The resort slept under a bruised-violet sky.
Wind crawled over the balconies, carrying the scent of pine and the thin, metallic chill that comes only from mountain air moments before rain. The hallway lights had dimmed to a faint amber glow, leaving long stripes of shadow across the carpets. Somewhere far below, thunder grumbled like an animal turning in its sleep.
Arthur lay on his bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling. The digital clock on the nightstand glowed 12:57 A.M. Three minutes until Kuro's message became real.
Every tick felt louder than his own heartbeat.
Across the hall, Alia sat at the edge of her bed, fully dressed, her phone clutched tight. The same message glared on the screen like a wound that refused to close.
> "When everyone sleeps, at 1:00 AM, meet me at the back of the resort. The gate will be open. Don't wake anyone."
She exhaled once, steady but shallow. The walls seemed to press closer with every passing second.
---
1:00 A.M.
Arthur eased the door open.
The hinges protested softly, and he winced. Beyond the threshold, the corridor stretched empty—lined with muted wallpaper and dark wooden beams. Every step he took was careful, soundless, guided only by the faint hum of emergency lights.
When he turned the corner, he nearly collided with Alia.
She was already there, hoodie pulled over her head, eyes sharp and tired.
"You got the message too," he whispered.
She nodded. "Of course. You think I could sleep after that?"
They exchanged a glance—brief, wordless—then moved together down the silent corridor. Their parents' rooms stayed dark as they passed. Each door felt like a fragile border between safety and the unknown.
At the end of the hall, a side exit led toward the back garden. The electronic lock blinked green as they pushed; the latch clicked open far too easily.
"Kuro must've overridden it," Arthur murmured.
Alia didn't answer. The night outside swallowed her reply.
---
The Back of the Resort
The back terrace dropped abruptly into a narrow walkway that hugged the cliff. Far below, Lake Vern shimmered through the fog like a half-awake mirror. The surface was so still it looked unreal—an enormous eye staring up at them.
Cold mist clung to their clothes. A drizzle had begun, quiet but piercing, each drop a tiny needle of ice against their skin.
They waited. The only sound was the rain tapping on the metal rails and the faint murmur of the mountain wind.
Then, from the deeper shadow near the storage shed, a figure stepped forward.
---
Sui Hiroshi
Kaito's father looked different in the dim light—taller, sharper, his expression carved from stone. His jacket was dark, waterproof, his eyes reflecting a restrained storm.
"You came," he said quietly.
Arthur and Alia both nodded.
"Kuro said we'd meet here," Alia whispered. "But he's late."
Sui's gaze flicked toward the cliff. "He'll come. He never sends an instruction without watching its result."
A silence fell. Only the rain spoke for them.
Arthur looked over the railing. "How far do you think that is?"
Sui followed his eyes. "Hundred meters. Maybe more. Straight down into the lake. You wouldn't survive the fall."
"Comforting," Arthur muttered.
The drizzle thickened, becoming a light rain. It hissed softly as it hit the stone tiles. The temperature dropped so fast that Alia's breath turned white in the air.
Minutes crawled by.
Alia rubbed her arms. "Why would he tell us to meet here? There's nothing—no path, no tunnel—just a drop."
Sui didn't answer. His eyes were scanning the fog, calculating. The unease in his posture was new—less the calm of an experienced agent, more the caution of a man walking into an ambush.
---
Kuro's Arrival
A sound cut through the rain.
Footsteps—measured, unhurried—approaching from the opposite side of the terrace.
From the veil of mist emerged a figure in a long black coat, the hem trailing like smoke. His pale hair caught the faint light; his eyes, those cold gray crescents, curved in something between a smile and apology.
"Did you guys wait for me?"
His voice was casual, almost playful. "Sorry for being late. Weather slowed me down."
Arthur took a step forward, jaw tightening. "Kuro… what is this? What are we even doing here?"
Sui's tone was harder. "You told us to meet. Now tell me—what happens next?"
Kuro tilted his head, water dripping from his hair. "What happens next? Ah, Hiroshi… you still think I plan everything."
He laughed softly—a thin, hollow sound swallowed by the rain. "Sometimes the plan is just the fall."
Arthur frowned. "What?"
Before anyone could move, Kuro's expression shifted—smile gone, eyes bright with something unreadable.
He sprinted forward.
"Wait—!" Sui barked, stepping in front of the two teenagers.
Kuro didn't stop. His momentum crashed into them with sudden force, a blur of movement and rain. The world spun—railing, sky, fog—all twisting into a single motion.
And then there was nothing under their feet.
---
The Fall
The cliff opened its mouth and swallowed them.
Wind howled past their ears. The rain became knives against their skin.
Arthur's scream was lost in the thunder of air. Alia's hands flailed, searching for something—anything—to hold. Sui tried to grab them, but gravity tore his grip away.
Kuro… what are you doing?!
The thought ripped through each of their minds, half-formed, drowned by the rush of descent.
For a heartbeat, Arthur saw Kuro above him—arms spread, coat flaring like wings, his face unreadable in the dark. Did he betray us? Arthur thought. Was this all a trap?
The lake surged closer, an endless sheet of black glass waiting to break them.
Then something snapped.
A metallic whip-crack split the air.
Arthur's body jerked violently, shoulders yanked upward. A thin, glimmering rope coiled around his chest like a living serpent. The sudden stop burned through his ribs, and for a moment he couldn't breathe.
Below him, Alia dangled, the same rope looped around her waist. Sui hung a few meters lower, clutching the line with one gloved hand, his other gripping the suitcase that now glowed faintly from its seams.
From above, Kuro dangled at the end of the same lifeline—rope anchored somewhere unseen in the mist above the cliff.
They were all suspended in mid-air, swinging slightly over the abyss, rain hammering down in relentless sheets.
Arthur gasped, coughing. "What—what is this?!"
Sui gritted his teeth, lifting the suitcase with effort. "Sinon fiber," he hissed between breaths. "Self-deploying rescue line. Triggered automatically."
Alia's eyes widened. "From your suitcase?"
He nodded once. "I always keep one. Didn't expect it to save him too."
Their gazes rose to Kuro. The rope above him strained, droplets sliding along the silver threads like beads of glass.
---
Hanging Over the Abyss
For a moment, no one spoke. Only the wind screamed through the gorge.
Then Kuro chuckled softly. "That was close," he said, voice carried by the storm. "Good to know you're prepared, Hiroshi."
Arthur's voice was raw. "You pushed us! You could've killed us!"
"Could've," Kuro agreed lightly. "But didn't."
"Are you insane?" Alia shouted. "What was that supposed to prove?"
Kuro's smile was faint, almost sad. "That you still trust gravity more than me."
Sui's patience snapped. "Enough riddles! Pull us up!"
The rope trembled as he activated the suitcase again. Small motors inside whirred, beginning the slow, mechanical retraction. Inch by inch, they rose toward the cliff through the rain.
Arthur's mind raced between anger and relief. He wanted to yell, to demand answers, but every gust of wind reminded him how close death still was. Alia, pale and soaked, clutched the line with white-knuckled hands.
Halfway up, lightning flashed across the clouds, illuminating their faces—the exhaustion, the disbelief, and Kuro's expression: calm, distant, unreadable.
---
Back on the Cliff
When their boots finally scraped stone, Arthur collapsed onto the wet ground, chest heaving.
Alia sat beside him, breathing hard, water streaming down her hair.
Sui was last, retracting the rope and sealing the suitcase with a firm click.
Kuro landed lightly beside them, barely winded. He brushed raindrops from his coat as if he'd only stepped out for a walk.
Arthur glared up at him. "You could've warned us."
"Would you have jumped if I had?" Kuro asked.
"That's not the point!"
"Then what is?" Kuro's tone sharpened. "You think you can choose how to face what's coming? You can't. The world below that cliff is where your choices end."
Alia's eyes narrowed. "You mean the lake."
Kuro's smile returned, faint but genuine. "Lake Vern. Beautiful, isn't it? A mirror deep enough to drown gods. Beneath it lies what we're here for."
Sui straightened, tension returning to his shoulders. "You dragged us out here in the middle of the night—nearly killed us—for a riddle about the lake?"
Kuro met his stare. "Not a riddle. A door."
The rain intensified, hammering the rocks around them. Fog surged upward from the depths like breath from a sleeping giant.
Arthur forced himself to stand. "You said this was the start of something. What now?"
Kuro looked toward the horizon where the storm swallowed the mountain peaks. "Now we descend again—properly, this time. The lake is our entry. Beneath it lies the Fern complex."
Alia frowned. "You mean the headquarters?"
Kuro nodded. "The one they built under the world's largest lake. Hidden for decades. You'll see the canal soon enough."
Arthur blinked. "A canal? Under that?"
Kuro's grin widened. "Exactly under that."
He turned away, beginning to walk along the cliff edge, the rain washing over him like he didn't feel it.
Sui's voice cut through the storm. "You still haven't answered my question, Kuro. What are you going to do from now on?"
Kuro paused, his silhouette blurred by the downpour. For a heartbeat, it seemed he wouldn't reply.
Then he said, almost to the wind, "The same thing I've always done—guide the ones who can't see the ground beneath them."
And before anyone could respond, he leapt again—this time deliberately—vanishing into the mist below the cliff.
Arthur shouted, running to the edge, but there was no splash, no sound—only the endless gray fog and the faint ripple spreading across the surface of Lake Vern.
---
Rain kept sweeping over the cliff like sheets of silver thread.
Kuro's leap still echoed in Arthur's ears, that impossible image of him vanishing into the fog below. Sui, Alia, and Arthur stood at the edge, soaked and silent. The storm refused to sleep.
Then—shouts.
More figures spilled from the shadows of the upper ridge. Five of them. Their silhouettes leapt one by one off the cliff without hesitation, cutting through the rain like falling comets.
"What the—?" Arthur barely finished when the air snapped again—whip!—a line of glimmering fiber unraveling from somewhere below.
Another Sinon rope shot upward, branching like silver veins in the dark. Each falling body jerked to a halt mid-air, hanging and swaying beside them.
Arthur blinked through the mist. "You've got to be kidding me…"
---
There they hung—five people, dripping wet and suspended in the rainstorm:
Sinon, calm as always, controlling the ropes from a reinforced suitcase at his waist.
Billish, laughing even as wind battered his face.
Samuel, flailing and clutching the rope like it was his last breath.
Andreo, still holding a curved sickle in one hand as if the weapon itself were part of him.
And Michael, who looked almost thrilled.
Samuel's voice cracked through the downpour. "W-why is it always falling?! I hate heights!"
Billish's grin widened. "Because it's fun, obviously! You should try opening your eyes next time!"
Michael gave a carefree chuckle. "Feels like bungee jumping to me. Maybe we should sell tickets."
Arthur half-smiled despite the chaos. Same madness, different day.
Within seconds, the rope mechanism whirred again, lowering them carefully to the slick ground near the others. Boots splashed on stone as each one landed. Samuel staggered forward, pale and trembling.
Sui folded his arms. "You five picked a wonderful time for dramatics."
Sinon shrugged, tapping his suitcase to retract the rope. "Better late than never."
---
Now eight of them stood together on the narrow plateau—the mist thick enough to swallow even the resort lights above. The rain softened a little, but cold still crawled through their clothes.
Samuel was the first to speak again, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Alright, genius. Why exactly are we here? Especially this boy—" he jabbed a finger toward Arthur "—the one who's been chewing through my patience and apparently stole my pill power."
Arthur looked at him with the kind of silence that said I'm not giving you satisfaction.
Samuel scowled. "Not even a word, huh? How does it feel to have powers, boy?"
Arthur finally muttered, eyes narrowed, "Feels heavier than you think."
Samuel blinked—didn't expect that answer—and turned away with a grunt.
Before more words could twist the air, Kuro's voice cut through the fog.
---
From the lake below, ripples spread outward—then Kuro stepped out of the mist, water dripping from his coat but his face calm, as if he'd simply walked through rain instead of from beneath a lake.
"Good timing," he said casually. "You all made it."
Billish saluted mockingly. "Barely. The rope ride was the best part."
Samuel crossed his arms. "Speak for yourself."
Kuro's eyes swept across the group. "Listen closely. From this point on, cooperation isn't optional. To get through this mission successfully, you'll need to move as one. If any of you act alone, we'll fail—and worse, we'll be buried under this mountain."
Samuel scoffed. "I refuse to cooperate."
A sharp whisper followed—metal sliding against metal.
Andreo had drawn his sickle, its edge glowing faintly even in the rain. "Then I can solve that problem now. One less liability."
Samuel froze, his bravado draining fast. "Alright! Fine! I'll cooperate, dammit. Just—keep that thing away from my neck."
Andreo smirked, lowering the blade. "See? Progress."
Arthur muttered under his breath, "This is going to be a long mission."
---
Before Kuro could speak again, a new sound echoed—the heavy thud of boots above, followed by the hiss of air displacement.
Another figure had jumped from the cliff.
The wind roared around him as he fell, coat whipping, skull-shaped mask glowing through the rain like a pale ember.
Billish pointed upward, with irritated expression. "And here comes our leader!"
The falling man stopped mid-air—snatched by another Sinon line that caught him effortlessly. He hung for a second, perfectly still, then descended slowly until his boots touched the ground beside Kuro.
Even through the storm, everyone could feel the change in pressure.
56 had arrived.
His skull mask shimmered faintly under the rain, the blue veins of light across it pulsing like a heartbeat. Despite the downpour, his voice came clear—smooth, confident, controlled.
"So these," he said, scanning the group, "are the people we'll be working with?"
Kuro nodded. "Yes. They're the key to entering the facility."
56 turned slightly, gaze landing on Alia. "You're Alia, then. The sister of the one I sparred with before."
Alia met his mask with steady eyes. "So you're the one who fought my brother—non-seriously, apparently."
56 gave a dry chuckle. "If I'd fought seriously, we wouldn't be having this conversation."
Arthur tensed at the remark, but Kuro lifted a hand. "Enough old rivalries. We have work to do."
---
Kuro knelt by the edge of the cliff where rainwater streamed into the black depths. He pulled out a small torch and pointed its narrow beam across the lake. The light cut through the fog, revealing faint ripples where metal met rock—two narrow slits, almost invisible to the naked eye.
"These," he said, "are the unused water canals of the old Fern Headquarters. They were built decades ago for supply transport before the upper sectors were abandoned. Nobody uses them anymore. Which makes them perfect for us."
Arthur frowned. "Those look too small."
"They are," Kuro admitted. "Barely wide enough for a person to squeeze through. But that's why we're using rebreathers and glide ropes."
Billish's grin returned. "So, basically, human torpedoes."
"Exactly," Kuro replied without a hint of humor. "Each canal leads directly to the inner docks of the lower complex. From there, we'll split—teams Alpha and Beta. Alpha breaches the control core. Beta secures the extraction route."
Samuel groaned. "Couldn't we just knock on the front door like normal people?"
Sui answered flatly, "Normal people don't survive Fern."
Kuro turned and tapped the ground beside a large outcropping of stone. A hidden latch clicked, and a section of rock slid aside to reveal a watertight container buried beneath. Inside were compact oxygen tanks, black wetsuits, micro-lights, and rope coils coiled like veins of silver.
"All the gear we need," he said. "Pre-stored months ago. I expected Fern would resurface eventually."
56 crossed his arms. "You always plan that far ahead?"
Kuro's mouth curved faintly. "It's how we've lived this long."
Rain hissed against the metal container as he handed each person their gear. Alia's hands trembled slightly—not from fear, but anticipation. Arthur noticed and gave a small nod; she returned it.
For a moment, the group stood in eerie unity, eight shadows framed by lightning, the lake below glowing faintly under the storm.
---
The rain hadn't stopped—if anything, it had grown angrier.
It slashed against the cliffside like knives of cold glass, turning the plateau into a field of shallow puddles that reflected only lightning.
The team huddled near the edge, the water of Lake Vern roaring below. Above them, the clouds rolled like torn smoke, covering even the moon.
Kuro stood a few paces ahead, coat whipping in the wind, his hair plastered against his face. His voice, when it came, was nearly lost beneath the storm.
"It's time," he said. "Our window's open. If we go now, the storm will mask every sensor Fern has."
Arthur tightened the strap of his oxygen tank. "So this is it."
"Yes," Kuro replied. "And it's to our advantage. Regan No. 2 — Alexander — and Regan No. 8 — Mark—are both stationed inside the headquarters tonight. The heavy rain will drown out sonar interference. If we move fast, we can capture Kaito and get out before they even know we were here."
Sui Hiroshi, already in his diving gear, glanced toward him. "You make it sound easy."
Kuro's expression didn't shift. "Nothing's easy down there. But it's possible."
Samuel adjusted his goggles, his tone sharp. "And how exactly do you plan for us to escape once we've captured him?"
Kuro looked at him as if the answer were obvious. "The same way we enter—through the canal. Fern's inner tunnels still connect to the lake. It's tight, but manageable. If anything goes wrong, the rope system will guide us back."
Samuel snorted. "A perfect plan. Get in, grab the impossible, get out through a hole the size of a drainpipe."
Billish clapped him on the back. "You're just scared of tight spaces now, huh?"
"I'm scared of dying stupidly," Samuel muttered.
Andreo's voice cut in, low and amused. "Then follow the plan and you won't."
----
Under Kuro's watchful eye, they worked fast.
Each of them wore the same black diving suits sealed to the neck, reinforced against pressure and cold. Miniature oxygen cylinders clicked into place along their spines, lights blinking faintly blue. Their helmets—sleek, translucent—fogged briefly as they tested the internal respirators.
Sinon checked the line running through her suitcase unit, tightening the locks. The thin rope gleamed silver in the storm light.
"Everyone connect," she ordered calmly. "If one goes off course, we all follow the line. No exceptions."
Each member clipped the carabiner of their waist harness to the rope, one by one—Sinon at the front, Kuro just behind her, then Arthur, Alia, Samuel, Billish, Andreo, Michael, Sui, and finally 56 bringing up the rear.
By the time the last buckle clicked, it was 1:30 A.M.
Kuro raised his wristwatch. The faint glow of the dial reflected in his eyes. "Phones stay here. No signals in the depths, and we can't risk data trace."
Billish sighed. "No music, no light, no fun."
Sinon ignored him. "Visibility will be near zero anyway. Keep formation. You'll see what I see through the rope tugs—one pull, slow down; two pulls, move forward."
Arthur exhaled, steam curling from his lips. His heart beat loud in his ears. He looked to Alia—her hood up, her face unreadable. Only her fingers fidgeting with the strap betrayed the tension.
---
The rain thickened, drumming so hard that even thunder seemed distant. Fog began to swell over the lake, twisting into long, ghostly trails that reached up the cliff like fingers.
Sui glanced down into the water. "It's boiling," he said softly.
It wasn't literal—but close. Steam rose from the surface in great white clouds, merging with the mist until the entire lake seemed to breathe.
Then he turned to Kuro. "Before we dive, answer me something."
Kuro met his eyes. "Go ahead."
"Is there any danger in the lake itself? Currents, pressure pockets, fauna…?"
Kuro gave a small, almost careless smile. "This lake is completely safe. Fern doesn't need aquatic defenses—why would they, when two Regans are stationed there? Alexander alone could turn the water into a weapon if he wanted to. They rely on them, not traps."
Sui frowned. "So our only real threat is the humans guarding it."
Kuro's tone turned dry. "Humans might not be the right word."
He took a step closer to Alia, placing a hand on her shoulder. "That's why I brought her. If Alexander reacts, she's our counter. Insurance."
Alia's gaze hardened, but she didn't pull away.
56's low voice rumbled from the back. "Enough talking. The rain's thickening—perfect cover."
---
Kuro turned toward the team, the storm swirling around him like smoke. "You all know your orders. Sinon leads us through the outer trench. Stay on her line. No lights unless I signal. If your comms crackle—don't speak, just pull once."
The rope shimmered faintly as Sinon stepped to the cliff edge. The lake below was a dark, living mirror, broken only by the rain.
Without hesitation, Sinon jumped. The rope followed, sliding silently through her gloved hands.
One by one, the rest followed.
Arthur's stomach dropped as he leapt into the mist, cold air slamming against his face before the water swallowed him whole. The shock was instant—icy and silent. His visor filled with shifting shadows and distant light from the surface.
The rope jerked gently in his grasp—a signal from Sinon. Forward.
He kicked once, twice, feeling the current wrap around him. Above, only faint blurs of the others' lights shimmered through the murk. Below, the darkness stretched into endless blue-gray.
The world was muffled—the sound of his own breath the only rhythm.
---
From the surface, only bubbles rose—no sign of the ten shadows sliding into the deep.
The fog closed again over Lake Vern, thicker than before, until even the mountains vanished behind a veil of smoke.
Kuro's mind stayed sharp as he swam, counting every meter in silence. The rope in his hand pulsed faintly with Sinon's guidance—a living thread through chaos.
Arthur tried not to think about the pressure pressing on his ribs, or the growing darkness ahead. Every now and then, a flash of silver darted past—fish fleeing from their path—or maybe something else.
He caught Alia's reflection once in the dim light: calm, focused, her hair floating like ink in water.
Somewhere ahead, Sinon raised her hand, signaling halt. Through the veil, a faint glow appeared—metal glinting beneath algae and rock.
The canal's entrance.
A jagged mouth just wide enough for a person to squeeze through, invisible to any eye that didn't know where to look.
Kuro's voice murmured through the comms, faint but steady: "There. That's our door. Stay close."
---
Back on the cliff, the storm reached its peak. Lightning carved white scars across the sky, and thunder answered like the growl of a beast.
The fog thickened until even the surface of the lake vanished completely—only the faint hiss of rain marked where water ended and air began.
For anyone watching from afar, the lake would have looked empty.
No ripples. No sound. No trace.
Only the mist rising like breath from something ancient and waiting.
---
Deep below, ten faint silhouettes drifted toward the narrow canal, tethered together by a single silver line.
And as they vanished into the dark tunnel leading under Lake Vern, Kuro's voice whispered one final command through the comms:
"Stay silent. From this point on, the lake listens."
The rope twitched once—Sinon's confirmation—and then they were gone, swallowed by the abyss beneath the rain.