Threads of Fate: CARONACOLLEGE
A Dewprism/Threads of Fate Fanfiction
by Adelaine Vanguard

Prologue: From the Far-Reaching Tendrils of Ages Past

When shadows rose and evening fell too soon
When the soul's sharp light scarred the hidden moon
Heart's darkness smeared the bright face of the sun
As written, dark and light became as one

What then came unleashed had once marked the end
Of the ancient age, and so time did bend
Sleep locked in stasis, phantoms ever lost
To bask in winter heat and summer frost

When the mages took spears and swords instead
Strong hearts had cried when the guardians were fled
When the warrior summoned the soul of flame
The world broken had never been the same

What comes when eternal night draws near
Came before and, understanding, comes clear
Change is nigh, impossible to defeat
History time and again shall repeat

When shadows rise and evening falls too soon
Dark and light shall once more taint sun and moon
The far-reaching tendrils of ages past
Shall stretch out to grasp man again at last

-o0o-

August 5, 2031. 15:47, Eastern Standard Time.

The Hacker, the Hunter and the Weaponsmith walked cautiously towards the smoking ruins where the Aeon Industries transport had crashed. Inside information told them that the seemingly innocuous ship had in actuality been the personal transport of the wanted fugitive, Dr. Terrence Prometheus Valen. It had been the Hacker's idea to set up the ambush, and from all impressions, it looks like the operation had been a total success.

The three of them made their way towards the nose of the plane, where the cockpit was located. Belle Brie led the way, carefully stepping over charred and melted rubbish until they found what they were looking for. She pointed, indicating her companions to take opposite sides against the most important piece of rubble in the entire crash site.

With simultaneous giant heaves, Rod and Duke lifted up the remains of the blasted metal hull.

"Oh, shi—!" Belle shouted out loud, reflexively raising her hands over her eyes and cowering away from the sight. Only for an instant. Gingerly, she stepped closer to the blackened corpse, and when she was near enough, prodded it with a steel-toed boot. It was Terry Valen, alright. And he was, indisputably, undeniably, doubtlessly and irrevocably, dead.

"We'll do DNA testing, just to be sure." Belle held one hand over her mouth, doing her best not to gag. She had seen worse in her time, but… not by much. It was a horrible death, and setting aside the fact that she had caused it, it was still something she wouldn't have wished on anyone, not even him.

"Any other survivors or casualties?" Duke asked.

Rod, who was already off to the side and digging through more rubble, replied in the negative. "It looks like he was alone. And nobody, not even Mint could have survived that explosion."

Belle nodded, and she left the boys to do cleanup duty. Clearing the wreckage away later would be a simple task with the help of the Hexagon (after repairing the damage it incurred from the battle with Valen's ship, of course), and Rod and Duke could take care of a simple grave no problem. The brute didn't deserve it, but she wasn't about to stoop to his level.

She turned her gaze to the clear blue horizon, away from the smoky filth. Valen's death was a monumental event, and she pondered at what it would mean to a lot of lives. No longer would people be turned into Valen's guinea pigs. No longer would knowledge be stolen to produce secret technology that only Valen would benefit from. No longer would there be production of mechatronic circuits that had hidden workings to disrupt countless innocent people who have no idea they were being used. No longer would Klaus, Mira, Claire, and the people of Carona worry that they would again become hostages in one man's megalomanic power struggle with the world. No longer would Rue, Ruenis, Prima and the East Heaven daughters have to be afraid of when an invisible noose would tighten around their necks in an attempt to rob their psyches.

The world was free. The children were free. And finally, she can put Lucine's ghost to rest.

An unwanted sob burst out of her throat. She wiped at her eyes, and couldn't believe she was crying.

-o0o-

While Belle was off reminiscing (which they didn't begrudge one bit, for this was her victory after all), Rod and Duke put all their energies to scavenging around the crash site. Suffice to say that after a fifteen minute search, they found nothing out of the ordinary. It was a straightforward crash caused by the straightforward impact of the ship with one of the Hexagon's lethal concussion missiles.

Rod made a clean sweep of the site anyway, just in case. The only thing he found remotely peculiar were the small metal rods he found lying by the charred remains of the pilot's seat. The rods were nickel, as thick as a finger and twice as long, and could easily be batteries of some sort. But something was somewhat …off… about them, and he couldn't quite place his finger on it. He found more scattered around the corpse.

After the tasteless job of getting skin samples and putting them into the receptacle of Belle's palm PC, he scanned the metal cylinders with the custom-built instruments Belle had developed herself. The unprocessed measurements scrolled continuously up the PC's holoview. When he finished the scan, he dialed up East Heaven on Maya's private line.

"Yes, Rod?" The tiny, holographic face of the graceful princess showed up on the projector.

"It's over. He's dead; Belle wants confirmation on these DNA samples."

"Will do," Maya affirmed. "Anything else?"

"I also did a thorough scan of what's left of the cockpit. Sending the data now," he said as he clicked the transmit button. "See if there's anything you can tell me about the logos on those cylinders."

After looking at the data on some other screen, Maya shook her head negative. "I've never seen this stuff before. I'm pretty familiar with Ben's research, and I'm sure even he might have trouble placing this. Give us two weeks, give or take two months, to come up with an analysis."

The Bladestar remained thoughtful. "Maybe Atenacius wouldn't know, but I'm certain I at least have seen these rods before. I have this crazy feeling," he let out a frustrated sigh. "Maya, after you transmit the data to Wylaf and Ben, I need you to send a message to Rue. Tell him to beware, that the darkness of the heart must not resurface to smear the face of the sun."

Even on the small image scale, Maya's puzzlement was clear. "Some kind of code?"

Rod nodded. "Rue would understand it." There was no one who could better.