In the stillness of a night cloaked in the whispers of dreams yet to be dreamed, Hera found herself a prisoner of her own restlessness. The comfort of her bed became a far-off memory as she tossed and turned, each movement a silent plea for sleep's elusive embrace. Finally, with a soft exhalation that seemed to carry the weight of the world, she conceded to the night, "pffff, can't sleep..."
Compelled by a restlessness that refused to be named, Hera rose from her bed like a specter seeking solace in the moon's cold light. She descended the stairs with a quiet determination, donning her shoes and a coat as if arming herself against the night's chill. The door closed behind her with a soft click, a silent farewell to the warmth of home as she ventured into the sleeping village.
Her feet carried her with an aimless urgency, eventually pausing at the village's heart—a fountain that stood as a silent sentinel in the night. It was there, under the watchful gaze of the moon, that her gaze drifted to an empty house, its darkened windows a stark reminder of what once was. Ben and Becky's home, once a beacon of warmth and laughter, stood silent, a monument to memories of days filled with the simple joy of candy and companionship.
With a heavy heart, Hera moved on, her steps leading her past the edge of familiarity and into the embrace of the woods. Here, among the whispering trees, memories of laughter and adventure played in her mind, a stark contrast to the solitude of her current journey. The woods, once a playground of endless possibilities, now stood as guardians of secrets only Hera could understand.
Her destination, a clearing where a lone tree stood as a testament to resilience and time, held a grave beneath its boughs—a grave that bore the name "Hera Lancewelt." The revelation, a dramatic interplay of shadow and moonlight, framed a moment of profound connection between Hera and the resting place that mirrored her own name. "I'm home...mother...again..." she whispered, her voice a tender caress against the silence of the night.
Sitting before the grave, Hera closed her eyes, allowing a foggy memory to envelop her—a memory from a time when the world was larger, and she, much smaller. The figure of her younger self appeared within this memory, shrouded in shadows that the morning's light would never reach.
It was then, in this moment of solemn remembrance, that the silence was broken. "Seems like you're not the only one who can't sleep.." Kasper's voice, familiar and unexpected, cut through the stillness. Hera turned to find him and Wendy emerging from the shadowed path, their presence a reminder of the bonds that tied them together.
"Wendy, Kasper! ...what kept you up?.." Hera asked, her voice tinged with the comfort of their company.
"The usual..." Wendy's response, simple yet laden with an understanding born of shared experiences, spoke volumes.
Kasper's words brought a pragmatic comfort, "Let's return back home Hera, whatever the cost, we need some rest, or we'll let the village down and won't survive our next enlistment because of fatigue.."
"You're right.." Hera agreed, rising to join her friends, the weight of their next deployment a silent companion in their midst.
As they prepared to leave, a whisper carried by the wind reached Hera, "take ... care..." Turning, she sought the source, her heart whispering a name in response, "...mom?....will do, see you soon..." Hera answers with a smile on her face, she resumed her walk, the presence of her mother a comfort against the challenges ahead.
The days passed, and the time came for departure. The village, once a haven of peace, now stood as the backdrop for farewell. Elder August's words, "take care you three, and remember what we talked about," echoed as a benediction, while Rally's assurance, "you can count on me to keep things in check here! Take care and come back fast!" added a note of resilience to their departure.
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
"Goodbye everyone!" Hera's voice, carrying a mix of determination and nostalgia, joined Kasper's promise of souvenirs and Wendy's wish for safety, weaving a tapestry of hope and resolve as they set forth towards the West Line, the frontline of a conflict that spanned worlds beyond their village.
...
Turning away from the village, they embarked on their path, each step a testament to their resolve. The road was long, and the hours melted into each other as they journeyed through landscapes that whispered tales of times gone by.
Upon arriving at the West Line Military Dispatch, the weight of what lay ahead settled heavily upon them. Wendy, ever the realist, sighed, "Sigh, here we go again.."
Kasper, trying to inject a spark of optimism, chided, "Cheer up, with that attitude you'll get yourself killed for sure."
Wendy's response was tinged with the weariness of one who has seen too much, "cHeEr uP, we're literally going towards a front line of a big world war and you're telling me to cheer up."
Hera, ever the peacemaker, intervened, "Pipe down you two, let's go to checkup."
At the checkup location, the clerk's request for their names and UOM badges brought a moment of normalcy to the surreal feeling of embarking on such a significant mission. "Name and UOM badge please," the clerk asked in a routine tone that belied the gravity of their journey.
Completing the checkup, they received confirmation of their next steps. "All good to go, you're taking Poseidon, it's at dock 4. Safe travels and good luck," the clerk informed them, a standard farewell that nonetheless carried the weight of genuine well-wishes.
"Thanks, when will the ship be moving out by the way?" Hera inquired, seeking to anchor herself with details.
"In about an hour," came the reply, setting the timeline for their imminent departure.
Acknowledging the clerk with a simple, "Alright, thanks," they moved towards dock 4, where the Poseidon awaited, its decks already teeming with the lives and stories of those onboard.
...
"Well, I'm going to my cabin, I'll see you guys on the deck in an hour or so when we move out, alright?" Kasper announced, marking a brief parting as they each sought a moment of respite before the journey ahead.
"Sure," Wendy and Hera responded in unison, the division of cabins a small reminder of the structured world they were about to leave behind on land.
As time slipped quietly by, they found themselves back on deck, the vast expanse of the sea before them, a metaphor for the unknown that lay ahead. Captain John Waverly's address broke through the murmur of anticipation, his words a mix of warning and humor that belied the seriousness of their mission. "Listen up, soldiers, we're about to move out, so if you're prone to getting seasick, hit the bed, if you're bored, help the ship's crew, and if you're annoying, I'll personally throw you overboard. The trip will take 2 days as usual, that's all. Any questions?"
...
A forest of hands shot up, a testament to the myriad concerns and curiosities of those aboard. Yet, with a dismissive glance, Captain Waverly concluded, "Seems like there are no important questions, well then, have fun aboard my ship." The murmurs that followed, a blend of confusion and disbelief, underscored the surreal nature of their departure.
"Alright then, honestly, I'm just going to go to bed, time goes faster that way, what about you guys?" Hera suggested, seeking the solace of sleep in the face of an uncertain future.
"I'm kinda hungry, so I'll go to the cafeteria," Wendy decided, the practical need for sustenance grounding her.
"I took a small nap, so I'll join Wendy to grab some food," Kasper concluded, their paths diverging momentarily as each sought to prepare for the journey in their own way.
"Alright, see ya then! I'm off to bed, haha," Hera's laughter was a brief spark of lightness as they parted ways with a casual, "See ya! Bye!"
As the ship began its journey, the we see Captain John Waverly, who, away from the eyes of his crew and passengers, engaged in a covert communication.
...
"...everything is ready, infiltration successful..."