The veil of darkness was strewn with the glitter of distant stars, their brilliance contested the subtle glow of the lunar companion above. Hao, Mentos, and the Bastians surfed the night currents through the cool caress of the zephyr. Destination in sight? Katana Creek, a little slice of heaven where Mentos' dwelling was cradled amidst towering sentinels of nature and the soft lullaby of a babbling brook.

They sported the battle scars of the day's trials and tribulations—the catastrophic descent of the Skyship, the unsettling mystery of Yoad's destiny, and the crumbling Conclave.

Mentos who was darting between the celestial bodies and his comrades, was an orchestra of anxious thoughts, eventually, he uttered, "We gave the Conclave the slip, but Yoad? What of him? I still feel so bad about what happened to the lad and his Bastian." he left his query hanging in the air like an ominous cloud.

Hao exhaled a gust of weary resignation. "We can only pray he survived the fall."

“Me too.” Came Mentos’ response. Maelstrom snorted almost as if sharing in their shared sympathy. A comforting hand patted the beast, "Isn't that right, Acadian?" The beast's reply was a subdued huff that easily faded into the tranquil silence of the night.

Ahead, the Sword Fishes moved with a balletic elegance that belied their hulking forms. They were effortlessly waltzing through the sky as the moon's radiance added to their already glowing bodies, it created an enchanting spectacle of fluid silhouettes against the night's canvas.

Their ride was a comfortable one. Yet, tranquillity was disrupted by a sudden spectacle that Mentos noticed upon scanning the ground up ahead, he spotted an odd assembly of vehicles with blinking lights around his workshop and his home. His brow knitted in a frown with suspicion creeping into his features. "What the heck is going on down there, a party?"

Thinking that a party may be ongoing, he rummaged through his toolkit for something particular. Out came a monocle contraption, christened the Eye of Omniscope. It was a simple invention, just a spyglass that could bring far-off objects into startling detail.

Peering through the Eye, confusion gave way to awareness, which in turn morphed into disbelief. His humble abode was crawling with OSD operatives, headed by the Imperial Hounds. Droids scurried amongst them also, scanning every nook and cranny with ruthless efficiency.

Mentos’ grip on the device grew tighter, "They're all over the place," His fury seeped into his tone. His accusing gaze then landed on Hao, "How'd they get wind of my pad? You said they were clueless about us being chums."

Being caught off guard, Hao zoomed in at his Vibe Edge hilt. An epiphany washed over him, "They must've tracked the transmission between Ciara and me before we left for the Conclave," he confessed.

"So, your sweetheart sold us down the river!?" Mentos’s words were dripping with venom.

"No, she wouldn't..." Hao's counter was soft, almost pleading. "Ciara isn't like that. She cares about me. She wouldn't knowingly..."

“Growl.” The heated exchange was cut short by the Bastians' distressed sounds, they clearly sensed the escalating tension.

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Mentos, still fuming, queried, "So, what now? We can't waltz back into the lion's den without getting nabbed. Where to?"

Hao fell silent in a pensive mode. One option came to thought, but it left a sour taste in his mouth. The image of a daunting edifice flashed in his mind—Sphero's Inc. With a sigh heavy, he directed the Sword Fishes, "About face. Let's head there." His tone was assertive, but his expression betrayed his apprehension.

When he heard where they were headed, Mentos simply nodded in silent compliance. He understood the reason for Hao’s behaviour. The Sword Fishes picked up on their intent and swiftly changed course, scaling the night sky with renewed vigour.

Whoosh!

As they charted their course towards Sphero's Inc, the twinkling lights encircling Mentos' abode dwindled into tiny specks before vanishing completely behind them. However, after they disappeared from view, a peculiar sensation prickled one of the Imperial Hounds. Colgate, an old hand at sensing trouble, tilted his head skywards with his gaze slicing through the darkness.

"Spill it, Colgate. What's up? Why are you looking up like that?" Diana, his close partner, queried upon seeing where he spied. She had enough experience under her belt working with Colgate to trust his gut.

Still steadfastly scanning the firmament, Colgate replied, "Not sure. Just a strange vibe."

“Oh…” Diana watched where he was looking until her neck grew tired, compelling her to shift directions.

Meanwhile, the Imperial Hounds, aided by a handful of OSD operatives, were knee-deep in their operation. They search through the remnants of Mentos' dwelling and workshop with a fine-toothed comb. The workers who were still in shock from the sudden intrusion, were grilled about Hao and Mentos' whereabouts. It was a flurry of activity, but the answers they sought remained as elusive as ever.

Whilst this operation was ongoing, down by the edging waves of Katana Creek, a troupe of Scrap Divers boots were sinking into the cooling sand. Hefty bags full of the day's treasure hung off their shoulders, the weight a satisfying burden. Their faces were smudged with the earthy tokens of their labour—dirt and grease harmoniously mixed.

"Whoo! Ain't no one gonna believe the mountain of scrap we've stumbled upon today!" one of the divers hollered, shifting the weighty bag on his shoulder with a grunt of satisfaction.

"No kidding," his mate replied with a wide grin splitting his grease-streaked face. "We'll be stuffing our faces like royal highnesses tonight!"

“I say yes to that!”

Their chit-chat bounced back and forth as they trudged along until they came across a figure sprawled out on the shore.

“Hey, I think there’s a person over there.” One of them alerted the other.

The form was unmistakably feminine, her clothes clung to her form, waterlogged and battered from the incessant onslaught of the waves. Alarmed, the divers dropped their finds and scuttled over, rolling her over to reveal a pallid, unresponsive visage.

"Hey, missy, you okay?" A Scrap Diver queried while giving her a gentle shake.

“Let me!” Another fellow sprung into action, pressing his hands to her chest in an attempt to bring her back from the brink.

“Cough! Cough!”

Their efforts paid off when she expelled a mouthful of water, spraying the would-be lifesaver in the face.

“Rest over here.” They hoisted her up while assaulting her with a barrage of questions.

“What were you doing to end up on the shore in this state?”

“Are you perhaps also a Scrap Diver?”

“Can you talk, do you know your name?”

“Do you want us to call the emergency crew to come pick you up?”

“Hey, lady do you hear what we’re saying?” The Scrap Divers pressed on with questions.

“Erm…” Holding her hurting head, the lady slightly lifted it to look at her saviours. This woman turned out to be Kiera, somehow, she had survived the throes of Katana Creek and ended up sprawled on the shoreline. Upon hearing the Scrap Divers’ incessant question, moreover, perceiving how close they were in contact to here, she told them roughly to "Back off!" she wasn’t one for chit-chat. She also shoved them away then started shifting her head about the area. Finally, her eyes landed on her Blade Edge—Serpent’s Lash. With a grunt, she snatched it up and stalked off, leaving the Scrap Divers gawking.

“What’s her problem?”

"Darned if I know," a diver mumbled, scratching his head.

"Some folks, eh?"

“Not even a thank you for saving her life…”