The room was dim, lit only by the weak, flickering glow of a desk lamp that cast erratic shadows across the walls. The air was still, save for the quiet scratch of pen on paper, an erratic rhythm broken by the occasional frustrated sigh. John sat hunched over a small desk, his shoulders tense and his gaze locked onto the chaotic mess sprawled before him. Papers littered the surface, covered in messy scribbles, diagrams, and fragmented equations.
A table dominated his latest sheet of paper, its columns labeled in uneven, jagged handwriting.
- Reverse Cursed Technique
- Domain Expansion
- Anti-Barrier Techniques
- Barrier Techniques
- Mystery Power Against Mahito
The "Anti-Barrier Techniques" column was a labyrinth of scrawled notes and crossed-out ideas. Arrows connected phrases like "energy inversion" and "impact displacement" to complex diagrams of overlapping circles and runes. Tiny question marks littered the margins, and a particularly vehement "NOT VIABLE" slashed across one corner. Equations spilled out of their designated spaces, as though even the structure of the table couldn't contain the storm of thoughts in his mind. His pen hesitated over a line reading "Reflective overlay: requires stabilizing?" before scratching it out with a sharp jerk of his wrist.
His focus wavered. He shifted in his chair, glancing toward the far corner of the room. Marian's motionless form lay on the bed, wrapped in the faint golden glow of Rapunzel's protective strands. The light shimmered softly, rhythmic and steady, as if it were breathing with her. For a moment, John's pen stilled, the sight of her cutting through the haze of his thoughts. A pang of guilt struck him. He turned back to his work.
His hand moved again, scribbling furiously. He forced himself to dive deeper into the theories, dragging his focus to the "Mystery Power Against Mahito" column. The words were sparse here—haphazard phrases and fragmented ideas with no real substance. "Unstable soul construct?" stared back at him, its vague nature mocking him. He added, "Memory imprint displacement? Shikigami? Curse?" with question marks and immediately shook his head. It was a dead end.
The pen paused, hovering over the paper, as his thoughts unraveled. He tapped the edge of the desk with his other hand, a nervous rhythm that betrayed his growing frustration. The problem wasn't the theories. It wasn't the notes or the techniques or the endless calculations that danced on the edge of reason. The problem was him.
He was avoiding it.
The realization hit him like a weight. He wasn't here to solve shit. Not tonight. His mind had twisted itself into knots, building a fortress of equations and strategies to keep him from confronting the truth. Marian. She was right there, just a few steps away. The task he couldn't bring himself to face.
John leaned back in his chair, the pen dropping from his hand onto the desk with a muted clatter. He rubbed his face, his palms dragging down over his tired eyes. "Coward," he muttered to himself, his voice barely audible in the stillness. He stared at the table in front of him, its chaotic scrawl a mirror of his internal turmoil. The anti-barrier techniques—dense, overthought, and full of dead ends—were just another excuse to delay.
His gaze shifted to the corner of the desk where the Vapus pistol sat. Snow White's parting words echoed in his mind. "You need to be prepared for anything." The cold metal gleamed faintly under the lamplight, its presence a constant reminder of the decision he would have to make. He hated it. Hated the weight of it, the purpose behind it. The doubt it placed in him.
His eyes drifted back to Marian. Her chest rose and fell in shallow, steady movements, her face serene but pale. The faint glow of Rapunzel's strands seemed brighter now, their warmth a stark contrast to the cold emptiness gnawing at his chest. For all the theories and plans scrawled across his papers, nothing could prepare him for what lay ahead. What if she woke up and wasn't herself? What if he couldn't save her?
John exhaled slowly, his hand brushing through his disheveled hair. The silence of the room pressed in around him, amplifying the sound of his uneven breaths. He leaned forward again, resting his elbows on the desk and burying his face in his hands. His mind screamed for action, for some solution that didn't exist on these pages, but his body refused to move. The weight of his avoidance was suffocating, and for the first time in a long time, John felt completely powerless again.
A knocking at the door sent a sudden jolt through him. The knock at the door was soft but insistent, breaking through the oppressive silence. John's eyes flicked toward it, his thoughts momentarily interrupted. He didn't respond immediately, but the door cracked open anyway, and Anis's familiar voice followed.
"Commander," she called out, her tone light but tinged with curiosity. "You alive in there?"
John rubbed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. "Barely," he muttered, his voice thick with fatigue.
Anis stepped in, hands on her hips as she took in the room. "Wow, gloomy much?" she quipped, raising an eyebrow. "You planning some kind of world-ending ritual in here?"
John gave a half-hearted snort. "Something like that."
She wandered closer, her gaze flicking to the papers scattered across the desk. "So… what's all this?" she asked, gesturing vaguely at the mess. "Looks like the Ark's most disorganized science fair."
"It's…" John hesitated, glancing down at his work. "A lot of things."
Anis leaned in, squinting at the dense scrawl. "Okay, first off, what's with all the arrows and circles? Are you solving a murder mystery or trying to summon something?"
John sighed, pushing the chair back slightly to give her space. "It's a mix of scientific principles and sorcery," he explained. "At most, you might understand a third of it—the parts that follow normal science. The rest is… complicated sorcery."
She picked up a page, tilting it in an attempt to make sense of the messy diagrams. "What the hell is this one? 'Cafe Barrier'? That sounds... oddly cozy for whatever madness this is."
John leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. "It's an application of a barrier technique called Kūsei Kekkai," he said, his tone shifting into a more focused rhythm. "It's a type of barrier that's almost entirely vacant inside its boundary. The edges are made of hexagonal panels, and someone skilled in barrier techniques can alter them freely."
Anis blinked, clearly lost but trying to follow. "Okay, and… why a cafe?"
"I liked the atmosphere of a cafe I used to visit," John said, a faint trace of nostalgia creeping into his voice. "I thought it might help me develop a Domain Expansion—something calm, familiar. The idea was to create a barrier that mimicked that space, a place where I could refine my control and practice visualization."
"Domain Expansion?" Anis tilted her head, her confusion deepening. "Sounds fancy, but you've officially lost me."
John tapped his pen on the desk, trying to explain without overwhelming her. "A Domain Expansion is… the pinnacle of cursed technique mastery. It's like creating your own space, where your rules and powers are absolute. But it's not just about making the space—it has to be imbued with your technique, your will. The problem wasn't the barrier itself; it was the technique. By the time I managed to make it look vaguely like a cafe, I realized I'd been focusing on the wrong thing."
Anis set the page down and crossed her arms. "So, let me get this straight. You spent all this time building a magical coffee shop… and then figured out it wasn't what you needed?"
"Pretty much," John admitted, a faint smile tugging at his lips despite himself.
She let out a low whistle. "Man, you sorcerers are weird."
John shrugged, leaning back in his chair. "You're not wrong."
Anis studied him for a moment, her usual snark softening. "You sure you're okay?"
John hesitated, his fingers brushing the edge of a notebook. "Just trying to stay busy," he said finally.
"That's one way to put it," she said, gesturing to the scattered notes. "You know none of this is going to fix whatever's eating at you, right?"
He didn't answer, his silence stretching between them. Anis let out a long breath, pushing herself off the desk. "Look, I'm not gonna pretend I know what's going on in your head, but maybe step away from the chaos for a bit. All this…"—she waved at the papers—"it's not going anywhere."
John nodded slowly, his gaze still fixed on the desk. After a moment, he looked up at her. "You want to see it?" he asked, his voice quieter now.
"See what?" she said, frowning.
"The cafe barrier," he said, standing and stretching. His joints popped audibly, and he winced. "I can show you outside. It's not much, but... it works. And I could use the distraction."
Anis blinked, caught off guard by the offer, but then she smirked. "Alright, why not? If nothing else, I could use a laugh."
John grabbed his jacket, grateful for the excuse to leave the papers behind. "You might be surprised," he said, a faint spark of energy returning to his voice. "Let's go."
Anis followed him out, shaking her head but smiling faintly. "This I've got to see."
The snow fell in gentle flakes, settling on the ground in an unbroken white blanket contrasting the dark night. Anis stood shivering, her arms crossed tightly over her chest as she shot a glare at John, who seemed entirely unaffected by the cold. He stood a few feet away, his hands clasped together as he chanted something under his breath, his voice low and rhythmic.
"Commander," Anis grumbled, her teeth chattering. "if I turn into an ice cube before you're done, I'm haunting you."
John didn't respond, his focus entirely on his hands. A faint glow began to emanate from between his fingers, and the snow around him swirled gently, as though caught in an invisible breeze. The air grew heavier, almost charged, as the faint outline of a dome began to take shape above them.
Hexagons—pale and shimmering—appeared at the top of the dome, their edges faintly glowing as they slowly tessellated downward. The pattern spread until the structure reached the ground, the structure standing proud in front of them. The dome seemed to hum faintly, its surface vibrating as the hexagons shimmered, then became translucent. A door-shaped outline formed near the front of the dome, the edges glowing softly before fading into solidity.
John straightened, letting out a quiet breath. "There," he said, his voice steady. He walked over to the door and opened it, stepping inside without another word. As soon as he crossed the threshold, he disappeared from view.
Anis blinked, her breath fogging in the cold air as she stared at the seemingly empty space inside the translucent dome. "What the hell…" She stepped closer, raising a hand to knock on one of the hexagons, but John's voice rang out before she could touch it.
"Don't hit the barrier," he called from inside, his voice muffled but clear. "It's still a bit unstable. Just get in before you freeze."
Anis huffed, but curiosity got the better of her. She reached for the door and pushed it open. Stepping inside, she was immediately enveloped in warmth. The icy chill melted away, replaced by the inviting scent of coffee and the quiet hum of soft jazz music. Her boots clicked against a polished wood floor, and as she glanced around, her breath caught.
It was a café.
The interior was cozy and warm, with walls lined with wooden shelves holding jars, mugs, and books. The light was soft, golden, and inviting, casting a gentle glow over plush armchairs and small, round tables. In one corner, a fireplace flickered, its flames dancing lazily. John was already seated in one of the chairs, a steaming cup of coffee resting on the table in front of him alongside a slice of apple pie.
"Well?" he asked, gesturing to the chair opposite him. "Not bad, right?"
Anis blinked, momentarily stunned, before shaking her head and stepping further in. "You're kidding me," she muttered, sliding into the chair across from him. "It's like walking into a whole other world."
John leaned back, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "That's the idea."
Anis glanced around again, her eyes narrowing as she took in the details. Something was off. The shelves, the books, even the flickering flames in the fireplace—they all seemed slightly blurred, as though she were looking at them through frosted glass. The edges of the room wavered faintly, refusing to come into sharp focus.
Her gaze fell on a cup of coffee sitting in front of her. It looked perfect—dark, steaming, with a delicate swirl of foam on top. She picked it up cautiously and brought it to her lips, taking a sip. For a moment, she expected the warmth to flood her senses, the bitter richness of coffee to coat her tongue.
But there was nothing. No warmth, no taste. It was like drinking air.
She frowned, setting the cup back down. "I can see it, but… I can't feel it. Or taste it."
John nodded, his expression thoughtful. "It's just a projection," he said. "The barrier creates the space, but it's not real. Not entirely. I can control some of it—the temperature, the light—but the details… they're hard to pin down. They don't hold up under close inspection."
Anis glanced around again, her eyes landing on a patron seated at another table. She hadn't noticed them before, but now she realized why. Their features were indistinct, their movements slow and mechanical, like a puppet on invisible strings. She turned back to John, her brow furrowed.
"Why a café?" she asked finally, her voice quieter now.
John shrugged, looking down at his coffee. "It was… familiar. Back then, I thought if I could recreate something calm, something I cared about, it might help me figure out how to control a Domain Expansion. But…" He gestured vaguely at the room. "Turns out the problem wasn't the space. It was me."
Anis leaned back, crossing her arms. "Well, I'll give you this much—it's impressive. Weird, but impressive."
John chuckled softly. "I'll take that."
The café was warm and quiet, the faint hum of jazz blending seamlessly with the gentle crackle of the projected fireplace. Anis sat across from John, the blurred edges of the room flickering faintly as if to remind them that none of this was real. For a while, neither of them spoke, the silence settling over them like a thick blanket.
John stared into his coffee, his hands loosely wrapped around the cup, though he didn't drink. His gaze was distant, his thoughts clearly elsewhere. Across from him, Anis leaned back in her chair, her arms crossed. She watched him for a moment, her usual smirk absent, replaced by a thoughtful frown.
Eventually, she broke the silence. "You know," she said, her tone lighter than her expression, "most Commanders would've just given up on Marian."
John looked up, his brow furrowing slightly. "I couldn't do that."
"Yeah," Anis said, her voice dipping into something more serious. "I know. That's why you're different."
He didn't respond, his gaze dropping back to the cup in his hands. Anis let out a soft sigh, tapping her fingers against the arm of her chair. "You treat us like we're human, Commander. Not tools. Not weapons. Like we actually matter." Her voice carried a faint edge of bitterness, but her words were genuine. "Do you know how rare that is?"
John glanced at her, his eyes shadowed but steady. "I don't see how anyone could treat you like anything less."
Anis snorted softly, though there wasn't much humor in it. "You'd be surprised. Most of us have had a front-row seat to how expendable we really are. Missions get impossible, Commanders get desperate, and Nikkes get sacrificed. It's a cycle." She paused, leaning forward slightly. "And you're the exception, not the rule. I lost hope, becoming content in just surviving until another day."
John didn't argue. The weight behind her words was enough.
Anis shifted, her gaze flicking to the edges of the room before settling back on him. "But Marian…" She hesitated, her fingers tightening around the edge of the table. "Seeing her come back from being a heretic? That's… something I didn't think was possible. Not in a million years."
John's grip on his cup tightened slightly. "It's not guaranteed," he said, his voice low. "We don't know what's going to happen when she wakes up."
"No, we don't," Anis said, meeting his gaze. "But the fact that she's even here, that you fought to bring her back… it's more than anyone else would've done. It gives me hope. And trust me, Commander, that's not something I've had a lot of lately."
John's expression softened, though the weight in his eyes didn't lift. "Hope," he repeated, almost to himself. "You really think this can change things?"
Anis shrugged, leaning back again. "I don't know. Maybe. Maybe not. But it's something. And for us, sometimes 'something' is all we've got." She paused, her voice growing quieter. "You make it easier to believe in that, you know? That maybe we're more than just disposable soldiers."
John didn't answer right away, the words settling over him like an uncomfortable truth. Finally, he nodded, his voice steady but subdued. "You are."
Anis gave him a small, lopsided smile, the faintest trace of her usual sarcasm creeping back in. "Careful, Commander. If you keep saying stuff like that, I might start to think you care."
John chuckled softly, though it lacked real humor. "Guess I'll just have to live with that."
They fell into silence again, the weight of the conversation hanging between them. But this time, it felt less oppressive, the warmth of the café barrier wrapping around them like a fragile shield against the cold reality outside.
After a while, John shifted in his seat, breaking the silence. "We should head back," he said, his voice low but steady. "Maintaining this space is taking a bit more concentration and energy than I really want to spend right now."
Anis raised an eyebrow. "What, you're saying this fancy magic coffee shop of yours is hard to keep running? I'm shocked."
John shot her a dry look as he stood, rolling his shoulders to loosen the tension that had crept in. "Let's just go before it collapses and you end up stuck in a snowstorm."
Anis grinned faintly, pushing herself up from her chair. "You're really selling me on this sorcery stuff, Commander."
Together, they walked toward the translucent door, the warm glow of the café fading behind them as the cool, muted light of the barrier's edges came into view. John reached for the door handle and pulled it open, stepping through without hesitation. Anis followed closely, but the moment they stepped outside, they both collided with something—or rather, someone.
"Oof!" Anis stumbled back, rubbing her nose. "What the—"
"Ah, there you are!" Rapunzel's calm, melodic voice rang out, cutting through the momentary confusion. She stood just outside the barrier, her golden hair glinting faintly in the snowlight. She looked at them with an expression that was equal parts relief and amusement. "I was coming to check on you both."
John blinked, steadying himself. "You okay, Rapunzel?" he asked, glancing at her with mild concern.
"I'm fine," she said, a small smile gracing her lips. "Though it seems I should be asking you that. You've been out here for quite some time."
Anis crossed her arms, smirking. "Commander here was giving me the grand tour of his magical coffee shop."
Rapunzel tilted her head, her smile widening slightly as she looked at John. "A café shop? How interesting. I didn't expect such a… personal touch."
John shrugged, glancing at the translucent dome behind him as the hexagons began to shimmer and fade. "It's just something I was working on. A distraction more than anything."
Rapunzel's gaze softened. "Distractions have their value, too. But you shouldn't overexert yourself, John. You'll need your strength."
He nodded, though his expression remained guarded. "I know."
Anis rolled her eyes, brushing snow off her shoulders. "Alright, can we move this back inside before I lose feeling in my legs? This whole moment is great and all, but I'd rather not freeze to death while we're at it."
Rapunzel chuckled softly, stepping aside to let them pass. "Of course. Let's go."
The warmth of the shelter was a welcome reprieve from the biting cold outside. Anis immediately veered toward her backpack, muttering something about needing a drink. She unzipped it and reached inside, pulling out a can of soda. Her hand barely made it halfway to her mouth before Neon appeared, a blur of energy.
"Anis!" Neon's voice rang out as she snatched the soda with a practiced swipe. "Thanks for the refreshment!"
"Hey!" Anis yelled, her outrage muffled by the fizzing sound of Neon popping the can open. "That's mine, you little thief!"
Neon took a long, exaggerated sip, her grin wide and unapologetic. "Ahh, nothing like a cold soda after a snowy adventure. Thanks for sharing, Anis!"
John watched the interaction with a faint smirk before turning back to Rapunzel, who stood nearby with her hands lightly clasped in front of her. She seemed thoughtful, her gaze lingering on the door they'd just come through.
"That barrier of yours," she began, her voice soft but curious. "It reminded me of something."
John raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
She nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "My hair. I've used it to create spaces like that before—not as structured or intricate, but… areas where humans and Nikkes can feel at peace. Even if only briefly."
John tilted his head, intrigued. "Your hair? How does that work?"
Rapunzel's smile widened slightly, and she ran a hand through her long, golden locks, the strands shimmering faintly under the light. "It has… unique properties. It can disrupt the sensors of Raptures in the vicinity, making it easier to sneak past them without engaging in combat. I've used it to protect the graves I dig for my sisters."
She paused, her gaze growing distant. "The graves need to be safe—undisturbed. My hair can keep Raptures away for a time, warding off desecration. In higher concentrations…" She hesitated, then looked back at him. "It can even disable Raptures outright."
John's expression turned thoughtful, his mind racing. The way she described it—it wasn't just a weapon or a tool. It was something deeper, almost like a natural extension of barrier techniques. His thoughts drifted to the files Takumi had found on Project Genesis, the experiments to fuse cursed energy with synthetic constructs. He didn't voice the connection, but the possibility gnawed at the edges of his mind.
As he stared at Rapunzel, his thoughts spiraling into theories and questions, she shifted under his gaze, her cheeks suddenly pink. She clasped her hands tighter, looking away with a nervous laugh. "C-commander! If you keep looking at me like that, I might think you have… impure intentions!"
John blinked, her words pulling him abruptly out of his thoughts. "What?" His brow furrowed, his confusion genuine. "No, I wasn't—"
Rapunzel pressed a hand to her cheek, her blush deepening as her imagination clearly took hold. "A-And here I thought you were such a stoic and proper Commander. To think you'd be so forward…"
"I wasn't—I'm not—" John stammered, his ears burning as he ran a hand through his hair. "I was just thinking about… Never mind." He shook his head, deciding it wasn't worth explaining.
Rapunzel peeked at him through her fingers, clearly suppressing a mischievous smile. "I-I forgive you, of course. But you should consider saying a prayer for those impure thoughts, Commander."
John groaned, rubbing his temples
As Anis disappeared down the corridor, muttering something about soda thieves and freezing to death, the room grew quiet once more. The warmth of the shelter felt almost stifling after the crisp cold outside. John leaned against the wall, his thoughts pulling him back toward the chaos he had temporarily left behind.
The floor creaked softly, and Rapunzel stepped next to him. She glanced at the room Marian was in, lying still in the cocoon of her shimmering hair, before turning her attention to John.
"You carry a heavy burden, Commander," she began, her voice soft and steady, yet carrying a depth that caught him off guard. "But you are not alone."
John looked at her, surprised for a moment, before offering a tired smile. "Anis just said something similar," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "You both have more faith in me than I do."
Rapunzel stepped closer, her golden strands shimmering faintly as they caught the light. "It's not blind faith, John. It's belief in what we see."
Her words hung in the air, and John raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "What do you see?"
She studied him for a moment, her expression warm yet thoughtful. "You remind me of someone," she said finally, her voice tinged with nostalgia. "Someone who once stood where you stand now. The man who led us during the First Rapture Invasion. The first Commander of the Goddess Squad."
John straightened slightly, the weight of her words settling over him. "The Legendary Commander?" he asked, his voice quieter now.
Rapunzel nodded, her gaze growing distant as memories surfaced. "He was a beacon of hope," she said, her voice carrying a reverent quality. "A man who saw us not as tools, not as weapons, but as people. When no one else believed in us, he did. He treated us as equals, as human. Just as you do."
Her words struck something deep within John, a mixture of humility and unease. "I'm not sure I deserve that comparison. From what I read that man was a true hero, one who saved the lives of many" he admitted, his voice low. "I'm just doing what I can."
"That's what makes the resemblance all the more striking," Rapunzel replied, her smile softening. "He wasn't perfect either, but he gave everything he had to protect us, to fight for a future we couldn't imagine for ourselves. When I look at you, I see echoes of him—his determination, his compassion. And it gives me hope, John. Not just for me or Marian, but for all of my sisters."
Her gaze flickered away towards the room Marian was in, and her voice trembled slightly as she continued. "I've seen what corruption does to us. The horrors it brings. It twists us into something unrecognizable, strips away everything we are until there's nothing left but pain and destruction." She paused, her golden strands shifting slightly as if responding to her emotions. "If Marian is freed… it will be more than just redemption. It will be proof. Proof that even in the darkest times, we can be saved."
John followed her gaze to the Marian room. The weight of the task before him pressed harder against his chest, but there was something in Rapunzel's words—something in her quiet conviction—that steadied him.
"You really think that's possible?" he asked, his voice quieter now, almost uncertain.
Rapunzel turned back to him, her eyes meeting his with unwavering resolve. "I have to believe it is. Not just for her, but for all of us. If we lose hope, then what are we fighting for?"
John exhaled slowly, her words sinking deep into the cracks of his doubt. For a moment, the room was silent, save for the faint hum of the shelter's heater and the soft rhythm of their breathing. Finally, John nodded, the weight on his shoulders feeling just a little lighter.
"Thank you, Rapunzel," he said, his voice steady. "I needed that."
She smiled, her golden strands catching the light like threads of sunlight. "Any time, Commander. Remember, you are not alone in this."
The next morning came quickly, and John found himself once again standing besides Marian. The room felt suffocatingly still, every sound muted except for the soft hum of Rapunzel's golden strands shimmering as they began to retract. John stood at Marian's side, his breath heavy and uneven. The faint glow of Rapunzel's hair cast ethereal shadows across the walls, making the room feel otherworldly. The air was thick with tension, and the weight of what was about to happen pressed down on everyone present.
Behind him, the others were gathered in a loose semi-circle, their postures tense and expressions grave. Anis leaned against the wall, her arms crossed tightly as though bracing herself. Neon stood next to her, shifting nervously from foot to foot, her hands wringing the hem of her jacket. Even Scarlet, who leaned casually on the edge of a table, seemed subdued, her gaze fixed on the figure lying on the bed.
Rapi stood closest to John, her stoic mask firmly in place, but her eyes betrayed a deep unease. Snow White and Rapunzel stood near the head of the bed, their presence calm yet solemn. Snow White's hand rested lightly on her rifle, and Scarlet's gaze flickered toward her from time to time, as if silently acknowledging the precaution.
"Are you ready?" Rapunzel's voice broke the silence, soft but resolute. Her golden strands shimmered as they continued to coil back into her hands, inch by inch.
John didn't respond immediately. His hand drifted to the pistol at his side—the one Snow White had given him. The cold metal pressed into his palm, grounding him in its unyielding reality. He could feel the weight of it, not just the physical heft, but the symbolic burden it carried. The thought of using it made his stomach churn, but he couldn't afford to falter.
He exhaled slowly, his shoulders squaring as he nodded. "As ready as I'll ever be."
He turned to face the others, his eyes scanning their faces. "If something goes wrong…" His voice faltered for a moment, but he forced himself to continue. "If she turns back into Modernia, I need you all to be ready. I can't do this alone."
Anis pushed off the wall, her arms still crossed but her voice steady. "You've got us, Commander. You always do. But let's hope it doesn't come to that."
Neon nodded, her usual cheer replaced by a subdued intensity. "Yeah. We're ready. Let's bring her back."
Rapi stepped closer, her eyes locking onto his. "We are behind you Commander, every step of the way."
Snow White gave a faint nod, her hand tightening on her rifle. "Whatever happens, we will face it together."
Rapunzel moved to the side of the bed, her hair beginning to shimmer brighter as it retracted further. The strands coiled like golden threads being woven back into her hands, revealing Marian's pale, motionless form beneath. Her stillness was haunting, her skin ashen against the soft glow of the room.
The tension in the room ratcheted higher with every second. John's fingers tightened around the pistol's grip, his knuckles whitening as the weapon rested at his side. His breathing grew shallower, his chest rising and falling as if the act itself required conscious effort.
As the last strand of Rapunzel's hair withdrew, the glow faded. For a long, agonizing moment, nothing happened. The silence stretched, broken only by the sound of their collective breathing.
Then, Marian's eyelids fluttered.
It was subtle at first, a faint, almost imperceptible movement. Her fingers twitched slightly, the barest indication of life returning to her body. John's heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing in his ears. He raised the pistol slightly, the weight of his resolve settling over him.
Her eyes opened.
They were glassy and unfocused, her gaze wandering as though searching for something she couldn't quite grasp. Her lips parted, a shallow breath escaping. John's entire body tensed, his finger brushing the pistol's trigger guard.
And then her eyes locked onto his.
"Commander?" Her voice was soft, weak, and uncertain, but it was unmistakably her. The single word pierced through the suffocating tension like a ray of sunlight breaking through storm clouds.
John exhaled sharply, lowering the pistol as relief washed over him in a tidal wave. His shoulders sagged, and his grip on the weapon slackened. "Marian," he said, his voice trembling slightly. "It's me. You're safe now."
Confusion flickered across her face, but recognition soon followed. Her eyes filled with tears, and her body trembled as soft sobs began to wrack her frame. "Commander…" Her voice broke, the tears falling freely now. "I'm so sorry…"
John stepped closer. "Marian, it's okay. You're back now."
She shook her head, her sobs growing louder. "No… it was horrible." Her hands clutched at the blanket covering her, her knuckles white as she spoke. "I could see everything I was doing. Everything I… everything it made me do. But I couldn't stop it. I couldn't fight it." Her voice cracked, the weight of her trauma spilling out in broken words. "It wasn't me, but it was me. I was trapped—twisted. And I hurt so many…"
John stepped closer, his heart aching at the raw anguish in her voice. He knelt beside her bed, his hands trembling slightly as he reached out. Gently, he placed his arms around her, pulling her into a careful embrace. Her sobs spilled into his shoulder, her tears soaking into the fabric of his jacket.
"It's okay," he whispered, his voice soft but firm. "It's over now. You're safe, Marian. You're alright."
For a moment, her sobs stuttered, her grip on the blanket loosening as she clung to him instead. Her hands fisted in his jacket, holding on as though he were the only solid thing in a world still spinning out of control. "I thought I'd never come back," she whispered, her voice so quiet it was almost swallowed by the room. "I thought I'd be trapped in that… nightmare forever."
John tightened his hold, his chin resting lightly on the crown of her head. "You came back," he said, his voice steady. "That's all that matters now. You're here, and you're not alone."
Behind them, the room was silent save for the soft sound of Marian's crying. The others stood quietly, their earlier tension shifting into something heavier but less urgent. Rapi's hands rested at her sides, her fingers curling slightly as she watched, her face betraying a flicker of empathy. Anis leaned against the wall, her usual sharp remarks replaced by a rare, somber stillness. Neon sniffled softly, brushing at her eyes underneath her glasses with the back of her hand, while Snow White and Scarlet exchanged quiet glances, their expressions grave but calm.
Rapunzel stepped forward and embraced Marian as well, "You've been through so much," she said gently. "But you endured. That strength brought you back."
Marian's sobs slowed, though her tears still fell. She pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at John, her face streaked with emotion. "I hurt so many people," she said, her voice trembling. "How can I… how can I ever make up for that?"
John met her gaze, his own eyes heavy with the weight of what he had to say. "You weren't in control," he said carefully. "What happened wasn't your fault, Marian. What matters now is what you do going forward. You have a chance to heal. To make things right."
She nodded slowly, her tears still falling, but her breathing began to even out. "Thank you, Commander," she whispered. "For not giving up on me."
The air in the room had shifted. Though the tension from earlier lingered in faint echoes, there was a renewed sense of purpose among them. Marian rested, her fragile smile a sign of progress, though the tear-streaked evidence of her trauma remained. The group began to move with quiet efficiency, readying themselves for what came next.
John stood near the center of the room, Rapi at his side, as the members of the Pioneer Squad gathered close. Snow White and Rapunzel exchanged a quiet look, while Scarlet leaned against the doorway with.
John cleared his throat, drawing their attention. "I can't thank you enough," he began, his voice steady but tinged with sincerity. "For everything you've done for Marian. For us. Without you, we wouldn't have made it this far."
Rapunzel offered a warm smile, her golden strands glinting faintly as they shifted around her. "There's no need to thank us, Commander. This is what we're here for—to protect and support our sisters. And you've done the same. You're a rare kind of leader."
Snow White nodded, her expression calm but resolute. "We're glad we could help. But the road ahead won't be easy, for Marian or for you."
John inclined his head in agreement. "We'll take it one step at a time. For now, we need to head back to the Ark. There's a lot to sort out, and Marian needs time to heal."
Rapi stepped forward, her gaze briefly meeting Rapunzel's and Snow White's. "Thank you," she said, her voice firm but carrying a hint of vulnerability. "For what you told me earlier. About my friend and mentor… . It means more than I can say."
Rapunzel reached out, her hand brushing Rapi's arm in a gentle gesture of support. "Her spirit lives on in you, Rapi. She would be proud of you. Never forget that."
Snow White's sharp gaze softened slightly, her voice quieter now. "If you ever need help, don't hesitate to find us."
John glanced between the Pioneer Squad and the rest of his team, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "You're always welcome at the outpost. If you need a place to rest or regroup, consider it open to you."
Scarlet smirked faintly from her position by the door. "Thy hospitality is noted, Commander. Perhaps we shall take thee up on it."
John nodded before turning to Snow White. His hand went to his holster, unstrapping the Vapus loaded pistol and holding it out to her. "Here," he said, his tone serious. "I appreciate you trusting me with this, but it's yours."
Snow White looked at the weapon for a moment before folding her arms across her chest. "Keep it," she said, her voice as sharp as ever. "I have no doubt you'll make better use of it than I would. And something tells me you'll need it."
John hesitated, his brow furrowing slightly, but he relented, securing the pistol back in its holster. "Alright," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "Thank you."
The room fell silent for a moment, the gravity of their parting hanging in the air. Rapunzel stepped forward, her gaze lingering on Marian. "Take care of her," she said softly, her golden hair trailing behind her like threads of sunlight. "And take care of yourselves."
John nodded. "We will. And the same goes for you."
With that, the Counters and the Pioneers exchanged final nods. As John and his team turned to leave, the weight of the journey ahead loomed large, but so did the faint, flickering light of hope.