"Raizen."
The voice arrived from sowhere outside the soft, dark place his mind had been resting in. Firm but gentle, pulling him upward without urgency.
"Raizen, wake up."
He didn’t want to. His body had spent the last weeks processing more than it had been built to process in a year, and it had finally found a position it approved of.
But the voice persisted, and his eyes opened by reflex.
Alteea was crouched in front of him.
Her sunglasses had been pushed up onto her head, the dark lenses sitting in her hair like a second pair of eyes. Her actual eyes - sharp, amused, slightly tired around the edges - were level with his.
"Hey, grand traveler. We’re here."
Raizen blinked. The aircraft, the cabin, the gentle hum of thrusters that had carried them more than a hundred kiloters. The pressure-differential aircraft. Alteea’s pride and joy. They’d been flying for -
He didn’t know how long. He’d fallen asleep almost imdiately, and the sleep had been deep enough that ti stopped existing inside it.
His head was resting on sothing.
Soft. Warm. The shape of a shoulder, the fabric of a familiar dress, a scent he knew before his eyes finished focusing.
Saffi.
She was sitting perfectly still beside him. Her face was red - not the deep flush from the porch with Kenzo, or the festival-red from the lap pillow. But she was still red. She sat motionless for an unknown amount of ti with a head on her shoulder and decided not to move.
Raizen pulled himself upright, slowly, the awkwardness made worse by Alteea’s amused face less than a ter away. His neck protested - the angle had been wrong - and he rolled it once, the joints popping.
"Sorry," he muttered to Saffi.
"I- It’s fine."
Across the aisle, Kenzo was already standing. Eiden sat near the cockpit, composed, his gloved hands folded in his lap.
The aircraft’s side door began to open.
The hydraulic chanism humd, the gull-wing panel rising in its smooth, theatrical arc. Daylight poured into the cabin - clean white light, filtered through the world’s standard cloud cover. The familiar muted illumination Raizen had spent his entire life under and hadn’t realized he’d missed until Ukai’s hole had spoiled him for a day.
Then the figures appeared in the doorway.
Wardens.
Six of them, maybe more behind. Full uniform, weapons holstered but visible. They stood in a loose formation outside the aircraft, faces neutral, posture professional.
Raizen’s mind detonated.
The cold mode activated faster than it ever had - scenarios cascading through his thoughts, each one assessed in fractions of a second. Did Eiden talk? Did the Council connect the column to ? Did the Echelon find prints on the broken locks? Did Saffi’s presence get reported? Did the scanner’s transformation register on soone’s instrunts? Is Marcus involved? Is this an arrest? Am I -
The scenarios ca faster than he could file them. He was already cataloguing exit angles, calculating distances to cover, checking his blade access -
The Wardens stepped aside.
They didn’t approach the aircraft. They ford an aisle, their bodies creating a corridor that led from the door outward onto the platform. They weren’t coming in. They were waiting for soone to co out.
Eiden stood up. The motion was quiet. He smoothed his shirt, adjusted his gloves, and walked toward the door.
At the threshold, he stopped and turned. Looked back at the people who had spent the last week with him - at Kenzo, at Raizen, at Saffi, then a quick glance at Alteea watching from the cockpit doorway.
He extended both hands. Wrists together, palms up.
Kenzo crossed the cabin in three strides and placed one wide hand on the professor’s shoulder.
The contact lasted maybe two seconds. Kenzo didn’t say anything. Just the hand - heavy, warm, the sa hand that had almost strangled the proffessor weeks ago, the sa hand that had nudged Eiden at the railing with a promise about nerdy stuff in prison. The sa physical language Kenzo used for anything that mattered for him.
Eiden’s head dipped. A small nod.
The Wardens moved forward. Cuffs appeared - proper ones, electromagnetic, reserved for high-value detainees. Eiden’s wrists were secured. They led him down the ramp and into the formation, the corridor closing behind him as he passed.
Raizen watched.
The pieces assembled without effort. Eiden hadn’t been a free man during the Echelon summit - he’d been on temporary release. The mountain, the deaths, the staff incident years ago - all of it had been pending, paused while the Echelon needed him. Now the etings were over. The pause was lifted. Eiden was returning to the legal accountability that had been waiting, and he was returning to it the way he did everything: composed, voluntary, with the dignity of a man who had made peace with his choices long before the consequences arrived.
Kenzo turned away from the door. His face was calm, but his eyes carried sothing heavier - the weight of a complicated relationship walking away under guard. The mountain. The pupil. Years of unresolved grief.
Raizen looked at him. Kenzo caught the look. Smiled - small, wry. "Don’t worry about him. He’ll be fine. Smartypants knows how to handle himself."
The nickna was the closest Kenzo would ever get to a public statent of affection for the man who had cost him a student. Raizen caught the weight of it, and said nothing.
They disembarked.
The platform was on the eastern landing field - an empty section of the Academy’s grounds, a runway extending out from the flat grassy ground in a long flat surface designed for aircrafts and Vanguard shuttles. The standard cloud cover hung overhead, white and even. Raizen looked up and felt the absence of the hole - the perfect circle of blue that had been hanging over Ukai, the wound in the world’s roof that wasn’t above this city. Here, the ceiling was unbroken. The sky was the way it had always been. He missed the hole. He hadn’t expected to, but he did.
Raizen breathed in. The Neoshima air hit him - that specific tallic tang of a city built on industrial infrastructure, the sll of forged steel, Eon discharge from the Academy and the faint ozone signature of the Heart operating sowhere deep below. He’d missed this, too, without knowing. Ukai had been beautiful - wet wood, moss and impossible flowers - but this was ho.
A drone passed overhead. Small, sleek. He almost flinched, rembering of the ones that had chased them through Ukai’s canopy two nights ago, taser projectiles streaking past his face as Elin’s dragon banked between trunks. Different city, different drone, different purpose. This one was Academy security on routine, registering Raizen’s group as expected and continuing its sweep without alarm.
Two Heart engineers approached across the platform – white coats, tool belts, walking quickly. They greeted Alteea, changed a few words with her, and nodded as she gestured at the aircraft, saying sothing Raizen couldn’t hear. They began the inspection.
Saffi walked beside Raizen. They didn’t speak. The aircraft sleep had reset sothing - the awkwardness from the bench was still there but quieter, present as a known weight rather than an active wound. The shoulder, the head resting against it, her decision not to move - none of it had been discussed. None of it would be. They were back, and back together, and what they were rebuilding could hold what had happened on a bench under rising lanterns.
Alteea finished with the engineers and turned to the group. She hugged Saffi first - long, fierce, lifting her slightly off the ground. The hug an aunt gives when she’s missed her niece more than her ssages during the trip suggested.
Then she lowered her sunglasses back onto her nose and looked at Raizen over the top of the lenses.
"We’re going down to the Heart. You coming?"
Raizen hesitated. His eyes drifted toward the Academy’s main buildings, visible in the distance - the classroom blocks, the dormitories, the Crown Spine where his life would resu in whatever shape it took next. He wanted to go there first. Wanted to find his group of Royal Scholars, his daily life. Wanted to see -
He didn’t finish the thought.
"Yeah. I’m coming."
He’d see the others later. The Heart had answers - about the scanner, the dical files, whatever Alteea had been processing during the flight that had made her face go quiet in the cockpit. Those couldn’t wait. The cohort could.
They walked. Alteea led, Saffi behind her, Raizen behind Saffi. Kenzo peeled off, muttering sothing about real food and at before disappearing toward the Glowline, eyes already drifting, looking for a good restaurant.
The tal runway lowered back into the field, slope flattening. Soon, they were underground again, in the place where every aircraft was being prepared before missions, a kind of hangar. Alteea took them to the side, hugging Saffi before opening a reinforced tal door with a palm scan, and the elevator inside humd to life, descending into the city’s underbelly - the workshop and laboratory complex that produced everything Neoshima needed to function and most of what Alteea was building it toward.
The elevator was silent during the descent. This wasn’t the big one that could fit twelve people inside. It was a smaller one, designed only for quick access to the Heart’s main floor. Saffi stood with her hands clasped in front of her, her bracelet catching the overhead light. Raizen stood beside her. Alteea leaned against the back wall, sunglasses still on, her face giving nothing away.
The silence stretched. Alteea’s eyes moved between them once, brief and assessing. She knew sothing was off - Saffi’s shoulders, Raizen’s slight extra distance, the careful way they weren’t quite standing as close as they used to. She didn’t ask anything, and let the silence continue.
Raizen broke it.
"Hey, Alteea."
"Mm?"
"When Solomon’s gone - like now, with him in Ukai and traveling for a while - who’s in charge of the whole city?"
Alteea’s mouth curved. Slowly. The smile was just as Raizen rembered it – teasing, jolly, mischievous. The smile of soone who’d been asked their favorite question
The elevator reached the main floor, and as the doors opened, Alteea slid her sunglasses down her nose again.
"Funny you should ask."
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