Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There were many ways Shin had imagined dying.

A Legion bullet through the skull. A blown Processor unit. Maybe even bleeding out in a crater, clutching Fido's sparking frame while whispering something poetic, like a real tragic hero.

He hadn't pictured waking up in a fluorescent-lit office filled with potted plants and a vending machine that only dispensed pineapple Fanta.

"Major Nouzen," came a voice from behind him. Calm. Cheerful. Definitely too chipper for what Shin assumed was the afterlife.

He turned.

And then blinked.

And blinked again.

Because standing in front of him was—no, it had to be—Raiden.

Except Raiden was wearing a lavender suit. With sparkles. And sipping bubble tea.

“Hey there, Shin-8676. Welcome to the M.P.O.,” said Sparkly Raiden, flashing a peace sign. “Multiverse Preservation Organization. We stop idiots like you from breaking reality.”

“…This is hell.”

“Nah,” Raiden said, already walking. “Hell has less paperwork.”

Shin followed him through the pristine white halls, every step echoing like a dramatic monologue waiting to happen. As they passed a room labeled Interdimensional Therapy , he heard someone sobbing, “I kissed my alternate self and now I don’t know who I am anymore!”

He wisely didn’t ask.

They finally stopped at a door labeled ‘Orientation - Shin Nouzen (Serial #8676)’. Raiden tapped it open with his bubble tea straw.

Inside sat a woman. Pale skin. Silver hair. silver eyes.

Lena.

But… not his Lena.

This one was chewing gum and had sunglasses on indoors .

"Sup," she said without looking up. "I’m Commander Lena-5539. I’m the Lena in charge of onboarding all problem Shins. You’re late.”

“…Problem Shins?”

“We have about 400 of you in holding. One’s a jazz pianist. One's a talking sword. One leads a boy band. But you —you broke a Factor Event.”

Raiden whistled. “Oof. Rookie mistake.”

"But those Vampire Shin's are some hunky pieces of meat." The alternate Lena purred.

Shin opened his mouth to argue, realized he didn’t understand a single thing, and closed it again.

Commander Lena snapped her gum. “Long story short? You saved a guy who was supposed to die. Good instinct. Bad multiversal consequences. So now, as community service—”

Raiden stepped in. “—you’re going to Quantum Leap into different versions of yourself across alternate realities, fix the messes they made, and then jump to the next.”

“Do I get a choice?”

Both Lena and Raiden burst into synchronized laughter.

They handed him a tablet. It flickered to life, showing an image of… Shin. But this version wore a leather trench coat and had blood dripping from a katana.

Universe 8777: Vampire Hunter Shin.

Shin stared. “This… is my first mission?”

“Yup,” Raiden said. “You’ll wake up in his body. You’ll have all his skills. All his weapons. And unfortunately—his fashion sense.”

Lena grinned. “Just remember. Don’t die. If you die in the universe, your consciousness gets ejected like a bad USB stick.”

Shin didn’t even get a chance to ask what a USB stick was before the floor opened beneath him .

His mind went white.

Then black.

Then—

Universe 8777
Location: Crimson Hollow, 2:13 A.M.
Status: Mid-battle. Minor blood loss. Extremely dramatic lighting.

Shin gasped awake.

Leather clung to his arms. His hands were wrapped around the hilt of a sword that screamed “edgy teen phase,” and his mouth tasted like someone had poured hot iron into it.

A vampire lunged at him.

“Lord Shin!” cried a voice nearby. “Behind you!”

He didn’t think.

He moved.

He spun, kicked, sliced. The vampire shrieked and turned to ash.

Shin lowered his sword, panting.

A girl with bat wings and tearful eyes ran up to him. “You’re alive! The Vampire King didn’t kill you after all!”

“…Sure,” Shin said.

He looked up at the blood moon.

Then down at his black leather pants.

And sighed, long and deep.

"This is going to suck."

Shin was not a man of fashion. In his world, battle gear had one job: not get him killed. Utility over aesthetics. Combat boots, breathable jackets, gloves for grip.

So standing in a moonlit graveyard, wearing skintight leather pants and a high-collared trench coat that flared dramatically every time the wind so much as sneezed ?

Humiliating.

He tugged at the collar. It snapped back into place with a shing like a katana unsheathing itself.

A young girl with messy black hair and tiny bat wings flapped nervously at his side. “M’lord… Are you… still injured?”

“I’m fine,” Shin muttered. “And stop calling me—”

“ Lord Shin , please! We must return to the Crimson Keep before the Vampire King tracks your soul signature again! He’s bound to the scent of your blood and hatred!”

He stared.

“…What.”

“Did you hit your head again?!” she squeaked, fluttering closer. “That’s the third time this week! ”

“Right.” Shin rubbed his temples. “Okay. First question. What’s your name?”

The bat girl blinked. “You named me.”

“Humor me.”

“Mischa. Famulus Mischa Bloodflutter, Third House of Night.”

He stared again. “I did not name you.”

“You said it sounded cool and would look great on a sigil.”

He definitely did not.

Somewhere, the original Shin of this world was probably screaming inside a coffin full of angst.

They made their way back to the Crimson Keep.

Shin had no idea how he knew the route, but his body—this body—moved like it had memorized every twisted cobblestone of the cursed woods. Every step was fluid, trained, deadly. He could feel the muscle memory reacting to threats he hadn’t even seen yet. Fangs in the dark. The flutter of dead wings. Something slithering in the soil.

When they arrived, Mischa unlatched the keep’s massive obsidian gates. Inside, torchlight flickered against stone carved with runes. A giant painting of this world’s Shin hung over the mantle: trench coat billowing, red eyes glowing, a greatsword strapped to his back, and… yes. A single tear on his cheek. For aesthetic purposes, probably.

“Why is there a painting of me crying?”

“It shows the depth of your tortured soul.”

Shin walked past it.

In his chambers—because of course this Shin had chambers —he sat down on a velvet throne that squeaked under his weight. Everything here was overly gothic. Skull-shaped goblets. A coffin that looked more expensive than most mansions. A raven perched on a chandelier, watching him like it knew he didn’t belong.

“Okay,” he muttered to himself. “Let’s figure this out.”

Mission One: Survive.

Mission Two: Don’t let anyone find out he wasn’t this Shin.

Mission Three: Don’t die in leather pants. There was dignity to consider.

Mischa returned with what looked like blood tea and a scroll.

“I found your itinerary,” she chirped. “Tomorrow: Confrontation with the Vampire King at Castle Dreadspire. After that: a poetry reading in the Mourning Garden.”

He nearly choked. “A what ?”

“You said you wanted to express your grief through metaphors.”

“Did I,” Shin deadpanned. “Well, we’ll skip that part.”

“B-but, m’lord, your poem was going to be called ‘Ashes of the Heart I Never Had.’ ”

He blinked.

“…Okay, that one’s not bad.”

That night, he couldn’t sleep.

Even in a feathered canopy bed bigger than a Legion tank, his thoughts kept circling. This version of him—this Vampire Hunter Shin—was clearly driven by vengeance, flair, and an obsession with drama that bordered on cosplay-level commitment.

But even more disturbing… was how familiar the anger felt.

It clawed under his ribs. Tightened behind his eyes.

It reminded him of before the war ended. Before his squadmates died. When revenge was the only thing he had to hold onto.

And the question rose, unbidden:

If I’d lost everyone again… would I have ended up like this?

The next morning, Shin was halfway through grappling with a decorative cravat when the castle shook.

A screech echoed through the valley, high-pitched and sharp like twisted metal.

Mischa burst into the room, eyes wide. “He’s here!”

“Vampire King?”

She nodded. “He came early! He defied the dramatic timeline! ”

“Okay, we’re skipping foreplay.”

He strapped on his twin swords—apparently called Bloodbane and Soulpiercer (he groaned internally)—and charged for the gates.

Castle Dreadspire was visible even from here.

A towering mass of obsidian spikes and glowing red veins, like a cathedral and a giant middle finger to architectural logic had a baby.

As he neared the base of the keep, the Vampire King descended from the sky in a cloak made of literal shadows.

“SHIN NOUZEN!” the vampire bellowed, voice booming across the hills. “You wear that name like a crown of thorns. Tonight, we finish what fate began!”

Shin blinked. “Did you rehearse that?”

“Every night, for five hundred years.”

“I can tell.”

They clashed.

Sword met claw. Light met darkness. It was like something out of a Final Fantasy boss fight, complete with thunder in the background and floating rubble.

For all his doubts, this body moved perfectly . Every swing. Every block. He didn’t think—he acted . On instinct. On trained reflex. On whatever weird emo vampire discipline this world had built into him.

But the longer the fight went on, the more Shin felt something… slipping.

Flashes.

Memories that weren’t his.

A battlefield littered with ash. Screams. Fangs. Mischa sobbing over a fallen body. His own hands, soaked in blood— not his, never his —but always blamed .

And then—
Lena.
Her silver hair. Her trembling voice, whispering, “Don’t become like them.”

He froze.

Just a second.

But it was enough.

The Vampire King struck him across the ribs, sending him flying into a stone pillar that definitely cracked something.

Pain flared through him.

The vampire loomed. “It was always going to end like this.”

Shin coughed. Blood. Not metaphorical.

And then he said, “Maybe.”

He stood.

“No matter the world, no matter the version… I’m always the last one standing.”

The sword glowed red.

Mischa screamed his name.

Shin leapt.

And he ended it.

When the vampire disintegrated into nothingness, Shin collapsed to his knees, panting.

Mischa ran to him, crying.

“M’lord! You did it! The curse is lifted!”

He gave her a tired smile. “Guess I’m good at killing things in any universe.”

She hugged him.

And something ached inside his chest.

Not from the ribs.

From her words.

From how she meant it.

[Mission Complete. Transfer Initializing…]

The world shimmered. Mischa blurred. The crimson skies melted into static.

“Wait!” she cried. “What’s happening—?!”

He reached out to her, but it was already too late.

TRANSFER: UNIVERSE 1263 LOADING…DESIGNATION: A PLACE A VAMPIRE CAN CALL HOME.

Status: ERROR. Neural sync unstable. Personality traits may… fluctuate.

Host: Shinei Nouzen. Vampire.

Mission: Milizé Vladilena.

TO BE CONTINUED………………

Chapter Text

TRANSFER COMPLETE—>UNIVERSE: 1263—>Designation:A Place A Vampire Can Call Home.

Looking straight down, Shin found himself locked in a gaze with a pair of wide, tear-rimmed silver eyes. Lena’s silver eyes.

She looked terrified, confused, and mildly offended—like a cat caught in a Roomba’s path.

It took him a full three seconds to realize two things:

One, he had her pinned to the ground.

Two, his hand was over her mouth and the other had her wrist pinned.

And she was dressed like a nun.

A nun.

His brain short-circuited.

Oh god.

Oh no.

Was this some kind of unholy cosplay BDSM universe?!

With the grace of a man who just realized he might’ve committed a felony in a church, Shin scrambled backward like the floor was lava, letting go of her like she was on fire.

He stood, chest heaving, looking around for any context clues.

That’s when he spotted it—his reflection in a vanity mirror.

Black cape. Red silk lining. Absurdly tall collar. Velvet vest. Pale complexion.

He looked like the final boss of a high school theater production.

Shin opened his mouth. Fangs. Real ones.

Great. From edgy blade rip off to Hot Topic Robert pattinson in twilight.

…Who the hell is Robert Pattinson? He shoved the thought aside like it owed him money.

Lena was sitting up now, blinking fast, visibly trying to figure out if she was being assaulted, exorcised, or pranked.

Then Shin saw it.

A knife. Next to her on the floor.

His face paled further—if that was even possible.

“Oh my god,” he muttered. “It’s worse than I thought. Blood play.”

He held up his hands slowly, like she was a raccoon with a gun.

“Okay, let’s just get one thing straight—I’m not into that kinky stuff. I like my blood in my body. Y’know… like God intended.”

Lena’s expression morphed from fear to furious blush in 0.5 seconds, with a brief stop at “internal system error.”

“You absolute pervert—” she began.

“Self-defense!” Shin blurted, pointing dramatically. “I thought you were a demon in a sexy disguise!”

She picked up the knife. He bolted for the nearest door.

“You’re the one dressed like a Bathtub Dracula!” she shouted after him.

“I didn’t choose this body!” Shin yelped back.

Knock! Knock!

The Lena variant turned her head toward the door, eyes widening. She was about to say something.

Panic slapped Shin across the face like a wet towel.

“Wait—wait no!” he hissed, scrambling forward like a man trying to stop a fire alarm with sheer willpower. “Listen, this is all a huge misunderstanding! Just—just please don’t let anyone come in!”

He clasped his hands together in a dramatic plea.

Oh god.

What if voyeurism was normal here?! Was he about to be the star of some unholy “Nuns & Nosferatu” live reenactment?!

Lena gave him a blank stare like she was deciding whether to call the cops or the Vatican. The anger on her face softened into deep, weary confusion—like she was rethinking every choice that led her to this moment.

She stood up, calmly fixed her hair like she hadn’t just been body-pinned by a bootleg Dracula, and walked toward the door.

Shin panicked harder.

He whipped around and pressed himself flat against the nearest wall like a really bad spy in a really bad movie.

“C’mon… turn into a bat, turn into a bat…” he muttered under his breath, squeezing his eyes shut.

Instead of magic, all he managed to do was contort his face like he was trying to pass a bowling ball.

The effort was Herculean. The result?

He looked like he was fighting for his life on a toilet.

Lena glanced over her shoulder.

“…Are you constipated?”

Shin gasped, mid-squat. “NO! I’m trying to VAMPIRE!”

She blinked.

“Right,” she said, flatly. “Of course you are.”

And then opened the door.

Lena went to answer the door. “Good morning, How can I help you?” She said, acting as if the event that had just occurred didn’t happen. 

“Oh thank goodness you’re alive!” A voice came from the other side. From where Shin stood he couldn’t see who it was, but considering the whack bullshit that’s been happening in the last…How many hours (However the hell time works in the multiverse) he really didn’t want to know. 

“When you didn’t answer the door right away, we feared the worse had become of you, sister.”

Lena cocked her head in confusion. “I’m sorry… Did something happen that I should know about? Forgive me. I’m still new around here and still learning how things operate in the church and town. I’m still trying to familiarize myself with the area and my work, but I can’t help but get occasionally lost in all of it.” She gave a small smile to the hunters to ease their worries.

“I see… well we don’t want to cause you unnecessary worry given that the reverend and his assistant are currently out of town and you are here all alone.” 

“It’s no worry! It is my job to take care of this place while he is absent. So please, don’t hold back on my account!” Her small smile then grew into one of confidence. 

“Well you see… while the two of us were out hunting last night, well… I guess it was technically this morning, we came across… a vampire.”

“A vampire…” Lena said, her eyes widening.

“Eh! Please don’t worry, sister! It ran away after we shot it, so-“

“You shot him?! W-why would you do that?” She asked a little too loudly.

“Eh… well, we saw it feasting on a deer in the woods. We were rather terrified by the sight and tried to stay as quiet as possible, but then it noticed us! We were frozen in fear as it began to stand up and slowly approach us. It started to say some things but then…” 

Well…That explained the hole in his shirt. It was kind of a nice shirt too, Shin had to admit…Man screw those guys.

“I-I shot it! I hit it in the chest but it ran off! We chased after it but couldn’t find it anywhere… and that’s why we came here to warn you about it-“

“You shouldn’t do such things.”

“Umm, sister?”

“Why would you just shoot someone like that?” Lena asked, wearing a look of displeasure, from what Shin could see. “Just because he was a vampire… that doesn’t mean he’s dangerous.” She gripped the sides of her dress.

“But! It was going to hurt us!”

Well fuck you too, and for your information, bats eat fruit…You Bums. He couldn’t see what they looked like, but if their appearances were anything like their voices, they probably dressed like hobos in Chicago………what the hell is Chicago!? Where are these words coming from!?

 Lena, noticing the lack of progress and reasoning in the conversation, took a deep breath and decided to continue but with a different approach, “You found him while he was eating. He might’ve been scared too and wanted to talk to you.”

“I doubt it. I’m sure it’s the cause of all the murders recently.”

Lena’s eyes widen in shock “Murders?”

“Given how new you are to the area and how rarely you visit the town, it only makes sense why you wouldn’t have heard about them. There have been three people found dead over the last few days, two women and one man. Their bodies were all discovered in the street with their throats having been slashed and bled out. There’s more that was done to them but I would rather not share those details.”

Huh okay…So this wasn’t a cosplay BDSM universe? Thank god.

“How awful…”  Lena said.  “How do you know it was a vampire?”

“Huh?”

“Did you see them commit the murder? Were there any witnesses to confirm this?”

“Well, no… but what else would have the gall to commit such a bloody horrific act?”

…They weren’t wrong, if Castlevania the netflix series was anything to go by. Then it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility for something like that. Shin thought to himself, not even bothering to acknowledge the obvious terms and references he had never heard of in a day in his 20 years of living.

“He may be different from us humans but just like elves, witches, and demi-humans, he’s still a person with their own rights! If he is the murder he should be put on trial and punished for his crimes like any other person.” Lena told the other men with passion. 

Well, looks like she was still an activist in this universe. At least that stayed consistent. Even in his own universe she stood up for others that couldn’t do it themselves. That was a part of her, he loved…And he still did.

“You know… for a Sister, you don’t talk like one… I was expecting to hear something like “We must leave it to the Lord’s hands, and He will deliver justice.””

“Eh? I have been hearing that a lot lately.” The girl gave a nervous chuckle. “I’m sorry, please forgive me. I’m still new to all this and have much to learn in the ways of proper speech and conduct.” The girl gave an apologetic bow.

“Ah no need to apologize, it was rude of me to say… umm if I’m being honest, given the state of the situation, I think you should return to town with us. There are plenty of friends of the Reverend who would gladly house you until he returns. We can help you transport your belongings to town, sister.”

Okay, so she was a religious type in this universe. Shin thought to himself. The thing that really got him about that was the chest window. He just didn't think she would be so…Rotund? Bulbous? He shook his head, attempting to get those thoughts out of his head. He was in a house of God afterall.

Lena smiled and shook her head, declining their offer. “No. I will stay here. That is my job…as a servant of the Lord.”

 “Well if that is what you want, we will not force you. We will pray for your safety, sister.” 

“As will I.” Lena brought up her hands and closed them together, she closed her eyes, and said, “I pray that whoever is the murderer will be found and judged accordingly for his crimes.”

From the sound of it, the two men were making their way down the porch, until. “Ah! I just remembered we never even asked. We should’ve started with this first but… you haven’t seen a vampire around here have you?”

She paused for a moment and just gave a warm smile back at him, “I’m sorry. I haven’t seen any vampires around here.” 

The men finally left. Her shoulders sagged as she let out a long deep sigh.

“...Thanks for that.” As if appearing out of nowhere, Shin was standing in front of her, causing her to flinch in surprise. Wait, how did he do that? 

“No problem...” 

“Okay listen, I have no clue where the hell I am.” Shin said. He noticed Lena staring at him in mild confusion in awe. “...what is it?” He asked her.

“Your cape… How…?” Lena pointed at him, her voice equal parts baffled and mildly offended.

Shin blinked, turned, and—

Yup.

His cape was billowing dramatically behind him.

They were indoors.

All windows shut. No fans. No vents. No logic.

And yet—there it was. Swooshing like it was auditioning for a shampoo commercial.

Was that…an organ playing?

He froze.

Off in the distance, echoing through the stone walls like a Gothic fever dream, a pipe organ was dramatically vibing.

Lena tilted her head, deeply concerned. “What is that?”

“I—don’t ask.” Shin sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I’m so done with this universe. I just want five minutes without theatrical nonsense.”

And then—

crackle

A familiar para-RAID-like hiss entered his ear. Static fuzzed, followed by a voice:

“Yo. Raiden here. What’s up dude? How you holdin’ up?”

Shin blinked. “Raiden? How—?”

CRUNCH

Was he…eating?

“Oh yeah— crunch —forgot to mention,” Raiden said casually, chewing like he was reviewing snacks for a food blog. “We, uh, slipped a nano chip in the base of your skull. crunch Kinda like a para-RAID, but, y’know... with a microscopic hydrogen bomb strapped to it.”

Shin stared blankly into the void.

“…I’m sorry—WHAT!?” he screeched, cape flaring even more dramatically behind him, like it was reacting to his emotional damage.

Lena, watching from the sidelines, raised a brow and gently tapped his shoulder.

“…Are you okay? Who are you talking to?” she asked, cautiously, like she was about to hand him a pamphlet titled “So You Might Be Crazy.”

From her perspective, he had just shouted into empty space and now looked seconds away from biting someone.

“I—I can explain,” Shin said, holding up a finger.

“Can you?” she replied, deadpan.

“I can explain…part of it.”

“Which part?”

“The cape has a mind of its own and I might explode if I think too hard.”

There was a long silence.

“…Okay,” she said slowly, taking one step back.

Meanwhile, Raiden’s voice chirped back in:

“Anyway, no pressure, man. We’ll only trigger the bomb if you like, I dunno, betray us or start kissing vampires. crunch Haha. Just kidding. Or am I?”

“I’m sorry, could you just—give me a minute?” Shin asked with the politest crooked smile he could summon while barely holding back a primal scream. He shuffled off to the corner like a man trying to discreetly have a panic attack in public.

Lena blinked. She watched him go like he was a malfunctioning Roomba in a cape.

Meanwhile, Shin pressed a hand to his temple. “Okay. Let’s circle back to the fact that I have a goddamn BOMB strapped to my skull—”

“Oh ho!” Raiden’s voice chirped in, with the obnoxious glee of a wingman on too much Monster Energy. “Gettin’ your game on with a Lena variant? You sly dog.”

“What?! No!” Shin barked. “We are not—this is not—okay FOCUS! The bomb! The tiny hydrogen bomb in my head!”

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSIP.

A loud, obnoxious drink slurp blasted through the connection like Raiden was chugging an entire smoothie through a paper straw.

“Are you—” Shin’s eye twitched. “Are you DRINKING right now?!”

“Relax, man,” Raiden said, sounding like he was reclining in a hammock with zero stakes in anything. “It only goes off if me or 5539 decide you’re being naughty.”

“…‘Naughty’? Are you Santa Claus or my parole officer?!”

“Little of both.” crunch

Shin’s fists clenched.

“Oh, and uh… side note,” Raiden added way too casually. “We’ve been having some issues with the Quantum Leaper. Soooo… you might’ve been sent to the wrong universe.”

There was a pause.

“Wait. Wait wait wait—you’re telling me this isn’t even a mission?!”

“Yeah, no. Total misfire. You were supposed to land in a universe where you’re a space pirate with cool shades. My bad.”

Shin stared at the wall.

Just stared.

For a solid ten seconds.

He had hit the “existential crisis buffering” stage.

“So how am I getting out of here?” he asked, dead inside.

“I gotchu, bro,” Raiden said cheerfully. “The system just finished rebooting, so you should be blipping out in about… annnnnnd… now.”

FLASH.

Shin’s vision was consumed by blinding white light. His body jerked like his soul had just been launched out the emergency exit.

Back in Lena’s perspective…

She stared at the admittedly hot vampire man as he argued with invisible ghosts, shouted about bombs, slumped in the corner, then just… froze mid-sentence. Still standing. Motionless.

He was stuck like a loading screen at 99%.

Lena tilted her head.

“…Did he just crash?”

Then Shin toppled sideways like a mannequin with too many emotional issues.

Lena stood over him, eyes wide.

“…I am never drinking communion wine again.”

TRANSFER: UNIVERSE ???..... LOADING…DESIGNATION:????

Host:????

Mission:????

Chapter Text

The doors to the Grand Council Chamber slammed open with enough force to rattle the cosmic light fixtures.

Lena-9686 charged in like a woman possessed, coat flapping behind her like an angry flag of efficiency, clutching a glowing data tablet to her chest.

“Council emergency! High-priority breach—code Crimson Eclipse !”

Silence.

Well, almost silence.

In the middle of the chamber. Amidst sacred relics, glowing data crystals, and murals chronicling the history of the multiverse — sat a throne. Upon it, slouched sideways with her legs kicked up and a giant plush Kirby blanket half-wrapped around her, was Lady Sakura , a.k.a. CSakuraS, guardian of interdimensional balance and… way too invested in her Animal Crossing island .

Soft, peaceful music drifted through the chamber.

“Is… is that KK Slider ?” Lena blinked.

“Shhh,” Sakura whispered without looking up, furiously tapping buttons on her Nintendo Switch. “My villagers are in the middle of a fishing tournament and I refuse to lose to Pancetti again.”

Lena took one long, confused step forward.

“...Lady Sakura, the multiverse is literally in danger.”

“Mhm. Just… gotta catch this tuna. One more cast—DAMN IT, A TIRE?!” She finally looked up and froze.

Lena was glaring at her with the kind of expression that said I did not run through seven warp corridors for this.

Sakura blinked. “Oh. Right. Sorry. Uh… Council voice!”

She quickly threw the blanket off, flung the Switch under the throne (it bounced off the side with a clatter), and stood up straight. With a single overly dramatic flourish of her glowing cape, she declared:

“Lady Sakura, guardian of the Grand Multiversal Core, heeds your call!”

Lena stared. “You still have a Joy-Con in your hand.”

“…Damn it.” Sakura dropped it with a sheepish cough. “Okay, crisis time. What’s going on?”

“Bobchi-6666 has escaped containment,” Lena-9686 repeated, urgency layered thick in her voice like bad syrup on a rushed pancake.

Lady Sakura — immortal, powerful, currently wearing fuzzy socks with anime cats on them — blinked slowly from her throne, where she had just flung her Switch under her seat with all the panic of a teenager caught playing games during finals.

There was a long pause. Then she sighed deeply.

“Okay. Okay. Right. Crisis mode.”

Sakura stood up straight, shook glitter out of her hair, and clapped her hands. “First thing’s first—where’s the rest of the Council? We’re gonna need backup.”

Lena narrowed her eyes. “That was literally going to be my question.”

Sakura froze mid-sparkle. “Oh. Right. Yeah. About that…”

She coughed into her sleeve. “Um. Sir Rebel’s... unavailable.”

“Unavailable how ?” Lena asked suspiciously.

Universe 5478—-

A swarm of TIE fighters screamed across the upper atmosphere of a red-sky planet. Laser fire cracked through the air.

At the center of it all, a pristine X-wing tore through the battlefield, flipping, dodging, spiraling dramatically like someone had watched Top Gun too many times and decided physics was just a suggestion.

Inside, Sir Rebel , a.k.a. The_Lost_Rebel, had both hands on the controls and a wide grin under his aviator shades.

“This is Sir Rebel reporting from Verse 5478,” he declared into his comlink. “Currently in pursuit of joy and meaningless danger.”

He pulled a tight barrel roll and locked onto a TIE.

“Now this —” he cackled as the blasters fired and the enemy exploded in a beautiful cinematic fireball, “— this is pod racing!”

Lena rubbed her temples. “He knows that’s the wrong vehicle for that quote, right?”

Sakura shrugged. “He says it ironically. Or unironically. Honestly, I don’t think he knows anymore.”

“Fine. What about Lady Skyla?”

Sakura winced. “Also... away.”

“Away where ?”

Universe 4747—-

Lady Skyla lounged under a cabana made entirely of scratching posts. Her white robe was covered in cat hair and purring, sentient cats dozed across her lap.

A massive, royal Maine Coon sat on her shoulder like a furry epaulet.

Beside her, Lady Talia , a.k.a. Nat_Cat_113, held a champagne flute filled with tuna water, wearing a designer sunhat that a Sphinx cat was trying to steal.

Skyla adjusted her sunglasses. “Mmm. Paradise. Infinite cats. Zero crises.”

Talia gently poked her tablet with one painted nail. “Apparently Bobchi’s loose again.”

Skyla sighed without looking up. “I’ll respond when I'm in the mood, a girl needs her kitty time. Pass the laser pointer.”

A dozen kittens leapt into action at once.

Lena blinked. “Are they—are they drinking fish water?”

“Enrichment water,” Sakura corrected, not helpfully.

“I am surrounded by chaos gremlins,” Lena muttered.

Sakura smiled brightly. “You say that like it’s not our entire brand.”

Lena pointed the data pad at her. “And what about Sir Truffle ?”

Sakura actually paused for a second, then shivered. “Ah. Yeah. He’s... uh. Truffle’s in Infinite Limbo again.”

“ Again ?!”

Pitch-black void. No stars. No planets. Just swirling conceptual space.

Floating with no visible support, a man in a three-piece suit made of breadcrumbs drifted like an idea half-formed. His name was truffle | waffle , but they called him Sir Truffle, and he was either the wisest Guardian or a total accident. Possibly both.

He stared blankly into space and whispered, as though addressing the void itself:

“I have counted all the grains of sand in nonexistence. None of them taste like truffle oil. This is disappointing.”

Then, louder: “Has anyone seen my hat? Or my second self? Or the concept of boundaries?”

The void responded with silence, as it always did.

Truffle nodded. “As I thought. Perfectly symmetrical, as all things aren’t.”

Lena’s mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again.

“I... don’t even have a follow-up for that one.”

“Yeah, no one ever does,” Sakura said, shaking her head. “Once, he gave a TED Talk to a mirror and the mirror cracked itself out of confusion.”

“Okay. So,” Lena said, pacing. “We have a pod-racing cowboy, two brunching cat whisperers, and a void poet. And you were playing Animal Crossing while Bobchi—an entity with the emotional stability of a caffeinated Shakespeare villain—broke out of her metaphysical cage.”

“Technically, I was doing turnip trades,” Sakura corrected, holding up a finger.

Lena stopped walking. “If she reaches emotional resonance with any unstable Shin, you know what happens, right?”

“Oh yeah,” Sakura said, suddenly serious. “We get a multiversal-scale reboot of Twilight but with more leather jackets and moral ambiguity.”

They both paused in dread.

“…We have to stop her.”

Sakura straightened up. “Patch me into the Cosmic Uplink. I want the last location pinged where her dramatic aura spiked.”

Lena handed over the tablet.

Sakura tapped a few things. Then frowned.

“Um. It’s showing that... she’s already entered a stabilized Prime Shinverse.”

Lena froze. “Wait. Which one?”

Sakura turned the tablet to show her. The readout pulsed in big, red letters:

UNIVERSE 86

STATUS: ACTIVE SHIN-NOUZEN LINK

THREAT LEVEL: [TOO EMO TO QUANTIFY]

Sakura’s eyes narrowed.

“Oh, she’s going for him . The Real Shin. Not a variant.”

“Then we’re already behind,” Lena whispered. “We need to go. Now.”

Sakura raised her arm, summoning a swirling portal of cherry blossoms and binary code.

“Get the emergency team. Bring snacks. And if anyone has a copy of Bobchi’s last therapy transcript—”

“I thought that was sealed.”

“It was. I burned it. Emotionally. But still. Worth checking.”

They stepped into the portal, the chamber flickering behind them.

Somewhere in the infinite tangle of timelines, Bobchi-6666 smiled in dramatic slow motion.

Her eyeliner, perfectly smudged.

Sakura swiped again on her cosmic tablet. “Wait, hold on. One more ping just came in.”

“Oh god,” Lena muttered. “Don’t tell me. Another Guardian's off doing something ‘emotionally important’ like knitting reality scarves.”

“Nope,” Sakura replied with a mischievous grin. "Ro just checked in. She’s in Universe 8080.”

Lena raised an eyebrow. “8080? Isn’t that the one with the—”

Universe 8080-----

Towering over an immaculate crystal plaza, a half-built statue of Mistress Ro rose into the sky. The base was covered in mother-of-pearl mosaics. The statue’s arms extended in a triumphant “I told you so” pose.

Around it swarmed an army of Vika Moo's—fierce, maternal warriors who wore aprons over full combat armor and wielded vacuum blasters with bayonets.

One of them barked orders while baking cookies mid-air. Another zip-lined across scaffolding holding a baby in one arm and a paint roller in the other.

In the center of it all, lounging on an opalescent throne balanced atop a hydraulic lift, sat Mistress Ro—regal, radiant, and sipping passionfruit juice from a coconut carved with her own initials.

“Make the cheekbones sharper!” Ro called down to the sculptors. “I want to look like I could cut through time and the patriarchy.”

A Vika Moo looked up and shouted, “Mistress Ro, we’re getting conflicting instructions! Do you want to be depicted mid-laugh or mid-smite?”

Ro considered this.

“Both,” she said decisively. “Do the half-smirk, half-condemnation thing I practiced in the mirror for eight days.”

A younger Vika recruit ran over. “Mistress Ro, there’s a message from the Council. Something about Bobchi being loose?”

Ro waved a jeweled hand. “Tell them to breathe through their trauma and wait until I finish being immortalized.”

The Vika Moo nodded approvingly.

One whispered, “She’s right. You can’t fight chaos on an empty soul.”

Another murmured, “I was going to fight entropy today, but this statue is centering me.”

Mistress Ro turned back to the rising monument.

“If the multiverse collapses, I want the survivors to at least remember my bone structure.”

Lena stared blankly. “She’s having an army of emotional support moo's build her a statue?”

“To be fair,” Sakura said, “she’s been threatening to do it for, like, fifteen timelines.”

“She has a hydraulic throne,” Lena snapped.

“And they respect her,” Sakura replied with a sigh. “I mean, honestly, who wouldn’t?”

Lena looked skyward as if begging some higher version of herself to rescue her from this meta madness.

“We’re going to die,” she said flatly.

Sakura tilted her head. “Eventually. But not until I find my good boots. Hold on.”

“But yes. She’s in full deity mode,” Sakura said, peering at the clipboard.

Lena didn’t bother replying. Her silence said obviously.

 "Hanede is on cultural business,” Sakura offered next, flipping another tab.

Lena tilted her head. “Lady Hane does culture?”

“You have no idea."

UNIVERSE 6049

In the center of a crystal auditorium, a choir of kodkods—tiny, tuxedo-clad wildcats—stood in perfect formation on a red velvet riser. Each held a miniature music folder, paws clasped professionally.

Lady Hane stood before them, dressed in a tailored conductor’s suit and clutching a baton with all the righteous fury of a Broadway director on tech week. Her other hand, naturally, gripped an espresso cup with her initials etched in gold.

“From the fucking top!” she yelled, her voice slicing the air like a sharpened metronome. “And if one more of you flattens the word ‘Metro’—I swear on my latte, you’ll be flattened into it!”

A terrified kodkod swallowed nervously.

Then, the downbeat. Harmony exploded.

They sang an acappella rendition of Jump Up, Super Star from Super Mario Odyssey with disarming skill and overwhelming sincerity. One kodkod softly meowed the bassline. Another hit high notes that summoned actual tears from the audience of sentient folding chairs.

Sakura winced. “She hasn’t slept in five days. Honestly? She might be more dangerous than Bobchi right now.”

Lena groaned. “Okay. What about Countess Vera?”

Sakura hesitated. “She’s... working.”

UNIVERSE 1313

A gothic skyscraper hotel pulsed with blue neon runes, its gargoyle doormen chatting idly between cackles of thunder. Inside, chaos had achieved managerial efficiency.

The lobby of The Haunted Marquis was packed: werewolves checking into conference rooms, gelatinous cubes arguing over minibar charges, a banshee screaming at the concierge in Esperanto.

Countess Vera, poised in a velvet blazer and count von count slippers that tapped out Morse code for do not test me, descended the lobby’s grand staircase like a wrathful general of hospitality. She cradled a cup of ghost-infused espresso in one hand and a notepad etched with literal blood runes in the other.

“No, Gregor,” she snapped at a harried goblin, “guests are not allowed to eat the emotional support humans. Yes, I’m aware they taste like unresolved trauma—that’s why we serve them in the spa!”

A minotaur tried to wave her down. She hissed, “Tell the extended family reunion to stay on the rooftop. If I see one more uncle in the blood ballroom, I’m summoning HR. Again.”

Sakura closed the clipboard slowly, like she was sealing away a cursed text.

“So,” she said delicately, “that’s where we stand.”

Lena stared at her, deadpan. “You’re telling me the multiverse is on the brink of collapse... and our entirety of multiversal time keeping guardians are either sculpting themselves, herding tuxedo cats, running a monster Hilton, or floating in a void with philosophical yogurt?”

Sakura shrugged. “I mean... at least no one’s dead?”

Just then, the clipboard shimmered again.

“Oh right,” Sakura said brightly. “Almost forgot szilvagomboc!”

UNIVERSE 6790

A storm of blizzards and martial order.

Thousands of penguins in full military regalia stood at rigid attention on a frozen tundra beneath a giant obsidian banner. Their helmets gleamed. Their beaks did not move. But their souls—oh, their souls—marched.

Atop a platform, Leader Szi stood, her voice ringing across the icy expanse like a sermon delivered by thunder.

“They said we waddled too slow,” she declared, fists raised. “They said we were cute! They will not be calling us cute when we break the quantum blockade and bring fish to every timeline oppressed by warm-weather tyranny!”

The penguins roared. Or chirped. It was hard to tell with the brass band blaring the multiversal anthem behind her.

“This is our moment!” she cried, eyes blazing. “Let the cold rise!”

Lena blinked. “She’s forming an army.”

Sakura smiled brightly. “And honestly? It’s the most organized we’ve ever been.”

Sakura tapped the edge of her clipboard, her manicured finger glowing faintly with contained frustration. Lena watched, equal parts skeptical and resigned.

"Well," Sakura said slowly, eyes scanning down a column labeled Division B (Handle With Caution), "we do have... them."

Lena blinked. "Them?"

Sakura hesitated, as if just saying their names might trigger a lawsuit or summon a marching band. "Division B. You know, the ones we only use when everything's on fire and someone’s already pushed the self-destruct button with their face."

DIVISION B RECREATIONAL LOUNGE

A round table sat in the center of what looked like a repurposed doomsday bunker, lit by a disco ball that had no right being there. Four chairs surrounded the table, occupied by the disaster dream team themselves.

Lady Lulu, or as her chaos résumé read, Lulu the Destroyer, leaned forward with a devilish grin, slapping a card down with the fury of a small apocalypse.

"UNO!" she declared.

Sir Other David squinted. "You said that three turns ago."

"I meant it with more conviction this time," Lulu said.

"+4," said Ukakez, or Sir Kakez, as he calmly laid a bright card on the pile.

"+4," echoed Sir Other David.

Lady Haru, eyes narrowed like a hawk with a grudge, slid her card into place. "+4."

Lulu stared in betrayed disbelief. "Are you all conspiring against me? Is this because I replaced the team coffee with grenadine again?”

Haru crossed her arms. "You put grenadine in the coolant system, Lulu. The mech’s heart exploded."

Kakez nodded, completely serene. "Also, 'du du' rhymes with Lulu. Just saying."

Lulu’s eye twitched. "You leave Du Du out of this."

Just as she reached for the punishment cards, the ceiling lights blinked red. The Uno deck spontaneously burst into flames.

Sakura’s face appeared on a dusty, rarely-used emergency comm orb embedded in the wall.

"Heyyy, Division B," she said with the cautious optimism of someone defusing a bomb with a pool noodle. "Sorry to break up your ongoing card war but, uh, Bobchi-6666 has escaped."

The room went dead silent.

"She’s loose?" Sir Other David said.

Lena’s voice chimed in faintly behind Sakura: "Loose and... definitely not wearing shoes. Which somehow makes it worse."

Lady Haru stood slowly, muttering something about cursed timing and alimony.

"Right," Lulu said, cracking her knuckles. "Gear up, team. It’s go time.”

MONTAGE — THE GEARING-UP SEQUENCE

SIR OTHER DAVID’s locker hissed open with the dramatic gravitas of a JRPG. Inside sat a massive mech suit: gleaming chrome, glowing runes, and a battle-axe the size of a bus. It stepped out, and promptly hit its head on the ceiling.

"This thing was not designed for low ceilings," he muttered.

"Neither were you," Lulu snarked, hauling out her pride and joy.

DU DU, her 120mm rotary machine gun, was more cannon than firearm. Lulu kissed it on the handle.

"Du Du and Lulu. Together again. Because it rhymes, get it?" She looked around. "Why is no one laughing?"

"Because it's terrifying," muttered Kakez, who had retrieved a single oversized piece of white chalk. He drew a bird mid-flight in the air. It immediately came to life, squawked in fluent Latin, and exploded into confetti.

"Bug in the rendering," he mumbled. "It’ll work next time."

Lady Haru sighed as she reached for a glowing sheath, nestled next to a framed photo of her and Ro on their wedding day—scrawled in angry lipstick was a note: WE ARE FINE.

"This again?" she muttered, sliding out the blade.

The Lesbian Blade shimmered in rainbow energy, pulsing with centuries of Sapphic power and unspoken emotional tension.

"We’re not breaking up," Haru grumbled at no one. "We're just... communicating at the volume of a boss battle."

"We believe you," David said gently.

"I DON’T NEED YOUR VALIDATION, DAVI."

Kakez summoned a cartoonishly large chicken. "She’s definitely projecting.”

Lulu hefted Du Du. "Let’s roll."

Sakura's voice buzzed back in. "Oh good, you're all suited up. Please try not to cause additional multiversal catastrophes on your way to stop the escaped god-tier sociopath."

Lena added quietly, "Also, maybe don’t blow up another Starbucks."

Everyone turned to look at Lulu.

"That one had it coming!" she shouted. "They spelled my name with two U’s. L-U-U-U. Who does that?!"

The lights blinked ominously.

"That was three U’s," David said.

Lulu grinned. "See? You get it."

They marched toward the dimensional gate, weapons drawn, chaos barely contained.

Because Division B wasn’t just the backup team.

They were the reason the word “backup” came with a warning label.

And Bobchi-6666? She was about to meet her match... or at least, get very aggressively Uno'd in spirit.

Chapter Text

The first thing he noticed was the warmth.

Not the sterile, metallic cold he was used to waking up in after a quantum shift. Not the buzz of artificial systems calibrating in his skull. No. This was soft. Human. A cocoon of quiet breath and the low hum of a house's morning settling.

Shin stirred under covers that smelled faintly of detergent and lavender. A hand rested on his chest. Pale, delicate. Familiar.

He blinked the haze from his eyes and turned his head slowly. There she was.

Lena.

Her silver hair was a mess against the pillow, strands splayed like moonlight on snow. Her breathing was even, peaceful. Eyes shut. Her hand twitched against him slightly as if responding to a dream.

It took everything he had not to bolt.

Because this wasn’t supposed to be real. Not this version of her. Not this future.

But here he was—not in a command post, not a battlefield, not even the past he was supposed to return to. This was a quiet room. Cream-colored walls. A baby monitor on the nightstand. The smell of sleep and home and something tragically warm.

And then he heard it.

"Waaaahhhh."

A soft, warbling cry, growing louder.

Shin slowly slipped out from under Lena's arm and padded over to the small bassinet near the window. He looked down at the bundle of silver hair and tiny fists. Her cheeks were red from crying, face crumpled like a little storm cloud.

He leaned down and picked her up, one arm under her back, the other under her legs. "Ssh, shh... Daddy's here.”

The effect was immediate. The cries softened, turned into hiccupping whimpers, then faded into shallow little breaths as she curled into his chest. Shin rocked her gently, instinct guiding every move.

He hadn't even known her name until this morning. And now she felt like everything.

He held her for a long while, just listening to the soft, tiny sounds of her breathing against his chest. Eventually, she drifted back to sleep. Shin lowered her into the crib again and adjusted the blanket around her.

He knelt beside the crib, hands still inside it, stroking her cheek. He didn’t know when the tears came. But they fell silently, one after another, until the edges of his vision blurred.

And then, as if summoned by the cruelty of timing—

Bzzt.

His para-RAID crackled to life from the base of his skull.

"Heyyy pal, so there was another issue with the quantum leaper, we sent you to the wrong point in time" Raiden’s voice chirped through the static, far too upbeat for what was coming. "But it's fixed. You should be good to go.”

Shin didn’t move. Didn’t speak at first. He stared at Alice’s tiny face, peaceful and unknowing.

"No..."

"What?" Raiden said, still in that faux-cheery tone, a warning laced beneath it.

"No, I mean... Please. I just need more time."

There was a pause. The tone shifted—cheery, but no longer playful.

"Haha, no. You've got a job to do. Now do it."

"Please," Shin begged. His voice cracked like glass under pressure. "I-I just wanna hold her. For just a little longer."

The voice on the other end went quiet for a second, then came back with a syrupy menace.

"Buddy, buddy, that wasn't a request, it was a demand. Now get moving, or my big ol' sausage finger slips on the big explodey button, and blows your brains to bits."

Shin winced. "God... damn you."

Raiden sighed. And then, quieter, more human: "I don’t like this part of the job either.”

The living room was dimly lit by the soft blue haze of early morning. Lena sat on the couch, knees drawn to her chest, criss-crossed in his hoodie, a pair of grey yoga pants, and fuzzy socks. Her hair was messy, silver strands spilling over her shoulder as she stared at a half-drunk cup of tea on the coffee table.

Shin shuffled in and slumped down beside her. She turned toward him and smiled gently. "Rough night?"

He didn’t speak immediately. Just looked at her, drinking in every detail like it was the last time he might see her.

"I’m not sure how to put this into words," he said finally. "But this... all of this... is everything I ever wanted."

Lena raised an eyebrow, a soft curiosity behind it.

He continued, voice low. "I used to think peace was just... something i'd never get to have. But this—your hoodie, the way your hair gets all tangled when you sleep, the sound Alice makes when she hiccups in her sleep... this is peace."

She tilted her head. "You're being poetic today."

He smiled, barely. "Guess I got a good reason."

Lena reached for his hand and laced her fingers between his. "You always do that. Speak like you're holding something back."

"Maybe I am."

They sat in silence for a long moment.

Then Shin said, quietly, "If I had to choose one moment to freeze in time... just one... it might be this.”

The jump back in time was jarring.

One second, Shin was sitting beside the woman he loved—Lena, wearing his hoodie, the smell of her hair still clinging to his skin. The warmth of her curled up beside him, the soft weight of Alice’s breath in the next room—it all still echoed in his senses, like a dream he wasn’t ready to wake from.

The next, he was back in the cold.

Bitter wind clawed at his skin. The air here felt thinner, heavier—like reality itself knew what this moment was.

The timeline had been restored.

He stood at the precipice of his own death.

Ash-choked wind whipped across the blackened plains. Storm clouds above churned like bruises in the sky. Lightning rippled in the distance. Far ahead, the screech of the Dinosauria split the silence—metallic, mechanical, and ancient, like the cry of something that was never meant to exist.Shin’s limbs ached. His fingers twitched as the adrenaline began its slow crawl back into his blood. It was like standing in the shadow of his own funeral.

Frederica stood beside him, silent.

She didn’t ask. She didn’t need to.

She knew.

Her small hand reached out and clasped his.

Shin stared straight ahead, eyes blank, breath steady. He didn’t want to say it out loud. Saying it would make it real.

But he had to.

“I think…” he started, voice rasped and empty, “…I think I’m afraid of dying.”

Frederica flinched. Her grip on his hand tightened.

Shin’s throat bobbed with a dry swallow.“Not because it hurts,” he said. “Not because I think there’s something after. I’ve made peace with pain. With the silence. With the end.”

He turned to her, and for a moment, there was something unrecognizable in his eyes—raw, exhausted, human.

“But because it means letting go. Of everything.”

Of Lena’s laugh at sunrise.
Of Alice’s fingers curling around his thumb.
Of the mornings that smelled like coffee and laundry and safety.
Of a life he wasn’t supposed to have—but had tasted anyway.

“I was never supposed to see it,” he murmured, more to himself now than to Frederica. “That world… was never mine. But I still want to stay. I still want to go back.”

A beat.
He looked down at her. The girl who had followed him through war and ruin. The one who carried a kingdom’s worth of grief in her chest, just like he did.

“You don’t have to go,” Frederica whispered. Her voice cracked. “We can find a way. We always find a way.”

He smiled, just barely. It didn’t reach his eyes.

“No,” he said, steady now. “If I don’t go, that future breaks. Lena never meets Alice. That home, that laughter… it never becomes real. I saw what that timeline needs to survive.”

It needs him to die.

The roar came again. Louder now. The ground trembled beneath their feet.

Frederica looked like she wanted to scream. Her mouth opened. Then shut. Her eyes brimmed with something too old for someone her size.She nodded.

Silently.

Shin let go of her hand.

He didn’t look back. He couldn’t. He had to believe she would understand. That one day, Alice would too.

He climbed into the Undertaker.

The cockpit sealed shut with a hiss. Cold light flickered on around him. Fingers on the controls, breath tight in his chest.

He whispered one final thing under his breath—words no one would hear.

But they weren’t for anyone else.

They were for Lena. For Alice. For the version of him who stayed behind and got to live.

“I love you.”And then he pushed forward.

Toward the roar.

Toward the storm.

Toward the death that would make their world possible.

The fight was short.

He met the Dinosauria in the field, his high frequency blade singing through the air. He fought like a man who had something to live for. And yet, every movement brought him closer to the end.

He took out two of its legs. It roared, spinning, and its tail slammed into him, sending him flying.

He rose again.

He knew the angle. He knew the moment.

The thing lunged. Shin braced.

The leg tore through his chest.

Blood sprayed against the cracked dirt. The world slowed.

In his final moment, he pictured a crib. A pair of silver eyes. A tiny hand gripping his finger.

And Lena, smiling softly in the early light.

Then everything went white.
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FACTOR EVENT RESTORED

Alice walks ahead with slow steps. Still, those short legs can barely keep up, so she stops and waits.

"Come here. Look, sweetie." Lena's voice is soft, full of an emotion that surprises even her.

The girl rushes eagerly to her side, and those red eyes widen as she looks in awe at the view in front of them, her smile bright like the sun.

She looks ahead as well. It is still eerily grayscale, but she thinks she can barely make out a blue tint to it. The faintest of smiles tugs at her lips, and while tears do roll down her cheeks, they are not as bitter as they used to be. She hugs her daughter close to her.

"This is the sea.”

TRANSFER: UNIVERSE 9868 LOADING…DESIGNATION: spoils of war

Host: Shinei Nouzen. The greedy reaper

Mission: Kill Milizé Vladilena.