecil stepped in first, sword lowered but ready, scanning the dim room.

“Who are you?” the boy snapped, clearly trying to sound tough.

His hands were bound behind his back with thick restraints. He looked no older than fourteen, but his glare was fierce.

“We’re not with the Obsidian,” Terra said softly, kneeling a respectful distance away. “My name is Terra. This is Cecil. We… we’re like you.”

The boy’s eyes narrowed.

“Like me? Yeah, right. I’ve heard that line before.”

Cecil sheathed his sword slowly, showing he meant no harm.

“You carry a great burden, young one. I can see it in your eyes. I once walked a similar path… lost, deceived by those who claimed to offer guidance.”

The boy looked away, his jaw tight.

“I don’t need your pity. I can handle this myself.”

Terra’s voice stayed gentle, filled with quiet understanding.

“I know that feeling. When I first woke up in this world, I didn’t remember anything as well...” She offered a small, warm smile. “But I found people who didn’t want to use me. They just wanted to help me find my way. We’re not here to control you.”

The boy stayed silent for a long moment, looking down at the floor. Cecil joined Terra and knelt on one knee.

“You do not have to prove your strength by standing alone. We fight not for conquest, but to protect those who cannot protect themselves. You will be one of us.”

The boy looked between them, searching their faces.

“…You’re really not with them?” he asked.

“No,” Terra said softly. “We’re trying to stop them. And we could really use someone as clever as you.”

The boy hesitated one last time then gave a small, reluctant nod.

“Fine. But I’m not a kid. My name’s Luneth.”

Cecil smiled faintly.

“Understood, Luneth.”

Terra reached out carefully and dissolved the bindings with a gentle pulse of magic. Luneth rubbed his wrists, still wary, but there was a spark of cautious hope in his eyes.

Tidus and Lightning slipped through a heavy side door into a large storage area deep within the ship. The door had looked secured enough that they figured the kid might be held somewhere inside. Instead, they only found rows of large crates and bulky equipment covered in tarps.

“Whoa, check it out.” Tidus said in awe as he looked around at the sudden massive room.

Tidus wandered aimlessly toward a stack of crates, his usual clumsiness getting the better of him. He bumped into one, causing the lid to shift. He caught it just in time to avoid making noise, but not before a few items inside clattered.

“Whoops—hey, wait a second…” Tidus whispered, then peered inside. His eyes widened. “Lightning. You need to see this.”

Lightning moved over quickly. Tidus lifted the lid higher for her to see the rows upon rows of small familiar devices. They were hundreds of them, maybe thousands, neatly packed inside.

Lightning grabbed one, turning it over in her hands. Her eyes widened in shock, then narrowed with rising anger.

“…They’re mass-producing them,” her voice low but edged with fury. “That beacon we lost… it wasn’t just one prototype. They’ve got an entire stockpile.”

“No kidding. Looks like they’ve got a whole factory going.”

Tidus called her over again.

“Over here! There’s more!”

Lightning hurried to the other crate. The same devices filled it to the brim. She then moved frantically from box to box, prying lids open. Every single one was packed with beacons.

She took several steps back, absorbing the sight of hundreds of crates spread out before her.

Lightning’s mind raced.

How many rifts can they open with this many?

Tidus explored further in the room as Lightning followed him. They noticed several massive shapes covered by heavy tarps.

Tidus pulled one back curiously.

“Whoa… what are these?” He stared up at the towering machine. “Looks like some kind of… robot weapon? You think they’re connected to the beacons somehow?”

Lightning examined the nearest one, finding a cockpit hatch. She figured out what kind of weapon it was. Realizing the gold mine of intel they uncovered, she quickly took several quick photos, documenting everything as much as time allowed.

Tidus rubbed the back of his neck. 

“We need to tell Amara and Elon about this.”

“Later,” she said, voice regaining its usual sharpness. “We still need to find this young man.”

Tidus nodded, falling back into step beside her. 

“Yeah. Let’s go. Before they decide to use one of these toys on us.”

“All personnel to designated stations. We are under attack. This is not a drill.”

A voice repeated the same urgent message over and over, as alarms suddenly blared from everywhere. Lightning and Tidus exchanged a quick, worried glance.

“Cecil and Terra…” Lightning muttered, already breaking into a run. “They might have been discovered.”

They sprinted through the narrow hallways, their boots pounding against the metal floor.

Tidus rounded a corner first and collided with an Obsidian patrol. The guards froze for a split second, eyes widening in shock.

“They’re already inside!” the patrol shouted, raising his rifle.

Before he could fire, Tidus moved swiftly. His strikes from Brotherhood sent both guards crumpling to the ground.

“No time to chat,” Tidus said, breathing hard as he kept running.

They continued on, but Tidus noticed Lightning was slightly slower than usual. He glanced back at her.

“Something on your mind, boss?”

Lightning’s expression was tight. 

“That patrol… they were surprised we were already inside. That means the attack is coming from the outside.”

Tidus frowned. 

“You think it’s Amara? Finally caught up to us?”

Lightning shook her head. 

“She wouldn’t make a frontal assault so carelessly.”

As they neared the deck, the sounds of chaos grew louder. Lightning swung her saber at the final door. The blade flashed, and the lock exploded in a shower of sparks. The door burst open.

The first thing they saw was fire.

Lots of fire.

Their eyes were immediately drawn to something far more terrifying towering over the ship. A colossal, flaming beast.

Ifrit.

The ship was already in the middle of the open sea, water stretching endlessly in every direction. Yet here was Ifrit, standing on the deck like it belonged there. There was no visible rift.

The two remained frozen in place as Ifrit reared back and slammed a fiery fist onto the deck. The entire ship shook violently. Flames erupted everywhere, melting metal and spreading with terrifying speed.

“Back inside!” Lightning shouted.

They dove back through the door just as a wave of scorching heat rolled past them. Lightning quickly tapped her earpiece.

“Terra! Cecil! Report!”

Static crackled for a moment before Terra’s voice came through, breathless but steady. 

“We’ve got him! Are you two okay? What’s happening?”

“Stay away from the deck!” Lightning ordered. “Ifrit is attacking on the deck. Find another way out!”

“Heavy attack incoming!” Tidus suddenly yelled.

Lightning looked back just in time to see Ifrit charging up another devastating blast. Obsidian unleashed everything they had, even bazookas. All did nothing.

Ifrit roared and unleashed a massive fire tornado that tore straight into the center of the ship.

The explosion was deafening. The vessel groaned and split apart with a horrifying metallic scream.

The force threw Lightning and Tidus backward. Tidus quickly helped her up, both of them coughing from the smoke.

“We have to jump now!” Tidus shouted. “Before the whole thing sinks on us!”

They found a broken section of the hull. Tidus didn’t hesitate and leaped straight into the water below. Lightning hesitated for a split second, still worried about the others, but ultimately jumped after him.

They swam hard, putting distance between themselves and the burning wreck. The ship was now a blazing mess, split in two and sinking fast. They could see some movement around it. It was the surviving Obsidian forces trying to evacuate.

The Ifrit earlier was nowhere in sight.

Lightning and Tidus' head turned upon hearing the the familiar whirring of rotors. Tidus looked around, trying to find it.

“Is it the Obsidian?”

Lightning’s eyes sharpened, peering over the water.

“No.”

Amara’s chopper hovered closer. She had tracked them, but clearly having trouble nailing where they were.

Tidus waved his arms wildly, even using a small burst of water to create a visible signal on the surface.

Once Amara spotted them and brought the bird lower, relief was clear on her face even from a distance.

She hovered just a few feet above the water as Lightning and Tidus reached up to grab the landing gear to climb aboard. The passenger seats were immediately soaked, but Amara didn’t seem to mind.

“I saw the blast from miles away,” she said, her voice still shaky. “Where are the two?”

“Check on their location.” Lightning said immediately.

Amara pulled up the tracking signal, eyes multitasking between the flight controls and the monitors.

“They swam a fair distance to the other side.”

They circled around the disaster ship. The surviving Obsidians on several armed boats noticed the Vanguard’s chopper, but held their fire, mistaking it for theirs.

“What about them?” Tidus asked, his eyes glued to the heavy machine guns on their boats.

“I detect several bogeys on my radar heading here. We need to leave before they arrive.” Amara urgently replied.

“Over there, eight o’clock!” Lightning pointed out.

Three figures were separated from everyone else in the water.

“Tidus, you’re up.”

“Roger that.”

The trio in the water held on to each other as the strong winds occurred when Amara got close and hovered extremely low. Tidus swung the door open and dove straight in.

Tidus helped Cecil up first, carrying his sword for him, so Cecil could reach out to Lightning. Then it was Terra's turn.

“I’m glad you’re safe.”

Terra heard that from Lightning as she grabbed Terra’s arm. Terra paused for a bit, noticing the tension in Lightning’s eyes, but managing a small smile.

In the water still, Tidus turned to the next person.

“Name’s Tidus. Sorry, we’re supposed to meet at the arcade, not like this.”

“What?” Luneth was genuinely confused.

Tidus just laughed it off and offered his hand. Luneth stared at his grin for a moment and reached out his hands to him.