[22:16H]
As the evening fell deeper in Saga, the battle between the field-men and the Seele's raged on.
With the breezy fall of a Kolassal class Seele—the biggest class—Saga fell back into chaos as a new wave of Seele's came to flood the field from the seemingly boiling Ariake Sea.
In the silence of the SPINELs quarters, Miss Gigi stood watching. Commanding. She closed her eyes as she inhaled her cigarette, blowing it out slowly with the smoke rising from her red lips. She opened her pale green eyes and tapped her ears.
"All Squads! Alpha! Bravo! Charlie! Delta! Echo!"
The whole battleground beeped as her voice reached everyone's comms.
"Push forward! Defend the field! Cover for Squad Sierra's retreat! Time to enter the meat grinder!"
The entire field roared; the Field-Men were ready to throw their lives into a certain death.
They pushed through as streaks of blue, green, and yellow slashed through the skies, their bullets flying over the same mindless, vicious monsters.
"You've heard the Great Lady! Squad Alpha! Push forwards!"
"Forwards!"
"Forwards!"
They all roared as they rushed through the damp field. On the other side, the Seele replied, their screeches echoing on the dark field. Squad Alpha's captain chuckled.
"Heh! They're as motivated as we are!"
In that moment of pride and power, time slowed down for the captain.
It was a streak of green—a color that made them all feel helpless. It flashed through their eyes. Fast. Too fast.
They froze in their places. Mud and dirt came flying through the waning moon along with blood.
The captain tumbled into the field, and in that instant, he lost his right arm.
"G-gaaAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
BROOOOOOOM!
Amidst the chaos, Ryujin rode his bike. He kicked it and it sprawled to life, its loud combustible engine replacing the streaking gunfire of the field.
BROOM! BROOM!
Ryujin revved it a couple of times.
"Woah-Hoh! It's a combustible!"
Itoshi hushed, excited.
Ryujin looked back as he smirked.
"Tsk, thought you were too young to know about these things."
Itoshi jumped onto Ryujin's back with excitement.
"Nah! These things are fire!"
Ryujin chuckled as he put it into gear. He pulled the throttle with power and the bike went into a wheelie, with Itoshi on the back almost falling from his seat.
"WAOHH!! AHAHAHA!"
They cut through the battlefield, the beam of red from the bike's rear glowing through the night.
"Don't let go, kid!"
Ryujin shouted over the roar, slamming the front tire back into the mud with a heavy splash.
"As if!"
Itoshi gripped Ryujin's shoulder with one hand while the other ignited.
He flinched.
"Ryujin! There's a pack of 'em at two o'clock!"
Ryujin tilted the bike hard, the metal frame groaning as they drifted through the sludge.
As the bike slid sideways, Itoshi leaned out, a violent whip of blue flame erupting from his palm.
He scorched a line through three Seele's that were lunging from the shadows, their bodies vaporizing before they could touch the tires.
"Too slow!"
Ryujin grunted, pulling a sharp U-turn that kicked a massive plume of dirt into the remaining monsters' faces. He drew his blade with his left hand, slicing through a Seele's throat as they sped past.
"Watch the left!"
Itoshi yelled, his hand glowing brighter. He sent a concentrated burst of blue fire into the ground, the explosion of heat snapping the bike upright and launching them forward with a sudden surge of momentum.
"Nice assist!"
Ryujin barked, twisting the throttle to the stop.
"Only from the best!"
Itoshi boasted, his scarecrow mask slipping slightly as the bike bounced over the uneven terrain.
Ryujin shook his head, his gaze suddenly snapping toward the darkness trailing them.
"Tsk. More coming, Itoshi."
Itoshi leaned forward, squinting through the eye slits of his mask.
"Hoh? You think so?"
"Of course, idiot,"
Ryujin bluntly confirmed.
Itoshi laughed, the vibration of the bike nearly tossing him from his seat once again.
"Wotototo!"
"I'll slow the vehicle down... We'll delay them as we wait for the Field-men to capture this point,"
Ryujin commanded, his voice hardening as the tactical reality set in.
"Copy that!"
Ryujin reached up and tapped his ear.
"Miss! Situation!"
In an instant, his comms beeped.
"You're about 2 kilometers away from the headquarters... Keep retreating. There are field-men present within your 500 meters..."
Ryujin gave a single, firm nod before asking his next question.
"Copy that! What are the sludges behind us?"
"Wind type, Flame type. Moving fast, following your vehicle,"
Miss Gigi replied, the sound of her exhaling smoke almost audible over the line.
"Think you can handle them?"
Ryujin closed his eyes for a brief second, a calm confidence settling over him.
"Hmmp—with ease!"
He wrenched the handlebars and pulled the throttle, forcing the bike into a violent 180-degree skid.
The heavy machine groaned as it swung around, facing the dark field they had just traversed.
He held it there, revving the engine until the mechanical roar challenged the approaching screeches.
Itoshi leaned forward once again, his mask tilting.
"Hmm?.. Why did we stop?"
Ryujin looked back at Itoshi, then fixed his eyes on the horizon where the fast-moving silhouettes were beginning to break through the gloom.
"You think you can get this vehicle flying a few feet up?"
Under his mask, Itoshi blinked. Then, a wide, reckless smile spread across his face.
[THE ROOM THAT OBSERVES ALL]
In the darkness of The Room That Observes All, four of the seven seats were occupied. Only four of the seven Skulls were present in their respectable thrones, their figures cast in the cold, flickering light of the monitors.
They watched over a blue screen. Silent. Judging.
Battle. All of it was battles happening all across the globe. From Bharat and The Dynasty to South Africa and the current project: The Collaborative Mainland Japan Cleansing.
"If Hachi's squad proves to be successful in the Kyushu Region... Their next target would be Chugoku,"
A silhouette hushed, watching over the data streaming from the battle in Saga.
"Heh~ We really gonna throw them in with other squads?"
Another silhouette asked, his tone teasing.
"Squad 376 is also another 'crazy' bunch to say the least. Think they'll work together with 663?"
Another Skull joined in.
The first Skull answered.
"Perhaps."
He paused, the screen flickering as he commanded a change in the feed.
"Now. Regarding Ryo..."
The screen changed focus, showing the raging battle down in South Africa.
"Guess the presence of a strong Neck really motivated our men,"
Another silhouette joined in.
"We've managed to reclaim more land with his arrival; they're now pushed back from the Southern Wall by 3 kilometers."
The first Skull spoke, his voice deep and resonant.
"Don't worry. Even if they breach the wall... Chronos II is still 2,000 kilometers away."
Then, the fourth and final Skull spoke.
"Heh~ I guess the field-men are getting quite used to his crimson flame."
He sat on the far right, turning to his fellow Skulls on his left.
"Seems like someone is doing the work for your Star-boy."
The Skull that sat to his left scoffed.
"Pfft... That's precisely the reason why I'm excited."
He paused, a lean shadow shifting against his throne.
"This is a growing rivalry I see... I'd like to see these two flames stretch themselves thin for their pride."
He turned to his right.
"Don't you think that's interesting? In a world where flame is not the norm... two 'guardians' rise in the same time frame to change the world."
The first silhouette joined in, his voice cold and final.
"If they ever clash... Itoshi has zero chance of winning."
That one sentence ended the entire conversation. With Itoshi's current state, he had nothing to prove against the Crimson Flame Hero—Ryo-Ryo Mukori.
"Well?"
Ryujin asked, the vibration of the bike rattling through his boots.
"You done daydreaming back there? We've got Wind and Flame types closing the gap."
Itoshi snapped back to the present, his hands starting to glow with a heat that made the air around the bike shimmer.
"Yeah, yeah! Just making sure I don't burn the tires off this relic. You want air? I can't give you air... Only flare!"
Ryujin smirked, looking back to Itoshi.
"That's good enough."
He revved the bike once more, and they launched back. They breezed through the evening, winds whispering through their ears as Itoshi's mask barely stayed on his face.
"We're getting closer! Prepare the flare!"
Ryujin commanded.
"Got it, boss!"
Itoshi curled himself from the back of the bike, fighting the force of the wind and speed as he pointed his palms on the side of the front wheel.
Two sparks. Two blue sparks. His palms sparked, releasing a blue flame that flung the front and the back of the vehicle up.
Like an invisible ramp, his flare gave the wheels some air. Time slowed down. The timing was perfect. Absolutely flawless.
Ryujin revved the free wheel as they floated in the air. The fast-spinning rear wheel struck a Seele's head—a Wind type.
With Itoshi's heat still fresh on the rubber, the monster's skull instantly evaporated upon contact.
They landed hard on the rough path, the bike's shocks barely surviving the impact. It skidded to a halt, the beam from the headlight cutting through the dark to reveal the forms of the beasts standing before them.
One fading Wind type, three remaining Wind types, and five Flame types... all ranging from two to four meters in height.
VROOOM VROOOOM!
SPARK! SPARK!
Her eyes reflected blue. In a dark, white-painted room, she sat there. Silent. Observing. She sat on her bed, her green eyes reflecting blue and lifelessness itself as she watched the flickering screen.
"Itoshi-nii..."
She moaned, her voice barely a whisper in the quiet room.
Her caretaker sat beside her, watching over the frail, pink-haired child.
"Jayu-chan... you should rest now. It's getting late,"
Nijina recommended, her voice soft and grounding.
Jayu slowly turned to her, the blue light of the screen fading from her pupils as she gave a small nod.
"Mhm..."
Nijina smiled, fumbling for the remote control.
Jayu settled into her bed, wrapping herself tightly in the white blanket as she hugged Kara's stuffed toy, her small frame illuminated by the waning moon's light barely piercing through the window.
The TV was shut off, plunging the room into a deep, moonlit grey. Nijina placed the remote on the table right next to Jayu's head.
She watched the child, who was already drifting toward sleep, and leaned in close. She slowly raised Jayu's bangs, revealing her forehead, and pressed a gentle kiss there.
"Goodnight... Jayu-chan,"
Nijina whispered with a smile.
Nijina walked toward the door, her heels barely making a noise against the floor.
Just as she opened the door, the small voice from the bed muttered one last thing.
"Goodnight... Kara-nee..."
The silence within the hangar was a heavy, physical thing, standing in sharp defiance of the mechanical groans of the facility around them.
Kara hugged her knees, burying her face so deeply against them that the world outside ceased to exist.
She was a silent island in the middle of that vast, echoing hangar. Every time she closed her eyes, she didn't see the sterile walls; she saw the reflection of her own trauma staring back from the eyes of those she couldn't protect.
The small, rhythmic Tremble in her shoulders was the only sign that she was still breathing.
Tomori reached out, her hand hovering inches above Kara's shoulder, but she froze. The air around Kara felt fragile, like a thin sheet of glass that would shatter if touched.
Tomori pulled her hand back, curling her own fingers into a fist, unable to find the words to bridge the gap.
Kirashi leaned against a nearby support pillar, his usual grace replaced by a heavy, slumped posture.
He watched Kara with a hollow expression, the silence of the hangar pressing in on him. He knew that look—the look of someone who had reached their limit but was still expected to be the anchor.
Aldrin remained on his crate, the wood creaking slightly as he shifted. He looked at the hangar doors, then back at the girl on the floor. He wanted to say something—to tell her that Ryujin and Itoshi were coming back, that the field-men were holding—but the words felt like lead in his throat.
The industrial hum of the airport continued, indifferent and mechanical, a constant drone that made their isolation feel absolute.
~~~To be Continued~~~