Moonlight Squad Headquarters.
"Down! Up! Again! One more time!" Laylla's orders were sharp, relentless, echoing across the training room.
With his military experience back on Earth, Anthony didn't dare to defy his new captain — even though every push-up made him want to curse her silently.
Should I ask the captain… or maybe someone from the squad… about yesterday? Perhaps Snow, the cook…
Honestly, I even got a little excited thinking I might have gained some kind of super strength.
By morning Anthony had confirmed there were no abnormalities in him, and none of the squad members reported seeing anything out of the ordinary.
Naturally, he had hoped some extraordinary power had awakened within him — but reality had other plans. Only his body had fully recovered from both the muscle soreness and the lingering pain from the mysterious hall. Everything was practically gone.
"The pace wasn't bad… for a weakling like you," Laylla said, squatting next to him. He was sweating as if he were in a sauna, holding his position for the next repetition. "Why slow down?"
He didn't answer. Not that he couldn't speak between labored breaths — he just wasn't inclined to feed her provocations. So he pushed on, picking up the pace again. His body felt lighter than the day before, muscles gradually adapting to the new rhythm. And he felt he still had energy to spare.
He watched her rise, muttering something he couldn't hear over the pounding of his own pulse.
After a moment, Anthony cleared his throat.
"Captain," he called, moving up and down again. "Can I ask you something?"
"What is it?"
"What are 'hods'?"
Laylla scratched her chin, looking at him with an unchanged expression.
"I don't know," she said flatly.
"Right…" Anthony felt a pang of disappointment. "Then… another question."
She kept her gaze on him as he did push-ups.
"Where… are we?" he asked, breathless. "I mean, the city's name?"
She paused for a moment before answering.
"You really don't know?" Her voice mixed suspicion with curiosity. "Or are you pretending?"
Ah… she's still a bit suspicious about me, about me saying I'm not from here. Fair enough. If someone showed up on Earth claiming to be from another planet, I wouldn't believe it either.
I was recruited so suddenly. She's the captain, yes, but someone else must've decided I'd join the squad.
I need to start learning everything I can about this world, fast. It'll help me understand the floating table map, too — all those symbols and markings, but no words to indicate locations.
"Nikz, capital of the Molren Kingdom," Laylla replied absentmindedly, snapping her fingers casually. "By the way," she continued, "if you don't fight or use magic, what are you good at? And while we're at it—do you have connections? Friends, family, a fiancée, a wife?"
His expression darkened, distant.
Answering honestly was difficult; anything less could have him labeled useless. On Earth, he had been recruited into the army and had risen quickly, but a scandal got him discharged. He still had knowledge of combat and survival, though his body had grown rusty over the years of inactivity.
Then came college, and early on he found an internship. It went well, and he was hired, leading him to suspend his studies. When he turned 18, his parents gave him a small sum of money, subtly "encouraging" him to be independent — a polite way of saying he was being kicked out.
Seen as "a bit odd" or nerdy for his love of games and fantasy, he had few friends. As for women… things hadn't been better. Now, he was in a fantastical, epic world where he was a complete unknown.
"None," he answered the first question, flexing harder. "I have no one here," his voice deepening for the second answer.
I'll change this. I want… I need to change.
"Ugh, why so sentimental?" she scoffed. Laylla waited a few moments, pressing his pinky until it clicked. "Alright, that's enough for today."
He moved, and after one last repetition, he sat on the sweat-damp floor. He took a deep breath, looking at the captain.
She stood impassively, then walked past him, giving his thigh a heel tap.
"After your shower, go to Fox's room." She walked past him, nudging him on the thigh with her heel.
"Yes… Captain."
…
In a corridor along an open-air wall, its structure standing prominently against the surrounding landscape, a young blonde-haired, blue-eyed woman gazed across the vast horizon.
Her hands trembled slightly from nervousness, and she wished they wouldn't. She knew others could notice the habit, and it would be easy to mock her if they wanted. Her mind swirled with thoughts, ideas, and questions.
Noticing someone approaching again, she placed her hands on the parapet, hiding the tremor.
"Earlier, you said I was free as long as I didn't leave the complex… so why are you still following me?" Her voice carried a hint of irritation.
"Until the commander's orders change, I'm your bodyguard," Niora said, sweeping her golden hair behind her ear. "Should be used to it by now. Didn't your father treat you that way?"
"Yes… but I'd rather be watched at home, around people I know," Emily pouted, oblivious to the gesture.
Niora's facial muscles relaxed as she slowly turned her head, tinged with disdain.
"Alright, princess," she said, delivering the royal title almost like an insult. "I get that you're not happy. You're new, but don't be naive. You're an Ascendant now — part of something big and dangerous."
"But I could've stayed at the castle," Emily pressed. "Protected by my father…"
"You…" Niora's frustration boiled, her hand gripping the hilt of her sheathed sword. "Didn't you hear a word I just said?"
Emily's eyes widened, hands damp, unsure of what to say or if she should say anything. The afternoon breeze tangled her hair, bringing no comfort.
"I… I…" she started.
"Just think," Niora's commanding tone froze her blood. "If we hadn't shown up, Moonlight Squad would have taken you. Mission accomplished for them. Who knows what they'd do with you. And worse — what if 'Icaos' had come after you?" She leaned forward, voice heavy. "Your father knows they're a problem group and yet does nothing about their meeting point in Tânoa."
"Even though it was a kidnapping, you weren't mistreated. You've been well cared for; we offer protection and a path forward. Maybe looking from a wider perspective will help you see new opportunities." Niora's fingers relaxed, releasing the sword hilt.
Her words pierced Emily's attempt to argue or respond. For a princess long overprotected, being confronted head-on without needing someone else to act for her was terrifying. Small shivers ran across her body, turning into a light, strangely relaxing tingling.
Emily looked at Niora again, softer now, when a third voice cut in.
"That's why no man can stand you, huh? Even women find you annoying. Seriously, even if your mission is just to watch the princess, can't you lighten up the mood, Niora?" A tall man with fair skin, brown hair, and casual loose clothing teased.
A vein popped on Niora's forehead.
"What do you want, Yan? Oh, have you recovered from that blow from the weird guy?" She scoffed, mocking.
Yan approached, feigning offense.
"You got lucky he went after me instead of you. And he appeared out of nowhere," he quipped. "Oh, Vice Commander Reivan called a quick meeting. Then back to princess-watching."
Niora sighed, nodded, and followed her squadmate.
Emily summoned courage.
"Miss Niora… thank you," she said slowly.
Without looking back, Niora let a faint smile threaten her lips.
"No need to thank me. Just think about the commander's offer. And you can call me just Niora."
As Niora neared the corridor's corner, she added:
"You didn't panic or scream under pressure — one point for that."
Emily smiled at the comment, then returned to her thoughts once Yan and Niora descended the wall stairs and left her sight.
Was Yan talking about Anthony back then? What happened to him?
…
Nikz, Moonlight Squad HQ.
The door creaked open. The room was tidier now, with fewer boxes scattered. Fox sat behind a desk, jotting notes. She glanced at him briefly.
"Ah, it's you, Anthony," her soft voice greeted. "What do you need?"
"Uh…" He hesitated. Did he mishear his captain's orders? "The captain told me to come here after training."
Fox stopped writing, ruffling her black hair, and laughed. Anthony tilted his head, wondering if he'd said something wrong.
"I handle the squad's resources. If the captain sent you, it means you want or need something." She twirled a pencil between her fingers.
"I see. But usually it takes you a while to fill requests, like the captain's 'fings'?" He couldn't forget the scene from the previous day.
"N-no, that was just… never mind." She dropped the pencil when Anthony broke her concentration. "But tell me — what do you need?"
"I want to learn more about the kingdoms, the people, geography… you know what geography is, right?" He put a hand to his forehead, questioning his choice of words.
"So, you're a scholar type? Heh. Yes, I know what geography is."
Relief washed over Anthony. Worst case, he'd have to define the word, something he definitely wouldn't know how to do.
"Also, I shouldn't forget — sorry about yesterday." Anthony spoke as Fox leaned to pick up the pencil.
"It's fine, Laylla's just dramatic," she said, looking down. "Anything else?"
Anthony felt awkward but kept his neutral expression.
"Can I request a weapon? Like a sword?" He swallowed hard.
"You're a mercenary — you can request a weapon. A sword suits a mercenary far more than books." She chuckled softly. "Have you ever studied at an academy?"
Does 'academy' here mean the same as college?
"Yes, something like that."
Fox quickly got up, rummaged through a shelf, and within a minute, Anthony held a book.
"That was quicker than I expected." At some point, Tom's mind had labeled Fox teaseable. Maybe because he'd just noticed how short she was, barely reaching his chest.
"Tsk… jokester." She shook her head. "Oh, and the rental is three zenns a day. You owe me three."
He stared, dumbfounded.
Three zenns? Looks like some kind of currency. Not too expensive, right?
"What's that, it was just a silly joke" holding the book with only one hand, Anthony opened his arms.
"You would have to pay anyway. Could make it five zenns for teasing." She twisted her tongue, looking down on him.
"N-no, three is fine… but I… don't have money." He scratched the back of his neck, smiling in a self-deprecating way.
Fox shrugged, returning to her chair. Anthony connected the dots and left the room.
Yeah, I need missions to earn money.
Leaving the room, he headed to the kitchen.
Snow, the cook with sparse facial hair, was standing asleep, hand resting on the brick oven — surely hot.
Anthony approached, gently nudging his shoulder. Snow startled.
"Ow!" He glanced at his hand, then at Anthony.
"Ah, good afternoon, Anthony," he said, waving his hand before pressing it to his apron.
How does he sleep with his hand on a hot oven? He must be used to burns… still, weird.
Anthony sat. Snow served him red bread with sevag—a spicy herb cream—and pineapple slices to cut the heat.
Snow pointed thrice to the sky, touching his chest in thanks to the Violet Maiden. Anthony waited patiently for the ritual to finish.
After finishing the meal, he stared at Snow.
"Snow, can I ask you something?"
"Sure," still sleepy, he untied his apron.
"Do you know who the people in blue were that took the princess?"
"Yes. They're from the mercenary squad SYNC, very active in the empire region." Snow sat across from him.
"Right… while helping the princess, she mentioned a prophecy. Do you know it?"
"The prophecy…" Snow's expression was reverent. "It said: 'From the wooden crown shall arise the change of winds.'"
It sounds like a prophecy. But I have no idea what it means. Wait... was the prophecy referring to me? Nah, I can't even think of anything that has anything to do with that "wooden crown". It makes more sense that it's the princess.
Anthony murmured, raising and lowering his eyebrows.
"One more thing." He hesitated, weighing whether to reveal last night's events.
"Last night, I saw… a hand. It said it gave me a new chance at life. Should I worry?"
Even with Veyrael's instructions, curiosity gnawed at him. He only mentioned the hand, omitting the part about the floating table and object he had received.
"Yes and no." Snow closed his eyes, tired.
"What?" That wasn't the answer he expected.
Snow shifted, trying to get comfortable.
"For now, you don't need to worr—" His head dropped. A snore echoed.
Snow slept sitting up. Anthony poked him several times, in vain.
So that's how he slept on the oven…
Anthony stifled a laugh, lucky no one else was around. He left the dining area without adjusting Snow's position.
—
The flapping of wings, accompanied by a buzzing sound, ended Snow's snore. His eyes focused on a bat flying near the table.
After circling it, the bat descended, its body enveloped in a black-and-scarlet aura, shaping into a human form.
This was a man whose height remained somewhat elevated, even though he was seated at the table. He waited a few seconds, as the sound of footsteps from the hallway soon descended the stairs to the first floor and receded. Fox's and the dining rooms were the only spaces on the second floor of Moonlight HQ, and the retreating footsteps were Anthony's.
Crossing his legs, his translucent red eyes fixed on Snow.
"Did you manage to talk to him?" His voice was calm, balanced perfectly.
"Yes, a bit yesterday and today," the cook straightened.
"What's your opinion of him?" The bat-man remained relaxed.
"My opinion… He seems good-hearted. No obvious malice." Snow pressed his burned hand to the table. "Also, he said he saw The Hand."
A subtle, ambiguous smile broke the calm of the bat-man.
"Seems you were right — the mission to capture Princess Emily wasn't a total failure."