The two hours that it took for the Sargonian transport to get to the border felt like an eternity, and like an instant at the same time. The Emperor could only look out to the west with worried eyes as he waited for the notification that the exchange had gone through.

And when he did, he collapsed to his knees and wept at the stone railing before the gardens.

Gabriel had kept a close eye on the time as well, but he didn’t need to look when he saw the man’s reaction through the ballroom doors. He sighed and shook his head, and stepped away. He made it half-way back to his borrowed apartment – intent on changing into something more fitting to the outward purpose of the occasion – when he got a notification he never thought he’d see.

[Ren Nibasai has sent you a message. Click to view.]

His heart just about exploded, and he was certain he was imagining it. He smacked his own face a few times to be sure, and looked again.

[Ren Nibasai has sent you a message. Click to view.]

He clicked ferociously, and saw a small snippet.

[I’m really sorry. If you don’t hate me, I’ll be at the city’s main park for a while – there’s a memorial garden for past rulers here. I’ll explain what I can.]

He replied immediately, [I’m coming right now. Don’t go anywhere.]

Having his own personal skiff made getting around far easier than waiting on one to collect him, but finding somewhere to park was a challenge. He had to hoof-it about half a block to get to the Memorial Garden entrance, and rushed up the long, winding pathways towards the center where the actual monument had been set. He didn’t see anyone that looked obviously familiar…until he went up the wide steps to where the ‘tomb’ had been erected – with a large, regal sphynx-statue perched on top - and heard that characteristic hissing-thump sound of a Fafnir Knight landing behind him.

Gabriel turned, and spotted that distinct red armor with its massive volcanic-colored wings, standing about 15ft away. He felt his heart skip a beat, but for the first time in a while, felt simultaneously flighty and paralyzed. Words caught in his throat, and a sobering worry fell over him. He could hardly comprehend that she was standing right there.

“Gabe…?” Ren’s voice finally sounded from within the helmet, and she reached up to pull it off. Those bright green eyes were even brighter then, as she felt tears threatening to well within them. She quickly hooked the helmet over the top of her wing-arm, shut off the solid-light paneling, and stepped out. For a moment, she, too, hesitated to approach – no matter her disagreement with Furion’s methods, she still had to agree that the threat he warned against was real. She felt nothing though; Scyrexian was quiet and still. When Gabriel finally took that first step closer, Ren quickly closed the gap, and threw her arms over his shoulders, feeling her feet sweep off the ground as he spun her.

That hug was the most incredible sensation to each of them, like feeling water in one’s throat after days of oppressive heat and thirst. Gabriel held tightly, each of them with their brows pressed to the crook of the other’s shoulder. Ren could no longer fight those tears, but before she let any of them fall, she pulled back slightly, and saw that nearly-identical reaction in his eyes. She set one palm to his cheek and lifted up onto her toes, seeking for the kiss she’d been so eager for since the First had sent her scrambling.

It didn’t matter if there were nearly 20 other people in the park within eyesight of them, taking photos of them and Ren’s armor.

Fingers threaded through that long pale hair, and Ren snuffled to hold back that relieved huff of a laugh. She pressed her brow to his and opened her eyes again, “I’m so, so sorry…”

“What the Hell happened? You’ve had me worried sick for days.” Gabriel answered, keeping his arms tight around her lower back.

“It’s my fault…” She tried to explain, and lifted back into that hug again, grip tight around the back of his shoulders, “I made such a huge mess of things, and then Lord Rylen…and…just, everything…”

“So, it was him…”

“No, no, Gabe…listen to me,” She pleaded, “He told me to get lost, but it wasn’t him that kept me there. I did that myself, because I’m…trying to keep you safe.”

“Safe? Safe from what?” Gabriel countered, confused, “Rylen may be a big dick sometimes but he’s not going to turn on me because I’m in lo-…uh…am I allowed to say that…?”

“It’s okay…I know…” Ren answered, and lowered down again. She pulled her hands back to slide them to the front of the man’s chest, and looked up at those worried eyes, “I’m right there with you, it’s just…I’ve…not been completely forward with you.”

“What do you mean?” He asked carefully, only to understand that look on her face. Every word she’d ever said about the matter came flooding to the front of his mind, and he reluctantly pulled away, stepping just out of arm’s reach, “…You’ve…been in a relationship with Furion this whole time, haven’t you.”

Her brow furrowed, but she gave a subtle nod, “…Things are…really complicated with him right now. There’s a lot of nuance and…gods, I don’t know how to explain it…” She tried, but she could see the man’s whole frame sinking with every word, “And it’s…this is why…I… When we first got together, I told him I was weird with relationships… I tend to get attached to multiple people and I have a hard time seeing things the way everyone else does… He seemed to be fine with it and I’d have my fling with Ravan on the side, but he-”

“With Ravan?” Gabriel finally managed to say, “…So it’s…not even just me…?”

“I already broke things off with her!” Ren attempted, and took a step closer, only for Gabriel to take a cautious step further back, “But a huge problem has been the fact that I like you, now, too…and Furion’s just… I guess it was different with Ravan cuz she’s a woman, but…with you, things just got so stupidly complicated, and Furion got really jealous… So I promised I’d put everything else aside and I’d stay with him since he was there first, but…I can’t stop thinking about you…”

“…I can’t…be a side-piece, Ren…” Gabriel managed, that horrid, terrible pain growing in his throat, “And it’s weird, agreeing completely with Furion about this, since I’m the one who’s losing-out because of it…but he’s…he’s right…”

Ren could feel the man slipping away, and she clenched her fists at her sides, “…I…I’m sorry… I’d have you both if I could, but…”

“…How long have you two been together…?”

“…Eight years.”

“Eight years!” Gabriel echoed in disbelief, and let out an uncomfortable, self-depreciating laugh, “…Eight years…” He took another few steps away, and turned side-face to the woman as that crippling despair really settled-in.

“I told you it’s not so simple anymore, Gabe… When I got punted from the Fafnir, I thought Furion and I were over… And getting reinstated later, I…don’t know that I ever really reconnected with him the way we’d been before.” She tried to explain, keeping her distance then, “There’s been this uncomfortable wedge between us ever since. Maybe it’s because I’d already moved on in my mind, and had embraced this idea of you, but I didn’t…tell him, because he was just so damn happy that I was back… But even he’s been guarded, and he’s really leaned into his persona as Captain Rydell, even when we’re not on duty…”

“Maybe it’s just as well…” The Vice said, his voice tortured, “…You don’t have to worry about me anymore, because after the Dawn, I’ll be…inaccessible anyway…”

“Gabe…”

“…So even if you left him, there’d be no point… The Eidolon don’t really get to have…that kind of thing…” Gabriel continued, vision starting to blur from the grief of it, “Um…so… Thank you, Ren…I guess… That one day we had was r-really nice… I’ll always be grateful that I…got to experience that connection one last time, before I went in…”

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“…Gabe…!”

He had already turned to leave though.

Ren felt the weight in her chest like she’d been impaled with hot irons. She didn’t even have a moment to think about what to do before she heard teenagers laughing from the side, poking at her open armor like it was some art-display that they could meddle with. She angrily sent them off and got back in, but when she reached for her helmet and looked around, Gabriel was gone. She wasn’t sure how he could’ve gotten away so quickly, but no matter where she looked…he was no where to be found. Confused and hurt, she lifted up above the trees, and took one last look around before she was forced to give up.

An hour passed before the next grim bother inflicted itself onto her, but by then, Ren had found herself on top of one of the city’s skyscrapers. She felt both annoyed and intruded-upon as she saw that name flash across her overlay.

[Furion Rydell is calling…]

Frustration and resentment had been cooking for some time, so when she decided to answer, there was little better than vitriol on her voice, “What do you want now?”

“Well at least you answered; that’s a good sign.” He replied, hobbling through the mountains as well as his damaged wing-arm could manage, “Where are you now?”

“I’m not interested, Furion.” She growled tiredly, “The only thing you should be worried about is answering Lord Rylen’s messages.”

“Lord Rylen’s been waiting all day already, he can wait a minute longer.” The Captain noted, “The important thing is that you haven’t made contact with Lugios yet, and Scyrexian is still under control.”

“Gods, fuck you, Furion.” Ren snapped, and pushed up to stand, “You know…all these years, we kept our relationship secret, because we knew we weren’t supposed to be together. I thought the worst thing that could happen was for Lord Rylen to find out, and force one or both of us off team. But then I got sent away anyway, and as it turns out, the worst thing to ever happen was coming back.”

Furion wasn’t sure how to answer to that.

“Do you have any idea how much it chafes to come back to the team, only to have to settle back into the idea that I’ll never be Captain so long as you’re around?” She continued, pacing bitterly atop that rooftop, “My first day seeing a Fafnir again after four months of being gone, and all Hell broke loose. Ianori got possessed, Seth got tortured, I got my fucking arm ripped off…and then I got to be reminded that my goals and aspirations are perpetually on hold because of you.”

“Ren, we had an agr-”

“To Hell with the agreement! We both know I’m the better Fafnir and yet I’m the one stuck in your shadow!”

“…That’s a grandiose self-assessment.”

“You’re no less than five generations into a super-soldier lineage, and yet you’re barely keeping up with me, Furion. The first day we met, I put you on the ground, and I hadn’t even been augmented yet!” Ren snarled, “And I’m somehow supposed to be content with the idea that, oh, well, if I wait long enough, Furion will finally pop the question and then make me the next Rydell Captain in that long and storied history. But when will that be? In five years? In ten? Will you be like your father and punch-out in your 50s? I could be waiting another 15 years for my chance!”

“What does any of that have to do with the immediate problem? You’ll never get your chance anyway if you can’t get rid of Scyrexian.”

“…I’ve already told Lord Rylen that I want to be evaluated for command.” Ren finally stated, heart racing.

“You know damn well you’re in no position to do that.”

“I am though, Captain, and Lord Rylen has agreed to let me try for it.” She said firmly, and slowed her breathing in an effort to calm her pulse, “When the Aegis comes back online and a new Fafnir squadron is assembled, it’ll be me wearing those pauldrons. If I can’t have Gabe right now, then I can at least have this. I’ll see you tomorrow morning, and if you’re fit for duty, and I’ll consider if I even want you on my mission.”

“Ren!”

The line was cut, and Ren looked out over Trazad with renewed purpose. The hot irons that were stuck inside her ignited a new flame, I’ll find a way back to you somehow, Gabe…I promise… It’s not over just because you’re getting a mantle…we can figure something out.

.

It was nearly sunset when Rylen finally woke-up again, and was inundated by the bombardment of messages and notifications he’d missed while asleep. He closed his eyes for a few moments longer, but then manifested himself just outside his own pod, and tiredly swiped-away all the banners, I’ll deal with them later… If anything truly needs my attention, the emergency system will be enough.

The room was quiet, except for the low, ambient hum of the SERAPHIM Engine…and the subtle tap of footsteps as the First approached it. The huge glass wall bisected the open-air section of the pod-area from the fluid-filled tomb that Syraph’s crystalized body had been contained in, and those wing-like glassy ‘growths’ had never ceased their expansive creep.

Rylen thought back on those first few years since the woman’s body had been interred in a standard stasis-pod, when they still had hope that her injuries could be fixed somehow and her life restored. While those years became decades, and hope dwindled until nothing remained but that doll-like form, the crystalline shards filled the pod nearly to bursting, and she was moved into something larger. Eventually, a stasis-pod for even the largest man was no longer suitable for that expansive cluster, and part of a room was set-up to hold her instead. Long before getting to that point, it had been noted that the frozen miasma gave off a kind of strange, radiative energy, and subsequent generations of holding-spaces were designed to allow room for their growth.

“It’s grotesque!” Rylen remembered protesting, “She’s my wife, not a battery!”

“We need something stable to supply the nanotech, and whatever this power is that she’s emitting, it reacts strongly with the energy systems we’ve already developed.” Arbelos argued; he was a fleshy, fully-grown man back then, plain-looking, and a far-cry from the child-like shape he’d chosen later, “I’ve run dozens of tests, and nothing works half as well as this… Please, sir, we can’t be choosers out here… We have to use everything…”

“It’s officially been 348 years since we crash-landed on this planet.” Rylen said, mostly to himself, as he approached the wall-like divider. He pressed his palms to the glass and lowered down to his knees, until he could press the top of his head to the clear paneling, “…And for most of them, you’ve been our God and Protector… Wholly unremembered by all save those closest to the Eidolon… Now, it seems almost taboo to mention you, and the incredible contribution you’ve made to this world…far more than any number of others, even combined. You, and the World Cloud you’ve enabled for us, have made everything else possible…”

[Xanarken Tellan is requesting to materialize at your location.]

Rylen’s eyes twitched slightly, and he pulled his hands off the glass to hold them in his lap instead. He responded in the affirmative, and the Fourth manifested a few paces away.

“…Oh, you’re still down here?” The Eidolon commented, and took half a step back, “I know the Dawn of Ages isn’t your favorite holiday, but…”

“Probably because there’s nothing holy about it.” Rylen answered, keeping his gaze down, and the top of his head pointed towards his proverbially-mummified wife, “My son nearly killed us all with the catastrophe…and then he actually tried to kill us all a few years later. Maybe the rest of Hadira feels the need to celebrate today because, in spite of it all, we survived…but every year that ticks by, I wonder what the point of it all is.”

“The point is what we make of it. Maybe it feels like one long, continuous Hell to us…but to the people who were born here? Spent their whole lives here? This is the point.” Xanarken offered, “To them, the Earth is just a legend. Would you even want to go back, if the option came to you?”

“…Go back?” Rylen echoed.

“Yeah, if a gate just opened in front of you, and stepping through it meant going back to Earth, right now. Would you go through it?”

“I…never thought about it. All hope of ever going home died with Caeros, and I haven’t seen much point in rehashing the idea since.” The First countered, and finally lifted back up to his feet again. He pressed his hand to the glass one more time before turning his back to the tank, and looked at the Fourth directly, “This isn’t the anniversary of Syraph’s passing though, so I imagine you didn’t seek me out for that.”

“You always mope for a little while on Dawn-Day, but…no, I figured you’d be done by now.” Xanarken answered, “The ship that the Duke is on started moving unexpectedly about an hour and a half ago. It’s getting ready to dock in Trazad now.”

“…Wasn’t the plan supposed to be that both ships dock at roughly the same time? The Prince won’t arrive at Oceanside for a while yet.”

“Yeah, but apparently the Emperor is allowing it.”

“What does it matter to us? We’re not even allowed to be there.”

Xanarken gave a coy look, “The Eidolon aren’t allowed to be there…but who’s going to bother with a couple stray cats?”

“You’re really that curious?”

“Do you have any other plans right now? It’s the Dawn. You’re either partying or you’re party-pooping.”

Rylen stared blankly, but then shook his head and sighed, “I guess not. Nothing will be happening until tomorrow morning anyway…”

“That’s the spirit. C’mon. I know the perfect spot.” The Fourth quickly dissolved, and a few seconds later, all-but dragged his cohort with him.

If a cat could smirk, the fuzzy Himalayan that Rylen spotted would be iconic for it, and it trotted-off sneakily along the base of a wall outside the Sargonian palace. Taking his usual Russian Blue form, Rylen sauntered after, tail low and eyes forward. They traced their path to the northern end of the grounds, until they found the stone and wrought-iron fencing that separated it from the public-access areas in front. It was easy for them to slip through, and continue onward until they finally arrived near the cliffside gardens…and the veranda where the transport-ship had been given clearance to touch-down.

Too small to dock at the ramps where the Aegis had once parked, the little Kitezan courier-skiff was greeted by a small platoon of Sargonian soldiers, as well as the Emperor himself. Rylen watched carefully from within the manicured bush they’d squeezed into, but from that distance, it all seemed rather trite and dull, “This is far less interesting than you made it seem.”

Xanarken had nothing to say in response; those black, tufted ears were pressed flat to the back of his feline head, eyes wide and fixed.

And the entire cliffside section of the palace abruptly detonated, sending out a shockwave so massive that it obliterated the two small mantles, knocked boulders loose from the cliff, and roughed-up the water 700ft down.

The western half of the palace was engulfed in flames, and every soul within 100ft was dead.