[Location: Nethia Hospital – Nethia City – Morning – Year 1092 Ad Felicitas]

Slowly, Drifter opened his eyes. His vision blurred momentarily before he recognized the figure before him—Jaxon with his signature black sunglasses and cowboy hat.

"Hey... thank goodness you're awake, Drifter," Jaxon said, a brief flicker of relief passing through his expression.

Drifter tensed, a sharp jolt of pain rooting him in place. His gaze snapped to Jaxon, wide and searching, questions flickering in his eyes.

"How are the others? Are they okay?"

Jaxon fell silent for a moment, glancing down before he spoke, his voice softer than usual.

"Well... the important thing is you’re awake. Get some rest, Drifter. We’ll deal with the rest later."

Drifter’s eyes flickered to the side, his lips tightening as he drew a slow, unsteady breath.

"I understand..." he murmured softly.

The door creaked open, and Drifter turned to see Friedrich Rosenthal, worry etched in his eyes. Behind him, heavy boots announced Grandmaster Ragnar Ashmane.

Drifter shifted, a sharp jolt of pain twisting his face, but he gritted his teeth and pushed himself upright.

"Grandmaster... I didn't expect you to come."

Ragnar stood tall, arms crossed, his steady voice carrying a quiet, unyielding authority.

"I want to hear directly from you, Drifter. What really happened?"

Friedrich gave a slight nod, his tone soft, patience evident in his steady gaze.

"Take your time. We need everything you know."

Drifter paused, his lips parting slowly as he spoke in a hushed tone.

"There were two of them. One was young, very fast, with silver hair—probably a lightning-element Rune Arbitter. The other was older, wielding fire magic. He had dual tonfa swords, wore a neat suit, a fedora, and an eye patch."

"He... the one with the eye patch... he's the one who defeated me," Drifter murmured, his gaze fixed on the floor, his voice barely above a whisper.

"His combat experience is exceptional... I think he’s fought against a lot of arcane sabers before..."

Friedrich's brow knit, his jaw tensing as his gaze turned cold.

"Leif Morbane."

"Leif?" Drifter glanced at Friedrich, furrowing his brow, but Ragnar spoke up before he could ask.

"A mercenary, a paid combat Evocaier. His involvement suggests there's a well-funded party behind this operation," Ragnar explained, his voice serious.

Friedrich exhaled deeply, his tone thoughtful and heavy with consideration.

"He’s got a solid reputation in the mercenary world. I’ve even heard he was the best. And their attack wasn’t random—they struck exactly when the academy and city barriers were down for scheduled maintenance. If we hadn’t raised Condition II, we would’ve been wiped out completely. It’s too perfect to be a coincidence."

Drifter's eyes widened, his shoulders tensing.

"So they knew the maintance schedule?" he asked in a low voice, almost a whisper.

Friedrich gave a brief nod, his eyes narrowing, his voice steady but heavy.

"They not only knew. They knew exactly—location of the hangar, generator, every vital point of ours."

He paused, taking a deep breath before continuing, his voice heavier.

"Our defense fleet was destroyed so quickly. "It was most likely their stealth fleet that launched the initial bombardment... the enemy’s stealth fleet, undetected by the Vestra system."

The hangar, along with our remaining golems and skyships, was also destroyed. It was all done by their stealth automatons..."

He paused again, his gaze distant. A slow blink, a sharp inhale—then his voice cut through, steady and resolute.

"If it hadn’t been for Vilreth Team holding the line at the generator... we might not be standing here right now."

Ragnar’s fists clenched, his voice thick with menace.

"This wasn’t random. Someone betrayed us—someone who knows our defenses, our weaknesses. Someone working with them."

Ragnar’s silver eyes narrowed, locking onto Friedrich.

"That mission to rescue Lyriel Amelioris, the automaton on the skyship... the reports came back identical, didn’t they?"

Friedrich’s face stiffened, his gaze sharp as ice. His voice cut through the silence, cold and deliberate.

"Yes, Grandmaster, without a doubt. Their automatons... are the same. No question."

Friedrich exhaled sharply,

"Let’s hope there’s something in the wreckage of that skyship—anything that can give us a lead."

Drifter stiffened, his eyes widening.

"Did we at least manage to bring it down?"

Friedrich shook his head, frustration flickering in his eyes as his jaw tightened.

"Yeah, we did. But it was just a decoy. The design and structure made it clear—it was a transport-class ship, probably loaded with automaton troops. The whole thing was likely controlled remotely through a command nexus."

Ragnar turned toward the door, the faint clinking of his armor marking each step.

"I’ll bring Amisha in on this. She’s the best we have when it comes to tracking contractors. And I’ll get the Aether Nexus Intelligence Division on high alert."

He stopped at the doorway, casting a quick glance back at Drifter.

"Your only job right now is to rest and recover."

Friedrich stepped closer, placing a steady hand on Drifter’s shoulder. His voice softened, warm but firm.

"You did more than you realize. If you hadn’t pushed us to activate Condition II... we might not be having this conversation. Rest up, Drifter. You’ve earned it."

Friedrich left, and after a brief moment, soft footsteps echoed through the room. Alma Rosenthal entered, her eyes wide with worry. Behind her, Vellya moved quietly, and Nadia Fernleaf's gaze remained fixed on the floor, troubled.

"How are you feeling, Drifter? I’m so glad you’re awake." Her voice trembled

Drifter forced a smile, but his eyes remained distant.

"You’re all worrying too much. I’m fine, really. Thank you."

Alma crossed her arms, her gaze sharp.

"Don’t try to fool me... Even before the battle, we were worried. When you saw that Cube... it was like you disappeared."

Behind her, Nadia stood quiet, her gaze on the floor, hands trembling.

"She’s right, Drifter... We were scared. But... I’m just glad you’re safe now." Her voice barely above a whisper.

Vellya climbed onto the bed, her legs kicking gently. She smiled brightly, but her eyes flickered with uncertainty, the worry hidden just beneath her cheerful mask.

"Big brother, get better soon, okay? Mama and Papa said to tell you hello and send hugs!"

Drifter nodded slowly, his gaze shifting between the three girls.

"Thank you, Alma, Nadia, Vellya. You’re... too good to me."

Suddenly, Heavy footsteps echoed, followed by a booming voice. Lorcan Grindelwald entered, grinning widely, but his eyes flickered with concern beneath the bravado.

"Ha! I knew you wouldn’t stay down for long, old man. You’re tougher than that!"

Beside him, Sloane Gast stood with his usual playful smirk.

"Oh, by the way, word is Luna cried herself to sleep every night while you were out. Just thought you’d like to know."

Alma couldn’t help but chuckle, and Lorcan’s booming laughter quickly followed.

Drifter let out a tired sigh, shaking his head as a small smile tugged at his lips.

"You two are unbelievable."

To Lorcan's left, Reine Lindt stood still, his gaze downcast, voice barely a murmur.

"We’re just... so glad you’re okay," he said, his tone heavy with emotion.

The sound of more footsteps echoed down the hallway as Caelus, Alyssa, Bryan, and Erick entered together.

Lorcan rolled his eyes, his voice loud with exaggerated annoyance.

"Oi! No more crowding the place! Old man needs some peace and quiet, you know!"

Caelus crossed his arms, his sharp gaze to Lorcan.

"Your voice is louder than all of us combined, Lorcan. We could hear you from the hospital entrance."

Alyssa smiled faintly.

"Drifter, I didn’t think I’d ever see you like this. Please get well soon, okay?"

Bryan nodded, his voice calm.

"Yeah, Drifter. I can’t imagine what kind of enemy could take you down. They must’ve been tough. Just focus on getting better, alright?"

Erick spoke next, his tone respectful.

"Thank you for everything you’ve done for us, sir. You’ve carried us through so much. Please, take the time to rest and recover."

Drifter glanced at each of them, his tired eyes softening with gratitude.

"Thank you... all of you. It means a lot."

The tension in the room began to ease, but before it could fully settle, another group appeared at the door. Vaeloria, Mia, and Lily entered, their faces reflecting a mix of emotions.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Lorcan sighed loudly, dragging a hand down his face.

"Oh great, the freeloader crew is here. Try not to make too much noise, alright?"

Vaeloria offered a faint smile, her eyes glossed over, lips trembling slightly.

"Get well soon, Drifter. You’re in our prayers."

Drifter nodded slowly, his voice soft but full of sincerity.

"Thank you, Ria, Lily, Mia."

He glanced briefly at Vaeloria, his thoughts wandering as his hand clenched beneath the blanket.

"She’s usually so cheerful... This attack must have hit her hard," he murmured under his breath.

Lorcan smirked and leaned in slightly.

"Hey, Ria. Since when do you pray?"

Mia rolled her eyes, waving him off dismissively.

"Lorcan, could you just not for once?"

Lily nodded quickly, crossing her arms.

"Yeah, seriously. Give it a rest, Lorcan."

Vaeloria shot Lorcan a blank stare, her tone calm but cutting.

"Ignore him, Mia. He’s just... being Lorcan."

She turned back to Drifter, her voice barely audible.

"Take care of yourself, Drifter. I hope you recover soon."

Without another word, she stepped back, her nearly silent footsteps fading as she moved away.

Caelus approached Lorcan, resting a hand on his shoulder and speaking in a low, measured tone.

"We’ll head out too, Drifter. Take care of yourself."

Alyssa gave a faint smile, her warmth dimmed slightly by fatigue.

"Yes, Drifter. We’re wishing you a full recovery. Take care."

Alma looked at Drifter for a moment, her eyes full of care. She knew their time was limited.

"Well, we don’t want to bother you too long... Make sure to rest plenty, okay?" Her voice was soft, but there was a hint of reluctance to leave.

Lorcan scratched the back of his head, trying to mask his unease with a casual tone.

"Take care, old man. We’ll get going now," he said lightly before stepping out with Alma.

One by one, they left, the sound of their footsteps fading into the distance, leaving the room thick with silence. The stillness wasn’t peaceful—it felt heavy, pressing against the walls.

The quiet broke when steady footsteps approached. Reina appeared in the doorway, her teal hair flowing as she stepped in. Her gaze softened, though her concern was unmistakable.

"Drifter... are you feeling any better?" she asked, her voice gentle but laced with worry.

Behind her, Helvra strode in confidently, her energy palpable. She grinned at Drifter, her voice warm yet bold.

"You’re looking better. I heard you figured out the attack was coming. Impressive."

Xaltherion followed closely, his posture straight and controlled. His red eyes swept the room before he spoke, his tone cool but measured.

"I wouldn’t be surprised if you had some kind of clairvoyance. You always seem one step ahead."

From the sofa near the right of Drifter's bed, Jaxon sat with his legs propped up, a smirk on his face.

"Oh, and by the way, they’re the ones who pulled you out of the research center. Thought you’d want to know."

Drifter blinked, his gaze flickering toward the others. His lips parted for a moment, then he lowered his head, a soft sigh escaping as his expression softened.

"I see... Thank you," he whispered, his voice thick with sincerity.

After a moment, he asked,

"By the way, where’s your quiet teammate?"

Helvra scoffed softly, crossing her arms as she glanced at Reina.

"Oh, you mean our leader? Stuff like this? Yeah, he never shows up. But give him a new mission, and he's the first one in."

Reina gave Helvra a pointed look, shaking her head with a gentle smile.

"Helvra, don’t say that. That’s too harsh."

Helvra shrugged with a light laugh, keeping her tone playful.

"I’m just being honest. Isn’t that right, Therion?" She turned toward Xaltherion, her grin teasing.

Xaltherion remained composed, his gaze steady as he leaned slightly forward, his voice calm but sharp.

"Speaking of which, Drifter, do you remember who was behind the attack?"

Drifter nodded, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"Yes, Leif Morbane... That’s what Friedrich and Grandmaster said."

Xaltherion took a slow breath, his face composed, though a sharp glint flickered in his eyes.

"I’m not surprised. I’ve heard he’s ruthless. You’re lucky to have made it out alive."

Drifter frowned, his gaze growing distant.

"Ruthless, maybe... but there was something strange about him. Something I just couldn’t put my finger on."

Reina gave a small, reassuring smile, her voice softening.

"What matters now is that the academy and the city are safe. That’s what’s most important."

Drifter nodded again, his voice quiet but steady.

"You’re right... I’m grateful for that."

The conversation gradually shifted, the tension easing as the topics turned lighter. Eventually, one by one, they began saying their goodbyes.

Reina lingered for a moment, her gentle smile warm.

"Take care of yourself, Drifter. I hope you recover quickly."

Helvra gave a casual wave, her grin easygoing.

"Take care of yourself, alright? We’ll be waiting for you to get back on your feet!"

Xaltherion offered a small nod, his footsteps steady as he followed the others out.

As the door quietly closed, Drifter exhaled deeply. The calm returned to the room, but the weight in his chest remained. He stared at the ceiling, his thoughts lingering on their words. The faces of those who had brought him a sense of peace in the storm hadn’t entirely faded from his mind.

A short while later, the door opened again. Alina and Luna entered, carrying small bags filled with gifts. The warm aroma of food and herbal tea filled the air.

Jaxon, who had been sitting quietly, straightened up immediately.

"There they are..." Jaxon said casually

Alina stepped forward, setting a small bag on the bedside table. Her gaze locked onto Drifter, sharp and unwavering.

"How are you feeling? Any better?" she asked, her voice soft but her eyes steady.

Drifter inhaled sharply, his shoulders rising before he exhaled slowly. His lips curled into a smile.

"Not bad... I’m just glad you’re all safe."

Alina nodded, but her brow furrowed, and the warmth in her gaze faded. She leaned forward, hands resting on the edge of the bed, her voice lowering.

"By the way, you never told us... How did you know the enemy was going to attack?"

A brief silence hung in the air. Luna glanced at Alina and Drifter, her face unreadable. Jaxon moved closer to Alina, his gaze softening.

"Hey, Alina... Maybe save that for later. Let him rest first," he suggested, his tone light but firm.

Alina’s eyes darted to Jaxon for a moment before locking onto Drifter. Her jaw tightened as her voice sharpened.

"This isn’t about timing, Jaxon. We’re a team, and this is about people’s lives. If there’s something important, we have to know. I respect your privacy, but some things are too big to keep to yourself."

Drifter stayed quiet, his brows furrowed, fingers tightening around the blanket. After a long pause, he exhaled deeply, his voice trembling as he spoke.

"I’m sorry... It’s just... hard to explain."

The room fell still. Drifter remained motionless, his gaze fixed ahead, unblinking, as if lost in a distant thought.

"Every night, I dream..." He paused, closing his eyes briefly.

"The academy in ruins... all of you, gone."

The worry in Alina and Jaxon’s faces deepened. Drifter’s voice cracked, rough and strained as he spoke.

"But the dream felt too real," he murmured, his eyes distant.

"The smell of blood, the destruction... It was like I was really there. I don’t know if it was a nightmare, a vision of the future, or... something else."

He paused, biting his lip, jaw clenched, brow furrowed as his gaze drifted.

"Sometimes... it feels like I’m reliving time. Like I’ve been sent back to fix things."

A thick silence hung in the air. After a beat, Jaxon exhaled, his hand resting briefly on Drifter’s shoulder.

"What matters now is that we’re all here, Drifter. It’s over. Don’t dwell on it too much. Just focus on getting better."

Alina’s eyes lingered on him for a moment, her shoulders relaxing as she held his gaze, though her voice remained firm.

"Thanks for telling us. I’ll look into... whatever it is you’re dealing with. Maybe there’s a way we can help."

Drifter met her gaze, his shoulders loosening as a faint breath escaped him, the tension in his face easing for a brief moment.

"Thank you... Alina. And you too, Jaxon."

The two turned to leave, but Jaxon stopped at the doorway, adjusting his hat before glancing back.

"Get some rest, Drifter. And stop overthinking things, alright?"

But Luna remained. She stood near the window, looking out. Her silhouette was framed by the morning light streaming through the curtains.

Without turning around, she spoke, her voice low but firm.

"This silence... it feels unnatural, doesn’t it?"

Drifter looked at her, a chill running down his spine. His thoughts raced, but he managed a quiet reply.

"They’re... quiet. For now."

Her gaze shifted, locking onto Drifter’s, a shadow flickering in her eyes, sharp and heavy like a silent storm.

"And... that other presence? Is it still there?" she asked, her tone almost a whisper but heavy with weight.

Drifter froze, his voice trembled as he answered.

"It waited until I was weak. But it didn’t... stay long."

Luna listened intently, her eyes narrowing. She nodded slightly, turning back to the window.

Her voice was quieter now, almost a murmur.

"You didn’t tell Alina and Jaxon about this..."

Drifter shook his head, his gaze distant.

"They don’t need to know..."

After a long pause, he finally spoke.

"He... offered me something, Luna... Help to bring the cube back, and to ensure your safety from the enemy's threat."

Luna tilted her head slightly, her gaze sharp.

"Did you accept his offer?"

Drifter fell silent, his gaze sinking to his trembling hands, fingers clutching the blanket as his lip quivered, eyes shadowed with regret.

"I... I don’t remember," he murmured, his voice faltering.

Luna’s jaw tightened as she drew a deep breath. She moved slowly toward the window, her steps measured. With a firm but composed gesture, she drew the curtain slightly, letting in a sliver of light that felt cold despite its warmth.

"I’m leaving for now," she said at last, her tone steady but quiet.

"Don’t dwell on it too much. You need rest."

She paused briefly, turning back to glance at Drifter. Her eyes were misty, narrowing slightly as her lips quivered before she steadied them. Without another word, she turned away, her posture tense but resolute. Her footsteps were soft, almost inaudible, as she reached for the doorknob, opening and closing the door with deliberate care.

Drifter remained on the bed, his gaze fixed on the floor. His hands still gripped the blanket, his knuckles pale from the strain.

[Location: Unknown – ???? – Stealth Alcherider – Year 1092 Ad Felicitas]

A dark sky stretched above a quiet ocean as the Alcherider, cloaked in invisibility, glided silently across the water. Only the faint ripples below hinted at its presence.

Lucian Thorne, a silver-haired young man, sat in the cockpit, flipping a black cube in his hand and studying it intently. The autopilot hummed softly on the control panel in front of him.

Next to him, Leif Morbane lounged casually, his face showing little concern as he adjusted the brim of his hat.

"You don’t think this feels... strange, do you, Leif?" Lucian asked, his voice low and filled with restrained thoughts.

Leif glanced over, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

Lucian held up the black cube in his left hand, his expression serious.

"I mean, from the outside, this thing looks useless... But...?" he trailed off, suspicion lacing his words.

"From the outside, this thing looks useless... But...?" Lucian trailed off, suspicion edging his voice.

"Doesn’t this feel off? Why go through all this trouble to pick a fight with the Evocaier Order over something that seems worthless? And then there’s the stealth tech—everything from simple devices to skyships. Who has the budget to support tens of thousands of military automatons? The tech they’re using is way beyond anything I’ve seen."

He paused, narrowing his eyes.

"And one more thing... Why are they giving us their tech? This Alcherider... if we sold it to the highest bidder in the underworld, we’d make a fortune. No one knows about this kind of stealth tech."

He exhaled softly, his hand trembling slightly as he gripped the cube.

"None of this makes sense. Who exactly is behind this?"

The question hung in the air, heavy with implications.

Leif paused, his smirk fading momentarily into a more serious expression—but only for a heartbeat. His confident smile quickly returned.

"Yeah, it’s a bit strange. But who cares? You know the rules: don’t ask too many questions."

Lucian crossed his arms, the tension in his posture deepening as a furrow formed between his brows.

"This cube... it might be more valuable than we realize," he muttered, his voice barely audible, eyes fixed on the object in his hand.

"What if handing it over causes something catastrophic?" His gaze flicked to Leif for a brief moment, searching for a reaction.

Leif chuckled, the sound light but edged with indifference.

"Catastrophic? Maybe. But that’s not our problem. That’s for the Order and the governments to deal with. We’re just mercenaries, kid."

Lucian exhaled sharply, his shoulders sagging.

"I knew you’d say that... I just hope my instincts are wrong."

Leif tilted his head back, adjusting his hat with a casual flick of his fingers, his smirk returning effortlessly.

"Relax. Even if the world ends, we’ll survive—just the two of us, standing on the ashes."

Lucian rolled his eyes, the corner of his lips twitching but his expression deadpan.

"Your jokes are terrible, Leif."

The Alcherider glided on, invisible beneath the moonlight, cutting through the silent black ocean. Yet beneath the calm exterior, a growing tension loomed—an unspoken promise of something greater, darker, and far more dangerous waiting ahead.