Mikado sat cross-legged on the bed in the infirmary room.
A day had passed since the incident.
Although he wasn't badly injured, the same could not be said for
Mikami.
On the other side of The Flying Beauty, Mikami was unconscious in a
healing pod.
The pod was enhanced by a healing ring—just standing near it boosts
your recovery.
A few medical staff stood on standby, the occasional hum of the pod
and the clicking of computer systems drowning out the silence.
"…What was that…?"
Mikado looked down at his hand—the Ring of Projection glowed
faintly, as if it was in a deep slumber. Before, it radiated light like a
thousand suns.
But now, it was unusually quiet.
Mikado's soundless contemplation was interrupted when the door of
the infirmary gently slid open.
Yoriko stepped into the room.
Mikado did not glance an eye in her direction—too focused on the
ring.
Only when she called his name out three times did he snap out of
his trance.
He turned his head to look at her, "Yoriko?"
"Mhm, that's my name. Is everything alright? You look kind of… lost."
Yoriko replied, pushing a strand of hair away from her face.
Mikado sat in thought for a moment before replying, "yeah… everything's
fine. How's Mikami?"
"He's stable, he'll recover in a month."
Mikado raised a brow. "A month? Why so long?
Yoriko sighed. "The wound was deep; it tore through his hand
muscles and went deep into his internal tissue… something like that would take
several months to heal by itself."
"Really?" Mikado pondered. "So, something like that takes a month
for the machine to heal…"
The room fell back into a peaceful silence.
The deep mechanical hum of the engines vibrated softly through the
floorboards and the frequent quiet howl of the wind filled the still
atmosphere.
Mikado looked up at Yoriko.
She stared back.
It wasn't much but the mutual glance said more than a deep
conversation would ever reveal.
The moment of tranquil was interrupted when Kokuine burst through
the door—covered in bandages—arm slings—and casts all over his body.
"MIKADO!"
Kokuine's voice shook the whole room as he screamed.
"Damn it Kokuine! Read the room!" Mikado covered his ears,
narrowing his eyes in annoyance.
"And what happened to you? Why are you covered in bandages?" Yoriko
added, an unamused look on her face.
Mikado leaned back on his bed, stretching his legs. "Are those
necessary? You did get knocked out in one hit… but all you did was flop on the
ground, I don't see how it's necessary to have the arm sling or the cast on
your leg."
"Because it isn't." Seismo stepped into the room, dark oil staining
his face and apron.
Yoriko blinked. "Mr. Azusaga?"
"Yoriko, I specifically asked you to call me Seismo." He wiped some
of the grease off of his forehead. "Everyone else does."
"Understood."
"...Drop the formalities."
"Okay."
"You're coming with me young man, stop trying to skip your chores."
Seismo dragged a struggling Kokuine out of the room before the door abruptly
shut.
Once again, the room fell into silence.
Yoriko and Mikado shared a glance again.
"You okay to walk?" Yoriko calmly asked.
"Yeah, sure." Yoriko helped him to his feet and led him out of the
infirmary.
Down in the lounge, Gan and Tenma were having a fierce battle of
Pool—Maximillius overseeing the game to ensure no one was cheating.
"Once I hit the eight-ball in, you're out!" Tenma bragged, wiping
the tip of the cue with a cloth, "That's what? My twenty-ninth win?"
Gan's fingers curled tightly around the pool cue. "That's so dog,
let me have this win bro."
Even behind his helm and visor, a visibly pissed off downwards
curve formed at his lips.
"Aww, are you pouting?" Kael mocked, slouched over the couch, Irdis
holding a glass of wine behind him.
"SHUT UP! I'LL KILL YOU!"
"…That's not nice to say."
"I SAID I'LL KILL YOU!"
Maximillius interrupted dryly, "Gan, that's three points deducted
for unsportsmanlike language."
The room went silent, accompanied by the slow turn of Gan's
metallic frame.
"…What?"
"You heard me." Maximillius shrugged, leaning over the table before
popping a lollipop in his mouth.
"YOU—"
Gan was cut off as Shun suddenly barged into the lounge.
"Hey… guys… that angel dude, he's going VIRAL!"
All heads turned to Shun.
"Really?
"Show us!"
"That damned Archangel…"
"He's so cool!"
"No he isn't!"
Shun gestured with a finger. "Quiet down guys, just take a look at
it." He played a video on a blocky, static, rectangular object.
…
"Despite how cool this is… wouldn't it bring some trouble?" Idris added,
a hint of caution in his voice.
"You may be right," Shun replied. "Afterall, what happened in the
battle yesterday changed the way the world views behemoths…"
"Things are getting really serious now." Rei spoke, finally joining
the conversation after she remained quiet in the corner.
Tenma stretched his shoulder. "Whatever comes, we'll just beat it!"
"Mizuki it isn't that simple."
"Well, to me it is."
"Idiot."
Down in the mechanical sector, Seismo and the other engineers continued
analysing systems to check for damage, wear, or faults.
"Sir… shouldn't we take a break?" Kokuine suggested, visible bags
under his eyes.
"Do you think we can just sit by and relax? We're engineers
Kokuine, if we don't do our job the airship will inevitably fail." Seismo
snapped at him, not even turning his head as sparks flew into his welding hood.
"But how come the others are lazing around at the lounge??? I can
hear them from down here, they're so loud!" Kokuine tried to argue but was
immediately shut down.
"Because they're our main fighters. They need adequate rest and recovery after intense
battles to ease their minds." Seismo did not stutter. "But even then, they
still have stuff to do like train, helping out in cleaning, watching the
landscape for threats, and even assisting with maintaining the mechanical
systems if they have the skills."
Kokuine had nothing else to say and reluctantly put his greasy
gloves back on.
"I'm arguing with a wall…"
Up in the internal hanger, Magnus pressed his hands against the cold, sleek,
and metallic body of his aircraft.
To onlookers it looked odd—it like he was spiritually communicating
with the jet.
As he was stroking his hand against the plane, a figure appeared from
behind.
"Any damage?" Miyuki asked, leaning on the nose of the jet behind
him
"Only a few scratches." He replied.
He turned and faced her. "Did we lose anyone?" He asked, even
though the answer was obvious…
Miyuki turned a shoulder. "No… at least, not anyone from our
squadron."
"Then that means…"
"Mhm. Four pilots from the Red Tiger (Airship) were killed. Even worse, the
fleet lost an entire airship. Only a few pilots survived because they were in
the air before it turned into fireworks."
Magnus remained silent, pulling a cigarette and lighter from his
pocket.
"That's unfortunate… so we never recovered the bodies?"
"That is right."
The two stood in silence, gazing up at the sky through the windows in
the hangar.
Miyuki looked back at him. "I thought you quit smoking?"
"This is a one-time thing… I'm paying my tributes and respects to
the fallen. They fought well." Magnus spoke softly, blowing a breath of smoke
out of his lips. Death was especially common in this line of duty, and
everybody knew that. Many risk their lives fighting as and for the hunters.
There's a special kind of tradition within the Eurina Empire.
After every aerial battle, all personnel gather at the rear of their
airships—standing shoulder to shoulder—saluting towards the sky.
Then, caskets are gently lowered off a platform, attached to a
parachute. Some with flowers, some without. The caskets float slowly,
descending and returning to the earth of Aethyris.
This tradition is to honour the fallen soldiers, pay respects, and
let them go.
During the service, white flower petals are scattered during the
drops, accompanied by a soft tune of instruments like violins and pianos.
This tradition is known as a 'sky burial,' a practice that has been repeated since the emergence of the first
behemoth.
Today, the sky burial will be held in
the evening, when the orange rays glow the brightest.
Mikado leaned on the railings, a firm but gentle breeze pushing his
bangs away from his face.
"What's the cruising speed?" Mikado blankly asked.
Yoriko replied dryly. "Around fifty kilometres per hour with 8km/h
tailwinds."
"Wow, how do you know?"
"It says it on my watch. I'm pretty sure you have the same one."
"Do I?"
"Mhm, but it doesn't look like you wear it."
"I'm not fond of wearing watches."
"…Fair enough."
The two stood side by side, gazing into the distant mountain ranges
in Eurina territory. Seventeen kilometres away, a category one was
sited.
Technology had advanced far in the past centuries. Category one's
are considered equal to a gentle rain. Nobody really cares about it.
It's far too weak now to be any threat to a city.
Doesn't necessarily mean that anyone should approach one casually,
it's still incredibly risky and everybody knows that.
"Hey, what'd you think would happen if we fired one of our new
cannons at that thing?" Mikado asked curiously, his hand rubbing his eyes.
"It would die. Instantly."
"Fair enough."
Mikado didn't question further, he knew how weak category ones
were. After all, even Gan defeated a category two decisively, on his own too.
In two attacks even.
After staying in thought for a moment, a voice pulled them right
out—
Hatori.
"Hey Yoriko, have you seen Maximillius? He told me three hours ago
that he was going to get a spare mop to help me wipe down the kitchen because
we have kitchen duty. He still hasn't come back."
Mikado's palm met his nose. "That idiot…"
Yoriko let out drained sigh. "…He's playing Billiards at the
lounge… go chew him up."
"Will do!" Hatori exclaimed, giving a bow before turning to leave.
She stopped in her tracks.
And turned again,
"You guys coming to the service at dusk?"
Mikado and Yoriko gave a simple nod.
Hatori took that as a yes, turning around again and running back
into the halls.
Mikado glanced back at the distant mountains—Yoriko continued to
gawk at where Hatori once stood.
"Don't you think she looks like Max?"
"I guess the hair is similar. Everything else is different."
"Especially her personality." Yoriko added. "After all, she is a
fierce and loudmouthed girl. Max is just… quiet, distant… y'know?"
Mikado let out a yawn. "Yeah, I get ya. Anyways, let's take a peek in the kitchen, I'm a bit thirsty."
"Mhm, let's go." Yoriko smiled softly, watching Mikado's passing
figure through her peripheral vision.
She glanced at the mountains again before turning to follow.
But behind those mountains—a fissure began expanding in all
directions.
Like something was beginning to awaken.
The sun had begun its descent.
The sky above Eurina was painted in shades of orange and gold, the
distant clouds illuminated from beneath by the dying light.
The Flying Beauty had slowed to a near crawl.
Its engines hummed quietly.
For once, the airship was almost completely silent.
No laughter from the lounge.
No arguments.
No machinery being repaired.
No music.
Across the rear deck, personnel from the 3rd Fleet stood shoulder
to shoulder.
Hundreds of them.
Soldiers.
Engineers.
Pilots.
Medics.
Officers.
Even those who had spent the entire day recovering had gathered.
Mikado stood near the railing.
Yoriko stood beside him.
Neither spoke.
The wind brushed against their uniforms, carrying the faint scent
of the clouds and the cold air above the mountains.
Mikado looked around.
"…How many?"
Yoriko knew what he meant.
She lowered her gaze.
"We don't know."
Mikado's expression changed slightly.
"The reports are still being compiled. Around two hundred
casualties have been reported so far."
"So far…"
"Mhm."
A pause.
"They're still searching for survivors from the wreckage and
recovering what they can."
Mikado looked towards the horizon.
He didn't say anything else.
Neither did Yoriko.
A bell rang.
Once.
The sound travelled across the entire deck.
Everyone straightened.
The conversations stopped.
The officers at the front stepped towards the rear platform.
Behind them were the caskets.
Rows of them.
Some were marked with names.
Some had only identification numbers.
Others remained completely unmarked.
There were too many.
Mikado's eyes slowly moved across them.
He recognised some of the names.
Others meant nothing to him.
But every one of them had belonged to somebody.
A friend.
A sibling.
A parent.
A comrade.
Someone who had once stood on this very airship.
Someone who had expected to come home.
Magnus stood among the pilots.
His expression was unusually still.
His cigarette was gone.
He didn't need it anymore.
An officer stepped forward.
He removed his cap.
"Today, we remember those who did not return from the Ancient
Ruins."
Silence.
"The ones that died in the skies."
"They fought so that others could live."
The officer looked towards the horizon.
"They fought as hunters."
A pause.
"And they died as Eurinians."
Every soldier raised their right hand.
A salute.
The wind swept across the deck.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Then the first casket was brought forward.
Two soldiers carried it towards the platform.
A parachute was secured carefully around it.
A small bundle of white flowers rested upon the lid.
The casket was lowered.
The parachute opened.
Slowly—
It began to descend.
Mikado watched it disappear into the orange horizon.
Then another.
And another.
And another.
One after the other.
White petals were released from the deck.
They scattered into the wind, drifting alongside the descending
caskets.
A soft melody began playing.
Violins.
A piano.
Nothing dramatic.
Nothing overwhelming.
Just a quiet melody carried across the open sky.
Mikado's eyes followed the petals.
One landed against his hand.
He looked down at it.
A small white flower.
He gently closed his fingers around it.
Yoriko noticed.
She said nothing.
Neither did he.
The caskets continued their descent.
Hundreds of them.
Some with flowers.
Some without.
Some carrying names.
Some carrying people whose names might never be known.
The orange light reflected against the white parachutes, turning
them almost golden.
For a brief moment, the sky looked peaceful.
Beautiful.
Almost too beautiful for what was happening beneath it.
Mikado finally spoke.
"…They'll reach the ground, right?"
Yoriko looked at him.
"Yes."
He nodded.
"Good."
Another casket disappeared beyond the clouds.
Mikado watched until he could no longer see it.
The melody continued.
The wind continued.
And the sun continued sinking.
Eventually, the final casket was carried towards the platform.
The soldiers carrying it stopped.
Unlike the others, there was no name.
No flowers.
No identification.
Just a blank metal plate.
One of the soldiers stared at it for a moment.
Then gently placed a single white flower on top.
The officer raised his hand.
Everyone saluted.
The final casket descended.
The music slowly faded.
The sun disappeared behind the mountains.
For several moments, nobody moved.
Then the officer lowered his hand.
"Dismissed."
The soldiers slowly dispersed.
Some returned inside.
Some remained outside.
Some stood alone by the railing.
Mikado remained where he was.
Yoriko stayed beside him.
Neither of them spoke.
The last traces of orange light disappeared from the sky.
And far below them—
The caskets continued their descent towards Aethyris.
Returning home.