The train rattled steadily across Fiore's countryside, its iron wheels humming against the rails as jagged mountains, lush forests, and scattered villages slipped past the frost-tinted windows.
Inside the private government cabin, a suffocating silence had settled over the seven rescued researchers. No one had ordered them to stay quiet. Rather, they had collectively chosen survival over conversation, given that Kairos Sunveil was currently occupying nearly an entire bench by himself to conduct what could only be described as completely unsupervised, highly volatile magical engineering.
Over the last several hours, the researchers had gradually migrated to the exact opposite side of the compartment, clustering together like prey animals trying to avoid an apex predator. The object of their collective dread sat dead center, surrounded by a chaotic web of loose wiring, dismantled lacrimas, tiny rune-etched plates, copper coils, and several glowing metallic objects nobody could confidently identify.
Occasionally, blue sparks erupted from his fingertips. Occasionally, something hissed. Once, something exploded.
It wasn't a large explosion—and that, somehow, made it worse.
A sharp, metallic pop was immediately followed by Kai casually scribbling the word unstable into his journal. Without looking up, he tossed the smoking component straight out the open window. No explanation was provided. None was requested.
It was deeply unfortunate, because every single one of them desperately wanted answers. They wanted to know exactly what had happened inside the lower levels of the ruins. They wanted to know how he had somehow slaughtered the ancient guardian. Most of all, they wanted to know why intricate, glowing runes now stretched beneath his rolled-up sleeves, pulsing like a second heartbeat beneath his skin.
Unfortunately, they also valued their continued existence. It was a difficult balance.
Kai, meanwhile, remained blissfully unaware of their internal existential crisis—or perhaps he simply didn't care. His attention was locked onto a palm-sized framework of silver metal suspended between his fingers. Tiny runes glowed along its chassis as several miniature, crystalline lacrimas rotated in a perfect, micro-orbital track around it.
For a few seconds, it appeared stable. Then, the entire device emitted a high-pitched, agonizing whine.
Kai stared at it. The device seemed to stare back.
"Don't," Kai warned.
It immediately exploded.
A thick puff of acrid, gray smoke billowed into the compartment. The researchers flinched in unison, one of them letting out a muffled squeak.
Kai sighed, completely unfazed by the soot coating his fingers. "Fine. Be difficult."
He tossed the charred remains into a leather pouch slung at his waist. It was boldly labeled FAILED IDEAS. The text looked relatively fresh, yet the pouch was already bulging disturbingly at the seams.
Kai leaned back and stretched his arms above his head. The sudden movement caused the nearest researcher to nearly jump clean out of his seat. Noticing this, a slow, deeply wicked smirk pulled at the corner of Kai's lips. He stretched a little further, letting his knuckles pop. The poor man visibly tensed, sweating bullets. Satisfied with his minor act of psychological warfare, Kai relaxed back into his seat. Sometimes, it was vital to enjoy the little things.
His hand drifted into one of his storage pouches to grab another component. Empty. He checked a second one, then a third.
His expression shifted. "Huh."
That wasn't good.
A thorough inspection confirmed the tragic reality: his inventory was practically bone-dry. Several compartments contained little more than spare screws. One pouch held exactly three bolts and a suspiciously shiny pebble he didn't remember picking up. The brutal ruin expedition had entirely consumed his stockpiles.
Kai frowned. That meant shopping. Shopping meant procurement paperwork. Because government budgets were involved, it meant dealing with Siris—which meant profound mental suffering.
A tragedy all around.
Several hours later, the train finally slowed. Steam hissed violently from the undercarriage, and the heavy iron brakes groaned to a halt. The researchers collectively relaxed, their shoulders dropping in unison. One of them looked ready to weep with joy.
The train had finally reached Crocus, the Capital of Fiore.
Kai stepped off the passenger car first, welcoming the cool, crisp mountain air. He stood on the bustling platform, looking out at the skyline.
Crocus was beautiful, if entirely excessive. Nestled within a vast valley surrounded by towering mountains, the city stretched across the landscape like a masterfully crafted painting. Elegant stone bridges crossed clear, shimmering waterways. Massive, manicured flower gardens decorated entire residential districts, and sweeping circular architecture rose proudly above broad avenues lined with white-blossomed trees. White stone reflected the afternoon sunlight across thousands of rooftops and spires.
Dominating everything else was Mercurius.
The royal palace stood proudly at the city's center, a colossal, multi-tiered structure surrounded by a vast, artificial lake. Twin marble bridges stretched across the water toward its grand gates, its golden towers rising high enough to overlook nearly the entire capital.
Kai stared at the skyline for several seconds, then sighed. "Every time I come back, they've added something completely useless."
One of the researchers blinked, stepping up beside him. "Added something?"
Kai pointed a soot-stained finger toward a newly constructed, highly decorative clock tower near the palace perimeter. "That wasn't there three months ago."
Marcus squinted. "How can you even tell?"
Kai looked genuinely offended. "Because I have eyes, Mucus."
The man winced, looking instantly weary of his own existence. "It's Marcus, sir," he muttered under his breath, fully aware it was a losing battle. The Director had not used a subordinate's correct name since the turn of the decade.
Kai shoved his hands into his pockets and continued down the platform, weaving through the crowd. "Royalty is fascinating," he muttered.
The researchers exchanged wary glances, following at a safe distance. "How so, Boss?"
"They have an infinite supply of public tax money, yet they still manage to find entirely new, creative ways to waste it."
Nobody had a brave enough counterargument for that.
As they cleared the station gates, the lead researcher cautiously cleared his throat. "Boss."
"Hm?"
"We should probably report straight to the palace. Together."
Kai stopped dead in his tracks. He turned, slowly raising a single, unimpressed eyebrow. "You said something?"
The researcher nodded nervously. "We should get moving. The carriage is waiting."
"Excellent suggestion," Kai said smoothly. He immediately turned and began walking in the exact opposite direction, toward the market district.
The entire group froze. "Boss?!"
Kai waved a dismissive hand over his shoulder without looking back. "I need supplies. My pouches are empty."
"But what about the official debriefing?" Marcus called out, panicked.
"You can start without me."
"The King himself requested a full report on the ruins!"
"I'll be there," Kai replied, his voice already fading into the bustling street noise.
"When?"
Kai shrugged, his silhouette disappearing past a row of merchant stalls. "When I arrive."
He left seven highly educated, utterly exhausted researchers standing on the cobblestones, deeply questioning their life and career choices.
Several hours later, Kai finally made his way across one of the great marble bridges leading toward Mercurius. He was dragging a deceptively heavy, custom-reinforced crate packed with rare etherano-conductive brass, volatile lacrima cores, and specialized tools.
The elite palace guards at the outer gates snapped to attention, recognizing his chaotic stride. "Sir Kairos."
Kai nodded lazily. "Still standing around looking intimidating in armor that weighs fifty pounds?"
"It's a strict requirement, sir," the guard replied, a grin cracking his professional facade.
"Tragic. Absolutely tragic."
The guard's chuckles followed him as Kai continued onward.
The interior of Mercurius was just as ostentatious as he remembered—endless marble hallways, gold-leaf decorations, and historical paintings worth more than entire agrarian villages. Political officials in silken robes rushed frantically between meetings, and minor nobles strutted about, pretending they were vital to the grand scheme of the kingdom.
Occasionally, someone recognized him, and a ripple of quiet chaos followed. Whisper campaigns echoed through the hallways—The Director is back. Quick, someone inform the Ministry. Did he actually survive?—accompanied by a barrage of polite, fake smiles and hurried requests for scheduling.
Kai ignored every single one of them, navigating the labyrinthine palace until he finally reached his actual domain: The Ministry of Research, Artifacts & Development.
Or, as Kai preferred to call it: The Building Where Hope Goes to Die.
The moment he kicked open the double doors to the main conference room, every conversation stopped dead. Waiting for him was a formidable welcoming committee.
Siris sat nearest the front of the massive mahogany table. The middle-aged chief administrator managed to look entirely exhausted and flawlessly professional simultaneously, a stack of ledgers resting precariously in front of him. Beside him sat the various heads of the division departments: Artifact Research, Development Engineering, Transportation Projects, and Communication Technology. A stern-faced Rune Knight representative rounded out the group.
All of them were armed to the teeth with paperwork.
Kai took one look at the mountain of documents and seriously considered walking right back out the door. Unfortunately, Siris locked eyes with him first.
The room stood in unison. "Director." "Sir." "Welcome back."
Kai marched over and dropped heavily into the grand central chair, propping his boots up on the polished wood. "You've assembled quite the welcoming committee, Stiffy. Missing me that much?"
Siris adjusted his spectacles, ignoring the nickname. His expression remained a perfect mask of bureaucratic suffering. "I felt it was entirely necessary, Director."
"Why?"
"Because you disappeared into an uncharted, forbidden ruin for three consecutive months."
"A minor technicality."
"You also missed thirty-seven mandatory budget and oversight meetings."
"I thought they were optional," Kai said innocently.
"You signed exactly zero of your department's authorization reports, leaving our entire supply line frozen."
"I forgot, I guess," Kai replied, entirely devoid of shame.
Siris stared, his eyes narrowing into slits behind his lenses. Kai stared back, unblinking, a lazy smirk playing on his lips.
Eventually, Kai let his boots drop to the floor with a heavy thud. "Fine. Give me the short version."
One by one, the division heads began to speak. Reports, funding requests, communication lacrima proposals, and transportation logistics washed over him—the mundane, clunky gears of the Kingdom of Fiore. Kai listened with deceptive intensity. Despite his arrogant posture, his mind effortlessly cataloged every detail, automatically highlighting the structural flaws in their math and the blatant inefficiencies in their proposed rune arrays.
That was his true curse, really. He acted like he didn't care, but his brain absolutely refused to let mediocrity slide.
Eventually, his sharp gaze settled on the rigid Rune Knight. "And you?"
The knight stood, placing a hand over his breastplate. "His Majesty King Toma requests your immediate presence in the royal court regarding the magical anomalies discovered in the ruins."
Kai suppressed an internal groan. Naturally.
Then came the inevitable. The Head of Artifact Research hesitated, his eyes darting nervously toward Kai's forearms. "Sir... if I may."
"Hm?"
"The runes. On your arms."
Every gaze in the room shifted. The faint, intricate glowing markings were clearly visible beneath his rolled-up sleeves, pulsing with an ancient hum. A heavy silence descended on the room.
Kai looked down at his arms, then looked back up, deadpan. "It's a birthmark."
The entire room stared at him. Nobody believed him, but nobody dared to call him a liar to his face, either.
Kai clapped his hands together once, the sharp sound echoing in the quiet room. "Excellent. Since we're completely done here, all of you get out. Leave the reports."
Nobody moved for a second, paralyzed by the sudden shift in energy.
"That wasn't a polite suggestion," Kai added, his voice dropping an octave.
The room emptied with terrifying speed. Chairs scraped against the floor as division heads scrambled for the exit. Only Siris remained behind for a brief moment, offering Kai a long, knowing look of absolute exhaustion before bowing his head and departing, closing the heavy doors behind him.
The moment the latch clicked, Kai leaned his head back against the leather chair and stared blankly at the ceiling.
Peace. Finally.
He let out a long, heavy breath, rubbing his temples. Sometimes he genuinely wondered why so many people needed him to do their thinking for them. Can't they just do their jobs without bothering me with useless trivia?
But deep down, he knew the harsh truth. If they did do it themselves, he would be the absolute first person to reject their work. He didn't trust their metrics, he hated their shortcuts, and he would spot a hundred fatal flaws in their blueprints within five seconds of looking at them.
If you want something done right, you have to be the one holding the wrench. Being a competent adult was truly a tragedy.
He enjoyed the absolute silence for approximately six seconds.
Then, the heavy oak doors to his office didn't just open—they burst inward with a resounding slam that rattled the hinges.
Kai's left eye twitched violently.
There were very few people in the entire Kingdom of Fiore who possessed the sheer audacity to enter his private office without knocking. One was the King himself. Another was a high-ranking Rune Knight Commander with an emergency warrant.
The final individual was significantly more dangerous than both combined.
A vibrant flash of emerald green entered his peripheral vision. Kai immediately braced for impact.
Princess Hisui E. Fiore smiled brightly, her eyes sparkling with uncontained energy. "Kai!"
Before he could even attempt an escape maneuver, she crossed the room in a blur, throwing her arms tightly around his neck. "You're finally back! Do you have any idea how boring it's been around here?"
Kai let his arms hang limply at his sides, sighing deeply into the fabric of her royal gown. "Your Highness. Please."
Hisui pulled back, huffing lightly but keeping her hands on his shoulders. "And I've told you a thousand times to stop calling me that when we're alone."
"And I've told you a thousand times to stop treating my office doors like a battering ram."
"An impossible request," she declared triumphantly.
Kai rolled his eyes and looked past her toward the open doorway. Standing in the hall was Arcadios, the Captain of the Cherry Blossom Holy Knights. The seasoned warrior wore the distinct, hollow expression of a man who had long since accepted that his official job description included 'accomplice to royal chaos.' The captain offered Kai a weary, deeply apologetic shrug.
Kai let out a low groan, sinking further into his chair.
Surviving ancient, trap-laden ruins and slaying mythical guardians had been an absolute cakewalk compared to surviving the whims of the Princess of Fiore. And judging by the wicked, plotting smile currently spreading across Hisui's face—his day was only just beginning.