[Verm Plain - 4th Vespera, Year 1092 Ad Felicitas - Midday]

Sunlight bathed the plains in a warmth that almost mocked his confusion. Drifter stood still, his eyes locked on the vast landscape stretching before him, a sharp contrast to the destruction he had left behind. Paxluma was gone, reduced to dust. The city, its people—everything was gone. Now, here he stood, in a land that felt entirely alien. A gentle breeze caressed his hair, carrying the scent of earth and grass. He closed his eyes briefly, feeling the sun's warmth on his face, but it only deepened his bewilderment. This world felt so real, as if everything around him was challenging his very existence.

The Black Cube rested in his hand, its surface cold yet pulsing with an eerie energy that felt oppressive. He had no answers—only more questions.

"What happened? Where am I?" Drifter muttered, his voice rough and shaky, as if he'd forgotten how to speak.

Suddenly, a sharp, authoritative voice broke the silence, snapping him back to reality.

"Don't move!"

Drifter felt his heart pound as adrenaline surged through him. His eyes snapped open to find a figure standing before him, radiating an aura of power and composure.

It was Luna Sabriel—her long black hair flowing with perfect symmetry, a neat side fringe framing her porcelain-white face. A beauty mark below her lip added to her ethereal appearance, while her pale blue eyes, cold as snow, bore into him. She was dressed in a gothic gown of dark fabric, a black corset and skirt exuding elegance and mystery. A single black rose was tucked in her hair, adding a melancholic grace. Her gaze fixed on Drifter with a piercing intensity, freezing the air around them.

image [https://i.ibb.co.com/MVbfKBR/01-21.jpg]

Instinctively, Drifter stepped back slightly, clutching the Black Cube tighter. Though Luna Sabriel made no overtly threatening moves, something in her presence—something in the energy she radiated—made him feel uneasy, as if danger was mere moments away.

"I mean no harm," Drifter stammered, his voice unsteady. "I’m with the Evocaier Order. We were on a mission to reclaim Paxluma—"

At the mention of Paxluma, Luna Sabriel's expression shifted. Her eyes narrowed, her posture stiffened, and every muscle in her body seemed to tense. She seemed to grow taller, her presence pressing down on him like a weight. Her response came in a flat, resolute voice.

"The mission you speak of... that was seven hundred years ago."

The words hit Drifter like a blow to the gut. He staggered, his mind racing to process what he’d just heard. He blinked rapidly, trying to comprehend.

"That’s... that’s impossible. Seven hundred years? No. That can’t be."

Luna Sabriel’s icy gaze held him in place. Her tone was unwavering, leaving no room for doubt.

"You heard me. Seven hundred years. Now explain—where did you get that?"

Her focus shifted to the Black Cube in his hand. A fleeting glimmer of recognition flickered in her eyes, and Drifter felt a chill crawl up his spine. Her hand moved slightly, sigils glowing faintly at her fingertips as though she was preparing for something.

Drifter glanced at the Black Cube, then back at Luna Sabriel, uncertainty etched into his face.

"I found it during the battle... just before everything went dark. It reacted to something, I..."*

His words faltered under Luna Sabriel's unblinking stare. There was something ancient in her gaze, something unsettling.

She pressed her lips into a thin line, her hand twitching again, but she held herself back.

"That object is dangerous," she said, her voice steady but interrupted by another—a calm yet commanding voice that cut through the tension in the air.

"Luna, report."

Drifter turned toward the sound of approaching footsteps. Two figures emerged from the tall grass, their movements deliberate and precise.

The first was Friedrich Rosenthal. His golden blond hair was slicked back neatly, and his piercing blue eyes scanned the scene with the discipline of a seasoned commander. His silver armor gleamed under the sun, a fur-lined cloak draped over his shoulders like a shadow of authority. His presence radiated control, strength, and command.

Beside him was Alma Rosenthal, a stark contrast to her father. Her soft pink hair cascaded in waves, tied loosely to one side with a playful ribbon. Her wide, curious pink eyes immediately focused on the Lumina Core strapped to Drifter's wrist, as if it were the only thing in the world that mattered. Her delicate attire seemed out of place in the charged atmosphere, yet every step she took carried quiet confidence.

image [https://i.ibb.co.com/q0BLVZL/01-8.jpg]

Friedrich Rosenthal’s gaze remained locked on Drifter, unreadable and steady, while Alma Rosenthal moved closer, her excitement evident.

Luna Sabriel turned to Friedrich, her expression a mixture of disbelief and uncertainty.

"This man... he claims to have crossed time, from the past."

Her voice held an edge of astonishment, as if even she couldn’t believe what she was saying.

Friedrich Rosenthal remained calm, though his voice carried a sharpness.

"Crossed time? That’s impossible."

Drifter opened his mouth to respond, but before he could speak, Alma Rosenthal stepped forward. Her pink eyes sparkled with curiosity as she stared intently at the Lumina Core on his wrist.

"Dad, look! That’s such an old model of the Lumina Core!"

Her tone was light, almost incredulous, as she leaned closer to inspect it, her earlier composure replaced by uncontained curiosity.

Alma Rosenthal turned to her father, her gaze brimming with conviction.

"What if he really is from the past?"

Drifter felt his body stiffen, a chill settling in his gut as anxiety coursed through him. The excitement radiating from Alma Rosenthal only made the situation feel more surreal and uncertain. The Lumina Core on his wrist—rough and bulky—was a stark contrast to the sleek, modern designs worn by the others.

Before the tension could deepen, a low rumble shattered the silence, and the air around them turned cold. The grass swayed, and suddenly, the ground trembled under the weight of something heavy. Drifter’s eyes widened as sleek, segmented forms emerged from the earth, their sharp legs glinting like blades.

Razorpedes.

The creatures moved with terrifying precision, their bodies undulating like waves as they burrowed into the ground, venomous stingers raised high. The brown Geo Evocyte embedded within them pulsed visibly, its energy glinting like muted lightning.

Overhead, the piercing cries of Windchaser Hawks echoed as they circled in formation, talons gleaming, wings slicing through the air with predator-like force.

Then, a massive shadow loomed, dark and menacing.

Plains Harbinger.

Its towering form emerged from the mist, its winged silhouette casting an ominous presence across the land. Iridescent feathers shimmered under the sunlight, and its glowing blue eyes locked onto the group with an intensity that made the ground beneath them quake. Its claws raked the earth, carving deep gouges as it advanced with unmatched power.

Friedrich remained calm, but his voice carried urgency and command as he raised his shield.

"Luna, Alma—positions! Prepare for combat!"

Luna, the ice sorceress, was already moving. Her hands conjured glowing blue sigils that pulsed with magical energy. As she stepped forward, her arms raised, commanding the winds to obey her will. Around her, sigils materialized, and from them emerged sharp, crystalline spears of ice, glinting like shards of glass. With a swift flick of her wrist, the spears launched into the air, striking the circling Windchaser Hawks with deadly precision.

"I’ll handle the skies."

Friedrich shifted his stance, lifting his glowing shield. His voice was firm and authoritative, echoing over the chaos.

"Alma, focus on the Razorpedes! Luna and I will take care of the ones above."

Blinding light surged from Friedrich’s hand, beams of radiant energy shooting skyward and colliding with Luna’s ice spears in dazzling explosions. The last Windchaser Hawk fell, its body disintegrating into mist and snow before hitting the ground.

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A small smile crossed Alma’s face as her hands glowed with spinning pink and red sigils. Without hesitation, she extended her palm, sending a fireball hurtling toward the Razorpedes, engulfing them in brilliant flames.

"Got it, Dad… Fireball!"

Drifter’s heart pounded, but his thoughts cleared. Friedrich, Luna, and Alma were already in action. His body shifted into a combat stance instinctively, his muscles moving on their own.

He would protect them.

They might be strangers, and this world might feel alien to him—but this? This was familiar. As a member of the Evocaier Order, he had sworn to safeguard peace. No matter the cost.

With swift precision, Drifter summoned his sword, Exaltare, a dark gray blade crackling with power. It gleamed with blue energy, its edge glowing with purpose. For a moment, his confusion was replaced by a singular focus on battle.

As he stepped forward, a dozen glowing blue swords materialized around him, each one radiating lethal intent. They spun with blinding speed, striking the Razorpedes with unerring accuracy. One by one, their segmented bodies shattered into fragments.

Then, a deafening screech tore through the air—a low, guttural sound that sent shivers through the battlefield, filling the atmosphere with foreboding.

The Plains Harbinger descended, its massive wings sending up clouds of dust and debris. The ground quaked beneath its weight.

Alma’s voice was tight with fear as she shouted,

"Watch out! Harbinger!"

The creature’s massive wings unfurled, whipping up fierce winds that scattered debris into the air. It dove with terrifying speed, its claws ripping through the earth with bone-shaking force.

But Friedrich was ready. He raised Lexivane, his glowing shield, high.

"Guardian’s Ward!"

A massive radiant barrier erupted in a flash, fully absorbing the Harbinger’s assault. Sparks exploded as the creature slammed into the shield, shaking the ground. Friedrich stood firm, his muscles taut under the immense pressure. As the barrier faded, a wave of healing energy rippled out, revitalizing his allies.

Luna, wasting no time, summoned another sigil of frost, her voice sharp and commanding.

"Frost Nova!"

The ground beneath the Harbinger’s feet erupted into jagged spikes of ice, freezing its front limbs in place. The frost spread rapidly, slowing the creature’s movements and forcing it to roar in frustration. Its claws scratched at the ice, but it couldn’t break free.

Drifter vanished in an instant, reappearing behind the massive creature. His sword shimmered as he unleashed Exalt Edge, a sweeping arc of light that tore through the Harbinger’s body. The beast staggered, its agonized shriek echoing across the battlefield. Its glowing blue eyes burned with fury and pain.

Alma, her eyes wide, followed Drifter’s movements, her breath shallow—a mix of awe and disbelief.

"How can he move like that?"

Luna, standing composed and calm, focused on the battle, blue sigils spinning around her hands.

"Don’t let it recover."

With a flick of her wrist, sharp ice crystals encased the Harbinger, forming a prison of jagged frost. The creature thrashed violently, roaring its rage as the ice spread over its body, but the frozen cage held firm.

Drifter disappeared again, reappearing in front of the trapped Harbinger. With a flash of Exalt Shift, a storm of glowing swords swirled around him, each blade radiating deadly precision. The barrage of attacks ripped through the beast’s defenses, shattering its flesh and magic alike. Energy crackled in the air, leaving ghostly trails behind the relentless strikes. With one final, explosive blow, the Harbinger collapsed, its massive body crashing into the earth and shaking the battlefield.

As the dust began to settle, the remaining Razorpedes fled into the shadows, their threat vanishing.

Alma, breathing heavily, lowered her hands. Her voice was almost a whisper as the battle’s tension ebbed.

"Finally…"

Her gaze shifted to Drifter, a mix of disbelief and admiration on her face. Her voice trembled, more to herself than anyone else.

"You… you fight like you’ve done this a thousand times."

Drifter dismissed his sword, letting it dissipate into a fine mist. His voice was quiet, yet heavy with something far older than the moment.

"Maybe… maybe I have."

Friedrich stepped forward, his shining silver armor reflecting the rays of the setting sun. His steady blue eyes scanned the group, his presence radiating authority and calm. His golden hair gleamed as his glowing shield, Lexivane, dimmed and faded into silence. The dust around them settled, thick and heavy in the newfound stillness. His fur-lined cape hung still behind him.

"You all fought well."

His voice was firm yet warm as he placed a reassuring hand on Alma’s shoulder. He glanced briefly at the others before speaking again.

"Good work, Alma."

Luna Sabriel stood at the edge of the group, her arms crossed tightly. The black rose in her hair swayed slightly, the lace of her dark gown fluttering in the breeze. Yet her sharp blue eyes remained fixed on Drifter. Occasionally, her gaze flickered to the Black Cube in his hand, watching its faint pulse with a cold, calculating expression.

"Thank you, but don’t think we trust you."

Her icy stare locked onto Drifter, unwavering.

"We still need answers."

Without waiting for a reply, Luna turned on her heel, her black veil trailing behind her, the hem of her gown brushing the dusty ground as she walked away.

The Black Cube throbbed faintly in Drifter’s hand, its pulse matching the black veins etched into his dark armor. He gripped it tighter, his expression neutral, though the tension in his body betrayed the weight he carried.

"You’re right."

Drifter’s voice was low and firm, with an undertone of something deeper—a spark of resolve buried beneath his words.

Friedrich stepped closer, his silver armor creaking softly as he extended a hand. The golden light on his hair softened his chiseled features, but his presence remained steadfast, immovable.

"Your fighting style is unique. Rare, even among seasoned Evocaier veterans."

There was curiosity—and perhaps a quiet admiration—in his voice as the glow of Lexivane faded into the air.

"Friedrich Rosenthal."

Drifter hesitated for a moment, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face, but he eventually took Friedrich’s hand. His grip was strong but cautious.

"Drifter. Glad I could help."

A faint smile tugged at Friedrich’s lips, though it quickly disappeared, overtaken by the gravity of their situation.

Alma stepped forward, her pastel pink dress swaying in the breeze. Her bright pink hair framed her gentle features, and her soft pink eyes sparkled with gratitude. Nervously, she fidgeted with her sleeve, but her gaze was warm and genuine.

"I’m Alma."

Her voice was soft and sincere, full of unspoken thanks.

"Thank you… for fighting with us."

Drifter glanced at Luna, her sharp eyes still fixed on him, her arms folded tightly. Her gaze darted between him and the Black Cube, its faint pulsing reflected in her cold demeanor.

"Luna Sabriel," Drifter said cautiously. "You said you’re part of the Evocaier Order… and that you were involved in the Paxluma Operation?"

Luna narrowed her eyes, tilting her head slightly as she studied him with a piercing gaze.

"And now you show up here, seven hundred years later?"

Drifter stared into the distance, his expression clouded as though burdened by memories too heavy to bear. A sharp breath escaped his lips, each word laden with unspoken weight.

"I was under the First Grandmaster’s command. We went to seal the Abyssal Breach in Paxluma," he began, his words faltering as if searching for the right way to continue. His grip on the Black Cube tightened, as though it was the only tether he had.

"But…" his voice dropped, barely audible. Luna could see the depth of his turmoil.

"When I found this, I was consumed by darkness. When I woke up, I was here."

He gestured toward the distant horizon, his movements filled with hesitation.

"Seven centuries later."

Luna stared at him intently, her expression a mix of curiosity and deep skepticism.

"Where did you find it?"

Drifter lowered his head, pausing for a moment of reflection before continuing, his voice quieter this time.

"We fought a Cataclysmaris... one unlike anything we’d faced before. When it fell, this... thing emerged from its remains."

A thick silence hung in the air. Alma’s eyes widened in awe and disbelief, while Luna’s sharp gaze grew even more skeptical, focusing entirely on Drifter. Friedrich, typically unreadable, finally broke the silence, his voice measured and heavy with meaning.

Drifter turned to Friedrich, his expression uncertain.

"What happened to the operation? What about the First Grandmaster?"

Friedrich exchanged a brief glance with Luna, then sighed, his voice heavy with finality.

"The operation failed."

The words lingered, pressing down like a weight. Drifter asked, his voice breaking with disbelief,

"No one returned?"

Luna answered in a flat, almost hollow tone, her gaze flicking briefly to the Black Cube.

"No one knows what truly happened that day."

She took a deep breath, as if steadying herself.

"The Abyssal Breach remains open, but the Cataclysmaris never attacked again."

Drifter stared at the Black Cube in his hand. The faint, pulsing energy within felt heavier now, more oppressive. His brow furrowed, worry etched across his face.

"This thing… it feels like no one knows anything about it."

Alma’s soft pink eyes met Drifter’s, her voice gentle yet firm, laced with hope.

"You don’t have to face this alone."

She stepped closer, her gaze steady and reassuring.

"Come with us to the Verm Evocaier Academy. We can help you, right, Luna?"

Luna remained at a distance, her arms folded tightly, her expression calculating and cold. The black rose in her hair swayed gently in the breeze as she spoke sharply.

"We’ll return to the academy. That artifact—"

She nodded toward the Black Cube.

"—could be dangerous. If you come with us, you might find the answers you’re looking for."

Friedrich, ever steady, stepped forward, his voice measured and reassuring. His calm yet unyielding presence filled the space between them.

"We have experience with artifacts like this. Let us help you understand it."

Drifter hesitated, his gaze shifting between the group before finally settling on Alma’s hopeful expression. Her gentle smile pierced through his uncertainty, grounding him. Slowly, he nodded, securing the Black Cube with deliberate care.

"Alright."

Drifter’s voice was firm now, his resolve clear.

"I’ll come."

Alma beamed, her smile lighting up the moment.

"Let’s head back. Welcome to the team, Drifter."

Without a word, Luna turned sharply, her black and white veil flowing behind her as she strode forward.

"What are we waiting for? Let’s move."

The group began their journey, their steps sure but the unspoken tension lingering. The weight of the Black Cube and the questions it carried hung heavy in the air, as the uncertain horizon stretched before them—unpredictable yet filled with purpose.