The revelation hung in the air, a silent thunderclap only Haruto could hear. He wasn't alone. The thought was a complex cocktail of relief, responsibility, and tactical reassessment. Relief, because the crushing weight of being the sole survivor of the Icarus had lessened. Responsibility, because if there were other Imperial soldiers out there, they were his to find, his to lead. And reassessment, because more survivors meant more variables, more assets, but also more mouths to feed and more potential for conflict.
His sudden, rigid focus on the northern mountains did not go unnoticed. Himari took a tentative step closer, her expression a mixture of concern and curiosity. "Haruto? What is it? What do you see?"
Haruto took a moment to compose his thoughts, running a thousand simulations in his mind. He couldn't just announce the presence of a technological beacon. The concept was too alien, the implications too vast. He needed to frame it in a way they could understand, a way that aligned with their shared goal of survival.
"There's a signal," he finally said, turning to face them. His voice was calm, but carried an undeniable weight. Akari translated his words, stripping out the technical jargon and leaving the core meaning. "Far to the north, in those mountains. It's like a… a call for help. A homing beacon. It's from my people."
The three natives stared at him, their expressions a study in shock. The idea that there could be more people like Haruto, more star-fallen anomalies, was a possibility they had never considered.
"More?" Kaito was the first to speak, his hand instinctively going to the hilt of his sword. "More of you? Are they… friends?" The question was laced with a healthy dose of suspicion. They had come to trust Haruto, but a group of unknown sorcerers was another matter entirely.
"They are soldiers of the Empire," Haruto stated, his tone leaving no room for argument. "They are my comrades. If they are alive, I have a duty to find them."
"This is a perilous journey," Riku pointed out, his pragmatic nature taking over. "The northern ranges are home to Grayha packs larger than any we've seen, not to mention cliff-wyverns. To go there is to court death."
"Staying here is also a risk," Haruto countered, his gaze sweeping over their newly fortified but still isolated home. "We are four people in a hostile world. Strength lies in numbers and superior resources. If there are other survivors, they may have equipment, supplies, and skills that we desperately need. A medic. An engineer. More soldiers. We cannot afford to ignore a potential alliance."
He was framing the rescue mission as a tactical imperative, a logic they could understand. He was right. Four people, no matter how capable, could not hope to rebuild a kingdom or even survive indefinitely.
Himari, who had been listening intently, finally spoke. Her voice was clear and resolute. "When my kingdom fell, I lost everything. You have given me a chance to rebuild. Your people are now my people. We will go with you."
Her declaration settled the matter. Kaito and Riku, their loyalty to her absolute, nodded in firm agreement. The debate was over. The mission was on.
"Good," Haruto said, a flicker of approval in his eyes. "Then we prepare."
The next three days were a whirlwind of methodical activity, orchestrated by Haruto with military precision. He became a quartermaster, an instructor, and a strategist all at once. He used his nanomachines to fabricate durable, lightweight packs from synthesized polymers, far superior to their leather satchels. He created compact, high-energy ration bars that tasted like chalk but provided a full day's worth of nutrients in a single serving.
He also began their training. He taught Kaito and Riku the basics of fire-team tactics: covering fire, bounding overwatch, and how to use the terrain to their advantage. He gave them each a plasma pistol, drilling them for hours on a makeshift firing range until they could handle the weapons with a degree of competence, their initial awe replaced by a focused respect for the power in their hands.
For Himari, he fabricated a different kind of tool: a high-powered, variable-frequency scanner. "This will help us navigate," he explained, showing her how to interpret the simple topographical display. "It will show us cliffs, caves, and large life forms. Your knowledge of this world's flora and fauna combined with this device's senses will make you our scout."
He was not just arming them; he was empowering them, integrating them into a cohesive unit. He was turning two medieval guards and a princess into a modern special operations squad. On the dawn of the fourth day, they stood at the newly forged gate, looking north. The fortress was secure, a silent stone anchor in a sea of green. They had a home to return to. Now, they had a mission to execute.
"The signal is intermittent, its power source is likely failing," Haruto said, adjusting the pack on his shoulders. "The journey will take at least a week, likely more. Stay alert. We are entering enemy territory of a kind we have not yet faced."
With that, he pushed open the heavy gate and stepped out into the wilderness, his three companions following close behind. They were no longer just survivors. They were a rescue team, marching towards an unknown future under the alien sun of Ares.