The sparring match between Verina and Lupina had been nothing short of a spectacle—a clash of power and a little bit of sprinkle of unrestrained chaos.
And, naturally, it had also resulted in an utterly unnecessary amount of destruction.
It wasn't a matter of collateral damage—no, we were too advanced for such concerns. The Landship itself was a mobile bastion, fortified with Theotech engineering that made re structural wear and tear irrelevant.
The problem was the surrounding landscape.
I was not much of an environntalist, but since all of these utter destruction were done in the na of a friendly spar, a certain individual of the bastion was quite miffed about it.
The wake of their battle had left quite an imnse scars upon the terrain that we traveled through—deep fissures in the ground where Verina's shots had struck with overwhelming force, craters where her Furnace-induced projectiles had detonated midair, and scattered radioactive debris flung in unpredictable arcs from the sheer wind pressure of Lupina's rapid maneuvers.
Clouds of displaced dust and lingering trails of distorted heat shimred in the air. A stretch of the land that had once been a jagged, rocky expanse was now reduced to fractured ground and shattered formations of unnatural sculpture akin to that of a nine year old's ssy geotric drawing.
And all for what?
Just a friendly spar.
"Oh how utterly excessive and aningless."
A sharp snap of her fingers sent a pulse of fae energy rippling through the air, imdiately halting the battle mid-motion.
Verina, ever disciplined, had already begun adjusting her stance before Viviane even spoke, recognizing the reprimand in the very air.
Lupina, however, still hung midair, her wings outstretched, eyes gleaming with exhilaration, utterly unbothered by the obvious scolding about to happen.
Viviane's voice rang through the surrounding like a grumpy and head-boiled grandma.
"Are you both done?"
Verina didn't argue. She rely descended gracefully, somashifted her Black Wheels, and holstered her musket—the crystalline weapon folding back into its dormant state.
Lupina, on the other hand, took three full seconds longer than necessary, as if pretending to consider whether or not she wanted to keep going.
Then, with an exaggerated sigh, she let herself plumt from the sky in a spiraling descent, her jet-booster tail flickering off just before impact, allowing her to land with an infuriatingly casual roll.
"Co on, it's not that we destroyed an entire region or sothing," Lupina said,stretching her arms behind her head.
Viviane's gilded orange eyes burned with thinly veiled exasperation. "You turned an entire ten-kiloter radius into an unnecessary battlefield. I hope you're both very proud of yourselves."
I also noticed that there were quite a few casualties from passerby caravans and certain travelers that ended up getting involved with the destruction.
Thankfully, I managed to issue quick detachnts from the Duolos to reduce the casualties and create a narration that won't give us any kind of problem in the future.
"Alright," Lupina replied, not carrying a single hint of guilt whatsoever.
Verina, ever the responsible one, bowed slightly—a silent acknowledgnt of Viviane's words.
The duel was over. The Landship pressed onward.
The journey continued smoothly after that, the Landship's massive fra moving steadily toward Quruize Citadel.
"A notable phenonon is sighted within the horizon."
At least, that was the expectation—until the foreign bastion ca into view.
That ssage ca from the unfiltered intention of the Duolos Hive Mind, their synchronized cognition already ahead of us, feeding continuous real-ti reports through the neuromorphic system. Their vessels, scattered and efficient, had reached the site long before us, their keen perception sweeping over the unknown.
I leaned back into my seat, fingers tapping idly against the armrest as I shifted my focus to the holographic displays before .
From the observation do, the entire command deck beca imrsed in the streams of footage, captured by scouting drones soaring above the foreign bastion.
And the mont the first images appeared—I understood.
A bastion.
Pristine.
Intact.
Yet… empty.
The Duolos vessel standing within the observation do—acting as the representative voice of the Hive Mind—spoke, her tone neutral yet carrying the weight of sothing vast and collective.
"The bastion is empty."
Empty.
Not destroyed.
Not abandoned with signs of decay.
Not consud by calamity or torn apart by Ordeals.
Simply—empty.
The holographic feeds shifted, displaying multiple angles of the bastion's streets, its infrastructure, its buildings—all immaculate, untouched by ti or conflict.
No crumbling walls. No collapsed structures. No scattered debris.
And yet, what unsettled was not the lack of ruin—but the presence of life that still lingered.
Scattered throughout the footage were signs of recent human activity.
Half-eaten als left on wooden tables, steam still rising from ceramic bowls as if their owners had rely stepped away for a brief mont.
Chairs pulled back from desks, positioned haphazardly as if soone had stood up in mid-action.
Personal belongings—cloaks, boots, weapons—laid out neatly, ready to be retrieved, as if their owners had never expected to be gone.
Flickering lanterns, humming machinery, softly oscillating screens—all still operational.
Not a place that had been abandoned.
A place that had been occupied re hours ago.
And yet, no trace of a single soul.
Kuzunoha, who had likely already scoured the site with her perceptive extension, narrowed her eyes at the unfolding footage, her gaze flashing with sothing sharper, sothing focused.
She let out a quiet hum, swirling the deep red-gold liquid in her glass before speaking. "I sense no lingering psychic traces."
I turned my head slightly toward her. "Is that so."
If Kuzunoha—with her unparalleled expertise in arcane and eldritch resonance—felt nothin, that was an answer in itself.
Because that ant there was nothing to feel. No residual sorcery. No ohrtending signatures. No echoes of Theotech interference. Nothing at all.
Which ant this was not the result of so known calamity.
Hmm,i f sothing had taken the people of this bastion—it had done so without disturbing reality itself.
Viviane, standing with her arms crossed, let out a slow breath before adding her own insight. "My foresight found nothing within the imnse surrounding periters." She lifted her hand, adjusting the holographic interface before her, pulling up scrying grids and layered projections of her predictions. "No echoes of movents similar to that of any bastioneers coming from that bastion.
I watched as theoverlays flickered in response to her findings.
Each line of foresight was a potential thread of causality, mapping out the probabilities of where the bastioneers could have gone.
As if they had simply ceased to exist.
I let out a slow exhale, my fingers still idly tapping against the armrest.
This was not a puzzle that needed solving.
There were no imdiate threats to investigate. No enemies. No traps. No logical reason to waste ti and resources dissecting the unknowable.
And if the bastioneers were truly gone, there was no bringing them back.
"Leave it," I finally said, my voice smooth, decisive.
We would not linger. There was nothing to be gained.
Still—precautions were necessary.
I turned my gaze toward the Duolos vessel standing in the do, the ever-silent representative of the Hive Mind awaiting further instructions.
"Station ten vessels at the bastion," I ordered. "Monitor for any signs of reappearance. If the missing bastioneers return, I want to know imdiately."
The Duolos vessel inclined their head, an unspoken acknowledgnt.
It was a calculated decision.
The Duolos were stronger, more resilient than standard bastioneers. Unlike humans, they did not suffer from fatigue or the need for ntal rest—ten of them alone would be more than capable of surviving daily Ordeals without difficulty.
More importantly, they were anomalous beings themselves—if sothing intended to take them, then at least we would have data.
The Duolos vessels were already given their orders—ten of them would remain stationed in the bastion. If the missing inhabitants reappeared, they would be there to witness it. If sothing else happened—well, the Duolos were far more resilient than normal bastioneers. They could endure, even in isolation.
And even if they also disappeared, that was also more data to feed our neuromorphic network and overall library of knowledge.
With that, the Landship continued forward, leaving behind the silent, eerily untouched bastion.
"When things like this happen outside of the Ordeal, it sounds much more disturbing than it needed to be," Charis comnted.
"It's like finding bitter and crunchy bits in your soup," Lupina sighed, just as disturbed as the other.
Two hours passed in uneventful travel.
Then—the reports ca in.
A sudden halt in terrain.
The scouting Duolos vessels had reached the edge of a massive cliff.
Beyond that? Nothing.
The holographic feeds from the drones displayed a sight that should not have been possible.
A gaping drop into the unknown.
From where the cliff began, the world simply stopped.
Beyond its edge, there was no continuation of the natural landscape. No mountains, no valleys, no rivers, no ruins.
Only an endless expanse of empty, stretching ground.
And mist.
Thick, undulating mist.
It was not natural fog.
It moved wrong.
Its tendrils stretched and recoiled, flowing in directions that defied the wind. It pulsed with sothing deep, sothing hidden.
Viviane's expression darkened as she studied the visuals.
Kuzunoha rely raised an eyebrow as she smirked.
"Well, well. That's new."
Yeah, I don't like it when those words co out of Kuzunoha's mouth.
The scouting Duolos vessels remained perched near the cliffside, hovering in cautious observation.
I tapped my fingers lightly against the console, watching. Thinking.
The world had an edge, now?
No, that wasn't quite right.
This wasn't the end.
It was a divide.
Sothing had rewritten the land ahead.
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