- Republic of Dorma: Militarised City—Lindwurm -
- Oswald Estate -
"Did you hear about that fool, Brunford?"
"Anyone worth anything has..."
Rufus Oswald and his wife, Sabine Oswald, sat within the estate's study. The latter skimmed through the day's paper with sharp, discerning eyes, while the former tapped his foot against the floor with unconcealed enthusiasm, his face split into the brightest of grins.
News of a rival nation's embarrassment was amusing enough on its own.
The humiliation of one of that nation's foremost powerhouses, however...
That was the sort of excitement that made Dormese blood stir.
"Getting caught up in his emotions and overextending himself like that," Rufus chortled. "Not very noble-like of him."
Dorma liked to pride itself on being free from the stagnant traditions of kings and nobles.
Yet, over generations, certain families had rooted themselves so deeply within the republic's military, economy, and political machinery that they were functionally the same thing—just without the formality.
The Oswalds were one such family.
They informally held sway over Lindwurm, the most strategically important city in the nation, bordering the Theocracy of Gyse to the west.
"Have you stopped to think that that could be you next?" Sabine asked, peering over her paper. "Or did you forget you're also on thin ice with Adrian Rosenhart?"
Rufus frowned. "Of course not. But unlike that guy, I know my place. I would never make an outright move on the Rosenharts. At least, not yet."
Sabine stared at him, unimpressed.
"Right," she said, laying an open page on the table. "If I were you, I would focus more on the situation up north."
"The boy who claimed a Supreme Grade Regalia?" he asked, then scoffed. "What benefit would that have for me?"
Again, Sabine simply stared.
"The south is saturated with attention right now," she explained. "There isn't much room for anyone to manoeuvre freely, much less someone like you. And yes, you are of significantly lesser stature than those who would already be gathered there."
Rufus didn't like how pointed her words were, but he had to admit she was right. By now, the likes of Rosenhart—or their agents—would already be all over the scene.
"...What would you have us do?"
Sabine gave a faint, unreadable smile, resting her cheek against the palm of her left hand.
"Invest in the future."
---
- Unknown Location -
In a vast white chamber swallowed in absolute darkness, the steady beeping of machines echoed without end.
At the centre stood a diagonally raised bed that was better described as a containment unit. Within it, a man—disfigured beyond measure—was bound by restraints that kept him alive more than they kept him still.
"Say that again..." his raspy voice forced its way out.
The white-coated people in front of him shifted uneasily, unable to meet even his weakened gaze.
"The south has disappeared... not long after we lost contact with our agent."
The crippled man laughed slowly, unevenly.
"So not only did he fail to discover the site of the Regalia," he started between laboured breaths. "He also wasted the supply of the Seeds of Rapture we provided him and vanished alongside the entire region?"
Silence hung heavy over their heads. One of the younger researchers even bit back a sob, tears spilling down her face.
"That sounds to me like betrayal—"
"That's impossible, sir!" a male researcher cut in. "His reports were consistent until at least three weeks ago! Something else must have happened!"
Sickly white irises shifted toward him, studying him in silence after the outburst.
"...Did you... just interrupt me...?"
The man's eyes widened before he bolted toward the door.
Just as he reached it, it slid open to reveal several black-cloaked figures of varying heights and builds.
"Hel—"
His voice cut off, head exploding in a sudden burst of blood and bone, painting the white floor in a violent streak of red.
The leader of the newly arrived group stared at the scene for a moment, then strolled forward, stepping over the corpse without reaction.
"Sir," he said, stopping before the disfigured man. "It's not good for you to overexert yourself."
"Umbra Six... is that you?" the man rasped. "Then you're all Fenrir II... why are you here?"
The man gave a light bow, while his five subordinates knelt.
"We already submitted a report of our recent mission to Cube Thirteen," Umbra Six replied cordially. "However, the director at the facility felt it best that we report directly to you as well."
The liquid in the tanks behind the man bubbled as he gave a faint, distracted hum.
"Is that so?" he asked absently. "What a busybody... and what was the nature of the mission?"
"Some test subjects escaped from Cube Thirteen, and we were tasked with retrieving them," Ventus Nine answered.
"Did you succeed?"
"Unfortunately, no," Lux Seven said.
The man slowly regarded them from left to right: Ignis Twelve, Terra Twenty-Eight, Lux Seven, Umbra Six, Ventus Nine, and Aqua Thirty-Five.
The second-deadliest combat squad of the Hunting Dogs—Fenrir II.
Even though the crippled man said nothing, Umbra Six understood his silence to mean he wanted clarification.
"The pursuit led us to Galma," he explained. "It devolved into an ocean chase before a sea beast interfered."
"A sea beast stopped you? Even with you, Ventus Nine and Lux Seven fighting together?"
Umbra Six shook his head, ignoring the increasingly violent bubbling behind the man.
"We couldn't go all out due to the nature of our targets."
That piqued the man's attention. He recalled a time long ago, before the blond monster of Degradio had left him in his current state, when he had visited Cube Thirteen and been shown a handful of subjects with exceptional potential.
'Which of them escaped to warrant haphazardly dispatching a combat squad under such restrictions...'
"The escapees were Specimens 456, 229, 088, 998, 1213 and... 103," Umbra Six added unbidden.
If the man's eyes could widen, they would have. Instead, he burst into laughter, the liquid in the tanks behind him briefly stabilising before he broke into harsh coughing.
The researchers' eyes darted between the black cloaks and their own apparent leader, uncomfortably awaiting some form of dismissal.
"I see!" the man said, amused. "That child was among them! If that's the case, I understand why you hesitated. It's their fault for sending mismatched personnel after such a sensitive target."
The Hunting Dogs remained still, fully aware that they were not yet absolved until he delivered his final verdict in full.
"I'll reach out to Page Yris myself," the man continued, drawing shocked reactions from the cloaked figures. "It's been a while since I've been involved in the organisation's current affairs. Besides..."
A few bubbles rose again before a wave of mauve power surged through the room.
"If your little incident took place in the south, I have a vested interest there myself right now."
Umbra Six shielded his eyes, his mind struggling to remain coherent.
'His casis is still as overwhelming as ever,' he thought, recalling that this man was one of the few practitioners in the world who had developed the power to such a point. 'If we're not careful, we'll lose track of where our thoughts end and his influence begins...'
"You're all dismissed," he said, his energy dispersing instantly. "I want to be left to my thoughts."
Without delay, they all marched out steadily, careful not to run so they didn't set him off.
Umbra Six cast one last glance into the darkness, registering the weakened figure and noting that monsters like him were not extremely uncommon within the organisation.
But there existed a level beyond even them—beings so far removed from normal understanding that they could leave even these guys requiring machines simply to remain alive.
He watched his thoughts, aware that he wasn't in the clear just yet.
As the doors shut, the man chuckled softly.
"Yes, just like that... just like that."
---
- Aboard the Dread Seeder: Luvarne -
Reoloy sat on the sand of what used to be Cardana's shoreline.
For the past few days, he had watched with mild intrigue—and alarm, admittedly—as the mountains and other similarly towering formations slowly merged into the turtle beneath them. The terrain remained just as vast, but had undergone such a metamorphosis that he barely recognised it.
'At least the forest's the same...'
After apologising to the Cardanians for the disruption he'd caused, things had fallen back into routine quite easily—except for the fact that some people had been away at the time of departure and would likely return to nothing...
"Are you still in shock?" Selene asked, strolling over and settling beside him.
He glanced at her briefly before returning his gaze to the unnatural stretch of water that remained even atop the turtle's back.
His pink-haired fellow fugitive had woken up the day after their takeoff. Annoyingly so, since she didn't even bother pretending to be remorseful for her complicity over the matter on the ship.
Reoloy had partially entertained the idea of pretending to throw her off, but decided it was a meaningless, petty effort.
"What do you want?" he asked, unable to ignore her "stare."
"Well, knowing what you intend to do next would be a nice start," she replied, too practised for his liking.
"Training," he said simply. "And forming a party."
Selene's brow rose, though her eyes remained closed.
"Like the explorers? That kind of party?"
"Yes. You've heard about it," he asked, genuinely curious. "I thought you were one of the ones raised entirely from birth at Cube."
"I was. I just have my ways."
What they had all come to understand in this time was that if anyone could unsettle Reoloy, it was Selene. It didn't help that she knew it and could see it on top of everything else.
"Where's Gaiskie today?" she asked with a knowing smile.
"...I really don't like her."
"Same here..." Reoloy agreed, fully aware she could hear them. "But she has the potential to be incredibly useful... maybe."
Gaiskas had returned shortly after Selene woke up.
Apparently, it had been floating in an empty void for what seemed like months on end. He would feel sorry for it if he didn't already know what was coming sooner or later.
'Luckily, my earlier concerns were taken care of,' Reoloy thought, lying back and taking in the clouds. 'Just like in the game, a magic spell was activated, locking interference out of the region affected by Luvarne's unearthing.'
He had seen the notification and almost burst out crying in the middle of the street. He couldn't even begin to describe the details of the sleepless nights before it.
"I should start training my casis soon..."
"You've been saying that since the day before yesterday."
"For once, Selene, just shut up."
The atmosphere far above the clouds was much more peaceful—far removed from the tangled agendas and silent fractures unfolding down below.