Chapter 11: Still Waters Run Deep
The purposes of a person's heart are deep waters, but one who has insight draws them out.
Proverbs 20:5
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March stretches like a cat as she wakes up, feeling well-rested. She takes in her surroundings - the cozy room at their current lodgings in Belobog. Neither Dan nor Xander are with her. Her eyes adjust to the soft morning light filtering in through the slightly ajar balcony door, a silhouette visible through the gap.
Curious, March slips out of bed and pads her way over to it in pajamas. She gently pushes it open and steps outside, squinting as the rising sun's warm rays wash over her face. Dan Heng and Xander lean against the balcony railing, steaming cups of coffee in hand as they quietly take in the view of Belobog.
Xander looks different than usual, dressed in a pastel-colored patterned turtleneck sweater, jeans, and brown chukka boots. His hair is neatly styled back. As if sensing her presence, he turns his head towards her, dark circles under his eyes contrasting with his refreshed appearance. "Good morning. Did you sleep well?"
March smiles back. "I did, thank you. Got a little chilly at one point, but it passed and I slept deeply after that."
Xander grabs another cup from a small wooden table. "Here, I made some coffee for you."
As their fingers brush, March notices how he intentionally guides her hands to grasp the warm mug. He's prepared it black. "Wasn't sure if you take cream or milk, but trust me, it's good even without," he says, gently guiding March to stand between himself and Dan.
The lancer gives a nod of acknowledgment as Xander lights a cigarette. An oddly comfortable silence settles over the trio. March glances at Dan, raising an eyebrow as if to ask 'What's up with him?' Dan just shrugs, seeming equally perplexed.
Deciding to go with the flow, March takes an experimental sip of the coffee. Her eyes widen in surprise - it is delicious, rich and full-bodied, even better than Himeko's brews. "It's the beans," the man explains to her.
"Where did you get them?" Dan asks.
"A gift from Asta," Xander replies casually, taking another drag.
March does a double-take. "Asta gave you coffee beans?"
"Yeah, before we left the station after my agreement with Herta. I asked around for recommendations on high-quality beans. Wasn't about to let my circumstances interfere with my morning ritual."
He shrugs. "Asta gave me a bag of her personal favorites. Looked it up. Quite the expensive stuff, but it's that good."
"Just how expensive are we talking?" March asks, savoring another sip.
"Around 290,000 credits."
March's eyes widen and she barely manages to avoid spitting out her coffee. She notices Dan going through a similar predicament, his cheeks puffed out.
Dan holds the mug up to the light, his eyes narrowing as he inspects the dark liquid intently, as if trying to discern flecks of gold within. "This better cure your Stellaron," he deadpans. "Otherwise, it's highway robbery."
Xander laughs. "Unfortunately, it doesn't have those kinds of powers."
March's brow furrows. "Why would Asta gift you such expensive beans? Does she have feelings for you or something?"
Without warning, Xander reaches out and gently head-chops her. "Get your mind out of the gutter," he chides, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Asta giving me this is like you giving me a regular cup of coffee. She's in a completely different financial league. Those beans are pocket change to her."
March blinks, taken aback by the revelation of Asta's wealth. Her curiosity shifts to Xander's appearance. "So, what's the occasion? Why the new look?"
"You expect me to show up to work in my usual attire? Got to make a good first impression."
"You have a change of clothes?" Dan asks, glancing at Xander's hands. "Wouldn't want to get those dirty while working with appliances."
He confirms he has a spare set ready to go. The conversation lulls as they enjoy the peaceful morning and view. After a moment, Xander speaks up, exhaling a puff of smoke. "I have a request for both of you."
March and Dan perk up, intrigued. "What is it?" March asks.
"I need you to gather as much information as possible on the Architects here in Belobog. Who they are, who they associate with, their likes and dislikes, and what departments they work in. I'm especially interested in those involved in scientific research."
He pauses, taking another drag. "If Plan A, convincing Serval, doesn't work out, I want to have all the intel we need for Plan B or C. But for now, Serval's our best bet at getting information on Belobog's Stellaron."
"What exactly are Plans B and C?"
Xander shakes his head. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. For now, just focus on gathering information."
He takes another drag before continuing. "If you hit a dead end, consider paying Pela a visit as a last resort. But be careful - if we raise any suspicions, it could jeopardize our relationship with Serval."
March nods resolutely, the importance of discretion etched in her mind. Xander's lips curve into a smile as he turns to face them. "One more thing. Join me for lunch this afternoon."
Dan raises an eyebrow questioningly. "Lunch? For what purpose?"
Xander's gaze shifts between them. "Serval might be more inclined to trust us if she sees our 'sibling' dynamic in action. She's an older sister herself, so it's something she can relate to."
Dan's expression remains impassive, but his eyes glint with amusement. "So, essentially, you want us to be your wingmen to score points with Serval?"
Xander grins. "Bingo. But hey, you said it, not me."
March can't help but laugh at their playful banter, a rare sight to see Xander so at ease. He turns back to March, his expression growing serious once more. "One last thing. I need you to identify the owner of the Starlight Café and put together a comprehensive profile on him. His personality, who he interacts with, how he treats customers, where he spends most of his time, his likes and dislikes - anything you can dig up. I need to know how to approach him if I want to get Mechanical Fever's event back on track."
Determination settles in March's features as she absorbs the weight of the task. With their objectives laid out, the trio falls into a comfortable silence, each lost in thought as they watch the sun continue rising over Belobog.
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Serval lets out a tired yawn as she trudges through the brisk morning chill of Belobog's administrative district, her boots crunching against the fresh layer of snow. Despite the early hour, the air does little to rouse her from her sleepy haze. Streets bustle with activity, merchants setting up their stalls and workers hurrying to their jobs.
It has been a long night between welcoming Lynx back from her latest expedition and staying up modding one of her guitars with a new synthesizer setup that allows it to produce unique sounds.
As she approaches the entrance of the Neverwinter Workshop, she notices a familiar figure waiting outside. Xander stands there, a small smile playing on his lips, a thermos bottle in one hand and two plastic cups stacked on top.
"Looks like we both could use a pick-me-up," he says, holding up the thermos. "Coffee?"
Serval blinks, processing the unexpected gesture. She takes in Xander's new look – the patterned pastel turtleneck, the jeans, and the chukka-style brown boots.
"You didn't have to," she says, a hint of embarrassment in her voice as she tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
Xander shrugs, a lopsided grin on his face. "I made extra. Thought you might appreciate it. Those dark circles are telling."
Serval's hand instinctively reaches up to touch the marks she has tried so hard to conceal with makeup. "That obvious, huh?"
Xander's gaze meets hers, his eyes twinkling. "Nah, you look great. The eyeliner really brings out your eyes. I just noticed it by chance."
Serval feels her heart skip a beat at the compliment. She quickly turns away, fumbling with the door to the workshop to distract herself from the sudden rush of emotions.
"So, what kept you up?" She asks, her tone casual as she steps inside and hangs her coat.
Xander follows her in, setting the thermos and cups down on a nearby workbench. "Had to deal with some troublemakers at the bar I bounce at.
Serval raises an eyebrow, surprised. "Didn't know you were a bouncer."
As he pours the coffee, he explains, "Started the same day you approved my trial. It won't interfere with my work here. I'd rather be a full-time mechanic, but I need the money from both jobs right now."
He hands her a cup. "Careful, it's hot," he warns, his fingers brushing against hers briefly.
Serval shivers at the contact. She takes a sip of the coffee, her eyes widening at the rich, velvety taste.
"This is amazing! Where'd you get this?"
Xander chuckles, watching her savor the beverage. "Glad you like it. Wasn't sure if you took it black."
Serval nods, taking another sip. "It's perfect. Keep this up and I might have to hire you full-time once your trial's over."
As she speaks, she notices Xander removing his turtleneck sweater, revealing a fitted black tank top that hugs his muscular frame. Her breath catches in her throat as she takes in the sight.
Xander seems oblivious to her reaction as he moves to examine a broken oven. "What's the issue with this one?"
"Right," Serval says, composing herself. "Client said it wasn't heating properly, even though the ignition was working."
Xander nods, grabbing some tools and getting to work. As he disassembles the outer casing, he glances up at Serval. "Hey, want to grab lunch later? My brother and sister might be around, thought I could introduce you."
Serval perks up, a smile tugging at her lips. "Sounds good. There's a nice cafe near the central plaza with great sandwiches and soups. We could go there."
Xander nods, focusing on the oven. "Perfect. So, what are your brothers like? Give me the rundown before I meet them. If they join us, that is."
Serval's eyes light up as she starts talking about her siblings. "Well, Lynx is the youngest. She's a total nature lover, always exploring the mountains and tundras outside Belobog."
As Xander requests a tool, Serval passes it to him, continuing her story. "She loves camping and trekking through the wilderness, fascinated by the flora and fauna that have adapted to survive out there. Sometimes she'll disappear for weeks, coming back with wild stories of her adventures."
Xander chuckles, shaking his head. "Sounds like a daredevil."
Serval grins, nodding. "That's Lynx for you. Now, Gepard..." She trails off, a playful gleam in her eye. "He's a bit of a stick in the mud compared to Lynx and me."
Xander raises an eyebrow, prompting her to continue.
"Don't get me wrong, I love him," Serval clarifies. "But ever since he became a captain of the Silvermane Guards, he's been a bit... overprotective."
She rolls her eyes, sighing. "Sometimes it feels like he wants to wrap me in bubble wrap and keep me locked away. He means well, but it can be suffocating."
Xander chuckles, holding up his hands. "Hey, I get it. I'm the same with my little sister."
Serval tilts her head, intrigued. "Oh?"
"Yeah, she's 21, but I can't help worrying about her," Xander explains, his expression softening.
Serval considers his words. "Shouldn't she be old enough to take care of herself? I'm sure you've taught her how to protect herself."
Xander's eyes widen for a moment, his movements stilling. He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath before continuing his work.
"Sometimes," he begins, his voice low, "no matter how well you prepare them, how much you teach them to fend for themselves, there's always a chance that someone with bad intentions could get to them. And even if that doesn't happen, life has a way of throwing its own punches."
Serval falls silent, watching Xander as he speaks, sensing the weight of his words.
"In the end, all you can do is hope they're strong enough to handle whatever comes their way," Xander continues, his hands moving skillfully as he works. "Because you can't always be there for them, as much as you want to be. But the worry, the constant need to protect - it comes with the territory of being an older sibling."
Serval nods slowly, understanding dawning on her. She moves to work on a heater that needs repair, her mind drifting to her own experiences. "I get it," she says softly, her fingers tracing the heater's casing. "I've had to protect Gepard before, too."
A memory surfaces, vivid and clear. She sees herself as a young girl, standing defiantly in front of a cowering Gepard, shielding him from
Did you not hear me? Don't go there ever again! What could you possibly be learning from those commoners?!
Xander looks up at her, his expression pensive. "Did you have to protect him often?"
Serval meets his gaze, a rueful smile on her lips. "Sometimes," she admits, her fingers tightening around the heater.
Xander nods slowly, understanding in his eyes. "You did your job, then. He's grown strong. He's a captain now. You're a great sister, Serval."
A genuine smile tugs at her lips at Xander's heartfelt words. "Thanks. That means a lot."
He returns her smile, his eyes twinkling with curiosity and admiration. "So, responsible older sister, part-time mechanic, shop owner, lead singer and guitarist of a rock band. Anything else you do?"
Serval chuckles, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Well, would a PhD be too intimidating?"
Xander pauses, turning to face her fully, his eyes wide with surprise. "You have a PhD? In what?"
"Geomarrow Energy Engineering. Graduated from the Engineering Department at the Belobog Cadet School."
A slow smile spreads across Xander's face, his eyes sparkling with admiration. "Impressive. I figured you had some serious engineering chops, especially with the mods on your guitar. I bet you could shock a horde of Fragmentum monsters with that thing."
Serval grins, her fingers instinctively tracing the designs on her guitar's body. "You noticed, huh? It's an old project of mine."
"From your time at the school?"
Serval nods, her gaze growing distant as she recalls the memory. "Yeah, but it's evolved over the years." She pauses, a fond smile on her lips. "Started as a joint project with an old friend."
Xander leans forward, his eyes alight with interest. "Who was this friend that got you to turn a guitar into a weapon?"
Serval laughs, the sound rich and melodious. "It was Cocolia."
Xander's eyebrows shoot up, his expression one of pure disbelief. "No way. Supreme Guardian Cocolia? That Cocolia?"
"The one and only," Serval confirms, grinning at Xander's reaction.
Xander lets out a bark of laughter, shaking his head. "Get outta here."
Serval holds up her hands. "I swear, it's true."
Xander hums in response, turning his attention back to the oven. "What was she like back then?"
Serval tilts her head, considering the question. "Why do you want to know?" Her tone is cautious.
Xander's expression grows serious, his movements slowing as he meets her gaze. "I knew people who lived in the Underworld. I can either believe they're dead or somehow surviving after Cocolia sealed off the passage between us and them."
Serval freezes, her breath catching in her throat as the implications of Xander's words sink in.
Sensing her discomfort, Xander is quick to reassure her. "I don't judge you for knowing her or being friends with her. I just want to understand where that decision came from."
Serval swallows hard, her fingers tightening around the heater. "Cocolia was a friend," she corrects him hesitantly. "Not is. Things got strained after we graduated."
She pauses, gathering her thoughts. "I was working on a project under the scientific division of the Architects, exploring a lead to the cause of the Eternal Freeze, when Cocolia decided to destroy my research and permanently expel me without cause." Her voice grows thick with resignation. "I never understood why, and eventually gave up trying to make sense of it."
Serval lets out a soft sigh, her shoulders slumping slightly as she meets Xander's gaze.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring up bad memories." Genuine concern laces his voice.
She shakes her head, offering him a small, reassuring smile. "It's okay. It's in the past now."
"When we first met, you mentioned being the black sheep of the Architects and the Silvermane Guards. Does your expulsion have something to do with that?"
Serval turns her attention back to the heater she is repairing, her fingers moving deftly. "It's the root of it all," she says, a hint of bitterness in her voice. "In Belobog, Cocolia's word is law. Her judgment is considered infallible. So when she expelled me, people assumed I must have done something wrong. Embezzlement, negligence, misconduct - you name it, they probably thought I did it. It's like my years of dedicated service meant nothing in the face of her decision."
She pauses, her gaze growing distant as she recalls the memories. "The only two people I still have contact with from my work back then are Pela and Gepard."
Xander nods slowly, his expression thoughtful as he listens to her words. Serval takes a deep breath, her shoulders rising and falling.
"When I left, I decided I'd go my own way, do my own thing, and not depend on anyone. So with the money I had saved, I set up the Neverwinter Workshop."
A soft clang echoes through the workshop as Xander sets down his tools, signaling that he's finished with the oven. He rises to his feet, dusting off his hands, his black tank top smeared with grime.
Serval's gaze is drawn to the way his muscles flex as he bends down to pick up the oven with ease, carrying it over to the nearest wall.
Xander turns to face her, a playful glint in his eye as he catches her staring. "Well, esteemed PhD. Would you do the honors of bringing this beast back to life?"
Serval laughs, shaking her head in amusement as she walks over to him, playfully elbowing him in the ribs. "You're ridiculous, you know that?" she says affectionately, turning her attention to the oven.
She inserts a piece of geomarrow into the compartment, and the oven hums to life, the internal mechanisms whirring as it begins to heat up. "Nicely done," she says, turning to Xander with a smile.
"We still have a lot to do before the day ends."
His face shifts slightly as he seems to mull something over. "I don't get it, Serval. You were fired without cause, your reputation dragged through the mud, and yet your brother managed to rise through the ranks and become a prestigious captain in the very organization that wronged you. How does that even work?"
Serval lets out a soft sigh, her fingers idly tracing the patterns on the heater. "Gepard has always been about duty to the family name," she explains, a hint of sadness in her voice. "He was determined to make sure the Landau name wasn't tarnished. He worked hard to rise through the ranks and gain the prestige he has now."
She pauses, her gaze growing distant as she considers her brother's motivations. "I think part of his drive was to change the narrative about me within the ranks, to clear my name in a way."
Xander nods slowly, his expression thoughtful. "Did it work?"
Serval shrugs, a wry smile tugging at her lips. "The animosity isn't as bad anymore. Most are just indifferent to me now. Time has a way of making people forget, which helps."
Xander's hands still as he poses the question, his eyes filled with curiosity. "What project were you working on that got Cocolia so upset?"
For a moment, she hesitates, her mind racing as she considers how much to reveal. "It was related to investigating the cause of the Eternal Freeze," she admits, her voice guarded. "But I'm under a non-disclosure agreement, so I can't share more than that."
"NDA, huh?" he murmurs, as if reminiscing about something from his past. "So that's how she must have felt."
Serval tilts her head. "What do you mean?"
"My old sweetheart. I wasn't always... working on the best of things." He pauses, a flicker of regret passing over his features.
"There were times when I had to do things I'm not proud of, just to put food on the table."
Serval watches him closely, her expression open and non-judgmental, silently encouraging him to continue.
"She'd ask me about my work, how my day was, if I did anything interesting," Xander continues, his fingers drumming against the workbench. "And I couldn't tell her. Not the truth, anyway."
A small pang of disappointment tugs at Serval's heart as she realizes the implications of his words. But she pushes the feeling aside, her curiosity taking precedence. "Are you able to be more open with her now?"
Xander's gaze drops to the floor, his shoulders slumping slightly. "I can't. We're... separated."
"Is she from the Underworld?"
"The distance feels much longer than that sometimes."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Serval says softly, her heart going out to him.
Xander shakes his head, a rueful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "It's nothing to be sorry about. That's just the way life goes sometimes."
He picks up the thermos bottle, pouring another round of coffee for both himself and Serval. The rich aroma fills the air, mingling with the scent of grease and metal.
Serval watches him, her curiosity piqued. "Do you still hold a candle for her? Even after all these years?"
Xander pauses, considering her question carefully. "Would you hold a candle for someone you can't meet and
He hands Serval a fresh cup of coffee, taking a sip from his own as he waits for her response.
Serval accepts the cup gratefully, her fingers curling around the warm ceramic as she ponders his words. "It's a hard situation... I don't know what I would do in your shoes. But I wouldn't judge either person for moving on in that scenario."
Xander's eyes crinkle at the corners as he offers her a wink. "So you think I should be looking for a girl now?"
Serval laughs, shaking her head in amusement. "That's for you to know."
"You know," Xander says, his tone taking on a playful lilt, "you might be her."
"Don't be ridiculous."
Xander grins, unperturbed by her reaction.
Serval can't help but feel a little flustered, her cheeks still warm. She takes a sip of her own coffee, savoring the rich flavor as she tries to regain her composure.
After a moment, Xander breaks the silence, his gaze shifting to her outfit. "Did you make that yourself?"
Serval blinks, caught off guard by the sudden change in topic. "Oh, yeah," she confirms, her fingers tracing the patterns on her shirt. "I did."
Xander nods, his expression appreciative. "Silvermane Guard inspired, right?"
Serval's eyes light up with pride. "That's right. Even after all that's happened, I still believe in the people making good work to defend Belobog."
"The guy I'm waiting for to vacate is a Silvermane Guard too."
A spark of realization flashes in his eyes, and he turns to Serval with a grin. "If I get into any trouble with anyone at my bouncing gig, you could be the one helping me out. My hero."
Serval can't help but laugh. What's with her? She's been doing that nonstop! "I could be her, yeah."
Xander's expression shifts, processing her words in the context of their previous conversation. A chuckle escapes his lips, his eyes dancing with mirth. "You could be... 'her'?"
Serval's cheeks flush once more as she realizes the unintended meaning behind her words. She joins in his laughter, doubling down on her statement with a playful grin. "Yeah, I could be."
Serval and Xander lapse into silence, their gazes locked as the tension hangs thick in the air. She can feel her heart pounding in her chest, the implication of her words lingering between them like a charged spark.
The moment is shattered by a sharp knock at the door, followed by the sound of it swinging open. "Serval? You in here?" a familiar voice calls out.
Serval whips around, her eyes widening as she recognizes the voice. Gepard! She quickly averts her gaze, searching for something to busy herself with as a flush creeps up her neck.
Her eyes land on a broken toaster oven sitting on the workbench, and she hastily grabs it, pretending to inspect it closely. Out of the corner of her eye, she notices Xander doing the same, his attention suddenly focused on a malfunctioning coffee maker. Did he just swear under his breath?
Gepard strides into the workshop, depositing his massive reinforced guitar case, Earthwork, next to the coat rack by the entrance. He is still in his full Silvermane Guard uniform, his armor gleaming in the morning light.
"You'll never believe the orders we just received from the Supreme Guardian," he says, shaking his head in disbelief, his blond locks dancing. "She's called for unannounced patrols throughout the residential areas of Belobog tonight. She didn't give many details, but I suspect there might be suspicions of Fragmentum monsters somehow getting inside the city walls."
He falls silent, his gaze finally landing on Xander, who is still hunched over the coffee maker, his back turned. "Serval," Gepard says slowly, his blue eyes narrowing. "Who's this?"
Serval freezes, her heart skipping a beat. She whips around, feigning surprise at Gepard's presence with a loud gasp that sounds more like a strangled yelp. "Gepard! I didn't even hear you come in!"
Xander straightens up, turning to face Gepard with a small smile playing on his lips. Serval takes a deep breath, trying to compose herself.
"Gepard, this is Xander," she says, gesturing towards the man. "He's a probationary employee here at the Neverwinter Workshop. Xander, this is my little brother, Gepard. He's the captain of the Silvermane Guards who I was just telling you about."
Xander's smile widens, and he lets out a low chuckle. "Ah yes, the infamous captain. Serval was just badmouthing you before you arrived."
Serval's eyes widen in horror, and she quickly lashes out, delivering a swift kick to Xander's shin. He lets out a yelp of mock pain, hopping on one foot as he clutches his leg.
"I'm just kidding! She was singing your praises, I swear!"
Gepard barks out a laugh, shaking his head in amusement. He extends his hand towards Xander, his expression warm and friendly. "Good to meet you, Xander. Don't mind the grease on my glove."
Xander accepts the handshake, a sheepish grin on his face. "Not at all. My hands are probably worse."
As their hands clasp, Serval can't help but notice the way Gepard's eyes narrow slightly, his gaze flickering between her and Xander. She swallows hard, suddenly aware of the tension in the room.
"I don't think I've seen you around Belobog before," Gepard remarks, his tone casual but his eyes sharp. "Where are you from?"
Xander's expression grows somber, and he shrugs nonchalantly. "I lived until recently in Backwater Pass. But that area got overrun by the Fragmentum, so I had to move permanently to the commercial district."
Gepard nods slowly, his gaze creased in thought. A flicker of remorse passes over his features, and he sighs heavily, shaking his head. "I'm sorry we couldn't prevent it from falling to the hands of the Fragmentum. We tried our best, but in the end..."
"Orders are orders, right? It's okay. Me and my siblings have managed."
There is no hint of bitterness or resentment in his words, just a quiet acceptance of the circumstances.
Xander turns to face her, a warm smile playing on his lips. "Actually, Serval and I were planning to grab lunch together at a cafe near the central plaza. Why don't you join us?"
Gepard frowns, and he shoots Serval a questioning look. "Made plans, huh?"
Xander's smile widens. "Gotta meet the family before committing, am I right?"
Serval feels her heart drop into her stomach, her eyes widening in horror. She can practically feel the color draining from her face as Xander's words sink in. Her gaze shifts to Gepard, and she watches in trepidation as his face morphs, his fists clenching at his sides.
Even years later, she'd still remember how part of her wanted nothing more than for the ground to open up and swallow her whole, to spare her from the utter mortification of this moment.
Another part, however, would be filled with an overwhelming urge to wipe that infuriatingly handsome, innocent smile off Xander's face.
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Gepard shifts in his seat, trying to make sense of the peculiar situation unfolding before him. "Gotta meet the family before committing," he mutters, echoing Xander's earlier words.
Xander responds with an innocent smile as he cuts into a piece of bread. "Exactly. Can't have my siblings doubting my choice. Serval's going to be my boss, after all." He glances at March and Dan, seated on either side of him, who offer awkward smiles in return.
The group is gathered at a cafe in Belobog's administrative district, the one Serval mentioned to Xander earlier. Gepard sits at the head of the table, directly across from Xander. March and Pela occupy one side, while Dan and Serval sit on the other.
Gepard can't shake the feeling that this stranger is purposefully mocking him. Determined to learn more about these unfamiliar individuals, he takes the initiative and begins asking questions.
"You mentioned being from the Backwater Pass. Did you and your siblings always live there?"
Xander's expression remains open and relaxed as he leans back in his chair, his fingers drumming lightly on the table. "Not exactly. We would have loved to stay there, but circumstances didn't allow it. I miss it, to be honest."
He takes a sip of his drink, the steam curling around his face as he gathers his thoughts. "We spent many years living in the underworld. Our uncle brought us up here when we were kids. It was sheer luck that Supreme Guardian Cocolia chose to block the entrance just a few months after we moved."
His gaze meets Gepard's, his words pointed. "We have no idea if our friends are still alive down there."
The Silvermane Captain's response is measured as he leans forward, his elbows resting on the table. "The decision Supreme Guardian Cocolia made that day was a difficult one. It's an unfortunate reality that we weren't able to help fend off the Fragmentum."
"I don't blame you, Captain."
Gepard frowns, prodding further as he picks at his food. "Your uncle brought you to the overworld, you say. Who was he?"
"A humble mechanic and part-time artist who loved playing the guitar. Your sister would have adored him." Xander's eyes sparkle with fondness at the memory.
"What was his name?"
"William."
"No last name?"
Xander stops eating, setting his fork down with a clink. His tone turns serious. "Not everyone is fortunate enough to be born with a last name, Captain."
Pela's eyes widen, and she kicks Gepard under the table, causing him to wince and shoot her a questioning look.
Dan chimes in. "What he's trying to say is, we're orphans and never got one."
Xander interjects smoothly, his hand waving in the air as if to clear the tension. "It's alright, Dan. He didn't know. Could you pass me the salt, please? And Gepard, no offense taken."
Dan complies, passing the salt shaker across the table as he dips his bread into his soup. He remarks aloud, "The soup's got enough salt already."
His brother smirks at him, a playful glint in his eye. "You know I like my food a bit saltier."
Gepard raises an eyebrow, puzzled. "Blood sugar issues?"
"Ah, I see..." he trails off, the awkwardness growing as he stirs his soup.
Xander, for his part, maintains his composure. "It's true, though. Our parents passed away when we were young. Our uncle took us in, but he's gone too now."
Shaking his head, as if pushing away painful memories, he adds, "We're trying to start fresh here, leave the past behind."
Guilt twists in Gepard's gut for pressing the matter, but his suspicions linger. He decides to try a different approach, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.
"I hope you're settling in well. What made you apply at Serval's workshop, specifically?"
Surprise flickers across Xander's features as he takes a bite of his bread. "The moment I heard about it, I figured it was worth a shot to ask. It seemed like a good opportunity to establish myself as a skilled mechanic in the area."
He turns to Serval, offering her a warm smile. "Your sister has been an incredible friend and mentor to me, even in this short time. I deeply respect her and the work she does."
Serval returns the smile, clearly charmed by Xander's words.
Xander glances at Pela, nodding in her direction. "Actually, it was Miss Sergeyevna who first mentioned it to me. We met by chance, and she suggested I try my luck and see if the owner was hiring."
"Is that so, Pela?"
Pela blinks, not expecting to be brought into the conversation. She suddenly gets all flustered, nearly knocking over her drink. "Mister Xander approached me while I was guiding a group of kids through an academic history program."
March jumps in, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "They were an absolute delight. Miss Pela, you have a real talent for explaining history in a way that's thorough and easy to follow without overwhelming anyone with details."
"Thank you, Miss March, but I don't think I'm quite that good! Aside from a few, most of the young ones weren't all that interested in hearing about our city's history."
Dan interjects, his fork paused midway to his mouth as he offers his perspective. "That's to be expected. Our appreciation for subjects like history often doesn't develop until we're older and more mature. As kids, we're so easily enchanted by everything new around us that it's hard to stop and really ponder one thing in depth."
Xander laughs, nodding in agreement as he reaches for his napkin. "Fair point. But even among adults, you don't find many who are genuinely interested in history, which I find baffling. Some of the most entertaining and dramatic stories are found in history books, wouldn't you agree, Miss Sergeyevna? I got chills reading about Alisa Rand's 30-year defense of Belobog during its construction."
Pela's eyes light up with enthusiasm as she leans forward eagerly. "I couldn't agree more! For me, Richard Balakin's notes are a treasure trove. Reading his work inspired me while I was studying at the Belobog Cadet School."
"
Before Pela can begin to gush, the captain cuts in, his tone cautious as he sets down his fork with a clink. "You seem to know an awful lot about our history. It's intriguing, considering underworld dwellers haven't always viewed us favorably. Especially after the Supreme Guardian decided to close the entrance to their homes."
Xander shrugs, a small smile playing on his lips. "What can I say? I've always been fascinated by it, particularly Belobog's rich and unique past. There's so much to learn and discover."
Gepard narrows his eyes. He leans forward, his fingers steepled under his chin. "Is that right? Based on what you've told me, am I correct in assuming you didn't graduate from any Belobogian institute?"
"You're correct. Given our circumstances, I chose to start working at a very young age. I wanted to ensure that both March and Dan could pursue a formal education."
Serval's eyes glint with admiration as she asks, "That's incredibly admirable. Did they also graduate from BCS?"
Xander's eyes widen for a fraction of a second, but
Gepard couldn't help it. It was an immediate, involuntary response as he recoiled. "The institute named after arguably the worst Supreme Guardian in our history?"
Pela and Serval both kick him under the table, hard enough to make the silverware rattle.
Xander's eyes narrow, and for a brief second, they seem to flash with an unreadable emotion. Did they just get brighter? "...Are you implying something, Captain?"
Gepard realizes his grievous faux pas, his face flushing with embarrassment. "Pardon my manners. I owe you three an apology. That response was unbecoming of the Captain of the Silvermane Guards and of a brother who understands the challenges of paving the way for younger siblings." He briefly exchanges a glance with Serval, acknowledging her. "Please allow me to explain where my reaction came from."
Xander had stopped eating, his hand resting over March's above the table as she looks at her brother in surprise. "Go on..."
Gepard feels as if the temperature has dropped, the chill seeping into his bones like when he stood atop that northern rampart, watching the strange beings from the Fragmentum form a broiling swarm amid the distant snow.
"Qlipoth as my witness, I have nothing but the utmost respect for our history as Belobogians. Since I was a child, I swore I would become the strongest shield of this city in the fight against the Fragmentum. That's paved a difficult road in learning hard lessons to become as competent as I can be to accomplish that goal. Along the way, I've met many who've spoken about having similar desires, yet didn't put in the bare minimum effort to uphold the ideals set by our forefathers."
Gepard looks down, frowning as he traces the grain of the wooden table with his finger. "Some are even members of our own troops. It's honestly embarrassing, and their attitude clearly shows a lack of respect for the sacrifices made over centuries to ensure humanity's survival on this planet. I'd be done with them myself, but our situation is so precarious we can't afford to turn away any available manpower."
Sighing, he meets Xander's gaze, his eyes searching. "Cyrille Rand is... one of the most controversial figures in our history, if not the most controversial, precisely because she fell short of that ideal. Unlike her sister Cyrilla Rand, the person originally set to become the next Supreme Guardian, Cyrille was an extremely mediocre child, inept in social situations. Through no fault of her own, she was dragged into the devious plans of the then Minister of Internal Affairs, Stefan Marquez, who managed to make Cyrilla disappear and appoint Cyrille, whom he had favor over, so he could gain political power and manipulate the government behind the scenes."
"It was a very dark period in our history that ended in a coup. Cyrille's name has since gained a bad omen, and thus, the institution named after her hasn't always been looked upon as having the best of reputations. I assumed this was common knowledge for you," he finished.
The man across the table looks at him with no signs of emotion on his face, immutable. Then, he just nods, continuing to eat his food, which makes Gepard feel as if he's just defused a bomb that had been about to explode. Yet, the silence becomes unbearable after seconds.
Serval attempts to redirect the conversation, her voice a welcome reprieve from the tension. "Dan, Xander mentioned you wanted to be a cook?"
Dan nods, relief washing over his features as he latches onto the change in subject. "It's been a dream of mine since I was little. I'm currently applying for a job in the kitchen staff at the Goethe Hotel."
The rockstar's eyebrows rise, impressed. "That's setting the bar high for yourself. I've known many who've tried and failed to get a job there."
Pela jumps in, her eyes wide with awe. "Indeed. It's extremely exclusive as the only premium resort experience remaining in Belobog. I've heard from colleagues they average around two job openings per year, and even that's not guaranteed. Their personnel is already among the best Belobog can offer."
Dan shrugs, a confident smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Xander has never allowed me to settle for less."
Gepard nods in approval, liking what he hears. Their family had always pushed them to excel, upholding high standards of excellence, no matter the domain. "You're setting an admirable goal for yourself, Dan."
"Some goals seem to be more admirable than others, isn't that right, Gepard?" Serval comments offhandedly as she eats from her soup, her tone casual.
Gepard bites his tongue. "We're Landaus, sister. No matter our father's opinion, we strive for nothing less than our best."
Serval dismisses his words with a hum, lacking sincerity. "I'm happy it works for you."
Sensing the awkward tension, Pela turns to March, changing the subject. "March, you designed your outfit yourself, right?"
"Yes, actually! I've always dreamed of creating my own apparel brand." She launches into an explanation of how she came up with the design of her sailor-esque outfit, her hands gesturing animatedly as she speaks.
Xander chimes in, "She has this wall filled with pictures of interesting things, places, and people she likes."
March blushes, her fork pointed at Xander accusingly. "Wait, you've been going into my room without permission?"
In response, she receives a playful head-chop to her head. "I don't have to go into your room to know that, considering how many pictures you take with your camera."
March pouts, her eyes gaining a mischievous glint. "I haven't taken a picture with you yet. When will we? You promised, remember?"
Xander glances around the table, catching Serval and Pela's disapproving looks and Dan's smirk. He blushes slightly. "I—I did promise. Whenever you want to take it, I'll be ready, March."
Gepard turns to March, curious. "So, how is Xander as a brother?"
March's eyes twinkle as she side-eyes Xander, clearly considering how to tease him. The others, sans Xander, laugh, realizing her intent.
"He's very cold and unsocial," March begins, her tone playful. "He can be incredibly rude at times and likes to make fun of people at their expense." She pauses before continuing, her voice sincere. "But he's always been there for us when our father or uncle weren't around. He doesn't fear anything and will do whatever it takes to protect us, even if it means putting himself in harm's way to draw a monster's attention."
She concludes, "He's our older brother, and I love him for that."
Xander looks at March pensively, before he lowers his gaze, muttering a quiet, "Thank you, March."
Not one to miss an opportunity to tease, Serval turns to Dan. "What about you, Dan? What do you think of your dear older brother?"
Dan considers for a moment before responding. "We butt heads more often than not and frequently disagree on many things. Take yesterday for example. We had a tense discussion about how we'd proceed with the lease of the apartment we're planning to move to. But ultimately, he's one of the most competent people I've known, and the person I respect the most."
"Aww, isn't he a cutie-pie?" Serval coos teasingly.
"He is, unlike he'd led you to believe. In fact," Dan continues, a mischievous glint in his eye, "I woke up in the middle of the night and saw him tucking March in more snugly to protect her from the chill."
Xander's eyes widen in panic.
March blushes furiously. "He did what?"
Dan's eyes widen in disbelief, looking at Xander in a new light. "I... I was just teasing..."
Xander groans, face-palming as Serval, Gepard, and Pela burst out laughing.
Gepard observes the way the tension from the beginning of their conversation seems to dissipate as everyone engages in lighthearted chatter. Dan explains some of the recipes he's been working on to Pela, who listens intently, occasionally asking questions. March excitedly shares details about her latest dress designs with Serval, who nods along, offering suggestions and compliments.
Gepard finds himself drawn into a conversation with Xander about recent developments within the Silvermane Guards and the history of Belobog. He's impressed by Xander's knowledge and insights, though he can't quite place where he might have acquired such detailed information.
Before he realizes it, two hours have passed since their lunch began. He glances at the timepiece in his pocket and sighs. "I should get going," he announces, rising from his seat. "I'm needed back at my post, and it wouldn't look good for the captain to be late."
He offers a warm smile to the group. "It was a pleasure meeting all of you. I thoroughly enjoyed our conversation. Once more, I want to extend my apologies for any discomfort I may have caused. If you wouldn't mind," he says, turning to Dan and March, "I'd like to make it up to you both. I could put in a good word for Dan with some acquaintances at the Goethe Hotel. And while I'm not familiar with Miss March's line of work, I'm sure I can gather information from my colleagues."
March and Dan both seem ready to decline, but Gepard won't allow it. His honor won't accept a refusal. "Please, I owe you this much. I've presented an image I'm not proud of. If not for me, let me do it for my sister. My mistakes shouldn't tarnish her reputation."
As Gepard begins to bid his farewells, Xander suddenly stands, raising a hand. "Actually, Gepard, if you don't mind, I'd like a moment to discuss something with you. And Serval, I'd appreciate it if you could join us as well."
Serval blinks in surprise but nods, nervous. "Sure, Xander. No problem."
March, Dan, and Pela wish Gepard well, and he nods in acknowledgment before following Xander and Serval to a more secluded area.
Once they're out of earshot, Gepard asks, "What did you want to talk about?"
Xander hesitates, carefully choosing his words. "I hope I'm not overstepping, but I wanted to address the tension I sensed earlier during parts of our conversation."
Gepard's expression turns apologetic. "I'm aware of the faux pas I made. I sincerely apologize for making you and your siblings uncomfortable. It won't happen again."
"That's water under the bridge, Captain. No need to worry. I actually wanted to apologize to you both in case I brought up an awkward point about your family."
Both Gepard and Serval quickly reassure him. "No, no, you're not at fault."
She glances at Gepard, who raises an eyebrow in silent question. She nods, giving him permission to share. The man in turn, sighs, running a hand through his blonde hair.
"I think it's fair I at least explain the bare minimum, lest you leave with the wrong impression. I hope you don't mind me not sharing all the details, as it's a very private matter. The truth is, Serval and I haven't always had the best relationship with our father," he begins. "He's a very conservative man, set in his ways, and at times, unreasonable to speak to."
Serval's expression darkens. "He never took it well when I was kicked out of the Architects," she adds bitterly. "He never seemed to trust my side of the story, choosing to put more faith in the Supreme Guardian's words and decision."
Gepard hesitates, clearly uncomfortable with the topic. "I'm sure there's an explanation," he starts, trying to defend their father's actions. "Cocolia is our leader, and the entirety of Belobog's loyal to her, myself and our father included. He must believe she had valid reasons for her decision."
Serval whirls on him, her eyes flashing with anger. "Are you kidding me?" she snaps. "After all this time, you're still trying to defend him? Do you even believe me about what happened when they fired me from the research division?"
Gepard's jaw tightens, his own temper flaring. "What am I supposed to believe, Serval? You've never fully explained what happened or what project you were working on."
Serval's expression turns guarded, and she wraps her arms around herself protectively. "It was to protect you," she says quietly. "If she fired me for even working on that project, then who knows what she'd do to you if you suddenly decided to raise the topic. My problems shouldn't fall on your shoulders."
"Serval..." Gepard's voice softens.
"Both of you, stop," Xander interjects, breaking the siblings from their heated exchange. They turn to him, seemingly just remembering his presence.
He regards them both with concern. "As siblings, you should focus on lighter topics, not argue like this."
He pauses, considering his next words carefully. "Gepard, who do you trust the most with your life?"
"Serval," he answers without hesitation.
"And you, Serval? Who do you trust the most?"
"Gepard," she replies, her voice quiet but firm.
Xander's smile widens. "If you have such faith in each other, such unwavering trust, then extend that same trust to each other's words and actions, even when you don't have the full picture."
"As for your father," he continues carefully, "I can't speak much on the matter. I wouldn't like to, for that fact. But..."
He hesitates, taking a step back. "I'm sorry. It's not my place."
Serval steps forward, grabbing his arm. "No, Xander! Please—we... we wouldn't mind hearing what you have to say."
Xander looks to the floor for a minute. Serval only lets go when he nods to them both. "Let's just say I didn't always see eye-to-eye with my old man either..."
Serval raises an eyebrow.
Xander grunts, shaking his head. "Yes. In spite of our differences, in spite of our failings and mistakes... I..."
For the first time in their entire interaction, he seems at a loss.
"I know that deep down, he truly meant well and wanted the best for me. And I... I miss him."
The winds of the northern mountains of Belobog carry the rest of his words. "I miss him a lot."
They all fall silent for quite some time, the sounds of the plaza filling in the empty space.
Finally, he meets their gazes again, his expression earnest. "Acknowledging the truth about my old man's intentions didn't necessarily mean maintaining an active, positive relationship with him. But simply acknowledging this perspective was enough to give me peace."
Gepard leans forward, his eyes locked on Xander as he speaks. As his words sink in, the captain's expression shifts, a glimmer of understanding dawning in his eyes. "I appreciate your thoughtful words. Truly, I do."
Serval turns to her brother, her lips pressed together in a thin line. As their gazes meet, the tension in her face eases, replaced by a softer, more vulnerable look. "He speaks for us both." She reaches up, her fingers combing through her hair as she exhales heavily. "It's not easy, but... we'll see."
A smile tugs at the corners of Xander's mouth, his eyes crinkling with satisfaction. "I'm glad you two understand."
Gepard offers him a grateful nod. "I should get going now, but I hope to see you again when I visit the Neverwinter workshop next time."
As he begins to turn away, a mischievous thought crosses Gepard's mind. He glances over his shoulder at Serval, a teasing grin spreading across his face. "By the way, sister, I can see why you like him!"
Serval's eyes widen, her cheeks flushing a deep crimson. "Gepard!"
Chuckling to himself, Gepard quickly makes his exit, not wanting to stick around and face Serval's wrath. He can already imagine her reaching for her trusty electric guitar, ready to shock him with a bolt of lightning.
As he makes his way back to his post, Gepard can't help but feel a sense of lightness in his heart. Despite the initial awkwardness and tension, the conversation turned out to be a positive experience.
Little does he know, the next time he crosses paths with Xander, the circumstances will be far from the casual, friendly atmosphere of the Neverwinter workshop.
Instead, he will find himself standing face-to-face with the man, a gun trained on his target, acting on orders to apprehend him for suspected terrorist activities.
——————————————————————
Himeko shifts in her plush velvet seat as the Astral Express hums gently around her. Across the chessboard, Welt furrows his brow, studying the pieces intently. His queen moves deftly, capturing Xander's rook. Satisfaction curves his lips.
"I'm glad we're doing this," Welt says, leaning back. "Queen takes rook."
Xander nods, surveying the board with a critical eye.
"Since we left the Herta Space Station, we haven't had the chance to—"
"—get to know each other better as fellow crewmates. I understand completely, Welt."
Rich laughter escapes Welt. "Not a moment's rest. One interstellar jump and suddenly derailed by a Stellaron. Quite the coincidence."
Xander raises placating hands. "You got me. I'm the one at fault."
Amusement sparkles in Himeko's eyes as she chuckles softly. It seems like he's finally opening up a bit...
Xander's voice grows serious. "I've been doing a lot of thinking."
"Never a bad thing."
"Maybe for you," Xander counters, self-deprecation coloring his tone. "Actually, I wanted to pick your brains a bit."
Leaning forward, he glances between Himeko and Welt. "You're two of the smartest people out there."
Welt waves a dismissive hand, ever humble. "Wildly debatable."
Undeterred, Xander presses on. He takes a deep breath, steadying himself.
Surprise flashes across Himeko's face. "Where's this coming from, Xander?"
A sigh escapes him as he runs a hand through his hair. "Oh, you know… Appearing in the middle of nowhere inside a space station, far from home, a Stellaron inserted into my body... Just struggling a bit."
Pensiveness settles over his features. "My family has always been drawn to rules. They're baked into our faith—hope you don't mind me talking about it. They're a big part of why I almost became a lawyer. We all figured out rules to live better. To not harm others, to help them. Mostly."
Himeko's curious. "Why didn't you become a lawyer?"
"Engineering paid better where I lived, and there was also…"
His gaze grows distant. "I digress. Lately... I can't tell what God's plan is for me. I find myself working against the rules of my faith or twisting their interpretation. Yet when I try to follow them, every signpost tells me not to."
Rueful amusement plays on his lips as he shakes his head. "So now I'm questioning..." He meets Welt's eyes searchingly. "So, Welt Yang, Himeko. Do you think there's a God?"
Welt regards Xander thoughtfully for a long moment before musing, "Curious that you're asking about faith of all things. Rather personal, don't you think?"
Xander grunts. "Ignore the question if it's too much trouble."
But Welt, ever thorough, leans forward, elbows on the table. He gathers his thoughts before speaking measuredly, "I assume you're not talking about Aeons right now, correct?"
Xander hesitates briefly before nodding.
Clearing his throat, Welt begins. "I'm a man of science. But that science has taken me to unimaginable places. Cosmic beings representing abstract ideas, traveling through worlds... I won't definitively say yes, because I haven't discovered one absolute being who created everything. But I won't say no either, because my experiences show me that there could be life beyond this one, and that truly anything is possible."
"So... you're agnostic," he summarizes.
Uncertainty tinges Welt's voice as he tilts his head. "I suppose? Would that term even work considering the existence of Aeons?" He makes his next chessboard move. "Knight to E6."
"I see your point," Xander concedes. "Aeons are as real as you or me. And people across the universe worship them."
Himeko chimes in thoughtfully, "Agnosticism as a term has evolved over time, especially after the discovery of interstellar travel. It's no longer about the lack of belief in gods themselves, but a philosophy whose adherents believe that gods and their actions are ultimately unknowable. They think it's impossible to truly know which powers are divine—and thus worthy of worship and adoration—and which aren't."
Grave solemnity marks Welt's features as he nods. "While there may be a God, I strongly suspect they wouldn't lay out variations on textual rules for humankind. Or that one religion would be the 'correct' one. I think they'd instill in us an innate sense of right and wrong, which we'd use to work out our morals and ethics in the forms of religion and laws."
He frowns. "But again, I could be mistaken. I know some find it hard to reconcile true suffering—lives created to experience nothing but pain and then death—with an all-controlling being who wills that into existence."
Xander leans back, carefully considering Welt's words. "But maybe, if God exists..." He hesitates a moment. "That's why he created you, someone with incredible power at his disposal, to be his hand, to save those people… to be a hero."
Though Welt raises an eyebrow, he doesn't interrupt as Xander continues.
"What would life be without choices and actions? Without giving us all something to overcome? Maybe your life and circumstances built you into someone who questions God. That's... part of the journey, what I'm doing now. But I guess... God isn't about logic. At least not any kind of 'logic' we can comprehend. That's why it's called faith."
A long silence follows before Welt slowly nods, a hint of a smile tugging at his mouth. "Well then, I suppose for you, the question is..." Thoughtfulness colors his tone. "Is your faith in the interpreted word of God? Or is it in what God has taught you? The moral center he's given you?"
With a gleam of triumph, he makes his final chessboard move. "Queen to B5. Checkmate."
Surprise flickers across Himeko's face as Xander raises his hands, chuckling. "We're 0-1 now."
"Actually, we're 0-0. I noticed you were a bit distracted during the entire game. You weren't exaggerating when you said you seemed to be doing a lot of thinking."
Pensiveness settles over Xander's features as he falls silent for a moment. "Yeah, well," he murmurs, his gaze distant. "It's not uncommon for me, is it?"
Warmth and understanding shine in Himeko's eyes as she regards him with a smile. "No, but the fact that you're sharing with us is welcomed. Thank you for trusting us with your thoughts and concerns, Xander."
Lost in thought, the latest Astral Express crewmate doesn't respond. Before Himeko can press further, Pom-pom's voice echoes through the Astral Express's speakers, requesting Welt's presence. "We may have detected another glance from Nanook," the conductor says, concern tingeing their tone. "We cannot confirm whether it's a false alarm or not."
Xander visibly tenses at the mention of Nanook's name, but Welt quickly moves to reassure him. "We've been experiencing numerous false alarms over the past 24 hours. While it's unnerving and a strange phenomenon, there's not much we can do in our current position to investigate further. I'll go check on the situation."
With a nod, Welt excuses himself, leaving Himeko and Xander alone. Himeko takes the opportunity to move to Welt's seat, beginning to reset the chessboard. As she does, she can't help but notice the dark circles under Xander's eyes.
"You look unwell," she remarks, concern lacing her voice. "Did you have trouble sleeping?"
Xander hesitates before nodding slowly. "I tried to sleep, but..."
Himeko raises an eyebrow, her body language conveying her intent to listen.
"I don't want to alarm you, but I think Nanook... glanced at me in my dreams."
Himeko's eyes widen slightly, but she remains composed, nodding for him to continue.
"I closed my eyes for a second," Xander explains, his gaze distant as he recalls the dream. "And then I found myself floating through space. I had no sense of direction; I couldn't tell up from down, right from left. I was just slowly moving towards this giant body with a massive scar across its chest – a scar that glowed brilliantly and seemed to bleed molten gold."
A shudder runs through him, haunted eyes meeting Himeko's. "These yellow, golden eyes stared at me, impassive and cold. I don't know if I should take it as an ominous signal or if I shouldn't be surprised," he muses. "It was only a matter of time before Nanook eventually looked my way. I hold a Stellaron within myself, after all. We're connected, whether I like it or not."
Without hesitation, Himeko reaches out, giving Xander's hand a gentle squeeze. "You're not alone in this, Xander," she says, her voice warm and reassuring. "You're a member of the Astral Express now, a part of our family. Your problems are our problems."
Surprise flickers across his face. "Just like that?" he asks, disbelief coloring his tone. "Sounds too easy."
Himeko shakes her head, a rueful smile playing on her lips. "It's anything but easy, but that's how things are with family sometimes. That doesn't mean we'll back down from supporting you."
To her surprise, Xander shakes his head and withdraws his hand from her grasp. "I don't deserve it."
Confusion mars Himeko's features. "You don't deserve it?" she repeats, a part of her feeling as though Xander
Perplexed, Xander glances up at her. "I don't understand what you mean."
Himeko's expression softens, a gentle smile gracing her lips. "I didn't realize you knew us so well that you could speak on our behalf and decide whether or not you're deserving of the support we're willingly giving you," she says, playful reproach lacing her voice.
"When we decided to take you in, none of us were under duress," she continues, her tone growing more serious. "Dan, March, Welt, Pom-pom, and I all consciously chose to let you join our group. Are you suggesting we're poor judges of character?"
Xander shakes his head.
"Then are you implying that you're less worthy than Dan, March, or Welt as a member of our crew?"
Opening his mouth to argue, Xander is cut off by Himeko, her expression resolute. "Who was the one person who saved us – who saved me – from the Doomsday Beast back at the Herta Space Station?"
"It was the Stellaron within me, not me," Xander tries to argue, but Himeko sighs, shaking her head.
"My memory must be fuzzy," she says, gentle sarcasm coloring her tone. "Because I distinctly recall a man jumping in front of me as I shielded March, drawing the Doomsday Beast's attention away from us while it rampaged. I didn't see a Stellaron doing that."
Falling silent, Xander's gaze drops to the chessboard as he ponders Himeko's words. Despite his aloof demeanor, she senses an internal struggle within him, a battle between pride and self-doubt.
"I want you to know… that I hope one day, you'll see the good that the Astral Express crew sees in you. The good that I see in you."
Xander's eyes flick up to meet hers, his expression unreadable. For a moment, Himeko wonders if she's overstepped a boundary, if her words have fallen on deaf ears. But then, to her surprise, he gives a slight nod, a silent acknowledgment of her sentiment.
Before she can respond, Xander rises abruptly from his chair, the legs scraping against the floor. Himeko arches an eyebrow in confusion, silently questioning his sudden movement.
"Aren't we going to play?" she asks, gesturing towards the board.
Pausing, Xander throws a glance over his shoulder. "We will," he assures her, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. "But first, I need to brew some coffee."
Bewilderment grows on Himeko's face. "Coffee?"
His smirk widens into a full-blown grin. "Yes. I need to make sure you become aware of what good coffee actually tastes like."
A challenge, then. Himeko can't help but chuckle at his bravado, rising from her own chair to follow him. "Feeling confident, are we?" she teases, falling into step beside him.
Himeko would go on to win the chess match.
However, she had to concede that Xander made the best coffee she'd ever tasted.
——————————————————————
Herta stares at Xander, dumbfounded as he hesitates at the Simulated Universe's entrance. A scoff escapes her, finding it almost comical that this man who faced Nanook without flinching now seems afraid to step into her simulation. A walking contradiction, that's what he is.
Marching up to him, impatience creeps into her voice. "Well? What's the issue, brat?"
Xander's gaze remains transfixed on the pulsing blue light emanating from the portal, eyes following the flowing energy with an almost hypnotic fascination. He briefly side-eyes Herta before returning his focus to the machine.
Hands on her hips, Herta purses her lips into a thin line. "So, spit it out already," she snaps. "I don't have all day."
Raising his hand in a placating gesture, palm facing down as if asking her to calm herself, Xander reaches into his coat's inner pocket. He retrieves a cross pendant, studying it intently for a moment before closing his eyes and muttering words under his breath, so faint that Herta can barely make them out.
Disinterest colors her expression as she eyes the cross pendant. What's so special about a trinket like that? However, the unfamiliar language Xander whispers catches her attention. Even the synesthesia beacon installed on her can't decipher the strange tongue.
"What language is that, boy?"
Xander pays her no mind, continuing his hushed utterances. Herta resists the urge to kick him, refusing to stoop to such lowly tactics. She won't fall so low. She won't!
Finally, Xander finishes his quiet chant, opening his eyes and gazing at the cross pendant once more. With a sigh, he tucks it back into his coat's inner pocket. Glancing over Herta's shoulder, he addresses Asta, a small smile playing on his lips. "I loved the coffee beans. If there's a chance you could provide me with more, I'd be grateful. I'll pay for them if it's an issue."
Asta's eyes widen before she returns Xander's smile. "Of course, it won't be a problem," she assures him.
Nodding, Xander shifts his gaze back to Herta. She raises an eyebrow expectantly. "So? What were you whispering? A mantra to better channel the powers of the Stellaron?"
Mirth fills his eyes as a chuckle escapes his lips. Turning around, he walks backwards into the portal.
Herta stares at the now-empty portal, then turns to Asta, confusion and frustration furrowing her brow. Did he just insult her? She feels insulted somehow.
Without warning, she stomps her foot, startling the astronomer.
——————————————————————
The grand chamber within Qlipoth Fort is an awe-inspiring sight.
Cocolia sits upon her throne-like chair atop a raised dais, surveying the immense vaulted ceilings soaring high overhead. Rows of lofty arched windows line the walls, casting dappled patterns of light across the intricately tiled floor. The room's architecture breathtakingly blends ornate stonework and sleek metallic accents, a melding of old-world grandeur and futuristic innovation.
At the far end, a massive stained-glass mural dominates the wall, depicting the Aeon Qlipoth in radiant detail. The mural's vibrant colors cast a warm, ethereal glow throughout the chamber, bathing Cocolia's seat in an otherworldly light that commands respect and reverence.
The council members are arrayed in a semicircle before her, their well-appointed chairs facing inward. Each architect is garbed in crisp uniforms befitting their status, projecting an air of utmost propriety and discipline. Yet despite their austere demeanors, the chamber's splendor lends an almost sacred ambiance to the proceedings.
Amidst the grandeur of the chamber, Cocolia maintains a regal bearing, her posture poised and unwavering. However, beneath her composed exterior, a dull throbbing pain pulses behind her eyes. She remains stoic, unwilling to let anyone see her discomfort and ask questions, determined to focus on the matters at hand.
Captain Gepard's voice rings clear and formal as he briefs the council on the latest patrol findings. "My troops have not encountered any signs of fragmentum monsters breaching the city walls," he states. "We thoroughly double-checked all the northern districts and even revised the sealed passage to Backwater Pass. There is no evidence to suggest a threat has infiltrated Belobog."
A severe-looking man with graying hair, one of the council members, nods towards Bronya. "And what of your report, Commander?"
Rising from her seat, determination etched on her features, Bronya begins, "My squad patrolled the southern districts throughout the day. Like the Captain's findings, we did not detect any fragmentum monsters or signs of their presence within the city limits." A slight crease forms between her brows. "However, I cannot help but worry that we may have missed something. I would feel more at ease continuing the search."
Massaging her forehead, Cocolia fights against the intensifying ache. "Be at ease, Commander," she says, her words slightly strained. "Captain, did your troops identify any threats lingering outside of Belobog's walls?"
Gepard shakes his head. "No, Supreme Guardian. Though we did encounter a lone individual buried beneath layers of snow during our sweep." His expression hardens. "Upon questioning, he was revealed to be a notorious con man, widely known for tricking Belobog's citizens to set up larger heists or evade capture. He has operated under the alias
A portly man with a bald head, one of the council members, lets out a surprised exclamation. "The Madam Brughel Poisson? Finally!" When the others turn to look at him, his face flushes red and he fidgets uncomfortably. "Ah, it's just... the Minister of Security had all the wigs in Belobog seized in hopes of apprehending him. My wife will be pleased to have her preferred one returned."
Another council member, a sharp-featured woman, sighs loudly and rolls her eyes. "How wonderful," she drawls sarcastically. "I'm sure that crucial detail will aid us in confronting the looming threat. Alisa Rand, mighty Qlipoth bless her soul, would even be proud."
An elderly woman with kind eyes, a third member, raises a placating hand. "Now, now, let's not get carried away." She turns her attention to Cocolia. "Supreme Guardian, if you would be so kind, could you share any more details regarding the vision you spoke of earlier?"
Cocolia remains silent, her fingers continuing to massage her throbbing temples. The pain intensifies, making it difficult to focus.
"Supreme Guardian?" Bronya's voice is laced with concern, nearly breaking protocol. "Are you well?"
Forcing a smile, Cocolia meets her daughter's worried gaze. "I'm fine, Commander. Just a headache that will pass." She addresses the rest of the council. "Thank you all for your reports. I believe a brief recess is in order. Let us reconvene in ten minutes' time and I will share what I can regarding the vision. You're all dismissed to remain here."
Bronya moves to protest. "Should I call for the maids to assist with—"
"That won't be necessary," Cocolia cuts her off gently. "A short walk is all I need. I'll return shortly." With those words, she swiftly exits the council chamber.
The moment the heavy doors shut behind her, Cocolia's steps falter, her eyes squeezing shut as the pain becomes almost unbearable. Using the corridor wall for support, she leans against it, gritting her teeth.
"What is it I'm not seeing?" she murmurs, feeling as though she's missing a crucial piece of the puzzle.
An ominous, distorted chorus of voices, both male and female, adults and children, suddenly echoes in her mind. "He's here," the eerie tones reverberate. "The aberration. It's here, within the confines of your citadel."
Eyes widening, Cocolia gasps out, "Aberration? What do you mean?"
"He's within these walls, hidden. Waiting to strike. He'll ruin you. He'll ruin your dearest daughter."
Tears leak from the corners of Cocolia's tightly shut eyes as she struggles against the agony. "Who is he?" she grits out. "Where can I find him? How can I kill him?"
A series of fragmented images flashes before her mind's eye, gradually coalescing into a stained glass window depicting a man's face. Tanned skin. Rich brown hair. Eyes like molten gold.
"Not of this world. Not of this plane. Inconsistent and incongruent. An anomaly."
Cocolia's breath catches in her throat. "Someone... from beyond the skies?"
"Unknown. Can't know. Can't discern. Can't see."
Desperation claws at her heart. "Guide me, then!" she pleads. "Point me to him and I'll have his head!"
"Act fast, Supreme Guardian. The new world awaits, and a demon has just set its eyes on burning it down."
The presence retreats, the voices fading until silence rings in Cocolia's ears once more. She sucks in a ragged breath, the pain finally subsiding enough for her to regain her feet.
"Mother!"
Bronya's frantic voice reaches her from down the hall. The sound of hurried footsteps grows louder until her daughter appears, rushing towards her with panic etched across her features.
"Mother, are you well?" Bronya asks urgently, reaching out to support her. "Shall we take you to the infirmary? Please, allow me to accompany you, at least—"
Cocolia silences her with a tight embrace, pulling her close. "It's alright," she murmurs, her heart thundering in her chest, resolution settling over her like a mantle.
Stiffening in surprise for a moment, Bronya relaxes into the hug, her arms coming up to return it. "Mother..." she whispers, confused but unwilling to pull away.
Holding her daughter tighter, Cocolia vows silently to locate this threat—this demon from beyond—and eradicate it. Not even atoms will remain when she is through.
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Countdown to Belobog's Long Night of Solace: 5 days remaining.
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