Roxanne left Shaska’s room, heading to the kitchen with a mind still weighed down by everything that had happened. To her surprise, Lulupo was already there, busy at the stove. His hair, twisting with fluid grace, stirred multiple pots and pans all at once. She winced, remembering what she had said to him in the heat of her grief after Andy’s death.


    “H-Hi, Charles…”


    Lulupo glanced over his shoulder, his expression hard, though his hair and his hands never stopped their steady work. “Morning, Roxanne,” he said coolly. “I trust my ‘degenerate queer’ ways won’t offend you today?”


    Roxanne’s hand trembled as she pulled out a cigarette. Lighting it up with a shaky breath, she replied, “I… I’m sorry, Charles. I didn’t mean it.”


    Lulupo’s expression didn’t soften. “You know, Roxanne, I’ve heard worse all my life. But I thought we were beyond that. Friends, even. But right now I don’t feel comfortable being on a first name basis with you.”


    “We haven’t really talked much since Salt Town…” she admitted.


    “Still, there’s no excuse to talk like that to someone you work with.”


    Roxanne hesitated before replying, the teachings of Serenicus weighing on her conscience. “It’s just… the teachings of the Father Above say your way of life is sinful. And no matter how much I might like you, I can’t pretend that doesn’t matter.”


    Lulupo sighed, shaking his head, though he didn’t miss a beat with his cooking. “Those old beliefs are dying out, darling. After the Great War, the world changed. People like me aren’t going away. We’ll be everywhere in a hundred years. You just have to accept it.”


    Roxanne blew out another puff of smoke, feeling the tension rise but unwilling to push it further. She changed the subject. “I didn’t know you could cook.”


    Lulupo raised a delicate eyebrow. “You’d be surprised what you pick up in my line of work. Besides, restaurants are expensive when you’re between jobs.”


    She watched his hair continue to manipulate the pans. “And… no hairnet?”


    His unimpressed expression deepened. “Roxanne, I control every strand of my hair with my potentia. You won’t get hair in your food.”


    “Oh!” Roxanne’s eyes lit up as she remembered Shaska’s instructions. “Speaking of potentia… Shaska sent me to talk to you… She said you could teach me how to awaken a potentia. She’s too rusty, and Schwarz is… well, still half-dead.” Her tone softened. “I want to fight. I need to.”


    Lulupo turned fully to face her, surprised. “You want to awaken a potentia?”


    Roxanne nodded firmly. “I know the Holy Order says vengeance belongs to the Father Above, but… I don’t see how the feds are going to bring justice to Minus World without someone capable of taking them down first. And I want to be the one to bring that creepy princess in.” She paused for a second, a flicker of pain crossing her face as she remembered the helplessness of those moments, seeing Andy die and then his body in the morgue. “It’s… It’s not exactly a woman’s place to save people, but… I feel it’s something I have to do if the Global Federation can’t.”


    Lulupo’s lips curled into a slight smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Having a potentia isn’t a cure-all, Roxanne. It comes with a cost. But… if you’re serious, I can help. Even if your beliefs are a bit old-fashioned.”


    Roxanne rolled her eyes, taking another drag from her cigarette, but she couldn’t help but feel a weight lifting off her shoulders. “Yeah, well… I’ll worry about that later.”


    Lulupo glanced at the cigarette. “When did you pick up smoking, anyway?”


    “I carry a pack for when things get rough. But I figure I’ll be smoking for a while, as long as that creepy princess is still out there.”


    He nodded. “Fair enough. Breakfast will be ready soon. Why don’t you go wake the others?”


    Roxanne gave him a small, but sincere nod. “Thanks, Cha–Lulupo.”


    She turned and left, feeling both lighter and heavier at the same time.


    <hr>


    Worldwide Smoke gathered around their usual table in the promenade as Lulupo served trays of breakfast staples. Schwarz, recently awake from his blood loss-induced stupor, sat at the table, his torso heavily bandaged. Despite the delicious looking food, there was a palpable sense of dread among the crew, much like the aftermath of the Mazurka City massacre. But this time, two of their members were gone.


    “So… we lost Andy and the prince yesterday,” Schwarz said, deadpan as he chewed a piece of bacon.


    “That’s about the size of it, darling,” Lulupo replied, though his usual flamboyance was dampened. “And to top it off, we encountered someone even Miss Shaska didn’t dare fight.”


    “And we’re gonna catch him!” Shaska interrupted, slamming two wanted posters on the table. The crew collectively blinked at the massive bounties, dumbfounded.


    “A hundred twenty five million losas for the king and that creepy princess!” Shaska crowed, puffing on her cigar. “Still chump change compared to my fortune, but if we bring them in, it’ll send a message: Worldwide Smoke isn’t to be trifled with!”


    Ren shook her head, unimpressed. “Sendin’ a message is all well ‘n’ good, but bringin’ them in ain’t gonna clear us. We’re still outlaws. Jus’ makes us look like one o’th’Three Kings gangs.”


    Shaska rolled her eyes. “It’ll help, mechanic girl. It won’t clear us, but it’ll help.”


    Roxanne, irritated by Shaska’s continued refusal to use names, stabbed at her pancakes without saying anything.


    Carne chimed in. “What’s the plan now?”


    Shaska leaned forward, fingers steepled, blowing smoke across the table. “Here’s the breakdown. First and foremost, we’re taking down the king guy. That’s priority number one. Second, we put the hurt on the Smoky Mart suits back in Piscomare. Third, we hunt down that crooked fed who torched Mazurka City and force her to confess. She’ll clear Worldwide Smoke’s name.”


    Her eyes scanned the crew. “Anyone else have something to add?”


    Schwarz leaned back, arms crossed. “I’ve still got to kill the bastard who slaughtered my family.”


    “That fed who torched my town… I want her put down fer good. I want more than just a confession,” Ren added darkly. “Ev’ry night… I still imagine what Kowalski must’ve been goin’ through in his final moments…”


    “I stand by you, Miss Shaska,” Zinnia said with quiet determination. “Though when this is done, I would like to return to Orinoca.”


    “I’m with you as long as you keep the losas flowing, darling,” Lulupo chimed in. “And once this is over, I’ll be joining Zinnia in Orinoca.”


    Zinnia and Roxanne both shot Lulupo a sideways glance, but said nothing. Roxanne took a long drag of her cigarette before speaking. “You know where I stand. That creepy princess is going to pay for what she did to Andy.”


    “And me…” Carne hesitated, slumping slightly in his chair. “I don’t really have any cool goals… I-I’m just here, I guess.”


    “You’re here to patch us up when we need it, kid,” Shaska said, dismissive but not unkind. “That’s why you’re on the payroll.”


    She blew another cloud of smoke. “Alright, listen up. We’re heading to Rioja. There, we’ll secure a submarine to get down to the Piscomare Kingdom. As great as the Humo Robinson is, it’s not built for ocean depths. We also need intel on that psycho fed, and the Riojan underworld? They know everything: state secrets, locations, you name it. We’ll find out where the king’s holed up.”


    “The Riojan underworld? Shaska, aren’t you the world’s most famous bounty hunter…?” Carne protested.


    “And?”


    Carne’s expression hardened at Shaska’s apparent obliviousness. Sensing this, Shaska reached into her blazer and pulled out a huge stack of cash. “Money talks, doctor kid.”


    <hr>


    Franco woke with a start in a cold, sterile room at Federal Institute of Intelligence Gathering headquarters in Oppidapolis. The space was cramped, dimly lit by a single flickering light bulb overhead. The steady beeping of a heart monitor was the only sound in the room. His body felt heavier, alien. He bolted upright, immediately feeling for his right arm. It was there, but different. His heart dropped as he held up a mechanical prosthetic where his flesh and blood once were.


    Franco’s breath hitched as he threw off the covers, his eyes widening in disbelief. His legs were gone, replaced by cold, gleaming metal. He darted his head around and saw a familiar face sitting beside his bed: Agent Johnson.


    “Johnson… what happened?” he muttered, his voice hoarse.


    From beside the bed, Johnson looked up from his book. His face was somber, and unlike his usual crisp federal agent suit, he was dressed down in a plain vest and beige pants.


    “Santiago! You’re awake,” Johnson said, though his tone carried no joy.


    Franco blinked, his heart pounding in his chest. “First name basis, huh...? Reuel… where are we? What the heck happened to me? And… why are you in civilian clothes?”


    Johnson sighed heavily, closing his book. “We’re in a secret facility within FIIG HQ. That fight in Panipuri… you lost your arm and both legs, courtesy of the world’s new public enemy number one. The government’s decided to use you as a test subject for some sort of mechanical soldier program, prepping for another Great War. Seems likely with Minus World out there.”


    Franco’s mind raced, struggling to keep up. “Test subject…? Mechanical soldier? But why?”


    “Because that’s what they’ve decided, Santiago. I’m not high enough rank to know the full details, but what I do know… they’ve turned you into a prototype. Whether you like it or not.”


    Franco’s breath caught in his throat, eyes fixating on his mechanical limbs. “And what about you, Reuel? Why are you dressed like that? What happened to your rank?”


    Johnson''s gaze darkened, and he stood up slowly. “I might be done for. We were sent to capture Shaska... and we failed. Then, we disobeyed direct orders by engaging von Ragnar. And when that guy took out an entire squad with just a glance, I grabbed you and ran. Now I’m facing possible expulsion or worse for disobeying orders and cowardice.”


    Franco stared at him. “But you did what you thought was right! You saved my life!”


    “Doesn’t matter. The brass doesn’t care about ‘doing the right thing.’ They care about results,” Johnson said flatly. “And the result is, I’m walking a fine line. Hell, I’m lucky they even let me stay here to watch over you.”


    Franco looked down at his mechanical arm, slowly clenching and unclenching the metal fist. He was silent for a moment, then he spoke, voice softer. “I… I can’t believe they’d do this. Turn me into… this.”


    Johnson shook his head. “Look at yourself, Santiago. You’re living proof they’ll do whatever they damn well please.”


    Franco paused for a moment, thinking on it. “If this is what my country requires of me, then I’ll do it. I’ll serve justice with these new limbs and continue my mission.”


    Johnson sighed, his face grim. “Suit yourself. Just wanted to say goodbye, in case this is the last time we see each other. I’m leaving soon. Could be walking into a firing squad for all I know.”


    Franco extended his mechanical right hand toward Johnson. “It’s been an honor, Reuel. May the Father Above bless you for what you’ve done.”


    Johnson grasped Franco’s metal hand, squeezing it firmly. “Take care, Santiago.”


    As Johnson turned to leave, Franco called out after him, voice tinged with something softer. “Thank you… for staying by my side.”


    Johnson hesitated for a moment, then gave a final nod before disappearing through the door.


    Franco sat back, staring at his new mechanical limbs. He flexed his metal fingers, feeling the strangeness of it all. Slowly, he extended his right arm, and to his shock, a cannon emerged from his palm. With a deafening blast, it fired a bomb that blew a hole straight through the wall.


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    Franco blinked, wide-eyed. “That’s… gonna take some getting used to.”


    He leaned down, clasping his hands in prayer, mechanical fingers intertwined with flesh. “Saint Linus, patron of medicine, intercede for me. Help my body accept these foreign limbs… and guide me to use them in service of justice. In Serenicus’ name, I pray.”


    <hr>


    Roxanne and Lulupo stood in the Humo Robinson’s gym, a cavernous space packed with all manner of training equipment. Massive weights, ranging from five-pound dumbbells to multi-ton barbells, gleamed under the cold lights. Roxanne shifted uncomfortably in her loose-fitting workout blouse and shorts, casting a wary glance at Lulupo, who stretched casually.


    “Alright,” Lulupo said. “Let’s start with what you know about Aether manipulation.”


    Roxanne cleared her throat. “Well, based on what Shaska told me, you pull Aether from the air into your body by breathing a certain way.”


    “Correct!” Lulupo exclaimed, flashing a grin. “Now, let me show you what that mastery looks like.” With a dramatic flourish, he strolled over to the largest barbell in the room, an intimidating five-ton weight. Roxanne’s eyes widened as Lulupo inhaled rhythmically, his chest rising and falling with precision. Then, with an almost nonchalant motion, he hoisted the colossal weight above his head.


    Roxanne’s jaw dropped. “Holy… WOW! That’s incredible!”


    Lulupo gently set the barbell back down, careful not to disrupt the flying Robinson’s stability. “Impressive, yes, but it’s just a glimpse of what an Aether-enhanced body can do.” He sauntered back toward her. “But awakening a potentia? That’s a different beast. Even after enduring the mental anguish required, the process remains unpredictable.”


    Roxanne frowned, sensing an ominous undertone in his words. “What do you mean?”


    Lulupo circled behind her, his eyes scanning the back of her head as if he could see something invisible. “There is... another way,” he said, his tone quieter now. “A technique I learned in my travels. ‘Forced awakening, it’s called.’”


    “Forced awakening?”


    Lulupo nodded. “If I strike the right Aether node in your skull, I can trigger your potentia early. But it’s risky. Miss, and I could kill you.”


    Roxanne’s heart skipped a beat. The words hung in the air, weighty with consequence. She closed her eyes, thinking of Andy, of the life they had dreamed of and the future she had lost. The ache in her chest felt like a void, and in that moment, she decided.


    “Do it,” she said. “I don’t care about the risk. Without Andy, I already feel like I’m dead. Give me my potentia. I want to be strong enough to make that creepy princess pay.”


    Lulupo paused, surprised by her resolve. “Are you sure? This isn’t some half-baked decision, Roxanne. You might not survive this.”


    “I’m sure. Just do it,” she said, her body stiff with determination.


    Lulupo sighed, gathering Aether into his index finger. “Alright… but stand absolutely still. One wrong move, and…” Roxanne stood rigid, her breath shallow as he placed one hand on her scalp, the other pulling back to strike.


    With precision and force, Lulupo’s finger jabbed the back of Roxanne’s skull. Pain exploded in her head as she flew forward, crashing into the gym wall with a sickening thud.


    “Roxanne!” Lulupo shouted, rushing to her side. “Are you alright?!”


    Roxanne groaned, pulling herself up. Her vision swam, but her mind felt… strange. “I’m fine… I think…”


    Suddenly, a voice echoed in her head, speaking words that weren’t her own. “Surgit… Omnis Flectere…”


    Her eyes widened. “Omnis Flectere…? That’s… the liturgical language of the Holy Order of Serenicus!”


    She rubbed the back of her head, the words bouncing around in her mind. Turning to Lulupo, she asked, “Hey… when you awakened your potentia, did you hear a voice? Not your own, but something… else?”


    Lulupo raised an eyebrow. “It happens to every potentia user, yes. Scholars call it the ‘awakening hallucination.’ Nothing to be concerned about.”


    Roxanne’s heart raced. “No, this wasn’t just a hallucination! It was in the Holy Order’s liturgical language! That has to mean something!”


    Lulupo’s expression flattened. “Roxanne, it’s simply a quirk of psychology. Everyone hears something different, but it doesn’t mean anything.”


    “A quirk?!” Roxanne snapped, feeling her frustration rise. “How can you dismiss it like that? If everyone experiences it, it must mean something more, maybe definitive proof of the Father Above’s existence!”


    Lulupo sighed, running a hand over his scalp. “Roxanne, you’ve got to let go of these old beliefs. Science explains the phenomenon. Nothing divine. It’s just a mental reaction to Aether flowing through your body.”


    Roxanne’s fists clenched. The raw frustration in her chest felt overwhelming, but she held her tongue. “I… Look, what’s most important here is me learning how to fight. Please, teach me how to use my power and fight properly.”


    Lulupo nodded thoughtfully. “Well, Roxanne, that’s what I’m here for. Now, what exactly did the voice in your head say your potentia was called?”


    Roxanne furrowed her brow, thinking back to the moment. “It said ‘Omnis Flectere.’ I’m not sure what that means, though. ‘Omnis’ means ‘all’... but ‘flectere’ eludes me.”


    “Hm.” Lulupo’s eyes sparkled with intrigue. “Interesting. You’ll figure it out soon enough, I’m sure.”


    He scanned the room, grabbing a nearby five-pound dumbbell, and held it out toward her. “Let’s start small. Do you remember the breathing technique I showed you for harnessing Aether?”


    “I think so,” Roxanne replied, still a little uncertain.


    “Good. Focus on that while you curl this,” he said, offering the weight.


    Lulupo held the dumbbell out by the sides, but as Roxanne began her rhythmic breathing and reached for the handle, something strange happened: the dumbbell warped and bent as if made of soft clay, curving into a perfect arc.


    “Oh my!” Lulupo exclaimed, eyes widening.


    Roxanne stared, bewildered. “It... bent?” she said, tilting her head. “Is that my power? Bending things? If ‘omnis’ means ‘all,’ does that mean I can bend anything?”


    Lulupo, equally astonished, nodded slowly. “That’s certainly what it sounds like, darling.”


    A huge smile lit up Roxanne’s face, and without another word, she dashed out of the gym like a child eager to play with a new toy. Lulupo hurried after her.


    Roxanne burst into the dormitory, eyes darting around for objects to bend. She grabbed a bed frame and twisted it into a perfect curve. Laughing, she ran to the next object: more bed frames, picture frames, even the art hanging on the walls, warping everything into elegant curves.


    For a fleeting second, she forgot the crushing loss of Andy, the horrific memory of his murder. But like a wave, that memory crashed back, sweeping away her joy. Roxanne collapsed onto the nearest bed, her body shaking with sobs as she clutched her face.


    Despite her harsh words from the day before, Lulupo sat beside her, his hand resting lightly on her shoulder as she cried.


    “Shh, darling, let it out,” he whispered softly.


    After several minutes, Roxanne’s sobs subsided, leaving behind a hollow, heavy silence. She sniffed hard, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “Andy… Andy would’ve thought this was the cat’s pajamas,” she murmured. “I need… I need this power, Lulupo. I need to make sure Andy gets the justice he deserves.”


    Roxanne clenched her fist. She slammed her fist into the bed beside her, leaving a deep, visible indent. “That creepy princess is going to pay,” she growled, her face hardening with renewed determination.


    She stood up, her shoulders squared and her voice steady. “Please… teach me how to fight. Teach me how to use Aether properly, so I can be as strong as you or Shaska.”


    Lulupo twirled gracefully and struck a dramatic pose. “Ah, darling, my fighting style was crafted by the most fabulous drag queens in the streets of Rioja! It’s meant for men who dress as women, but I suppose anyone with the heart of a maiden could learn it.”


    “Teach me!” Roxanne’s plea was desperate to the point she forgot her stance on drag queens. “I don’t care what it takes. I want to be deadly enough to destroy that creepy princess.”


    Lulupo flashed a dazzling smile and twirled again, his arms outstretched like a dancer on stage. “First, darling, you need to learn the art of dance!”


    Roxanne’s mind immediately flashed back to her wedding day, to that first awkward dance with Andy. She remembered how she had tripped, falling face-first into the cake. Her face flushed slightly. “I… I can’t dance. I basically have two left feet. But, what does that have to do with fighting…?”


    “Darling, you need to be athletic and agile. Dancing is a good prep for that.”


    Roxanne hesitated but gave a small nod.


    <hr>


    Several days had passed since the chaos in the Panipuri Kingdom, and the Humo Robinson sailed westward through the skies, leaving the bloodshed behind. Its destination: the country of Rioja, nestled between the western Losanian continents and the eastern triad of Occidentalis, Orientalis, and Cartagius. Shaska wandered the promenade, puffing on her cigar, when Carne approached her with a hint of uncertainty.


    “Hey, Shaska, have you heard back from my brothers? You gave them all that money to start businesses, right?”


    Shaska took a long drag and exhaled slowly. “Nope. After that Mazurka City mess, they probably just pocketed the cash and went right back to their old ways. Not a single call back from them”


    Carne chuckled bitterly, shaking his head. “Told you back then it was too easy. Hate that they’re probably back to fighting, but...” he thought, walking off.


    Meanwhile, Zinnia and Ren sat together on the deck, watching the rolling clouds. The ship hummed as it drifted through the open skies, and every now and then, a stray bird would land on the ship’s railing. The two women took turns shooing the birds away.


    “So... you’re from Orinoca in the far east, right?” Ren asked as she swatted away another curious bird. “What’s it like there?”


    “I cannot speak for everyone’s experience,” Zinnia began, her gaze far away. “But for me... it was different. I did not fit in with the other women. The scenery, though... Lush forests, vibrant flowers... I miss my flowers.”


    “You like flowers, huh?”


    “They fascinate me,” Zinnia said softly. “One of the reasons I left was to see all the flora the world has to offer. But then I was captured and sold... and you know the rest.”


    Ren paused, an inquisitive expression crossing her face. “Why else did you leave?”


    Zinnia hesitated for a moment, her eyes growing distant. “I was bullied... a lot. Like I said, I am not like the others. I do not like to talk much, I do not always understand people... especially when they do not say exactly what they mean.”


    Ren nodded thoughtfully. “I gotcha...”


    Suddenly, their quiet moment was interrupted by a growing darkness on the horizon. A massive storm loomed ahead, swallowing the entire sky in swirling black clouds. Winds began to whip around the Robinson, causing it to lurch in the air.


    “Oh no...” Zinnia muttered, her calm demeanor cracking. “I must return to the helm.”


    The winds intensified, howling as they buffeted the airship. The Robinson rocked dangerously, the sky filling with ominous thunderheads. Zinnia struggled against the gale, trying to make her way to the helm, but before she could take another step, a powerful gust ripped across the deck. Ren, caught off-guard, was blown off her feet, screaming as she tumbled over the railing and plummeted toward the ocean far below.


    “MISS REN!” Zinnia shouted, reaching out, but it was too late.


    Carne, who had been walking nearby, saw the whole thing. His eyes went wide, and without thinking, he sprinted through the corridors of the Robinson.


    “SHASKA! SHAAAASKA! REN FELL OVERBOARD!” Carne yelled, his voice echoing through the halls.


    Ren’s freefall was cut short as she miraculously landed on the back of a passing giant bird, halting her descent. She clung to its feathers, trying to regain her bearings as the storm raged around her.


    Carne burst into the dormitory, where Schwarz, Lulupo, and Roxanne sat. “Quick! Where’s Shaska?! Ren’s fallen off!”


    The room fell silent as everyone’s eyes widened in shock. Without hesitation, they scrambled to search for Shaska. Schwarz, thinking quickly, opened a portal into Shaska’s room, catching sight of her lounging on her bed, puffing on a cigar and, of all things, crocheting.


    “Uh… Shaska?” Schwarz stammered, still processing the sight.


    “What do you want, pretty boy? I’m busy,” Shaska said casually, not even looking up.


    “Emergency! Ren–” Schwarz tried to say.


    “Yeah, yeah, I feel the storm. Let snake girl handle it,” Shaska replied dismissively.


    “No! Ren’s fallen overboard!” he shouted, finally getting her attention.


    “Shit!” Shaska cursed, tossing aside her crochet hooks and snuffing out her cigar. She leapt out of bed and bolted for the deck. She focused Aether into her eyes as she scanned the storm-filled skies for Ren’s aura; it was about a thousand feet ahead, riding on the back of a massive bird, being carried deeper into the storm.


    “Blond pretty boy!” Shaska ordered. Schwarz appeared on deck. “Can you use one of your portals to get her back on board?!”


    “I can try!” Schwarz shouted over the howling winds. He summoned a portal in front of the bird, opening another directly beneath the Robinson. The bird, confused, flew through the portal and found itself directly beneath the airship.


    Frustrated, the bird veered off in another direction, but Schwarz quickly relocated it underneath the ship again. The bird screeched in irritation, and Ren clung to its feathers, desperately trying to grab hold of Schwarz’s hand as he reached through the portal.


    “C’mon!” he yelled.


    Ren reached out, her fingers inches from his, but the bird bolted away, and she lost her grip, plummeting once again toward the ocean below.


    “Dammit! I’m going in!” Shaska growled, ready to dive after her. She jumped off the ship, falling after Ren and ready to pull her up using the water below and her potentia.


    But the Robinson was still caught in the storm. The ship groaned and creaked as the turbulence intensified, and with a final, violent lurch, the airship began to spiral down, crashing toward the raging sea below.


    <hr>


    The Humo Robinson landed with a tremendous splash, bobbing in the ocean as waves rocked its battered frame. Despite the force of the crash, the ship was surprisingly still mostly intact. Schwarz lay sprawled on the deck, unconscious from the impact. He groaned as he came to, blinking against the disorienting blur of the now calm skies. His head pounded, and it took a moment for him to gather his bearings.


    Pushing himself up, he looked around for the rest of the crew. Everyone but Shaska and Ren were accounted for. With a sinking feeling, Schwarz realized they were missing.


    He called for an emergency meeting, leading the crew to the promenade, the floor still slick with seawater.


    Schwarz stood tall, despite the weight of the situation pressing down on him. “As de facto first mate of this vessel, I’m issuing a status report: Shaska and Ren are nowhere to be found after that storm.”


    A hush fell over the group, Zinnia''s wide eyes reflecting the growing dread among them. “What… What are we going to do without our boss?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly.


    Schwarz’s jaw tightened. “For the time being, I’m the boss,” he said, trying to project confidence. “We don’t have any other options right now. Shaska and Ren have been thrown to who knows where, and all we can do now is pray they come back safely.”


    He paused, the tension in the room thickening as he considered his next words. “Not like there’s anyone up there who will answer those prayers anyway,” he added. “But hope’s all we’ve got. We need to hope they make it to Rioja in one piece.”


    The crew was silent, each of them processing the reality of their situation. Carne, standing by the shattered window, stared out into the inky darkness. A cluster of lights flickered in the distance, barely visible against the night sky. He squinted, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.


    “Hey… Look over there…” Carne called out, pointing toward the lights. “What are those ships? Are they friendly?”


    Schwarz strode over to Carne, peering out at the distant vessels. The ships appeared connected, forming a chain across the horizon, their tiny lights glowing like stars in the darkness.


    “Once again... we can only hope,” Schwarz muttered, tension creeping into his voice.