Timestamp: Cycle 4, Month 7 — Rain Season
Location: Abyssal Rift Zone Delta-03
The trench lay in eerie quiet, the only sound the soft hum of M.A.N.A. coiling through the fractured rock. Rain streaked the high ceiling of the collapsed facility, flickering against the dim glow of residual Resonant energy. Even here, in the aftermath of the Abyss Bloom, the trench seemed alive — quivering, breathing, as if the Rift itself were studying them. Shadows pooled in jagged crevices, shifting unnaturally under the pale luminescence of Selene's resonance beacons.
Allen adjusted his helm, fingers brushing against Helion Vanguard's reinforced controls. The Frame vibrated slightly under his touch, responding to the lingering pulse of the Rift. He could feel it — a low, almost imperceptible hum, like the heartbeat of a creature just beneath consciousness. He hated it, hated the way it unsettled him, yet it drove him forward. Hesitation wasn't an option here.
A distant tremor rattled the trench floor. Allen's HUD flickered with micro-fractures in the surrounding rock. Mateo's voice cut through the comms, calm but tense: "Vanguard, status check. Watch the energy spikes — residual Bloom activity is unpredictable."
"Scanning," Allen muttered, though he already knew what the sensors would say. The Abyss was still awake. Small fissures of blackened energy snaked across the walls, glowing faintly violet, pulsing with uneven resonance. Objects shifted slightly, defying gravity, suspended in a dangerous ballet of temporal distortion.
Then, a pulse exploded near the eastern fragment of the facility. A jagged wave of Abyss energy surged outward, throwing a cascade of debris into the air. Metal beams, shattered concrete, and crystalline fragments spun wildly, each piece sharp enough to pierce even reinforced armor.
"Move! Get clear!" Mateo barked, urgency threading through his usually measured tone.
Allen's instincts took over before strategy could even form. Helion Vanguard's thrusters flared, propelling him forward through the storm of debris. His armor braced against impact after impact, each clang of metal reverberating through the reinforced cockpit like a hammer on an anvil. Sparks erupted from a damaged control panel; he gritted his teeth against the taste of ozone and scorched metal.
Ahead, Kiyo Tanaka's RX-00 Shadow had faltered mid-teleport. A glitch in the resonance field left the trainee suspended, limbs splayed and vulnerable above a pit of jagged rock. Allen's sensors screamed warnings, but his resolve was absolute. One misstep, and the cadet would be crushed.
He swung Helion Vanguard's massive arm, knocking away a falling beam before it could strike. Another impact cracked the trench wall beside him, dust and shards raining down. Each movement was calculated, yet instinctive, a dance of brute force and timing. Allen felt the weight of responsibility in every swing — every collision a measure of lives balanced against the unforgiving Abyss.
Dean's Astra Nova descended beside him, wings slicing through the misty air. "Allen, you can't take them all alone!" Dean shouted, pilot voice carrying both reprimand and relief. He fired a series of precision blasts, creating a temporary barrier that deflected smaller debris, buying Allen milliseconds of safety.
"Don't worry about me!" Allen shouted back, his voice strained over the comms. His Frame groaned under the continued strain. Amber light traced the lines of Helion Vanguard's armor, illuminating dents, scorched panels, and the faint glow of energy shields under maximum load.
Jasmine's Tempest Wing looped around the fissure, scanning for additional tremors. Her voice cut through, sharp and quick: "There's more unstable resonance below! They're trapped on a secondary platform. You'll have to reach them fast!"
Allen's sensors pinpointed the location: another wave of debris and Abyss energy was already converging. He accelerated, thrusters burning, moving like a colossus in defiance of the storm. He felt every vibration of the Rift, every tremor beneath his feet, every pulse against his Frame's core. Inwardly, he counted — sway, impact, lift — a rhythm that kept him alive.
Then, a massive shard tore through the air like a spear. Allen caught it just in time, Helion Vanguard's gauntlet absorbing the impact. Sparks flew, a crackling trail marking the path of destruction narrowly avoided. He pivoted, using the momentum to shield Kiyo mid-fall, guiding the smaller Frame toward Selene's stabilization anchors.
Selene's RX-Titan Arclight flared to life, establishing a temporary resonance field. The field hummed, a lattice of protective energy, shimmering in pale amber against the violet glow of residual Rift energy. Kiyo's Shadow Frame landed safely inside, thrusters flickering, trembling under the sudden stabilization.
Allen exhaled through the comms. "Status?"
"Alive… thanks to you," Kiyo whispered, voice trembling, a mixture of relief and awe.
The trench shuddered again. The Abyss Bloom's pulse lingered, sending micro-wave aftershocks that warped gravity and distorted space. Allen's HUD flashed warnings: stress levels critical, shields nearing maximum load. He clenched his jaw, refusing to let the panic settle in. The enemy here wasn't flesh or mind — it was raw resonance, alien and unknowable.
Dean and Jasmine maintained perimeter, their Frames slicing through smaller fractures with precision strikes. Mateo hovered above, Aegis Halo glowing like a calm lighthouse against the storm, observing, coordinating, and calculating the next moves. Every pilot worked in a symphony of movement, but it was Allen's charge that had tipped the scales for the trapped cadet.
The adrenaline faded slightly as Allen scanned the trench. Several structural supports were compromised. Cracks stretched across the walls like veins, and the floor groaned beneath residual tremors. Yet, in the chaos, Allen's mind lingered on one thought: they had survived — for now.
"Helion, maintain position," Mateo instructed, tone even. "We need to assess the integrity of the surrounding structures before the next wave."
Allen nodded, though the expression was lost beneath his helmet. He braced Helion Vanguard, sensors alert for the next pulse. His muscles ached, every motion straining, yet he felt a grim satisfaction. The cadets were safe, the trench temporarily stabilized. And for the first time in hours, he allowed himself a fleeting glance at the aftermath — a chaotic sculpture of twisted metal, glowing energy, and rain-streaked shadows.
"Allen," Jasmine said softly over comms, voice laced with admiration, "you… you didn't hesitate. Not once."
Allen shrugged inside his armor, a small, private smile tugging at his lips. "Someone had to," he replied simply. His words were less for praise than for the acknowledgment of survival — that amid the chaos, the duty was fulfilled.
For a heartbeat, the trench seemed to calm. The rain pattered against the fractured ceiling, carrying away dust, energy sparks, and the residue of the Bloom. The Frames' glowing cores reflected against the slick surfaces, dancing in patterns that were both mesmerizing and unsettling.
Yet, deep beneath the surface, a subtle resonance continued to pulse, slow and deliberate. The Abyss Bloom had left a mark. It had tested them, and though Allen's charge had bought time, it had not ended the threat. Somewhere below, the Rift whispered in vibrations too faint for human ears, a quiet but persistent reminder that its presence endured.
Allen's amber-lit eyes scanned the trench, lingering on the shadows curling around broken structures. He could feel it: the pulse, the memory of the Bloom, the lingering chaos. It wasn't done. It would never truly be done. But for now… the team had survived.
Mateo's voice cut through again, clipped and precise. "Allen, I'm logging this. Official commendation pending. You may have acted recklessly, but you saved lives today."
Allen's grin was fleeting, but genuine. "I don't do it for the medal." He paused, the comms silent save for the gentle hum of residual M.A.N.A. "I do it because they're all I've got."
The team moved cautiously through the trench, the Frames' lights tracing arcs of safety across jagged terrain. Every movement carried weight; every pulse of energy reminded them of the Rift's lingering will. Yet in that weight, in that hum of life and resonance, Allen's charge had left an indelible mark — proof that courage, even when reckless, could carve a path through the Abyss.
And somewhere below, the Bloom waited, patient, its presence a constant shadow on the edges of their awareness.