"Hurry!"
Jonas, Ethan, and Sylvia rushed through the factory, moving at full speed as they worked frantically to complete the repairs. Their hearts pounded violently in their chests, each beat echoing in their ears, making their hands tremble despite their efforts to stay steady.
"Don't panic! We can still make it."
That was their only saving grace—they weren't building from nothing. All they had to do was repair what was already there.
'Don't worry. We can make it.'
Jonas clung to that thought, even as doubt crept in. No matter how prepared he believed himself to be for death, facing it now—when survival was just within reach—felt like a cruel twist of fate.
The ground trembled more violently with each passing second. The vibrations intensified, deep and relentless, as if the world itself was being shaken apart. Beyond the factory walls, darkness crept forward, slowly swallowing everything in its path.
This wasn't an army in the traditional sense. It was a force of mechanical beings, singular in purpose—eradicating all original life on Earth and replacing it with their own.
Jonas spared a glance outside.
And nearly despaired.
Hundreds of Behemoth-class units. Dozens of Titan-class. And at the forefront—
A single Colossi.
'Can… we even escape?'
If he had been alone, he might have given up right then and there.
But he wasn't.
His gaze shifted to the twins.
No matter what they had endured, no matter how much they had matured beyond their years, they were still children. No child could truly remain calm in the face of something like that.
'I guess… seeing others panic worse than you makes it easier to stay calm.'
Jonas took a deep breath, steadying himself, and forced a smile onto his face.
"Hey," he called out.
"It's gonna be okay."
But they all knew it was a lie.
'At this rate… they'll reach us before we finish.'
Sylvia understood that better than anyone. She had contributed the most to building the machine—she knew exactly how much time it required.
'Even if we rush… we need fifteen minutes.'
And the khaerix would arrive in five.
"Sylvia, you can repair the plane on your own, right?" Jonas asked.
She nodded slowly, almost absentmindedly, as though her body was moving on its own.
"Ethan, help your sister as much as possible."
"That's obvious. But…" Ethan's voice wavered as he grabbed Jonas's arm, his grip tightening.
"What are you planning to do?"
Sylvia's eyes widened in realization. The tool in her hand slipped from her fingers as she rushed toward him.
"Jonas, don't worry. I can do it. I'll finish before they reach us. So—"
Jonas cut her off.
His expression was calm, firm, and unyielding.
"You of all people should know that's impossible," he said gently. "Hope matters—but only when it isn't foolish."
"I know." Her voice broke, trembling as tears welled up in her eyes. "I know… I'm still that much of a fool. So…"
She clenched her fists, forcing the words out.
"…please teach me more."
Jonas looked at both of them, his gaze softening. A small smile formed on his lips as he crouched down to meet them at eye level.
"You two will be fine," he said quietly. "As long as you have each other."
He turned to Sylvia.
"Don't try to carry everything alone. Sometimes, two heads really are better than one."
Then to Ethan.
"Rely on your sister more. She's not as fragile as you think. She won't break under your weight."
His eyes lingered on them both.
"The two of you aren't strong because of intelligence or power. You're strong because you rely on each other. That's why… no matter what happens, believe in each other."
His voice softened further.
"And keep moving forward. Together."
Before either of them could respond—
He vanished.
…
'There was… a lot more I wanted to say.'
Jonas stepped into the room he had been staying in and reached for something he had prepared in advance.
His gaze fell on the suit laid neatly on the bed. For a brief moment, he simply stared at it.
Then he put it on.
He picked up his blades, securing them in place, before reaching for the final object—the "thing."
A faint smile touched his lips as he fitted it into position.
'Time to go.'
The smile faded.
Without hesitation, he leapt out of the window.
…
The "thing" was an ioner mobility device.
He had found it broken, discarded. With Sylvia's help—though she hadn't realized what she was contributing to—he had managed to repair it just enough for a single use.
He had hoped he would never need it.
That would have been the ideal outcome.
'But sometimes… the world doesn't give you a choice.'
As he soared into the sky, the wind rushing past him, his eyes locked onto the advancing khaerix army.
There was no fear in them.
Only a strange, unnatural calm.
Perhaps it was because his death was certain.
Perhaps it was because he had something he needed to protect—no matter the cost.
Perhaps it was his ideals. His identity.
Or perhaps it was all of those things, intertwined.
He glanced back one last time.
The twins were already moving, their figures small in the distance—but determined.
A faint smile crossed his face.
'That's right…'
He turned his gaze forward again.
'No matter how much life tries to break you…'
His eyes hardened.
'…you have to keep moving.'