Ren stood in front of the hotel room door, hands buried in his jacket pockets. He stared at the wood grain for a solid thirty seconds before finally knocking.
A shuffle inside. Then Rin's voice, muffled through the door. "Yeah?"
"It's me," Ren said.
A pause. Then the door creaked open halfway.
Rin looked him over, one brow raised. "Did you get lost, or is this a social call?"
Ren looked down, then up. "Can we talk?"
She stepped aside and gestured him in. "Sure. You didn't bring another apocalypse with you, right?"
"Not today."
He stepped in. The room was neat—surprisingly so. One of the twin beds was made; the other was buried in an avalanche of clothes, snacks, and a half-assembled mana converter. Rin flopped into the armchair beside the small coffee table and gestured for him to sit on the bed.
Ren hesitated, then sat on the edge.
"So?" Rin asked, leaning back with her hands laced behind her head. "What's eating you?"
"I… wanted to ask you something," Ren said. "Or maybe just talk."
"That's dangerously vague. Try again."
He looked at her directly this time. "How do you know when it's time to change?"
Rin blinked. Her posture straightened a little. "Huh."
"I don't mean like—superficial stuff. I mean… when you're stuck. When you're scared that changing might make you lose what little you've held onto."
Her gaze softened. "You talk like someone who's already made up his mind."
Ren breathed out slowly. "I think I have. I can't keep fighting like I'm following someone else's dream. I want to fight for the people I care about. For something that feels real." He glanced up. "I wouldn't have realized that without you."
Rin didn't smile. Not yet. She looked at him a while, studying his face like she was checking for cracks.
"That's a step in the right direction," she said eventually.
Ren nodded, half-relieved.
Rin continued, "Now—if you're serious about changing—you should start talking to the people you've been ignoring. People who've actually been hurt by the person you were."
He looked away. "You mean Lyra."
"I mean whoever's been waiting for you to stop acting like a ghost." She stood and stretched. "But yeah, start with Lyra."
Ren sat there a moment longer, then stood. "Thanks."
"Just don't make me regret this emotional labor."
"I'll try not to."
⸻
Outside, the hotel's upper floor balconies offered a narrow view of the city skyline. The morning light was hazy, and the scent of warm concrete hung in the air. Ren walked past a few open doors, then paused near the last balcony.
Lyra stood with her arms resting on the railing, her gaze distant. She looked… peaceful. Or at least too still to be anything else.
Ren almost turned around.
Then didn't.
He walked over, quiet but deliberate. "H-hey."
Lyra glanced sideways. "Are you talking to me?"
"…Yeah."
She turned fully now, her tone flat. "Why?"
Ren shifted his weight. "I don't know," he admitted. "I just… needed to."
She raised a brow. "Not exactly convincing."
The air stretched between them.
Ren looked down. "I wanted to say I'm sorry."
Lyra blinked. "Huh?"
"I thought I knew who I was. I had this plan. This rigid idea of what I needed to be. And I thought keeping everyone at a distance would protect them… and me." His eyes flicked to hers. "But I ended up hurting you. And I'm sorry."
She didn't respond right away.
"I want to be different now," he said. "And… I want to be your friend again."
Lyra squinted at him. "Are you being serious, or is this some guilt-driven arc thing?"
Ren cracked a nervous smile. "Little of both?"
She let out a faint, awkward laugh. "You really don't remember how we met, do you?"
Ren shook his head.
"Didn't think so." She looked down for a moment, then held out a hand. "Alright, Ren. Let's try again."
He took it.
It was awkward—offbeat, almost clumsy.
But when their hands met, neither of them pulled away.
And for once, it didn't feel like Ren was running.
"Try not to be an ass anymore. For everyone's sake," Lyra said, her voice dry but not unkind.
Ren gave a small nod, the corners of his mouth twitching up. "I understand."
She looked at him for a moment longer, then turned back to the railing. The wind tugged gently at her coat.
Ren stood there a second, letting the silence settle. Then, quietly, he left.
⸻
Ren knocked at Rin's hotel room door, barely holding back the stupid grin threatening to take over his face. The hallway light buzzed overhead, casting a faint gold glow across the peeling wallpaper.
The door creaked open.
"I did it! I—" Ren stopped cold.
Rin was at the door, but behind her stood Sosuke, arms crossed and leaning against the window ledge with a faint smirk on his face.
"What's up?" Sosuke asked casually.
Ren blinked, his smile faltering. "Hhh… Why're you here?"
"Just enjoying my day. How about you?"
Ren looked between them and exhaled. "Guess I have to make it up to you too, huh?"
Sosuke pushed off the ledge and strolled toward the bed. "I was hardly around to be hurt by your actions. I don't really care, to be honest." He gave a shrug. "Rin explained the whole thing."
Ren stepped inside, closing the door behind him. "You told him?"
Rin threw up her hands. "Didn't know it was a secret. Of course I told him. You think I'm not going to debrief my emotionally constipated friend when he actually opens up?"
Ren sighed, but he wasn't mad. "Fair enough."
Sosuke sat down on the edge of the unmade bed, stretching his arms behind him to prop himself up. "I think it's great, though. That you're trying to change. I get it."
Rin flopped beside Sosuke, legs crossed beneath her, eyes tracing the ceiling tiles. "So how'd it go?"
Ren lit up again, pacing small circles at the foot of the bed, like energy was leaking out of him. "It went great. That's why I came—I feel weirdly… fulfilled. Like something clicked. Like I was supposed to be this version of me all along, and I just didn't know it until now."
Sosuke glanced at Rin, and she raised an eyebrow. The unspoken: this guy, huh?
"Yeah, who woulda guessed," Rin said, voice thick with sarcasm but not without warmth.
Ren turned, noticing their look. "You two seem weirdly in sync right now. I guess you've always been close though."
He stopped pacing.
His eyes flicked between them. "How can I have something like that? Like… that kind of connection with someone? One that's real. Deep."
Sosuke leaned forward, elbows on knees. "You can't force it."
Rin nodded. "It's not a checkbox kind of thing. It's slow. Messy. You mess up. They do too. But it works because you want it to."
"Depends on the person," Sosuke added, shooting Rin a glance.
"And on you," she said, returning it. "Whether you're ready to be honest. Even when it sucks."
They nodded.
——
Outside the hotel window, the sky had deepened from gold to navy. Streetlights flickered to life, casting halos on the sidewalk below.
The Starborn regrouped on the rooftop, just after dawn. The city below stirred slowly—soft clatter of carts on cobblestone, muffled voices rising through morning fog.
Nina stood in front of them, arms behind her back, her coat ruffling in the wind. "Today is September 6th. An important convoy is scheduled to pass through the city."
Reid raised an eyebrow. "Kind of convenient, isn't it? Something important just happening to pass by while we're here?"
"It's not random," Arthur replied, arms folded across his chest. "They're cutting through a high-density district. Too many civilians around. Less likely to get ambushed if someone's worried about collateral damage."
"Smart," Reid muttered, still watching Nina.
She nodded once. "We're not hitting the convoy here. That'd be suicide. Our job is to tail it—track it back to wherever it came from, and when we find the source, we destroy everything in it."
No one spoke for a moment.
Wind tugged at their coats. Far below, bells chimed in a nearby chapel. Horses brayed in the distance.
Rin leaned against the rooftop's edge. "So we wait?"
"We wait," Nina confirmed. "Convoy should pass through the southern gate around noon. Mount up then."
⸻
Hours later, the Starborn waited at street level, concealed in a small alley on the southern edge of the city. The fog had burned off by now, replaced by dry heat and dust. A slow unease crept into the cracks of the stone walls around them.
Ren adjusted the collar of his jacket. "Feels too quiet."
Rin exhaled slowly. "That's because we're trying not to get noticed."
Footsteps echoed faintly on the road ahead—then the distant creak of wooden wheels.
"Here they come," Sosuke murmured, his eyes already narrowing.
The convoy rolled into view.
A formation of armored steam haulers—large, clanking wagons pulled by iron-plated dray beasts—rattled down the main road. Each one was reinforced with mana-threaded steel and accompanied by mounted riflemen, wearing black dusters and goggles that obscured their faces.
At least two dozen guards marched alongside the wagons, weapons at the ready, all of them alert.
In the middle of the line was a single wagon sealed with sigil-locked panels glowing faint blue. Whatever was inside… it was valuable.
Elowen crouched beside Reid and whispered, "They're overcompensating."
"No such thing," he replied. "That's fear."
The group watched from the alley as the convoy turned east toward the outer edge of the city, and without a word, they moved.
They stayed back—keeping to alleys, abandoned buildings, and narrow trails just beyond the main road. The pace was slow, cautious. The steam haulers hissed and clanked with every turn, releasing puffs of smoke like irritated beasts.
For over an hour they followed, past the city's edge, through abandoned farmland, and toward the forested hills beyond.
That's when they saw it.
The convoy curved toward a cliffside—and disappeared behind an illusion field. A ripple of light shimmered, briefly revealing what lay ahead.
A base.
Huge. Buried into the rock like a parasite. Dozens of towers. Searchlights. Electrified fences. Watchmen on rotating shifts with long-barreled rifles and enchanted lanterns that cut through shadow. Supply platforms dangled from pulleys. Steam hissed through pipes that ran across the jagged stone walls.
And guards.
Too many to count. Hundreds, maybe more. Moving with precision. Each one armed to the teeth.
Sosuke exhaled sharply. "Charging in would be suicide."
"No kidding," Reid muttered.
Nina crouched behind a jagged outcrop of stone, wind tugging at her coat. Her gaze was locked on the sprawling fortress below. "We can't go in there. Not like this."
Sosuke scanned the perimeter, then nodded toward the cliff wall to their right. "Let's get a better view."
"There," Reid pointed. "Top of that ridge should give us eyes on everything."
"Maybe we'll find out what's worth all this protection," Arthur said, already moving.
Sosuke, Arthur, Reid, and Ren broke off, slipping between rocks and dead brush until they reached the upper ledge. They climbed low and careful, crawling the last few meters to the cliff's edge.
Sosuke dropped to his stomach, eyes narrowing as he focused on the base below.
The convoy had come to a full stop near a central platform. Dozens of guards now formed a perimeter, weapons at the ready. In the middle of it all stood a man in a high-collared officer's coat—rank etched into the gold filigree on his shoulder. He lifted his hand and barked something Sosuke couldn't hear.
With a hiss of steam, the convoy's lead carriage unlatched.
A mechanical capsule rolled forward—six guards surrounding it like it might explode at any moment. It was coffin-shaped. Silver. Lined with glowing blue runes that pulsed in intervals, like a heartbeat.
"What the hell is that?" Reid whispered, his voice barely audible.
"I don't know," Sosuke muttered. "Just wait."
The officer stepped forward and placed his palm against the capsule. The runes flared brighter.
Below them, the earth opened.
A titanic metal hatch split apart near the platform—shaking the ground even from their distance. Gears turned. Chains groaned. A dark tunnel gaped beneath the base like a wound. The guards began to lower the capsule down into it.
But as the light struck the inside of the capsule—Sosuke's breath caught.
For just a second, the lid's transparency flickered.
"…Lance Sterling," Sosuke breathed, eyes locked wide. "What the fuck?"
"What?!" Reid shifted forward beside him. "No. That can't be him. That's got to be fake, right?"
Ren said nothing. His lips parted slightly, disbelief in his eyes. "What did they do to him…?"
Arthur swallowed hard. "We need to tell the others. Now."
⸻
They regrouped on the hotel rooftop as twilight sank over the city. A rust-red moon began to rise, staining the skyline.
"You're telling me they turned on him?" Reid asked again, pacing along the ledge.
"No, it doesn't add up." Lyra stood near the railing, arms folded, her brows drawn tight. "Sterling can clone himself. That could've been a copy—meant for containment."
Rin, sitting with one leg up on a water tank, shook her head. "That wasn't a clone. You saw the mana signature inside that capsule. It was stable—too stable. Only the original would have that kind of core consistency."
"Then what?" Reid asked. "They forced one of the strongest men alive into a capsule and buried him underground like some cursed artifact?"
Rin glanced at Sosuke, then back at the others. "What if it's worse? What if they didn't betray him? What if he volunteered? Let them seal him in that thing to keep his power… timeless."
Silence.
Ren sat on the railing, arms folded, jaw clenched. "Jesus."
Arthur didn't look away from the skyline. "Whatever that was—it wasn't right. No way he's in there willingly."
Nina finally spoke, voice steady but tense. "I'll contact the Commander. We're not making a move until we know what we're dealing with."
Sosuke stepped back from the edge, shadow cutting across his face. "Whatever this is… it changes everything."
They stood there a moment longer, the wind pressing cold against their backs, the stars flickering awake overhead—each one distant, silent, and watching.