[Location: Research Center - Evocaier Academy – Morning – Year: 1092 Ad Felicitas]

Drifter stepped inside, the morning sun illuminating the white façade of the Research Center. The sliding doors parted, releasing a sharp antiseptic scent. A blue-lit elevator whisked him to the seventh floor.

In the main chamber, the Black Cube was clutched by a massive mechanical claw, bathed in a bluish glow. Researchers in white uniforms worked diligently around the room. His gaze fixed on a woman with raven-black hair.

Luna Sabriel stood at a console, her fingers dancing across the interface. She noticed Drifter’s reflection on the screen.

“Good morning, Luna. Any progress?” His voice was calm.

Luna turned briefly. “Not much... Its energy still doesn’t resonate with any known artifact. For now, nothing.”

“And you? Are you still hearing the whispers?” Luna asked, glancing at him.

Drifter stared at the Cube. “I haven’t heard them... since that day.”

Luna looked away for a moment. “I see... that’s good.”

Suddenly, a heavy sensation pressed against Drifter’s head, like an invisible weight. His vision blurred, oscillating between blinding brightness and shadowy darkness. Amid the chaos, faint distorted voices echoed, breaking apart like shattered whispers.

“Fi... ma... It... le...”

Drifter shuddered. “I hear it again. The whispers are back.”

Luna quickly approached. “We need to leave. Now.”

They exited the chamber. Outside, the cold morning air met the sunlight streaming across the horizon.

“It seems the whispers only return when you’re near the Cube,” Luna observed.

Drifter stood still. “Please continue, Luna. What else do you know about this Cube?”

Luna sighed. "It might be connected to other artifacts... from the era of the First Holy Emperor."

She activated her Lumina Core, projecting an image of an ancient inscription. The carving showed a long-haired man seated on a throne, with a large, glowing, cube-shaped artifact behind him.

"So... the mass enslavement from the past is tied to this Cube?" Drifter asked, his tone laced with curiosity and concern.

Luna nodded slightly. “It’s possible. According to the ancient Selvaria inscriptions, this artifact created their golden age—conquering the world, enslaving nations, uniting Vesteria. If not for the Celestial Sentinel, we might still be their slaves.”

“There’s no way the Holy Empire Selvaria would let this be known. Where did you get this information?”

Luna hesitated. “From Chimia. She’s the head of the expedition team tracing the Cube’s remnants, from ruins to legends.”

Drifter narrowed his gaze. “If that’s true... this artifact is too dangerous.”

After a brief silence, he spoke again. “I need clearance to approach Paxluma. Not to enter, just close enough.”

Luna’s expression hardened. “No. You know what happened there. I won’t risk it.”

“I just need to understand,” Drifter insisted.

Luna turned away, her voice heavy.

"You have no idea what you're asking. Paxluma... it's cursed—a lair of the Cataclysmaris."

"It’s been 700 years… can you really be sure the Cataclysmaris will stay dormant? Sitting idle gets us nowhere—it’s as good as giving up. Technology means nothing against the Abyssal Breach," Drifter argued, his tone steady but resolute.

Luna clenched the hem of her white coat, her breath heavy as her gaze dropped to the floor.

“While there’s still time, I will go there. Before it’s too late,” Drifter declared resolutely.

After a long pause, Luna finally replied, her voice soft. “I’ll speak to Grandmaster Lysander. But I can’t promise anything.”

Drifter nodded. “Thank you.”

Luna remained silent, staring at the horizon as the sun continued to rise, its light casting a cold glow over the morning.

[Location: Verm Evocaier Academy – Drifter’s Room – Night]

Drifter sat on a black sofa, the soft melody of a piano drifting from the Magisterial Console before him. The melancholic notes filled the air, echoing a faint sadness. His fingers reached into his pocket, pulling out the Elysian Wardstone, a pulsating blue stone emitting a faint glow.

He traced the stone’s edges with his fingers, in sync with the melody, though his thoughts wandered far beyond the room. His gaze was vacant, his breaths deep and deliberate, as if suppressing unspoken burdens.

The Lumina Core on his wrist lit up, and a soft voice filled the room, forming a projection of Luna Sabriel.

“Drifter? It’s late. What’s wrong?” Luna asked, her brow slightly raised.

“Sorry to bother you. I just wanted to know… has the Grandmaster decided about Paxluma?” His voice was calm but carried an undercurrent of tension.

Luna’s expression shifted briefly before she replied.

“They’re still deliberating. You know the risks. Paxluma… it’s not an easy decision.”

Drifter nodded slowly. “I understand. Thank you for asking. I truly appreciate it.”

A silence hung between them as the night breeze whispered softly through the window. Luna stared for a moment before speaking again.

“You need rest, Drifter. All of this… it’s too much for you. Don’t let it consume you.”

Drifter gave a faint smile. “I’ll try. Good night, Luna.”

Luna’s projection faded, leaving the room in darkness once more. He rose and walked to the window. Outside, the shadows of old trees swayed in the courtyard. Far on the horizon lay the silhouette of Paxluma, hidden and holding the secrets he sought.

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For three nights, Drifter had tried contacting Luna Sabriel, but each call ended with no definitive answer, deepening his frustration. He realized he could no longer wait for others’ decisions. He knew what he had to do.

He strode through the dim corridors of Verm Evocaier Academy, his steps steady as his shadow blended with the walls. The cold night air brushed against his skin as he made his way to the underground garage.

In the garage, his Alcherider Zenith stood tall, its sleek black metal frame reflecting the overhead lights. He approached the vehicle, placing his hand on its control panel. The engine hummed softly to life, its sharp triangular headlights illuminating the space with a white glow. Climbing into the driver’s seat, Drifter maneuvered the Zenith toward the exit.

As the vehicle ascended to street level, a sudden white flash appeared to his right. Instinctively, he hit the brakes, the screech of metal echoing as the Zenith came to a halt.

In front of him stood another Alcherider, Ferocia, its sleek teal frame radiating an aura of sharp precision. The narrow, horizontal headlights glowed faintly, resembling watchful eyes. Its aerodynamic design featured a distinct "W"-shaped contour on the hood, blending elegance with a menacing presence.

Drifter powered down the Zenith. From Ferocia’s cockpit, Luna Sabriel emerged, moving with calm determination. The black-and-white veils of her gothic dress billowed in the breeze, reflecting the garage’s light.

"What are you doing, Luna? Are you here to stop me?" Drifter asked, his gaze steady.

Luna met his eyes, her voice calm but resolute. "No. If you’re going, I’m coming with you. It’s too dangerous to face this alone."

Before Drifter could respond, another figure emerged from the shadows behind Ferocia—Alina Walsh, her arms crossed, her gaze sharp yet casual.

“Tsk… We’re not letting you go alone,” Alina said bluntly.

Drifter looked at the two of them, seeing Luna’s resolve and Alina’s determination. He nodded slowly.

“Thank you.”

Luna offered a faint smile before stepping back toward Ferocia.

“Don’t get too emotional,” she teased lightly. “We still have to get past the guards.”

Alina gave her a skeptical glance.

“Are you sure about this, Luna? This isn’t like you.”

Luna paused, her expression softening.

“Sometimes, Alina, we have to take risks. Don’t worry. We’ll return before anyone notices.”

The silence hung heavy for a moment before Alina sighed, her shoulders relaxing. A wry smile crept across her face. “Alright. Let’s do this.”

They returned to their respective vehicles. The hum of antigravity engines filled the air as Ferocia led the way, with Zenith following close behind. Their shadows stretched long into the night. No words were exchanged, but their shared goal was clear—the Frontier Outpost, the final gate before the darkness awaiting them.

Their vehicles came to a gradual stop at the outpost’s parking area. Drifter, Luna Sabriel, and Alina Walsh stepped out of their Alcheriders, moving with purpose. Before them loomed the massive iron gates of the Frontier Outpost, standing tall against the unknown.

In front of the gate, two guards stood alert. One of them, a burly man with a long scar across his jaw, stepped forward.

"Security check. Raise your hands," he commanded firmly.

The three complied, raising their wrists to display their Lumina Core. Small holograms projected above each device, revealing their identities—names, photos, and the glowing Vytros Seal, proof of their authority.

The guard scanned them meticulously, nodding slightly after a moment.

"What is your purpose here?" he asked.

Alina Walsh stepped forward, her voice calm but urgent.

"Routine inspection for the novices. We need to ensure they can manage the stress of being this close to Area Zero."

The older guard exchanged a glance with his partner. After a brief pause, he stepped back and nodded.

"Proceed."

Alina nodded politely. "Thank you."

As they entered, Alina paused beneath a small archway and activated her Lumina Core. A soft blue glow illuminated a holographic map, revealing the intricate pathways of the Vestra System, depicted as glowing blue hexagons, and the radiant Mistral Quartz Orbs, represented as shimmering blue circles. Her finger traced the display before pointing to a small, marked spot.

"Here. A blind spot. They’re usually lax there, but stay sharp," she said.

Luna Sabriel gave a small nod, studying the map intently.

"We’ll be back," she murmured softly.

Drifter stepped forward, standing beneath the slowly fading hologram.

"Thank you," he said briefly, his tone sincere.

Alina glanced at the two of them, her lips curving into a faint, bittersweet smile.

"Just promise me you’ll both come back. Drifter, look out for her."

Drifter gave a firm nod. "I will."

Luna’s expression shifted, a small, irritated smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

"I don’t need anyone looking out for me, Alina."

Alina moved toward the patrolling guards, striking up a conversation. Her tone was light but engaging enough to draw their attention. The guards glanced at her, their focus shifting entirely to the discussion.

Meanwhile, Drifter and Luna Sabriel moved to the edge of a small balcony. Drifter took Luna’s hand, their eyes meeting briefly. Their bodies began to glow faintly, shimmering as blue particles of light drifted from their skin. In an instant, they vanished.

They reappeared outside the guards’ surveillance range, their breaths catching momentarily. Luna activated her Lumina Core, the holographic map reappearing to guide them. Occasionally, they glanced at it, ensuring they stayed on course.

Their movements were precise, every step deliberate, like a dance on a razor’s edge. Their eyes were sharp, catching even the faintest noise as they pressed forward. Only silence and the rhythm of their steady breathing accompanied them, the path ahead resembling veins leading to their destination.

The barren ground stretched before them, and the air grew heavy, pressing on their chests. Their steps slowed as their feet struck the cold, hard soil. The silence around them was thick, charged with an unfamiliar energy. Their breaths grew labored, as if resisting an unseen force.

Their Lumina Core displayed the time—1:07 AM. They stopped beneath a twisted old tree. Drifter used telekinesis to lift some branches aside. Luna tossed a small red orb into the pile. With a flicker, a campfire ignited, its warm glow casting light over their surroundings.

They set up their respective tents, each equipped with a simple bedroll and a chair around the fire. Drifter sat silently, his gaze fixed on the small flames, lost in thought. Across from him, Luna sat on the ground, rummaging through a small bag for rations among her tools.

A soft rustle broke the quiet. A worn photograph slipped out of Luna’s bag and fell to the ground. Without a word, she rose and walked into her tent. Drifter leaned forward, carefully picking up the photograph. His fingers brushed against it gently, as though handling something fragile and precious.

"Sorry, is this yours?" Drifter asked quietly, his voice low.

Luna Sabriel froze for a moment, her gaze fixed on the photograph. She reached out slowly, her fingers gently tracing its edges. "Thank you," she murmured softly.

Drifter had caught a glimpse of the picture—a young girl with dark hair smiling beside an older man with black hair streaked with gray. The man’s face was etched with lines of wisdom. Saying nothing, Drifter turned his attention back to the small fire in front of him.

Silence hung between them, heavy and unspoken.

Finally, Drifter broke the stillness, his voice gentle. "Your family?"

Luna’s gaze lingered on the photo. "He… was my grandfather," she said quietly. "He’s gone now, along with my parents."

Her eyes softened, filled with distant memories. Drifter nodded slightly. "I’m sorry," he said simply.

The small fire crackled, its light casting shifting shadows across their faces.

After a moment, Luna turned to Drifter. "What about you? Did you have a family… before all this?"

Drifter stiffened, his jaw tightening. His gaze shifted from Luna to the fire. "I did," he murmured. "Back in Paxluma. My family… they were part of the Mage Association. My parents, friends, everyone. They’re all gone. The Cataclysmaris took everything."

He fell silent, his words lingering in the air. Luna listened without interrupting.

After a moment, she spoke softly. "I think… I understand how that feels."

Drifter turned, meeting Luna’s eyes. In them, he saw a shared pain, a deep understanding. No more words were exchanged.

Luna shifted her gaze back to the fire.

"Before all of this… what did you do before joining the Evocaier Order?"

Drifter inhaled deeply.

"I was just a regular mage in the Mage Association. Studying magic, taking on small missions… my life was peaceful. But after the Cataclysmaris appeared, I abandoned it all. I trained with the Arcane Saber relentlessly. It’s all that’s left."

He looked at Luna. "And you? Why did you join the Evocaier Order?"

Luna shrugged slightly. "Nothing special. My teacher is Grandmaster Lysander, so I just followed in his footsteps."

Drifter allowed a small smile. "You know, I snore really loudly. Sorry in advance… hope you can handle it."

Luna blinked, surprised, before a faint smile crept across her lips. "I’ll manage."

Drifter chuckled softly. The air between them lightened, the tension fading. The small fire continued to crackle, its warmth accompanying the long night.

Eventually, they retreated to their tents, lying down for the night. The fire dimmed into glowing embers. The world remained dark and silent, offering a rare sense of peace in the heart of Area Zero.