"I… I…"
Bubbles tried to answer, only to falter midway, his breath catching again.
"I was also transferred… to the Banjo division… I saw you earlier… with Lord Nemesio…" Each fragment came slower than the last, dragged out between labored inhales. "…but I couldn't catch up… and you didn't hear me either…"
His arms trembled where they rested, the strength in them finally giving way. They slipped from his knees without warning, and his body followed, dropping unceremoniously to the ground.
"Hahh…! Haaah…!"
Ragged breaths tore from his chest as he lay there, completely spent, the effort of simply arriving having drained whatever energy remained.
Jurgen dragged a hand down his face, exhaling through his nose as though the day itself had begun to grate on him.
"Good grief…"
Without sparing another glance, he turned and continued walking, already pushing through the flow of movement around the Corps grounds.
"Where are you going?" Bubbles called after him, his voice still slightly strained as he forced himself upright, wobbling once before steadying.
"Looking for a KRM guy… he's supposed to give us our uniforms," Jurgen replied flatly, his eyes scanning the vast structure and the constant movement of people ahead, as though searching for anything that might resemble direction.
…tch… of all times for this, its getting dark already. We could've waited until morning.
His gaze drifted across the Corps again, lingering on the rigid expressions of those passing by.
No, seriously… are all the people here hard-faced.Not a single smile since I got here.
A faint memory flickered, brief, almost dismissible.
…apart from that weird dude.
He exhaled lightly through his nose and kept moving, cutting through the crowd until his attention landed on a girl with pigtails standing nearby, books pressed firmly against her chest.
He approached without hesitation.
"Hey… I'm Jurgen… Jurgen Einzelberht."
The girl turned slowly toward him, her grip tightening slightly on the thick, hard-covered books as her gaze swept over him with sharp, deliberate scrutiny from head to toe.
"I'm Ruby… how can I help you?"
Her voice was steady, composed, lacking warmth but carrying clear intent.
"Yeah… I'm looking for a guy called KRM. He's supposed to give us our uniforms."
Jurgen tilted his thumb casually over his shoulder, indicating Bubbles without even looking back.
Ruby's eyes shifted past him, briefly landing on Bubbles, who offered a small, awkward wave in return.
She paused.
Then, with absolute seriousness, she began.
"Just follow this path… go straight down, take a right, walk down, take a left, walk down…"
Jurgen's expression slowly tightened, his eyes narrowing as the instructions continued far longer than they reasonably should have.
She cant be serious…
"…Skip the first three shops you see, and that's it."
Her voice regained strength, finally ending the marathon of directions.
Jurgen took a slow breath, exhaling through his nose as he planted his hands on his waist, eyes fixed on the beginning of Ruby's elaborate directions.
This place is so big… so vast… man… well, I guess I'll just do it tomorrow.
"Yeah, and don't even think about doing it tomorrow."
Ruby's voice cut cleanly through his thoughts, sharp and immediate, as though she had been listening inside his head.
"KRM will be busy hunting waterflaws for the next six months… whatever that means."
Jurgen went completely still.
His expression flattened into total emptiness.
Blink.
Blink.
His gaze shifted once toward Ruby, then back to the path she had indicated, as though reconsidering the very concept of direction itself.
…this is definitely going to be a long night.
A quiet breath left him as he finally moved, accepting the inevitable.
Elsewhere, far removed from the bustle of the Corps, the night settled gently over the city of Mercedes.
On the highest point of the city, where stone met sky and a window should have existed but did not, Nemesio sat perched along the exposed ledge, the wind brushing lightly against his form as he gazed outward in silence.
"What is it now, old geezer?"
His voice carried without effort, calm and unhurried, his attention remaining entirely on the luminous sprawl below, streets glowing gold, lamps scattered like fallen stars, the entire city breathing beneath him.
A low laugh answered from behind, unbothered by the insult.
"My little Aurelius… iron head."
Another chuckle followed, deeper this time, as though the words themselves carried memory more than meaning.
"You damn old man… I've outgrown that name. How many times do I have to tell you?"
Nemesio's reply came without turning, steady and faintly amused.
"What a beautiful night… a breeze like this could put me to sleep in an instant."
Below them, Mercedes stretched endlessly, alive with light and movement, golden streets winding through districts like veins of fire, lanterns flickering softly as though the sky itself had descended to rest upon the city.
A cool breeze drifted across the heights, calm and unbroken, brushing lightly against the exposed ledge where Nemesio sat. For a moment, everything remained still—Mercedes glowing endlessly below, its golden streets flowing like veins of light through the darkness.
Then something changed.
Not in the wind. Not in the city.
But in the space itself.
A subtle tightening, so faint it would have gone unnoticed anywhere else, yet up here it carried presence.
A pause lingered before then his voice emerged from behind him, low and steady, weighted in a way that pressed gently against the air.
"That child… where did you meet him?"
Jovatis Truemann voice came low but serious, he stood quietly, his both hands resting atop his staff, gaze lowered as though the answer had already begun forming long before the question was spoken.
"You mean Jurgen?"
Nemesio did not turn. His eyes remained fixed on the glowing expanse below, unbroken and unbothered, as though the conversation had no power to pull him away from the sight of the city breathing beneath them.
"…Seems I'm not the only one interested in him."
The words were calm, almost casual, yet something beneath them acknowledged the shift in attention without resistance.
Silence followed.
Even with Mercedes alive in motion far below, the air above felt isolated, separated from the world it overlooked, as though this height belonged to something else entirely.
"He just feels… important," Nemesio continued, his voice measured, restrained. "Or perhaps… special in a way that does not sit comfortably with me. I cannot quite place it."
Another pause followed, heavier this time.
"That boy carries quite a legacy… a history, if I may put it so… if he is who I suspect."
Jovatis hands tightened faintly around the staff as his gaze drifted downward, the weight of memory surfacing without invitation.
For a moment, he said nothing.
"…I've felt something like that before."
The air shifted.
A flicker of warmth passed through the stillness, not physical, but remembered, like a fragment of another time bleeding into the present.
A man's laughter rose within it, bright and unrestrained, as though the world itself could not contain it. He sat upon a rock, coat flowing down to his ankles, a large cup of wine resting loosely in his hand. His smile was radiant, almost blinding in its ease, as if he had never known restraint.
"GRANDHERON SUNCHASER…"
The name left Jovatis' lips quietly, almost reverently.
"Who's that?"
Nemesio finally turned slightly, just enough for his gaze to settle on Jovatis, curiosity tempered with recognition.
"A friend of mine… from a long time ago."
Jovatis' grip on his staff tightened just enough to betray the memory's weight.
"He and that boy… share something."
His eyes lifted again, distant now, no longer seeing the city or the present moment.
"I noticed it at the Black Hall yesterday."
A faint stillness followed.
"They feel similar… but his sun is not quite as bright."
Nemesio exhaled softly, a hint of acknowledgment passing through his expression.
"Hmm… you are not wrong about that."
He turned his gaze back toward Mercedes, where the city continued to shine without awareness of the conversation suspended above it.
"Guide him well, Ironhead…"
A brief pause lingered.
"…lest he lose his shine in the long run."
Nemesio said nothing in return.
The silence held for a moment longer… then faded entirely, as though he had never been there at all.
And just like that, the air eased once more.