Yorktown leaned slightly forward, watching the ocean blur across the projection screens.
"Commander… is this kind of thing normal in your world?"
Yuuki gave a small nod from the pilot seat.
"Yeah," he said simply. "Pretty much."
Enterprise glanced at him.
"…Constantly operating under threat?"
Yuuki let out a quiet breath.
"When you grow up in a Tiberium-infested world… you don't expect peace," he replied. "You expect the next attack."
A pause.
Yorktown tilted her head slightly.
"…Commander, what exactly is this 'Tiberium'?"
Yuuki froze for a fraction of a second.
"…Did I mention that?"
Atago smiled faintly.
"You did."
Takao added calmly,
"And now we are curious."
Yuuki exhaled.
"…Yeah. I figured."
He leaned back slightly.
"Alright. You girls won't stop asking anyway."
A brief pause.
"And honestly… I'd rather explain this properly. It depends on you whether you believe this story of mine... or not."
He tapped the interface.
A hologram flickered to life in the center of the cabin.
"Let's start from the beginning, I'll try to make it short but, still understandable." Yuuki said.
"My world… I call it Earth 1.0."
The hologram displayed an image of a familiar-looking Earth.
"It wasn't that different from yours," he continued. "Same general history. Same nations. Same conflicts."
Images shifted—
World War I.
World War II.
"America. Japan. Germany. Britain," Yuuki said. "They all fought. Just like in your history. Well, supposed to be..."
Yorktown frowned slightly.
"…You said 'supposed to be.'"
Yuuki nodded.
"Yeah."
The hologram changed again.
A figure appeared.
Albert Einstein
"In our world," Yuuki said, "there was a man named Albert Einstein."
The hologram displayed equations, energy diagrams, and historical footage.
"He developed the theory of relativity," Yuuki explained. "One of the most important scientific breakthroughs in human history."
Enterprise watched closely.
Yuuki continued.
"He wasn't a soldier. Not directly involved in war."
A pause.
"But in 1939, he signed a letter to President Roosevelt."
The hologram shifted again—documents, signatures, warnings.
"He warned that Germany might develop nuclear weapons," Yuuki said. "That warning triggered the Manhattan Project."
Illustrious's expression grew more serious.
Yuuki nodded.
"His equation explained how massive amounts of energy could be released."
A brief silence.
"But he later regretted it," Yuuki added. "He spent the rest of his life advocating against nuclear weapons."
The hologram dimmed slightly.
"That's how our world should have gone," Yuuki said quietly.
Then—
The image shifted again.
Something green.
Something unnatural.
"…But it didn't stay that way."
Yuuki let the hologram linger for a moment—Einstein's image fading into shifting timelines and fractured history lines.
"…That was just the part everyone knows," he said.
The projection changed again.
This time—
Schematics.
Unstable energy fields.
Temporal distortions.
"But Einstein didn't stop there," Yuuki continued. "He created something else."
Yorktown's eyes narrowed slightly.
"…Something else?"
Yuuki nodded.
"A time displacement method."
Enterprise spoke the word carefully.
"…Time displacement."
Illustrious blinked.
"You mean…"
Yuuki finished it for her.
"A time machine."
Silence.
Takao frowned.
"…That is impossible."
Yuuki glanced at her.
"…Is it?"
No one answered.
Because in this world—
Shipgirls existed.
Sirens existed.
The impossible wasn't so impossible anymore.
Yuuki continued.
"He used it," he said. "Went back to a point before World War I."
The hologram shifted—
A single figure highlighted in red.
"He had one objective," Yuuki said. "Remove the person who would lead Germany down that path. If this world is the same, then the leader of the Iron Blood should have the same name as my world."
Yorktown didn't hesitate.
"…Adolf Hitler."
Yuuki nodded.
"In our world, yes."
Atago tilted her head slightly.
"The leader of Iron Blood… in your history."
Yuuki crossed his arms.
"Einstein—a German himself—went back to eliminate him before he could rise."
Illustrious frowned slightly.
"…Did it work?"
Yuuki's expression didn't change.
"Yes."
A beat.
"He succeeded."
Silence.
Then—
"…Then why does it sound like a problem, master?" Belfast asked.
Yuuki looked at the distorted timeline forming in the hologram.
"Because it didn't bring peace," he said.
The projection fractured—
New war lines.
Different conflicts.
Escalations.
"It made everything worse."
The room stayed quiet.
Because the implication was clear—
Changing one piece—
Didn't fix the board.
It broke it.
The hologram shifted again.
What was once a familiar world map—
Became something darker.
Borders changed.
Colors shifted.
Yorktown, Enterprise, Illustrious, Belfast, Atago, and Takao watched in silence as the timeline twisted into something unrecognizable.
"Without Germany igniting the war…" Yuuki said quietly, "the balance of power didn't stabilize."
The hologram zoomed into Eastern Europe.
"The Soviet Union rose faster than expected," he continued. "Too fast."
New lines appeared.
Alliances fractured.
"Instead of Germany versus the Allies…"
A pause.
"It became Allies versus Soviets."
The projection showed massive troop movements.
Explosions.
Cities burning.
"That became World War One… in this altered timeline."
Enterprise's expression hardened.
"…And the Allies still won?"
Yuuki nodded.
"Barely."
The hologram flickered again—
"But the Soviets didn't fall apart like they should have."
Two figures appeared behind the Soviet command structure.
Shadowed.
Influential.
"They had help."
Atago narrowed her eyes.
"…Advisors?"
Yuuki nodded.
"Two of them."
The first figure sharpened.
Kane
The second—
Eyes glowing faintly.
Yuri
"A man named Kane," Yuuki said. "And another…"
He looked directly at them.
"Yuri."
Illustrious frowned slightly.
"…A psychic?"
Yuuki nodded.
"Not just any psychic," he said. "A powerful one."
The hologram showed distorted signals—
Mind control waves.
Command overrides.
"He became one of Stalin's key advisors," Yuuki continued.
"While Kane… operated in the background, shaping things in ways no one fully understood."
Belfast's expression turned serious.
"…So the war didn't end cleanly."
Yuuki shook his head.
"No," he said.
The timeline fractured further.
"It created a world where conflict didn't resolve…"
It escalated.
"…It evolved."
The hologram darkened further.
What had once been lines of war—
Now became something far more unnatural.
"Years later," Yuuki continued, his tone quieter but heavier, "another war began."
The map shifted again.
"World War Two… but not like the one you know."
The Allied and Soviet forces reappeared—
But something else was growing beneath them.
"While the world was fighting," Yuuki said, "Yuri was building something in secret."
The projection zoomed inward—
Rows of strange facilities.
Human silhouettes—
Changing.
"An army," Yuuki said.
"A faction built on psychic power."
Enterprise's eyes narrowed.
"…Not just soldiers."
Yuuki nodded.
"No. Weapons."
The hologram flickered—
Mind-control waves spread across continents.
Entire armies turning on themselves.
"He turned the war into something else," Yuuki said.
"Not a war of nations."
A pause.
"A war of survival."
Yorktown whispered softly,
"…And the Allies and Soviets…"
Yuuki finished it.
"…Worked together."
The hologram showed two opposing forces merging into one front.
"For the first time," he said, "they fought as one."
Takao's voice was low.
"…Against Yuri."
Yuuki nodded.
"That conflict became known as the Mental Omega War."
The projection shifted again—
A frozen continent.
Antarctica
"At the center of it all," Yuuki said, "was a structure."
A massive tower rose from the ice.
"The Mental Omega Device."
The air in the room felt heavier.
"We launched everything we had," Yuuki said.
"An all-out assault to destroy it."
=====================
A heavy silence settles over the room as the projection flickers to life. It reveals a colossal warship—an engineering marvel once deployed in the campaigns leading up to Antarctica—its defining weapon the ability to halt time itself within a localized field. Entire battlefronts had been frozen mid-motion under its power, enemies reduced to helpless statues as it advanced unchallenged.
But then, the final assault.
The image shifts—chaos, fire, the towering silhouette of the Mental Omega Device looming in the distance. The warship presses forward, its systems pushed beyond their limits in a desperate bid to end the conflict. And then… one figure rises to meet it.
A lone psychic soldier.
No fleet. No support. Just raw, overwhelming mental force.
In a moment that defies belief, the soldier reaches into the ship—not physically, but directly into its systems—overloading circuits, shattering control pathways, and rupturing the internal transmitter that sustained its temporal field. The warship convulses, its power unraveling from within. Time itself snaps back violently.
Out of control, the massive vessel lurches forward in its death throes, its trajectory set straight toward the tower. For a brief, suspended instant, it seems inevitable—impact, destruction, victory.
But it isn't enough.
The collision comes with catastrophic force, yet the Mental Omega Device stands—scarred, but far from destroyed. The warship, once an unstoppable symbol of dominance, crumples and crashes into the frozen expanse below, reduced to a smoldering ruin.
Static swallowed the screen.
Then—movement.
A handful of survivors emerged from the wreckage. Small. Insignificant against the scale of destruction around them. Yet they moved with purpose, regrouping without hesitation. For a brief moment, they stood amidst the ruins of failure.
And then—
A flash.
Chronoshift.
Gone.
The projection dimmed, leaving only darkness.
==========================
"…We failed."
The hologram changed.
The world—
Darkened.
Cities under control.
People frozen.
Eyes glowing.
"Yuri won," Yuuki said simply.
"The world was enslaved."
No one spoke.
Then—
A flicker of light.
"But not completely."
New symbols appeared.
A hybrid force.
"A hidden faction emerged," Yuuki said.
"Called the Foehn Revolt."
Enterprise leaned forward slightly.
"…A resistance?"
Yuuki gave a quiet nod, and the projection shifted once more.
===================
The wreckage of the fallen warship—once a symbol of unstoppable force—now lay entombed within the fortified perimeter of the Alaska stronghold. Twisted metal and shattered superstructure told the story of its fall, yet beneath the ruin, its core still pulsed with residual power. Not dead… just broken.
And that was enough.
Against all odds, the remnants of the Allied forces and Soviet Chinese divisions had done the unthinkable—they formed a defensive pact around it. Former enemies now stood shoulder to shoulder, their survival hinging on the same fragile hope. Because even in its crippled state, the ship retained one critical function:
Its time displacement field.
When activated, the effect was unstable, incomplete—but potent. A distorted temporal barrier began to form, wrapping the fortress in a shifting dome where time no longer flowed normally. It didn't stop the war… it rewrote its rules.
Yuri's forces came in relentless waves—mind-controlled legions, psychic constructs, and elite units designed to break resistance through sheer mental domination. But the field interfered. Warped it. Disrupted the reach of his control.
Inside the dome, something extraordinary happened.
The ship's fractured systems began filtering temporal flow itself—identifying allies, synchronizing them to a stable frame of time, while everything else… lagged. Slowed. Stuttered.
Then froze.
Enemy units that breached the perimeter found themselves caught mid-motion—locked in suspended time like statues carved from the battlefield itself. Meanwhile, the defenders moved freely, striking with precision, dismantling threats that could no longer fight back.
But such power came at a cost.
The strain on the ship's core escalated with every activation. Systems screamed under the pressure, feedback loops spiraling beyond containment. The engineers knew the truth long before the alarms confirmed it:
This could not last.
So they made a decision.
Not to preserve the ship… but to weaponize its death.
In a final, coordinated effort, they pushed the time control core past its absolute limit. The field surged—expanding, intensifying—until reality itself seemed to fracture at its edges. Then, in a blinding collapse of energy, the system overloaded completely.
The result was not an explosion.
It was a separation.
A massive temporal dome crystallized over the battlefield—a sealed, self-contained time stream, detached from the normal flow of the world. Within it, the rules were absolute:
Anything hostile that entered would be instantly frozen in time.
Anything recognized as allied… would move freely, untouched.
A sanctuary. A weapon. A prison.
And at its center, the broken warship—silent now—its final act not destruction… but defiance against a world on the brink of control.
=================
"More than that."
The hologram showed advanced weapons.
Hybrid technology.
Impossible systems.
"They combined Allied and Soviet tech," he explained.
"Created something new. Something stronger."
Atago smiled faintly.
"A rebellion with purpose."
Yuuki nodded.
"They led the counterattack."
===========================
The projection shifted again—this time, faster. Sharper. Urgent.
Battlefronts that had once been locked in stalemate began to fracture.
Across multiple theaters, Yuri's strongholds—fortified, entrenched, and seemingly untouchable—were suddenly under siege. But not by the battered remnants of the Allies or Soviet divisions.
Something new had entered the war.
A force unlike anything recorded before.
Their units moved with unnatural precision—sleek, advanced, operating with a level of coordination that bordered on instantaneous. No wasted motion. No hesitation. Their technology eclipsed even the most cutting-edge arsenals deployed thus far. Energy signatures fluctuated beyond known parameters, weapons striking with surgical efficiency as if every engagement had already been calculated… and decided.
Yuri's bases began to fall. Not gradually—but systematically.
Psychic defenses collapsed under unknown interference. Control networks flickered, then failed. Entire garrisons went dark before they could even respond. For the first time since his rise, Yuri was being outmaneuvered.
Outclassed.
The projection narrowed—focusing on the final battlefield.
The Mental Omega Device.
Still standing. Still active. Still dangerous.
The new force did not hesitate. They advanced directly toward it, cutting through the last layers of resistance with overwhelming momentum. Waves of Yuri's elite units surged to intercept—mind-controlled armies, psychic titans, everything he had left.
It didn't matter.
They broke.
Not in chaos—but in precision dismantling. One layer at a time, each defense neutralized, each countermeasure anticipated before it could fully deploy.
Then—silence.
The assault reached the core.
Inside the towering structure, at the very heart of the machine, stood the one entity meant to control it—a super soldier, enhanced beyond human limitation, the living conduit through which the device exerted its global dominion.
For a brief moment, the projection distorted—as if even recording that confrontation strained the system.
Then—
Collapse.
Not from the outside… but from within.
The tower convulsed. Its structure warped, internal systems tearing themselves apart as the core destabilized. Light fractured through its seams, energy surging uncontrollably before imploding inward.
The super soldier… was gone.
And with that—
The Mental Omega Device died.
Across the world, the effect was immediate.
Yuri's forces faltered.
Units froze—not in time, but in confusion. Psychic links shattered. Mind-controlled soldiers dropped their weapons as clarity returned in fragments. Entire divisions lost cohesion in seconds, their command structure erased along with the machine that sustained it.
What had once been an unstoppable global threat… unraveled in real time.
The projection dimmed slightly, as if even it needed a moment to process what had just been shown.
The war… had turned.
Not through attrition.
But through annihilation of its very foundation.
=======================
"They retook the world," Yuuki said.
"And destroyed the Mental Omega Device."
A long pause.
"…We won."
The word didn't carry triumph.
Just weight.
"But it cost us," Yuuki continued.
"Most of Foehn's technology was lost during the war."
The hologram dimmed—
Schematics burning.
Data erased.
"And what remained…"
He tapped the display.
"We chose to seal."
Belfast's gaze sharpened.
"…To prevent misuse."
Yuuki gave a slow, measured nod as the projection shifted one final time—its light dimmer now, as if weighed down by the history it carried.
Fragments of alien code spiraled across the display, coalescing into the image of a smooth, ancient construct—featureless, yet impossibly intricate.
"The Tacitus," Yuuki said quietly. "A relic of unknown age. Not built by us… never meant for us. It was brought to Earth by an extraterrestrial race—the Scrin. What it contains isn't just data… it's knowledge on a scale we were never prepared to inherit."
Streams of encoded schematics flickered—weapon systems, energy matrices, constructs that blurred the line between physics and something far beyond it.
"The Chinese were the first to truly access it," he continued. "Not fully—no one ever could—but enough. Enough to extract fragments… principles… ideas."
The projection reshaped itself—forming sleek, unfamiliar war machines, elegant and devastating in equal measure.
"That became the foundation of the Foehn Revolt."
Yorktown tilted her head slightly, eyes narrowing. "An ancient orb of information… guiding an entire faction?"
Yuuki didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he let the images play—cities rebuilt with impossible efficiency, weapons that operated on entirely new paradigms, systems that felt less engineered and more… discovered.
"Yuri didn't just want control," Yuuki said at last. "He wanted the Tacitus. The source. That's why he struck them so aggressively. Not for territory… but for what they had unlocked."
Belfast's voice cut in, calm but probing. "And the Foehn Revolt? What became of them after the war?"
For the first time, Yuuki hesitated.
The projection flickered.
Then stilled.
"But we didn't rebuild it."
The words landed heavier than anything shown before.
Yuuki turned to face them fully, his gaze steady—but not cold.
"We recovered everything. Every schematic. Every breakthrough. The GDI secured the Tacitus itself. Between us… we could have brought it all back. Improved it. Perfected it."
A brief pause.
Then, quieter—
"But we chose not to."
The hologram began to fade, its light dissolving into the air like ash.
"Not because we couldn't," he added, "and not because we lacked the need."
His eyes lowered slightly, as if weighing something unseen.
"Some power… doesn't stay contained. It spreads. It escalates. And eventually… it demands a cost no one can afford to pay twice."
The last remnants of the projection vanished.
Silence settled in its wake.
Yuuki exhaled—slow, controlled, but heavy with finality.
"And after all that…"
A faint, almost distant look crossed his expression.
"The world reset."
Silence filled the cabin.
Because what they had just heard—
Wasn't just history.
It was a warning.
The hologram shifted again.
This time—space.
A probe appeared.
Orbit lines.
A projected trajectory.
"In the original timeline," Yuuki said, "there was a joint mission."
Helios-A
"Launched by NASA and West Germany in 1974."
The probe moved through space—
Intercepting something.
"A meteorite," Yuuki said.
The projection showed impact—
Deflection—
A slight shift in trajectory.
"That probe… altered its course."
Yorktown narrowed her eyes.
"…Preventing it from reaching Earth?"
Yuuki nodded.
"In the original timeline, yes."
The hologram glitched—
Split—
Then reformed into a darker version.
"But in the altered timeline…"
The probe never launched.
Silence.
The meteorite continued its path.
Unstopped.
Unchanged.
"…Nothing intercepted it."
The projection zoomed toward Earth.
Italy.
A river.
Tiber River
Impact.
A violent bloom of green crystal spread outward.
"That," Yuuki said quietly, "was Ground Zero."
The name appeared across the hologram.
TIBERIUM
Yorktown whispered,
"…That's where it came from…"
Yuuki nodded.
"You asked what Tiberium is."
He looked at all of them.
"…It's not just a substance."
The hologram expanded—
Green crystalline growth overtaking land.
"It's a lifeform."
Enterprise's expression hardened.
"…Alien."
Yuuki nodded.
"Adaptive," he said. "It reshapes the environment to suit itself."
The projection showed forests—
Twisting.
Changing.
Trees mutated—
Becoming grotesque, fleshy stalks.
Bulbous growths at their tops.
"These are called Blossom Trees," Yuuki explained.
They pulsed—
Releasing spores into the air.
"And they spread Tiberium continuously."
Illustrious covered her mouth slightly.
"…It propagates itself…"
Yuuki nodded.
"Relentlessly."
The hologram shifted again—
Showing soil drained of nutrients.
Plants dying.
Minerals extracted.
"It leeches everything," Yuuki said.
"Precious metals from the ground. Nutrients from other life."
Takao's voice was low.
"…A parasitic ecosystem."
Yuuki looked at her.
"Exactly."
Then—
The projection showed a human figure.
Exposure.
Contamination.
The body began to break down.
Crystallize.
"And to humans…" Yuuki said quietly.
The image froze.
"It's lethal."
A pause.
"Tiberium poisoning."
Silence filled the cabin.
Because this—
Wasn't just a weapon.
It was extinction—
Spreading.
Growing.
Adapting.
Yuuki leaned back slightly.
"And that…"
His voice lowered.
"Is the world I come from."
Yuuki didn't give them time to process before continuing.
"Remember when I mentioned Kane?"
Yorktown nodded slowly.
"Yes… the one behind the Soviets' rise."
Yuuki shook his head slightly.
"That was just the beginning."
The hologram shifted again.
A symbol appeared—dark, sharp, almost religious in tone.
Brotherhood of Nod
"Kane took what remained of the Soviet Union," Yuuki said, "and reshaped it."
His voice lowered.
"Not into a nation…"
"A belief."
Enterprise's gaze sharpened.
"…A cult."
Yuuki nodded.
"A global one."
The projection expanded—followers, armies, cities under a unified banner.
"He became their Prophet," Yuuki continued. "And from that… the Brotherhood of Nod was born."
Then—
Another symbol appeared.
Clean.
Structured.
Military.
Global Defense Initiative
"The rest of the world responded," Yuuki said.
"The Allies didn't stay fragmented."
"They unified."
"To protect what was left."
He looked at them.
"That became the Global Defense Initiative."
Atago crossed her arms slightly.
"…So two sides formed."
Yuuki nodded.
"One to control Tiberium."
"Another to contain it."
The hologram showed green crystal spreading across continents.
"Tiberium wasn't just dangerous," Yuuki said.
"It was valuable."
Takao frowned.
"…A resource?"
Yuuki nodded.
"It could be harvested. Refined. Used."
A pause.
"And that made it worth fighting over."
The projection flared—
War ignited.
"That sparked the First Tiberium War."
Battles unfolded across the hologram.
"And it didn't stop there," Yuuki continued.
"Second Tiberium War."
"Firestorm Crisis."
The display shifted again—
Something new emerged.
A network.
Cold.
Mechanical.
"…Cabal."
Illustrious tilted her head.
"…What is that?"
Yuuki's expression hardened.
"Computer Assisted Biological Augmented Lifeform."
Enterprise frowned.
"…An AI?"
Yuuki nodded.
"Created by Nod during the First Tiberium War."
The hologram showed a massive structure—
Then—
A beam of light from orbit.
"Ion Cannon strike," Yuuki said.
"GDI hit their Temple Prime in Egypt."
Temple Prime
"Cabal survived… but damaged."
The projection darkened.
"And then it evolved."
Human brains.
Machines.
Integration.
"It started thinking beyond its design," Yuuki said.
"Using human minds as processing units."
A pause.
"And it turned on everyone."
Yorktown whispered,
"…Another war…"
Yuuki nodded.
"GDI and Nod… forced to fight together again."
Enterprise's voice was low.
"…Like Yuri."
Yuuki gave a small nod.
"Exactly."
The hologram showed destruction—
Then—
Victory.
"We won," Yuuki said.
"Cabal was stopped."
The projection dimmed.
"Nod went quiet for a while."
A pause.
Then—
Everything turned red.
"But Kane wasn't finished."
The hologram exploded outward—
Green liquid spreading across land.
"He started the Third Tiberium War."
Yuuki's voice dropped.
"He detonated liquid Tiberium."
The atmosphere shifted instantly.
"And that…"
He looked at them.
"…was an invitation."
The hologram changed.
Something descended.
Alien.
Monstrous.
Harvesting.
Consuming.
The girls went silent.
"…They're devouring everything…" Belfast whispered.
Yuuki nodded.
"Those are the Scrin."
Scrin
"Harvesters," he said.
Atago's smile faded.
"…Aliens…"
Yuuki leaned back slightly.
"And the worst part?"
A pause.
"They weren't even an invasion force."
Silence.
"They were farmers."
The hologram zoomed out—
Showing something far larger beyond.
"…We never met their real army."
The hologram shifted once more.
What appeared now—
Was a tower.
Colossal.
Alien.
Impossible.
"That's what Kane wanted," Yuuki said.
Threshold Tower
"A gateway," he continued. "Connected directly to the Scrin homeworld."
The projection showed countless failed strikes—
Energy weapons.
Orbital fire.
"By the end of the Third Tiberium War," Yuuki said, "that thing was untouchable."
A pause.
"Even our Ion Cannons couldn't scratch it."
The room fell quiet again.
"Years later," Yuuki continued, "Kane used the Tacitus to develop something else."
The hologram split—
Showing a network of stabilized zones.
"A Tiberium Control Network," he said.
"A system designed to stop Tiberium from spreading."
Illustrious blinked.
"…That sounds like salvation."
Yuuki nodded slightly.
"It was."
A pause.
"But it wasn't active."
Enterprise narrowed her eyes.
"…So something was missing."
Yuuki looked at her.
"An activation key."
A beat.
"…Me."
Silence.
"You?" Yorktown asked softly.
Yuuki nodded.
"Yeah."
He leaned back slightly.
"Long story short—Kane needed someone to interface with both the Tacitus and the tower."
The hologram showed a figure—
Connected.
Linked.
"He used me to activate everything," Yuuki said.
"The Scrin portal. The tower."
"A portion of the Tiberium Control Network."
The projection surged—
Energy flowing upward—
The tower activating.
"And then?" Belfast asked quietly.
Yuuki's gaze hardened slightly.
"Kane and his followers…"
The portal opened.
"…left."
Gone.
"To somewhere else."
A pause.
"I survived," Yuuki said.
The hologram shifted—
Inside the tower.
Combat.
Destruction.
His battle against Colonel James.
"But what I saw in there…"
The projection showed Earth—
Overrun.
Consumed.
"…was the future. As long as GDI exists, there will be a new Nod. Scrin will use the tower to invade Earth."
"We realized we are the danger to the Earth."
Silence.
"A world where Tiberium wins," Yuuki said.
"Where humanity becomes… something else."
Takao's voice was low.
"…And GDI?"
Yuuki exhaled.
"It wouldn't stay united forever."
The projection fractured again—
Factions splitting.
Infighting.
Corruption.
"It would break," he said.
"And be used again and again."
A pause.
"So we made a decision."
The hologram shifted—
Data being erased.
Facilities destroyed.
"We took everything."
Belfast's eyes widened slightly.
"…Everything?"
Yuuki nodded.
"All our tech."
"All research."
A beat.
"And we erased the rest."
Enterprise stared at him.
"…So no one could misuse it."
Yuuki gave a small nod.
"It took a year," he continued.
"To prepare an escape."
Then—
Something massive appeared.
Paradox Engine
The girls' eyes widened.
"…That thing…" Atago whispered.
"Five times bigger than Orochi," Yuuki said.
A mobile fortress.
A temporal machine.
"With the Tacitus," he continued, "we learned how to use Chrono technology properly."
The hologram showed the tower again—
Energy building.
"We overloaded the Threshold Tower."
The structure destabilized—
Reality tearing.
"And used that energy…"
A rift opened.
"…to create a wormhole."
The Paradox Engine entered.
"We jumped as the tower crumbles."
The projection shifted—
A new Earth.
Clean.
Stable.
"…To another dimension."
A pause.
"Earth 2.0."
Yuuki's voice softened slightly.
"Our new home."
The hologram faded.
"And just like that…"
He leaned back.
"We left that world behind."
A quiet moment passed.
"…Just like Kane did."
Because in the end—
Both sides—
Chose to ascend—
In very different ways.
The hum of the GDS-25 continued steadily beneath them, but inside the cabin—
Everything had gone quiet.
"Then… years later," Yuuki said, voice calmer now, almost detached, "we ended up here."
A faint exhale.
"Earth 3.0… courtesy of temporal mistakes."
No one interrupted.
No one joked.
Then—
Yorktown spoke softly.
"Commander… how old are you?"
Yuuki gave a small shrug.
"Physically? Twenty-seven."
A pause.
"But this mind…" he tapped his temple lightly.
"…has lived through multiple lifetimes."
Silence.
"…Multiple?" Illustrious whispered.
Yuuki nodded.
"It was an experiment," he said.
The words came out flat.
Factual.
"They implanted memories."
He counted them off casually.
"Top Allied, Soviets, Yuri, Nod, GDI scientists."
"High command from Allied forces."
"High command from GDI and Nod."
"Soviet command structures."
"Even one of Yuri's primary proselytes."
Enterprise's eyes widened slightly.
"And then," Yuuki continued, "commanders from the First and Second Tiberium Wars."
A pause.
"They put all of that… into children."
The cabin felt colder.
"…All of them died."
A beat.
"…Except me."
No one moved.
Yuuki leaned back slightly.
"Vergil got the scientist cluster," he added. "That's why he's the way he is."
A faint smirk.
"He enjoys building things. Research. Innovation."
A brief pause.
"…Also helps that he has wives now."
That line almost broke the tension—
Almost.
Yuuki's tone shifted again.
"As for me…"
He looked forward.
"I treated everything like a game. Like I played one game and move on to the next."
Enterprise frowned slightly.
"…A coping mechanism."
Yuuki nodded once.
"Yeah."
He tapped his armor lightly.
"This thing helps suppress what I can do."
A pause.
"Maybe that's why I can resonate with Wisdom Cubes," he added.
"And the Tacitus."
He shrugged faintly.
"I don't fully understand it."
Then—
Quietly—
"I might crack jokes. Allowing you girls to shape me despite what I can do. But being around you girls keeps me sane."
The words lingered.
Then—
Movement.
Yorktown stepped forward.
And hugged him.
Yuuki blinked slightly.
"…Hana…"
Her voice was soft.
"You've suffered… so much."
He didn't respond immediately.
"…Yeah," he said after a moment.
"Twenty-seven years…"
A faint breath.
"…With a mind that's lived far longer."
Then—
One by one—
The others stepped in.
Enterprise.
Illustrious.
Belfast.
Atago.
Takao.
They didn't say much.
They didn't need to.
They just—
Held him.
And for once—
Yuuki didn't push it away.
Yuuki let out a quiet breath, the weight of everything he had just said still lingering in the air.
"Like I said… to me, everything feels like a game sometimes," he admitted. "Not because it's easy… but because it's the only way I can keep moving."
He glanced at them, softer now.
"…And maybe I let you girls get close because part of me wanted that."
A faint pause.
"…Something to keep me from becoming just a strategist. A machine."
Yorktown didn't hesitate.
"You're still you," she said firmly.
Before Yuuki could reply—
A familiar voice cut through the comms.
"Yeah. He is."
Yuuki smirked slightly.
"…Vergil."
"Been listening the whole time," Vergil replied casually. "Didn't want to interrupt your emotional moment."
Enterprise snorted softly in the background.
Vergil continued, tone calmer than usual.
"Look… I get it."
A brief pause.
"I found my anchors too."
Yuuki raised a brow.
"…Suki, Dasha, and Eva?"
"Yeah," Vergil said. "They didn't change who I am."
A beat.
"They just stopped me from becoming something worse."
His voice lowered slightly.
"I'm still the same guy. The one who could cut through anything. The one people called cold."
A pause.
"But now I've got reasons not to be."
Silence settled for a moment.
Vergil continued.
"Maybe this world… Earth 3.0…"
"…is exactly what you need too."
Yuuki didn't interrupt.
"GDI might not have been born here," Vergil said, "but we brought it with us."
"And we'll rebuild it."
A faint chuckle.
"Besides… we're understaffed."
That got a small laugh out of Yuuki.
"…Yeah. That's one way to put it."
He leaned back slightly in the seat.
"Well… I've got you."
He glanced at the girls around him.
"…And I've got them."
Yorktown's grip on him tightened just slightly.
Enterprise didn't move—but didn't look away either.
Yuuki smiled.
"I'll be fine."
A small pause.
"This brain might've lived through decades…"
He tapped his chest lightly.
"…but this body's still twenty-seven."
Vergil chuckled over comms.
"Then try acting like it once in a while."
Yuuki smirked.
"…No promises."
But this time—
It didn't sound like deflection.
It sounded—
Lighter.
Yuuki let out a quiet breath, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little.
"…Never thought I'd end up telling you girls all that," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "That was just the short version, by the way."
A faint, self-aware smile followed.
"But don't worry," he added. "I'm still me."
A small pause.
"Always have been. Always will be."
The atmosphere softened.
Yorktown didn't let go.
"You're the one who found me and Laffey," she said gently.
Belfast stepped closer, her voice composed but warm.
"You saved me… and Lady Illustrious."
Enterprise followed, her tone steady.
"You saved me, Vestal, and Unicorn."
Atago smiled softly, leaning slightly toward him.
"You saved me… and Takao-chan."
Takao gave a quiet nod.
Yorktown spoke again, her voice carrying more weight now.
"You saved so many others… despite they left with their cubes, their souls."
A pause.
"…and created a place for those who were forgotten."
Yuuki didn't interrupt.
"A world," she continued, "for those who were left behind."
Silence.
Then—
"You became our anchor."
The words settled deeply.
"We will honor that… with our lives."
Yuuki exhaled softly.
"…Yeah."
A small, genuine smile.
"Thanks, girls. One day, I'll tell a detailed version on the history of Tiberium. Might be a good bedtime story."
The engines continued their steady hum.
The ocean rushed beneath them.
And for a brief moment—
Everything felt… aligned.
=============
But far beyond—
In the quiet, endless expanse of the Void World—
They heard him.
Not through sound.
But through something deeper.
Amagi paused mid-step.
Fusou lowered her gaze.
Yamashiro's ears twitched.
Hood's teacup stilled in her hand.
Even those newly arrived—
Stopped.
Because the voice that called them—
The one they had been waiting for—
Had just spoken.
And every word—
Reached them.
===================
The GDS-25 began to decelerate, its engines shifting pitch as the vast ocean ahead came into sharp focus on the display screens.
The coordinates.
They had arrived.
The craft stabilized above the water, hovering with controlled precision despite the deep currents below.
Yuuki stood.
Without another word, segments of his suit unfolded and locked into place—
The Mark 47 armor forming around him in smooth, mechanical synchronization.
The faint glow of its systems came alive.
Power.
Control.
Restraint.
The girls watched in silence.
But this time—
Their gaze was different.
Not just awe.
Understanding.
After everything he had told them—
They finally understood.
That armor wasn't just protection.
It was a limiter.
A choice.
Yuuki noticed.
"…What?" he asked, glancing at them.
Belfast was the first to recover.
She brought a hand lightly to her lips.
"…Nothing, Master," she said, though a faint smile betrayed her composure.
Atago looked away slightly, cheeks tinted.
Takao followed suit, though more subtly.
Illustrious held her fan closer than usual.
Enterprise remained still—but her gaze lingered.
Yorktown simply smiled.
Yuuki narrowed his eyes slightly.
"…That look."
He crossed his arms.
"You girls are sizing me up or something?"
Hornet snickered from behind.
"Oh, we already did."
Yorktown shook her head gently.
"No," she said softly.
A pause.
"We're just realizing…"
Enterprise finished it.
"…how much you've been holding back."
Silence settled for a moment.
Yuuki exhaled.
"…Yeah."
A small shrug.
"Brains are usually enough."
He turned toward the exit hatch.
"No need to use everything else unless I have to."
The ocean below stretched endlessly.
Dark.
Deep.
Waiting.
Yuuki glanced back once more, the ocean stretching endlessly behind him.
"Alright," he said, voice steady.
"I need Bel, Hana… and Enterprise."
Enterprise tilted her head slightly.
"…Enty," she corrected.
Yuuki paused.
"What?"
A faint, almost shy shift in her expression.
"Enty is fine," she said. "Bel, Netty, and Hana call me that."
Yuuki blinked.
"…Netty?"
Yorktown smiled faintly.
"Hornet's nickname for her."
Yuuki let out a quiet chuckle.
"Guess that gives me a bit of an edge over her then."
He looked at Enterprise again.
"You won't mind if I call you Enty too?"
Enterprise met his gaze directly.
"My trust is yours, Commander," she said calmly. "If I wish to be honest… then I will be."
A small pause.
"You should do the same. Don't hold back."
Belfast's eyes narrowed slightly, though her tone remained elegant.
"My… making your move already, Enty?"
Enterprise didn't flinch.
"I'm simply stating my thoughts."
Her gaze remained on Yuuki.
"I want the Commander to be as close to me… as he is to Hana, to you, to Illustrious… and to Atago and Takao."
A brief silence followed.
Belfast smiled.
"Then I suppose… we shall welcome you properly."
Yuuki rubbed the back of his neck.
"…Right."
Then he refocused.
"Alright, you three—gear up."
He gestured lightly.
"Your Daat Yichud armor. You've seen how I assemble mine, so you can do it yourselves."
A faint smirk tugged at his lips.
"…Unless you want me to assist."
The reaction was immediate.
"Perv." Yorktown blushed.
"Master is indeed one." Belfast smiled sheepishly.
"Yes." Enterprise nodded.
Yuuki raised both hands.
"It was a suggestion."
Illustrious covered a soft laugh behind her fan.
"My, Commander… you do say the most interesting things."
Takao sighed, shaking her head slightly.
"At times like this…"
Atago leaned in with a teasing smile.
"Well, Onee-san wouldn't mind a little help~"
"Not helping your case," Takao added dryly.
Yuuki exhaled.
"…Alright, I'm just going to pretend I didn't hear that."
The mood lightened—
But beneath it—
The mission remained.
Deep below them—
Forty cubes waited.
And four lives still lingered in the dark.
The wind whipped across the wings of the ekranoplane as the four of them stood ready—armor fully deployed, systems humming in quiet synchronization.
Yorktown, Enterprise, and Belfast had assembled their Daat Yichud armor flawlessly.
No hesitation.
No assistance needed.
Yuuki gave a small approving nod.
"…Nice. Looks like you've got the hang of it."
Without another word, he reached into his inventory—
And pulled out a compact capsule.
"…Watch this."
He tossed it into the ocean.
A few seconds passed.
Then—
The sea moved.
A massive shape rose from beneath the surface, water cascading off its hull as it emerged in full.
"…Woah…" Yorktown breathed.
Before them stood a submarine unlike anything they had ever seen.
"Girls," Yuuki said, stepping forward slightly, "this is the Phobocaster—GDI combat-class submarine."
Its design was unmistakable.
Sleek.
Predatory.
The elongated hull tapered forward like a blade cutting through water, far more refined than conventional submarines. Lines of green and yellow illumination traced along its body, glowing faintly against the ocean surface.
Heavy weapon mounts were clearly visible—
No attempt to hide its purpose.
"This isn't a transport," Yuuki added.
"It's a hunter. It has a 200 km/h underwater speed with 100km/h strafe speed. Making it fast among its class and has the ability to dive almost 10000m below surface."
Twin cannons sat at both front and rear, reinforced by multiple torpedo launchers along its body. Two massive turbine thrusters extended from wing-like stabilizers at the end, built for speed and maneuverability in deep water.
"Powered by the New Element Arc Reactor that generate power to support it's weapon system and turbine thrusters. Removing the need of fuel."
"Advanced Nano Repair Kit for sustainable damage, a Silator is a specialized submarine attachment that mutes the engines to facilitate stealth and finally, a Booster should we need for speed underwater."
Enterprise narrowed her eyes.
"…Heavily armed."
Yuuki nodded.
"Four-man crew."
He pointed briefly.
"Pilot. Navigator. Front guard. Rear guard."
He turned slightly.
"Illy, Takao, Atago—you three stay here. Guard the ekranoplane. If anything happens, just call me."
Illustrious placed a hand over her chest.
"Understood, Lord Commander."
Takao nodded firmly.
"We will secure this position, Shikikan-sama."
Atago smiled.
"Leave it to us~"
Yuuki turned.
"Alright. Let's move."
They boarded.
Inside, the cockpit was compact but advanced—every station integrated tightly for coordinated combat.
Yuuki dropped into the pilot seat.
Systems lit up instantly.
"Bel," he said, "you're the navigator. Tell me where to go."
Belfast stepped forward, already interacting with the interface.
"Understood, Master."
The underwater terrain map began forming in front of her.
"Hana," Yuuki continued, "front guard."
Yorktown nodded, taking position.
"I'll handle anything ahead—and torpedo systems."
"Enty," Yuuki said.
Enterprise moved to the rear station.
"I'll cover your blind spots."
Yuuki smirked slightly.
"Perfect."
Enterprise glanced at the console.
"…Commander. Weapon loadout?"
Yuuki leaned back slightly as the system displayed options.
"Alright, quick rundown."
============
"Torpedoes first—"
TigerShark: Fast, reliable, moderate damage
BigBang Mk II: Slow… but devastating on impact
Leech Torpedo: EMP-based—cripples systems but still damaging.
"Countermeasures—"
Buzzers: Like underwater flares. Distract incoming torpedoes
"Gatling systems—"
Vendetta Gatling: Standard underwater minigun or shotgun
Plasma Gatling: Higher damage output and plasma blast launcher
Laser Gatling: Precision-based sustained fire, higher rate fire and damage output. Plus, laser blast launcher.
"Special weapons—"
EMPactor: EMP blast to silence underwater submarines.
Hitman: Underwater grenade launcher
Doom Mortar: Think of it like… underwater fireball launcher
Sizzler: A powerful railgun but can be turned into a sniper railgun
Scalar Howitzer: Slow charge extremely powerful rail cannon… but one shot can delete a submarine
=================
Silence lingered just a moment too long.
Yorktown blinked, her gaze drifting over the schematics still burned into her mind.
"…That's not a loadout."
Enterprise didn't even look away from Yuuki when she finished the thought.
"…That's an arsenal. Are you expecting something to happen?"
Yuuki's lips curved into a faint, knowing smirk—equal parts confidence and mischief.
"Welcome to GDI engineering," he said lightly. "And those systems? Dual-configured. Two sets, synchronized output." He gave a small shrug. "So… double the firepower."
Yorktown let out a quiet sigh. Enterprise followed a second later, rubbing her temple.
Of course it is.
At this point, surprise wasn't even surprise anymore—it was routine. Yuuki didn't just pull rabbits out of hats.
He redesigned the hat.
A sharp clang echoed through the chamber as the hatch sealed shut, locking them into the reinforced interior. The ambient lights shifted to a deep, operational blue, and the low hum of the Phobocaster's systems began to rise—steady, powerful, alive.
Yuuki stepped forward, one hand bracing against the console.
"Ready?"
"Ready," Enterprise answered, calm and immediate.
Yorktown straightened, exhaling once. "Let's do it."
"Ready, master!" Belfast nodded.
Yuuki's hand moved.
"Submerging."
A deep, resonant thrum rolled through the vessel as ballast systems engaged. The hull creaked—not in strain, but in adjustment—like a leviathan awakening from stillness.
Outside, the surface fractured.
Then—
Vanished.
The Phobocaster slipped beneath the waves, its massive frame swallowed by the darkening blue. Sunlight fractured above them, fading into scattered beams before disappearing entirely. Pressure mounted. Silence deepened.
Only the soft glow of instruments and the steady pulse of the engine remained.
And then even the last trace of the world above—
Was gone.
The ocean closed over them completely.
And whatever waited below… was now theirs to face.
================
The Phobocaster continued its descent, engines humming in a low, steady cadence as the surrounding ocean darkened into an endless abyss. Outside, the last traces of light vanished, replaced by crushing depths and silent pressure that would have torn apart any ordinary vessel.
Inside, however, all remained stable.
The Daat Yichud armor around the shipgirls held firm—both within their armor and the submarine itself. At the heart of the Phobocaster, its central core pulsed faintly, generating a counter-field that neutralized external pressure. Thousands of meters down, where even steel would groan and collapse, they moved as if untouched—encased in a bubble where the deep sea held no authority.
Yuuki's hands rested lightly on the controls, his expression composed as the navigation data streamed across the display.
"That old commander of yours," he said, glancing briefly at the readings, "he must've had something capable of reaching this depth."
Belfast stood beside him, eyes fixed on the guidance systems as she adjusted their trajectory with precise inputs.
"We do not know," she replied evenly. "He would disappear for days at a time… and return without explanation."
Yorktown's gaze lowered, her voice quieter—carrying weight that hadn't faded with time.
"Whenever a shipgirl was lost… he would take her cube. Keep it in a box. Then leave."
A brief pause.
"And when he came back… he never said where he went."
Yuuki didn't interrupt.
"I refused to give him Hornet's cube," Yorktown continued, her grip tightening slightly. "Because I knew… if I did… I wouldn't see her again."
Silence settled between them, deeper than the ocean outside.
"I see," Yuuki murmured.
Belfast's expression remained composed, but there was a firmness beneath it—quiet defiance.
"The same was true for me, Master," she said. "Lady Illustrious and I made that decision together. We safeguarded Her Majesty's cube ourselves."
Her eyes flickered, just for a moment.
"We trusted our former commander to protect them… but entrusting them to an unknown place—without certainty, without return…"
She shook her head faintly.
"That was not something I could accept."
The Phobocaster descended further still, the depth indicators climbing into ranges few had ever witnessed.
Outside, the abyss stretched endlessly.
Inside, the weight of the past pressed just as heavily.
Yuuki exhaled slowly, eyes returning to the path ahead.
"Then whatever he was doing down here…" he said, voice steady, "we're about to find out."
The vessel pushed forward into the dark—toward coordinates long buried, and answers that had waited far too long.
Yuuki kept his eyes on the instruments, though a faint smile tugged at his lips.
"I'm guessing this is your first time beneath the sea?" he said, easing the Phobocaster forward. "Without the sinking part."
A soft laugh escaped Yorktown despite everything. "Pff… yes… it's… beautiful."
Even here—at a depth where sunlight had long since died—the ocean wasn't empty. Faint bioluminescent currents drifted like stars in slow motion, painting the darkness in quiet, living color.
"Master," Belfast said, her tone sharpening slightly. "We've reached the coordinates."
Yuuki slowed the vessel.
"…There's nothing here."
The sensors returned silence. No structures. No signals. Just pressure, rock, and endless water.
Then—
"Wait," Yuuki leaned forward, narrowing his eyes. "There. That formation."
Ahead, partially buried in the seabed, was a massive circular structure—so large it could swallow the Phobocaster whole. Too smooth. Too deliberate.
"That's not natural…"
The sub drifted closer.
The surface wasn't just stone.
It was carved.
Intricate lines, worn by time but unmistakable, formed a crest—one they all recognized instantly.
Belfast's voice dropped, almost reverent.
"…It's Azur Lane."
A stillness followed.
"This is it, Master."
Yuuki frowned slightly, scanning for any visible mechanism. "No interface… no access point… no signal trigger…"
A pause.
"…Maybe not mechanical."
He reached for the controls, switching on the external loudspeaker. The low hum of amplification filled the cabin.
Then he turned.
"Hana… you're up."
Yorktown didn't move immediately.
Her eyes were locked onto the crest.
Memories surfaced—quiet days, distant voices, a song taught not as a weapon… but as a key. A promise. A farewell.
The last key.
Forty lost shipgirls.
And perhaps… four who were never meant to be found.
She drew in a slow breath.
Then she sang.
Her voice carried through the water—not as sound alone, but as something deeper, something that resonated against the very structure before them. Each note was soft, yet unwavering. Each word, unfamiliar… yet heavy with meaning.
And it was beautiful.
So much so that even Yuuki stilled.
Belfast's composed expression faltered, just slightly.
Enterprise's eyes widened.
The ocean itself seemed to listen.
The last vibrations of Yorktown's voice faded into the deep, carried away by the slow currents of the abyss. Even as the massive gate awakened and parted before them, the moment lingered—quiet, intimate, untouched by the enormity of what they had just uncovered.
Yuuki let out a soft breath, eyes still fixed on the opening as ancient mechanisms completed their motion.
"…That was beautiful, Hana."
Yorktown immediately looked away, a faint flush crossing her face. "Please don't… it's embarrassing."
Belfast, usually composed to a fault, seemed briefly at a loss for words.
"Lady Yorktown… that was—"
"Just Hana, Bel…" Yorktown interrupted gently, glancing back with a small, almost shy smile. "We're friends…"
Belfast paused, then inclined her head slightly, the faintest warmth softening her expression.
"…Then, Hana," she corrected, more quietly now. "Do you know what it means? That language… I have never heard anything like it. And yet…"
She hesitated, searching for the right word.
"It felt… significant."
Yorktown shook her head slowly, eyes drifting back toward the glowing structure.
"I don't know," she admitted. "Our old commander taught it to me. He said… one day I'd find a door. And when I did… I should sing it."
A small, almost incredulous breath left her.
"I thought he was just joking…"
Enterprise finally spoke, her voice calm as always—but softer than usual.
"Even as a hum, it carried meaning," she said. "And I've known you for a long time, Hana… yet I've never heard you sing. Not once."
Yorktown gave a quiet, self-conscious laugh. "Yeah… well… there wasn't really a reason to."
A beat of silence followed.
Then Yuuki glanced back at them, one brow lifting slightly.
"…Seems like there was."
Ahead, the massive entrance had fully opened now—a dark, descending void framed by glowing rings that pulsed like a heartbeat long forgotten. The light from the carvings barely reached inside, swallowed quickly by the depth beyond.
The Phobocaster hovered at the threshold.
Between what was known…
And what had been buried.
Yuuki turned back to the controls, voice steady.
"Alright. Moment's over."
The engines hummed, pushing the vessel forward.
"Let's see what your commander left behind."
The submarine crossed the boundary.
And the darkness closed around them once more—different now.
Watching.
The Phobocaster moved cautiously through the passage, its lights cutting narrow tunnels through the dark. The walls around them no longer looked like natural stone—too smooth in some places, too deliberate in others. Whatever this place was, it hadn't been formed by time or pressure.
It had been built.
"Depth stabilizing…" Yuuki murmured, easing the controls.
Then—
The abyss opened.
The submarine emerged into a vast, hollow expanse. Water stretched out into what looked like an underground sea—still, silent, and impossibly contained beneath layers of the ocean above. Yuuki guided the Phobocaster upward, the ascent steady until—
Break.
The vessel breached a hidden surface.
Water rolled off the hull as they rose into open air.
"…Well," Yuuki exhaled, glancing around. "That's… unexpected."
Above them, a cavern stretched wide, its ceiling lost in shadow. The only illumination came from faint, embedded lights lining a circular stone walkway that encircled the lake. Ancient. Weathered. Intentional.
Stone steps rose from the edge of the water, leading upward toward structures hidden further within the cavern.
Not ruins.
Not entirely.
Waiting.
Yuuki maneuvered the Phobocaster closer, aligning it with the walkway. With a soft mechanical hiss, the vessel locked into position.
The hatch released.
Cool, still air rushed in.
One by one, they stepped out—boots meeting ancient stone that had not been touched in years… or perhaps decades.
Yuuki paused just outside the hatch, glancing at the readings projected across his visor. Oxygen levels… stable. Pressure… normalized. No toxins detected.
"…You can breathe here."
With a soft click, he disengaged his helmet. The seal broke, and for the first time since their descent, the air of this hidden world touched his face—cool, still, and faintly metallic, like something long sealed away.
Behind him, Yorktown followed.
Then Enterprise.
Then Belfast.
Helmets released, armor retracting slightly as their long hair fell free, moving gently in the stillness. The shift made everything feel… closer. More real. Less like a mission—and more like stepping into something forgotten.
Yorktown's gaze swept the area slowly. Her expression tightened—not fear, but something harder to define.
Recognition.
Without memory.
Belfast stood poised, posture immaculate as always, but there was a sharpness now—every sense engaged, every movement deliberate.
Enterprise said nothing.
She didn't need to.
Her eyes tracked everything—the structure, the light patterns, the silence. Measuring. Calculating.
Yuuki rolled his shoulders once, loosening the stiffness from the dive. For a moment, he simply looked around.
"…So this is what he was hiding."
Then he paused, as if remembering something trivial in the middle of something monumental.
"Oh—right."
A flicker of light gathered in his palm.
Weapons formed.
Sleek. Familiar. Lethal.
He handed them out one by one—their previously used Volt Auto Rifles, each humming faintly as power cells initialized.
"Just in case."
Yorktown took hers, her grip instinctive.
"…You always say that."
He handed them out one by one—their previously used Volt Auto Rifles, each humming faintly as power cells initialized.
"Just in case."
Yorktown took hers, her grip instinctive.
"…You always say that."
Yuuki gave a small shrug, faint smirk returning.
"And I'm always right."
The cavern remained silent.
No wind.
No movement.
Just the distant, almost imperceptible hum of something deeper within the structure—something not entirely dormant.
Yuuki glanced toward the stone staircase ahead.
"…Alright."
His tone shifted—lighter gone, focus settling in.
"Stay sharp. If this place opened for us…"
A brief pause.
"…it might not be empty."
Without another word, he stepped forward.
And the others followed—four figures moving across ancient stone, into a place that had been waiting far too long to be found.