2025 is here, and so is the next chapter of our ongoing adventure.
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Note at the end, let's begin.
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Honkai Star Rail is property of Hoyoverse. I own nothing.
"dialogue"
"call"
system
:text:
"altered"
"mental conversation"
"flashback"
SOUND EFFECT
/dream/
Caelus wasn't sure what to expect when Lowen led him to his village, but the narrow crevice they approached wasn't anywhere close to what he'd envisioned. The jagged crack in the rockface seemed more like a wound carved into the earth than an entrance.
It was a far cry from the sprawling streets of Yakarich, and for one tense moment, the thought flickered through Caelus's mind that Lowen might indeed be leading him into a trap. The shadows clinging to the rock walls didn't help his unease either.
He shook off the suspicion as quickly as it came.
It could be like the Underworld, he reasoned, though the thought was only somewhat reassuring. Fragmentum abominations were bad enough; he didn't need the added burden of fighting humans on top of it.
Even so, he kept his eyes fixed on Lowen's back, every muscle taut, ready for a flicker of betrayal.
"It's just through here," Lowen called over his shoulder, his voice carrying an awkward cheerfulness that didn't quite fit the oppressive stillness of the pass. He turned briefly, gesturing at the crevice. "Might be a bit of a squeeze, sorry about that."
Caelus slowed to a stop, tilting his head as his gaze swept the walls of the gorge. "This is the only way in…?" His voice held a note of skepticism, undercut by a furrowed brow.
Lowen hesitated, his mouth twitching in a nervous half-smile. "Well... not exactly," he admitted, scratching the back of his neck. His boots scraped against loose gravel as he shifted his weight. "Let's just say I'm trying to slip back in without, uh, drawing too much attention."
The words hit Caelus like a bucket of cold water. He froze mid-step, fixing Lowen with a sharp, unblinking stare. "Why would you need to avoid attention? You weren't breaking any rules being out there, right?"
"…"
"Right?" Caelus pressed, his tone growing harsher.
"Uh… maybe?"
"MAYBE...?!"
"Shhh! Keep your voice down!" Lowen spun around, his hands raised in a frantic gesture. "Look, it's not a big deal, alright? I can handle myself."
Caelus crossed his arms, unimpressed. His golden gaze bore into Lowen like sunlight through frost. "This coming from the one who wandered into right into a group of shadewalkers."
Lowen huffed, waving a hand dismissively as he turned back to the crevice. "Details, details. They got the drop on us. It happens."
"No," Caelus corrected coldly, his steps deliberate as he followed Lowen. "They got the drop on you. Don't get that twisted."
Lowen winced but didn't argue, opting instead to mumble something unintelligible under his breath. With a quick glance over his shoulder, he beckoned Caelus forward. "Anyway, we're almost there. Come on."
Reluctantly, Caelus stepped into the shadowed crevice, the narrow walls pressing in on either side. As he moved, he kept his senses sharp, ready to summon his bat at any given moment.
Lowen was still ahead, his movements too jittery to inspire any confidence.
The oppressive silence of the pass gnawed at Caelus' nerves, but for now, all he could do was follow—and keep a close watch on the man leading the way.
After several minutes of navigating the narrow crevice, the passage opened into a spacious cavern bathed in the warm glow of torchlight. The flames danced along the rough-hewn walls, their flickering light casting erratic shadows that seemed to slither and twist as the two men stepped forward.
Lowen glanced around and grinned, a touch too eagerly. "Great! Coast is clear looks like. Seems my luck is finally turning 'round," he said with a wide, toothy grin, tossing a smug glance back at Caelus.
"You sure 'bout that?"
The voice was cold, cutting through the still air like a blade.
Caelus whirled, his bat nearly appearing in his hands before he caught himself. His golden eyes locked onto a figure leaning casually against the wall, cloaked in the same shadowy air that seemed to cling to the cavern itself.
"Agh," Lowen groaned, shoulders slumping. "Why did it have to be you, Uleg?"
"Why not me?" Uleg pushed off the wall with an exaggerated stretch, the leather of his gloves creaking as he flexed his fingers. "Who else has the patience to stick around for you to come skulking back from one of your little field trips?" His chuckle was low and grating, his gaze flicking to Caelus like a predator sizing up newfound prey. "And who's this? Haven't seen your face around here, kid."
The man's armor marked him as a Silvermane Guardsman, though it had clearly seen better days. The left and right shoulder pauldrons were conspicuously absent, as was one of his shin guards, leaving only a patchwork of scuffed plating. His hair was a slicked-back gray, matching the ashen sky of Jarilo-VI, and his eyes—jet black and sharp as broken glass—were fixed on them.
Caelus also didn't miss the subtle shift of Uleg's hand, now resting just a little too comfortably near the rifle slung at his side.
Before the tension could boil over, Lowen stepped in, waving his hands in a placating gesture. "Whoa, whoa, ease off, Uleg! This guy helped me clear out that old camp down the ridgeline—made it look easy, too!"
Uleg's expression didn't change. He tilted his head slightly, his dark eyes narrowing as he looked straight at Caelus. "...so what really happened?"
"He wandered right into the camp and practically threw himself into a cadre of shadewalkers," Caelus answered bluntly, crossing his arms. "I'm the reason he's still breathing."
Lowen groaned loudly, throwing his head back in protest. "That's not—"
Uleg cut him off with a bark of laughter, the sound echoing through the cavern. His shoulders relaxed, and his hand moved away from his rifle, though his eyes remained sharp. "Yeah, that tracks. This guy here talks a big game, but I doubt he'd hurt so much as a baby ursa. Hell, he'd probably try to nurse it back to health if he did!"
"I'm right here!" Lowen exclaimed, throwing his arms up in exasperation.
"That you are," Uleg placated, his smirk widening as he slapped Lowen on the shoulder. "Still just as hopeless, too. So, you're back mighty early this time. Must have something to do with that new friend of yours."
"My phone got damaged in a fight," Caelus cut in before Lowen could explain, his tone calm but firm. "This guy said someone named Gregor here might be able to fix it."
"Did he now…?" Uleg scratched his chin thoughtfully, his glove rasping against his stubble. "Aye, the old coot can do it - if you can stomach him for more than five seconds, that is. He's a right bastard; doesn't work cheap either."
"Let me worry about that," Caelus said flatly, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Uleg shrugged, raising his hands as if to ward off responsibility. "Suit yourself, kid. Just don't stir up any trouble. We've got enough to deal with without adding you to the mix."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
Satisfied—or at least willing to pretend he was—Uleg hefted his rifle in one hand and turned towards the deeper shadows of the cavern. "Alright then, enough freezing our asses off here. Let's get a move on. Try not to disappear on the way back this time, Lowen – you know what I mean."
Lowen muttered something incoherent, but Caelus didn't linger on it. Instead, he kept his eyes forward, his senses tuned to every step Uleg took, every flicker of movement in the torchlight. The cave stretched ahead like a gaping maw, and though Uleg's stance had eased, Caelus wasn't about to let his guard down just yet
The passage widened as they walked, the air growing warmer with each step. Caelus felt the lingering chill in his bones begin to thaw, and for a fleeting moment, relief washed over him. The deep warmth just beyond the tunnel's end promised an escape from the relentless cold he'd been subjected to for the last few weeks...
He shoved the thought aside, reminding himself that this was no place to let his guard down. Not after the earlier mistake of doing so...
"So," Uleg began, his gruff voice breaking the silence, "did you find anything worth the trouble this time?"
The question pulled Caelus from his grim musings. He glanced ahead to see Lowen, who let out a sigh and scratched the back of his head, his gait slowing as if the weight of the question physically bore down on him.
"No," Lowen admitted, his voice tinged with frustration. "And that camp our new friend found me in? That was the last spot worth checking. Seems the Guard were too thorough when they pulled out."
"That's what everyone's been trying to tell ya, but you just shut'em out like usual," Uleg stated with a huff. "I know you want to help out, but it's time to face facts. Whatever worthwhile supplies the Guard had when the Corrosion seeped in was packed up when they ran. And risking yourself out there like you do for the old man is su-!"
"You don't know that!" Lowen shot back, his voice flaring with raw defiance. He stopped abruptly, spinning on his heel to face Uleg.
"You don't know that!" Lowen shot back hotly, taking Caelus by surprise. "How can you when you're assigned to guard duty all day! Everyone can accept the inevitable all they want but I won't, not while there's still a chance!"
The cavern seemed to hold its breath, the echoes of Lowen's outburst bouncing back like ghosts of his frustration.
Caelus watched the exchange, piecing together the tension, though much of it was still a mystery. He chose his words carefully. "Is someone sick?"
Uleg shot him a look—a warning glance sharp enough to cut. But Lowen ignored the older man, his expression softening as if finally unburdening himself.
"It's the head of our village, we call him the Elder," Lowen said, his voice quieter now but no less intense. He's fallen ill lately and the only thing keeping him from keeling over is a type of medicine we found a while back. Problem is, it's not exactly something we can find lying around."
"How so?" Caelus asked, his curiosity piqued despite himself.
"Because the means to make it was lost during the Freeze," Uleg answered begrudgingly, crossing his arms. His tone was flat, but his words carried the weight of something far heavier. "Lot of things were but the drugs keeping the old man ticking is something we sorely need right now. This guy over here thinks there's some stash of it buried somewhere in a snowdrift out there," Uleg said, gesturing to Lowen who scowled.
"Don't act like we haven't found crazier stuff out there, Uleg,'" Lowen snapped, his jaw tight. "It's just a matter of looking in the right places!"
"Waste of time is all it is, and you know it, boy."
Lowen clenched his fists, his eyes blazing with stubborn determination. It was clear he had more to say, but before the brewing argument could ignite again, Caelus stepped in.
"Is there anything else that can be done for him?" Caelus asked, his tone calm but firm enough to cut through the tension.
Uleg snorted, his expression turning grim. "Boyo here might think otherwise, but the old man's already at the edge of his years. Cold as it is to say—best we be ready for someone else to step up when the time comes." And then, the man's countenance turned frigid as he fixed Caelus with a warning glare. "But that's not your concern, stranger. You'll be on your way once your business is done right?"
The words were a lifeline. They allowed Caelus to shove aside the small, persistent voice urging him to help. "That's right," he said, his voice steady. "I just want my phone fixed. You won't have to worry about me after that."
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Lowen's face falling, his disappointment plain as day. But Uleg, unsurprisingly, looked pleased, offering Caelus a curt nod of approval.
"Smart," Uleg remarked gruffly, turning on his heel. "Come on, then. We're nearly there."
Caelus followed silently, though the sound of Lowen's uneven footsteps behind him betrayed the man's lingering frustration.
With the exchange behind them, Caelus's eyes lingered on Uleg's armor. But it wasn't just its condition that gnawed at Caelus's curiosity—it was the armor itself. Try as he might, he couldn't stifle the question forming in his mind.
"Were you part of the Guard at some point?" he ventured cautiously, his voice cutting through the muffled sounds of their boots against the cavern floor.
Uleg stiffened ever so slightly, his broad shoulders rising with a barely perceptible tension. "What's it to you…?" he growled, his tone sharp as flint.
Caelus hesitated but pressed on. "I've just never seen anyone wearing that outside of the Guard. Not even vagrants."
Uleg let out a dry, humorless laugh, the sound echoing faintly against the walls. "Maybe I killed some sorry sap and took it," he said with a grunt. "Wasn't like he was going to need it anymore."
The edge in his voice made Caelus pause, but his curiosity pushed him further. "...Or you deserted—"
He didn't get to finish the thought.
In the blink of an eye, Uleg's rifle was leveled at Caelus's face, the cold barrel pointed squarely between his eyes. Uleg's glare was ice and fire, daggers of fury cutting through the space between them.
"Watch what you say around me, boy," Uleg hissed, his voice low and venomous. "You could end up with an extra nose hole for spouting ignorant crap like that."
"ULEG, WAIT!" Lowen's voice rang out, his shock palpable as he stepped forward, his hands half-raised as if to defuse the situation.
Caelus swallowed hard, his pulse pounding in his ears. "I was merely thinking out loud," he said, his voice tight but steady despite the weapon aimed at him. "I didn't mean to offend. I promise."
For a moment, the tension hung heavy in the air, the silence pressing down like a weight. Uleg's finger hovered near the trigger, his glare never wavering. Then, with a sharp click, he lowered the rifle, his expression twisting into a scowl.
"Tch." The sound was dismissive, but his eyes lingered on Caelus for a moment longer, a silent warning etched into his features. Without another word, he turned and strode ahead, his steps heavy with irritation.
Caelus let out a slow breath he hadn't realized he was holding, his shoulders sagging slightly.
"You alright there?" Lowen asked, his hand finding Caelus's shoulder. The concern in his voice was genuine, his usual cheerfulness muted.
Caelus nodded, though his heart was still racing. "I'm fine."
Lowen chuckled nervously. "Sheesh, I really thought he'd shoot you for a second there."
"You and me both. Is the topic of the Guard taboo around him or something?"
"I wouldn't know," Lowen admitted, scratching the back of his head. "Nobody really knows much about Uleg from before he came here. The Elder's the only one who seems to have any sway over him when he gets like that. The fact that you managed to get him to back down is… honestly impressive."
"If you say so," Caelus muttered, his gaze flicking toward Uleg's retreating figure.
"OI! Keep up, you punks!" Uleg's voice barked from farther down the tunnel, his gruff tone reverberating like a whip crack. "I'm not paid to hold your hand if you fall behind!"
Lowen shot Caelus a sheepish grin. "Guess we better move." Without waiting for a reply, he hurried after Uleg, his lanky frame disappearing into the shadows.
Caelus lingered for a moment longer, his eyes narrowing as he considered the exchange. Then, with a resigned sigh, he followed, jotting a mental note not to press the man again lest become the definition of "holey".
It wasn't long before Uleg led them to a lift, the metal platform pocked with dents and streaked with muddy footprints from countless comings and goings. Caelus stepped onto it, his boots scuffing against the grime, and found himself momentarily struck by the simple ingenuity of it. He shouldn't have been surprised to find something like this on Belobog, a place brimming with rugged resourcefulness, but it was the first lift he'd seen since landing on the icy world.
In Yakarich, lifts had no place—the entire village had been sprawled on level ground. But this? This was something else entirely. A faint hum crackled through the air as Uleg slapped his meaty hand against a holographic panel. The screen flickered to life, a soft blue glow illuminating his worn gloves. With a mechanical jolt, the platform began to rise.
It was slow at first, the lift wobbling uneasily as though testing its own strength before picking up speed. Caelus instinctively grabbed the railing, his eyes flicking between the other two and the worn gears lifting the platform up.
"Was this place a mine at some point?" he asked, his voice cutting through the awkward silence.
Uleg grunted. "Think I'm some tour guide, kid? How should I know?" Uleg shrugged, his broad shoulders rippling beneath the battered remnants of his armor.
"Well, it could've been, but talk varies depending on who you ask," Lowen chimed in, leaning casually against the railing, his voice tinged with a touch of wonder. "Some folks say it was that. Others think it was something bigger, built long before the Freeze even. Whatever it used to be, it's home now."
Ahead, a faint light appeared above them, growing brighter as the lift slowed to a crawl. The platform creaked and groaned before sliding into place at its station. Caelus stepped forward, his boots meeting smooth stone.
The sight before him was enough to stop him in his tracks.
The settlement stretched out like a hidden jewel, its streets bustling with life beneath a cavernous ceiling. Torches and makeshift lamps illuminated the area, their golden glow reflecting off the stone walls in a dance of warm light. People moved about with purpose, their figures bundled in patched coats, the hum of voices mingling with the distant sound of machinery. For the first time in weeks—no, months—Caelus felt an odd sense of familiarity creeping into his chest.
"It's just like Boulder Town," he murmured, spellbound.
Lowen's hand clapped down on his shoulder, jarring him from his reverie. "Quite a sight, isn't it?" he said, grinning broadly. "Sutre, we're not as easy to get to as other settlements, but that's kind of the point. We're safer here, tucked away like this."
Caelus turned to the two locals, dragging his gaze away from the bustling scene. "What about the Corrosion?" he asked, frowning slightly. "Even as deep as we are, it can't be completely safe. There must be some areas too dangerous for anyone to go near."
"Huh, you're smarter than you look," Uleg sneered, folding his arms as he leaned slightly against the railing. "Yeah, there's a few places even we don't touch. It's rare round here, but they exist." His tone shifted, growing more pointed. "Fortunately, they're not areas we need to survive. Not for most of us, anyway. The old man would tell you otherwise, though."
Lowen shot Uleg a glance, his lips pressing into a thin line, but said nothing.
"Alright," Uleg continued, straightening up, "time for you to get moving. Boy,"—he jabbed a finger at Lowen—"show this stranger where he needs to go so he can get out of our hair. We've already got too many mouths to feed without adding another to the line."
His dark eyes flicked to Caelus, narrowing briefly as if to drive the point home. With a final grunt, he turned and strode away, his heavy boots echoing against the stone.
Caelus sighed, watching Uleg disappear into the crowd before glancing back at Lowen. The scavenger offered him a sheepish grin, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Well, that could've gone worse," Lowen said with a nervous chuckle.
"Not my biggest fan is he?" Caelus replied dryly, stepping off the platform. "Can't say I blame him after earlier though."
"He's like that with all newcomers, even with me when I first got here. If you stick around, he'll warm up to ya."
That got Caelus's attention, sending a surprised look back at the lanky villager. "You're not from here either?"
Lowen nodded, his grin losing some of its strength. "Yup, I was just as much a stranger to this place as you are now once upon a time. Took a while for everyone to get used to me, but now I'm like family. Family..." Lowen trailed off, his grin vanishing completely this time as he stared at something only he could see.
As much as Caelus didn't want to intrude, he wasn't here to stick around. "So, where's this Gregor?" That snapped Lowen back to reality, offering his usual dopey grin. "Oh he's not far, and rarely leaves his workshop. Come on, I'll show ya."
Caelus cast one last look at the settlement stretching out before him, the warmth and light stirring something in his chest that he wasn't ready to name, before heading off after Lowen.
The settlement stretched out before them as they walked, its layout sprawling yet subdued, and try as he might, Caelus couldn't stop the comparisons from forming in his mind.
Bergstadt, Lowen had called it. A fitting name, though it felt more like a shadow of something it had once been.
The place was vast but oddly lifeless, its quiet streets lined with buildings that leaned into the rocky walls like tired travelers seeking rest. The architecture bore faint echoes of Boulder Town's grit and ingenuity, but where the hub of the Underworld thrummed with the stubborn determination of its people, Bergstadt seemed muted, as though the life had been wrung out of it long ago.
Caelus's boots echoed faintly on the stone paths, the sound too loud in the heavy silence.
Boulder Town had been full of noise—laughter of children, shouts from stall keeps, the clanging of tools, and the low hum of the geothermal plant off in the distance.
Here, the air felt thick with unspoken tension, an undercurrent that pressed against him like a physical weight.
He caught sight of a few villagers as they passed: hunched figures in patched coats, their faces shadowed and pale. They glanced at him with wary eyes, their expressions unreadable but sharp enough to make him feel like an outsider.
It was different in Yakarich, where warmth had seeped into the cold despite the initial mistrust of its people. There, he had been ostracized but not unwelcome. Over time, the village had made a place for him, an unspoken invitation to belong.
The people of Berstadt didn't seem keen on even entertaining the idea.
"There aren't many kids," Caelus murmured, more to himself than Lowen. It felt wrong, unnatural. Boulder Town had been filled with children, their laughter piercing through even the bleakest days. Here, their absence was palpable, a void that deepened his unease.
Lowen glanced at him but didn't comment. Perhaps he'd noticed the same thing, or perhaps he was simply too used to it to care anymore.
The streets felt narrower the farther they walked, though the structures around them stayed the same. They even passed a group of villagers huddled close near a makeshift stove, their voices low and cautious. Caelus caught snippets of conversation but couldn't piece them together, their tone carrying more weight than their words.
"Not exactly a lively place is it," he said, trying to keep his voice light, though the observation was anything but.
Lowen shrugged, his grin faltering briefly before bouncing back. "It's not like the big settlements, sure, but it's got its charm. You just gotta look for it."
Caelus kept his thoughts to himself on that note.
Bergstadt reminded him too much of Rivet Town—lifeless and haunted by its own history. At least Rivet Town had the excuse of being long abandoned. Here, people still lived and worked, but it felt more like survival than living.
Caelus tried to shift his focus, but his thoughts inevitably wandered toward the fragile, desperate notions he dared not dwell on for long.
Even if— and it was a colossal if at this point—Gregor could fix his phone and send him on his way… what then?
The rush of his resolve he'd felt when he first landed on Jarilo-VI now seemed distant, worn thin by weeks of fruitless searching, loss and endless cold.
The plan had been simple enough: make his way to Belobog proper, find someone—anyone—who could give him a sliver of hope, a thread to follow, and eventually a way home. But getting there almost seemed like a dream now, a fortress hidden behind a veil of ice and snow, as untouchable as the stars he used to chase.
The phone was just another reminder of how far he'd fallen. A lifeline to something familiar, something normal. Without it, all he had were memories and a gnawing ache in his chest.
Caelus bit his tongue.
No. He couldn't think like that. He had come so far already. He had to believe that getting the device working again could make things make sense again.
The problem was, what if it didn't?
His mind turned, unbidden, to the moment that it had started all: the curio.
The strange artifact had whisked him here, through light and time and something he couldn't quite name. It had been the bridge between his life before and this frozen purgatory. If he could just find someone — anyone — who could understand its workings, perhaps he could retrace his steps, learn how it to work it use it to get him back.
And yet… what if no one knew?
The thought cut through him like the wind atop that mountain he landed on.
Even here, a planet as isolated as the one he found himself stranded on, the people still worshipped an Aeon. They must know of curios. How could they not? They were more than tools; they were fragments of a higher power, remnants of something far beyond the understanding of mortals.
Surely, someone here would recognize what had brought him to this frozen world.
Right…?
Caelus shook his head, his jaw tightening. He didn't like how desperate that word sounded, even in his own mind. He'd already seen how broken this world was even back from his own.
From the Fragmentum to the ruins of Rivet Town, and now Bergstadt—a hollow echo of what might once have been thriving—it was clear that the people of Jarilo-VI were barely hanging on. He wasn't sure if anyone here could spare the time or the knowledge to help someone like him, a stranger with more questions than answers.
If he was truly alone in this, if there was no one who could help him, then what?
Would he stay? Keep wandering this wasteland, chasing after faint hopes until they burned out like dying stars?
Would Time inevitably take him then? Could he even die naturally?
His memories of home were fleeting now, blurred by time and distance.
The faces, the voices, the warmth—they all felt like they belonged to another life. He'd clung to them for so long, but the edges were beginning to fray, unraveling under the weight of this frozen exile.
A bitter laugh escaped him, low and humorless. "As if I even know what 'home' is anymore."
Lowen glanced back at him, his grin faltering slightly. "You say something?"
"No, nothing," Caelus muttered, forcing himself to straighten up. His eyes fixed on the path ahead, on the faint glow of Gregor's workshop in the distance.
He had to keep moving, even if every step felt like he was walking in circles. There had to be something waiting for him on the other side of this, some piece of the puzzle that would finally make sense.
Either that, or…
He didn't let himself finish the thought.
To do would bring about the insanity that had been steadily knocking on his door.
As they rounded a corner, Lowen gestured toward a squat building tucked into the rock. The faint hum of machinery buzzed from within, and the sharp smell of oil and metal hung in the air. "There's his place," Lowen said, his tone brighter now.
Lowen's words ripped Caelus from his dark musings, momentarily shocked to find a geomarrow heater.
That's right, he realized soberly, everyone in Yakarich didn't use them for some reason. I can't believe I didn't realize that until now. You'd think it'd be obvious with them having me collect firewood of all things.
"Word of warning," Lowen said, intruding into his thoughts once more. "I didn't get a chance to tell him we were coming, so let me do the talking alright? I'm sort of a regular here, but he might be a bit... unsettled if you try to haggle him."
Caelus just nodded, his eyes locked on the first familiar piece of tech he'd seen since landing here. As silly as it was, the unassuming device was the first reminder of home he'd had since landing here.
Lowen pushed the door open first, and Caelus followed close behind.
Two things hit him immediately—heat and smell, each vying to overwhelm his senses.
The air inside was stifling, a furnace-like blast that wrapped around him and made the layers of his heavy coat unbearable. He shrugged it off in a single, hurried motion, only to nearly gag as the acrid scent of tobacco assaulted his nose. The pungent tang was inescapable, clinging to the walls, the floor, even the faintly glowing machinery scattered across the workshop.
How does anyone breathe in here? he thought, clamping a hand over his mouth and nose to keep from retching.
"OI! What's the idea, barging in at this hour!? Can't you morons read?" a surly voice bellowed from the back, as thick and biting as the tobacco-smoke-laden air. The sound was followed by heavy, deliberate footsteps, and then the man himself appeared.
Gregor was every bit as grizzled and cantankerous as Caelus had been told. The elderly mechanic stood with a hunch that didn't diminish the impression of bulk in his shoulders. A shaggy gray beard framed a deeply lined face, his coal-black eyes gleaming like embers beneath furrowed brows. He wore grease-streaked coveralls, thick-soled boots, and gloves stained with the residue of countless projects. A long, well-worn pipe jutted from his mouth, clenched between his teeth like a weapon ready to be drawn.
The mechanic's sharp gaze landed squarely on Lowen, completely dismissing Caelus as if he were invisible. "Boy," Gregor growled, his voice rumbling like an engine threatening to stall, "don't tell me you've gone and cracked that screen of yours again. I've half a mind to toss you out if you don't got the shields to pay for another one."
Lowen scratched the back of his head, flashing a sheepish grin. "Well you know what they say – can't learn from mistakes if you don't make them, right?" He let out a nervous laugh, but Gregor didn't so much as twitch, his unamused stare unwavering.
"Ahem," Lowen added, straightening up. "But I do have someone with me who managed to mess up their tech more than I ever could, believe it or not. Gregor, this is Caelus."
"Sir," Caelus said with a polite dip of his head, swallowing his irritation at the older man's brusque demeanor. "I've heard a lot about you. I was hoping we could do some business."
Gregor shifted the pipe between his teeth, blowing a plume of smoke into the air. His eyes flicked to Caelus with a look that could peel paint off walls. "Get to the point, runt. I've got shit to do, and you're holding it up."
The curt reply made Caelus flinch, but he steadied himself. "My phone was damaged a while back," he began, keeping his tone as even as possible, "and I'm told you're the one who can fix it. See the battery—"
"Yeah, yeah," Gregor snapped, cutting him off with an impatient wave of his hand. "Shut it and let me see what kind of mess you brought me."
Caelus grit his teeth, briefly flexing his fist before fishing the phone out of his pocket and handing it over. The gesture was hardly complete before Gregor swiped it out of his hand, holding it up to inspect it under the dim light of his workshop.
"H-hey! Be careful with that!" Caelus protested, earning nothing but a sharp glance from Gregor.
"Hmph," Gregor muttered around his pipe. He turned the phone over, poking and prodding it with rough fingers. "Battery's shot to hell. Casing's wrecked, to boot. This thing's seen better days, no doubt 'bout it." He paused, raising an eyebrow as he continued his inspection. "Still… it looks better than half the junk I've dealt with lately. Where'd you get this thing, runt?"
"Does it matter?" Caelus snapped, the edge in his voice unmistakable.
Gregor finally deigned to look him in the eye, his expression unreadable except for the faintest twitch of amusement in the corners of his mouth. Pocketing the phone with a deliberate slowness that bordered on mocking, he crossed his arms. "It doesn't. What does matter is how much you want this thing back. This ain't no charity, runt."
"Can you fix it or not?" Caelus pressed, his jaw tight as he struggled to tamp down his rising frustration.
"That depends," Gregor hedged, a sleazy grin creeping around the stem of his pipe. "How much are you willing to cough up?"
Without a word, Caelus reached into his bag and pulled out a pouch heavy with shields. He tossed it at Gregor with more force than necessary, the jingling coins audible even before the mechanic caught it with ease.
Gregor weighed the pouch in his hand, his grin widening. "Not bad, but I dunno if that's enough to put it ahead of my other orders. Tomorrow's soonest I could start-"
Another pouch hit his chest, this one thrown with equal force. "I would like it done by tomorrow—no later," Caelus demanded, his tone as firm as his glare.
Gregor's grin widened further, almost predatory. "You're serious, huh?" He chuckled, shaking his head. "Tomorrow it is. Now beat it. I don't work with an audience."
Caelus turned on his heel, muttering under his breath as he headed for the door.
It took a lot to get under Caelus's skin, but the way he'd been treated since stepping foot in this place was beginning to wear on him. The disdain, the sidelong glances, the unspoken weight of suspicion pressing down on him—it all grated like sandpaper against his resolve.
First, there was Uleg, glaring at him like he'd been just another vagabond. Then the wary, sharp-eyed residents who scurried out of his way like he carried the plague. And now Gregor, that surly old mechanic who'd practically spat at the sight of him.
The sting of it all was beginning to pile up, the sharp edges of their collective scorn digging deeper with every encounter.
Why was it that Lowen was the only one who didn't seem to mind him being here? The lanky scavenger had greeted him with warmth—maybe not Boulder Town warmth, but close enough—and it felt… wrong. Off-kilter. Like an outlier in a place that seemed determined to chew him up and spit him out.
Was it because he'd been a stranger at one point? The man had said as much. Perhaps that was it. Maybe Lowen saw something of himself in Caelus, a kindred spirit in a sea of suspicion.
But even that explanation didn't sit right. Lowen was too friendly, his open demeanor a jarring contrast to the coldness surrounding him. It wasn't that Caelus didn't appreciate the kindness—it was just… disorienting. Why was this one man willing to give him the time of day when no one else would?
The thought lingered, gnawing at him as they walked. The tension in his shoulders refused to ease, and no matter how much he tried to brush it off, he couldn't shake the feeling that this place, and these people, were holding back something he couldn't see.
"Mind if I ask you something?" Caelus's voice cut through the silence as they walked, his tone hesitant but curious.
"Uh, sure. What is it?" Lowen replied, glancing over with his usual easy grin.
"Why are you still here talking to me?"
The question escaped before Caelus could stop himself, and the moment the words left his mouth, regret settled in his gut like a stone. "I didn't mean it like that," he added quickly, raising a hand in apology. "I just—"
Lowen waved him off with a chuckle, his lanky frame leaning slightly forward as if to deflect the awkwardness. "Don't worry about it. I get it," he said, his voice calm, almost reassuring. "You want to know why Uleg and the others aren't as... chipper as me."
Caelus stifled a grimace.
Chipper was certainly one way to describe Lowen's relentless enthusiasm, though another less charitable word—obnoxious—bubbled unbidden to the forefront of his mind.
He shoved it aside.
"Life's hard here," Lowen continued, his grin softening into something more thoughtful. "And I don't mean that as hyperbole. Uleg wasn't wrong when he said every newcomer is another mouth to feed. Resources are scarce—really scarce. Everything we get—food, medicine, even clothes—has to be rationed. Most of it comes from supply caravans, when we're lucky enough to get them."
Caelus nodded, though the bleak picture Lowen painted settled heavily over him. The tension in this place, the wary glances from the villagers—it all made sense now, though it didn't make it any easier to stomach.
"If it's so hard here," Caelus asked after a beat, his voice low, "why is someone like Gregor still charging you for repairs?"
Lowen shrugged, his expression somewhere between exasperation and resignation. "He's part of the reason we have caravans coming here in the first place. They usually stop by with broken automatons and machinery—things the Guard won't bother to fix without confiscating. Gregor works on them, and in return, the caravans barter with us for supplies."
Caelus frowned, the corners of his mouth tugging downward as he thought about it. He wanted to argue, to say it was ridiculous to charge struggling people for something so vital, but the words never made it past his lips.
Who was he to make that assumption? He didn't know how bad things had gotten here. The Guard, stretched thin and overburdened, might very well confiscate people's property rather than repair them. It wasn't right, but it was believable.
"Cantankerous as he is," Lowen went on, his voice carrying a grudging note of admiration, "Gregor's got the skills to back it up, and everyone knows it. That's why everyone tolerates him, even when he's a bit of a bastard. Without him, we'd probably have starved by now."
Lowen's words settled like a heavy cloak over Caelus's shoulders.
Uleg's earlier sharpness no longer seemed as cruel, just... necessary. Survival here wasn't just a fight—it was a knife's edge, every decision weighed against the balance of life and death.
Caelus let out a slow breath, his jaw tightening as resolve firmed in his chest. He wasn't here to burden these people. He wasn't going to linger any longer than he had to. His phone had better be ready by tomorrow or there'd be hell to pay. He wasn't sticking around to become another hungry mouth in an already stretched-thin community
"Anyways," Lowen said, stretching his arms over his head with a satisfied sigh, "all this running around's got me working up an appetite. How about you?"
Caelus gave him a sidelong glance, his tone dry as he muttered, "Somehow, I don't think Uleg would approve of me digging into the village's food stocks."
Lowen waved the comment away with a flick of his hand, his grin growing wider. "Eh, what he doesn't know won't hurt him. And if he gets ornery, I'll take the blame."
Caelus stopped, turning to face him fully. "How's that fair to you?" he asked, his voice tinged with incredulity. Despite himself, he felt oddly defensive of the lanky villager, a man he'd barely known for an hour.
"How's it fair for someone's good deed to go unrewarded?" Lowen shot back, the grin morphing into a frown.
"I didn't save you to get rewarded, let's get that straight," Caelus stated, already starting to walk away. But Lowen was quick, stepping in front of him and holding out a hand to stop him.
"Exactly!" Lowen said, his voice rising slightly, his eyes fixed on Caelus with uncharacteristic seriousness. "That's what I mean. Everyone here's used to getting something out of whatever they do. That's how we've survive. Quid pro quo—it's just how it is. But I know from one stranger to another that that's not how I live, and it's not how you live either, is it?"
Caelus opened his mouth to protest, to fire back with something that would put an end to this line of conversation. But the noise that came next didn't come from his mouth.
GROOOOOOOOWL.
His stomach let out a deep, traitorous rumble, the sound reverberating between them like a confession he hadn't meant to make.
Caelus flushed immediately, the heat rising to his cheeks as he glared down at his stomach as though it had personally betrayed him. "Really…?" he hissed under his breath, his voice dripping with exasperation.
Lowen, of course, was delighted. He looked positively smug, his grin stretching wide enough to rival the horizon. "And that right there only proves my point! You can say whatever you want, but the stomach?" He jabbed a finger at Caelus's midsection, his tone turning almost preachy. "The stomach's the most honest part of the body. It never lies. So, care to keep lying to yourself?"
Caelus's jaw tightened, his hands curling into loose fists at his sides.
He wanted to argue—wanted to tell Lowen to shove off—but the truth hung between them, undeniable and persistent. He let out a long, weary sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose before leveling a finger at the still-grinning villager.
"...One plate," he said firmly, his tone brooking no argument.
If only he'd stop grinning, Caelus thought sourly.
Despite Lowen's insistence, Caelus made sure to take only the barest amount of food—just enough to
quiet the growling protests of his stomach. The meal distributors didn't seem impressed by his restraint, their expressions remaining fixed in thinly veiled disapproval. Worse still were the stares from the other villagers, their glares oscillating between him and Lowen as though trying to decide who was the greater offender.
Lowen, of course, paid them no mind. Whether he was oblivious or simply immune after years of such treatment, Caelus couldn't tell. The lanky scavenger kept up his relentless chatter, gesturing animatedly with his hands as he spun stories about Bergstadt's quirks, the supply caravans, and Gregor's infamous temper.
Though Lowen's enthusiasm teetered on the edge of overwhelming, Caelus found himself quietly admiring the man's resilience. The cold looks and whispered judgments slid off him like rain off a coat, as though they couldn't touch whatever spark burned within.
It feels almost like when I met Tobias-
The thought hit him like a fist, sharp and sudden, and he winced before he could stop himself. He swallowed a shuddering sigh, his chest tightening as old memories clawed their way to the surface.
A quick glance at Lowen confirmed he hadn't noticed his slip, the stream of chatter unabated.
Small mercies, though it didn't make the ache any easier to bear.
Tobias… The name alone was enough to conjure images he'd tried so hard to bury: the tension, the arguments, the thorny animosity that had once defined their every interaction; and that final night they'd made peace with one another… right before everything burned down.
And then…
Magna.
His hands curled into fists beneath the table. He didn't need to close his eyes to see it, the memory as vivid as the moment it happened.
Finding the man's lifeless body not far from hers, the ground-stained dark with blood, the air still humming with the echoes of their last battle. Tobias, who had likely watched Magna fall to the shadewalkers, her light extinguished in an instant. And then it had been him slain not long after—too stubborn, too proud to retreat when he should have.
It was a tragedy that shouldn't have happened. Something that could've—should've—been avoided.
Caelus bit the inside of his cheek, hard, forcing the memories back into the depths of his mind where they belonged.
There was no great shadow looming over Bergstadt like there had been at Yakarich, no ancient terror threatening to strike down its people. These people, prickly as they were, didn't deserve to fall to another of his "efforts".
Shoving the grim thoughts aside, he forced his focus back to his surroundings.
Bergstadt was so much like Boulder Town in its design, yet the differences couldn't be ignored. The buildings, though familiar in some respects were punctuated by sleek, streamlined outcroppings that jutted out like relics from another time. Their smooth surfaces reflected the torchlight faintly, giving them an otherworldly glow that felt entirely out of place in a settlement carved into the rock.
In a way, they reminded him of Herta's station, their futuristic design incongruous with the rough, lived-in feel of the rest of the village.
Yet these people didn't seem bothered by them. If anything, they navigated around them with practiced ease, treating them as an unremarkable part of their landscape.
Caelus frowned slightly, his gaze lingering on one such structure not far from where they sat.
It was half-buried in the stone, its surface weathered but still gleaming faintly under the muted light. Glimpses of the past like this were scattered throughout the village, stubborn remnants of a history that refused to fade completely.
And as much as Caelus tried to push the thought away, a part of him wondered if there were answers buried here, in the sleek lines and strange materials. Something that might explain how this place might fit into the puzzle he'd been trying so desperately to solve.
"Hey, you still with us?" Lowen's playful voice jolted Caelus out of his thoughts. The scavenger waved a half-eaten skewer in his direction before taking an exaggerated bite. "The Freeze will claim your food at this rate."
Caelus blinked, glancing down at his untouched plate. "Yeah, just… do you know anything about those monuments?" He gestured toward one of the sleek outcroppings visible in the distance.
Lowen followed his gaze, his chewing slowing as he considered the question. "...you mean the remnants?"
"Is that what they're called?"
"That's what most folks call them. Remnants, leftovers—whatever fits. They're all that's left of what life used to be like before the Freeze."
"They're artifacts…!?" Caelus exclaimed, a little too loudly. Several villagers shot him disgruntled looks, and he shrank slightly under their glares.
"Eh, not quite. They're more like… markers, I guess? Little reminders that even this place has its own skeletons. Nothing dangerous really, but people still get jittery about letting the kids play around them. Can't really see why; we're deep enough that the Corrosion isn't really an issue, at least in the village."
Lev had said the same thing back in Yakarich, and they'd seen how well that turned out. The memory stirred a quiet unease in his chest.
"You know," Lowen continued, leaning back with a smirk, "you're probably the first stranger I've met who's so interested in ancient history like that."
"It's because…" Caelus froze mid-sentence, his words catching in his throat as his eyes widened.
He had almost blurted out the truth, an admission he couldn't afford to make. Lowen didn't know the full story of why he was here, and it didn't feel right to lie outright.
Yet, the truth felt dangerous—something that might shift the fragile balance of his time in Bergstadt.
"...I've always been interested in stuff like that, especially since there's so little left of the old world."
To his relief—and mild concern—Lowen didn't seem put off by the lame excuse. If anything, his face lit up with excitement. "Really now? Then you oughta meet the Elder before you leave! He used to be a scholar in the capital back in the day. Came here with an expedition team a long time ago — helped found this place, matter of fact."
Caelus perked up despite himself. Someone from the capital was here? "Could what he was looking for have anything to do with those remnants?"
Lowen scratched the back of his head, his grin dimming slightly. "Dunno. Most of what he talks about goes right over my head—same for everyone else around here. But maybe you could make sense of it? Sounds like you two share the same passion for this kinda stuff."
"Assuming I'd stick around long enough for that," Caelus muttered, his tone cautious as he caught the hopeful glint in Lowen's eyes. "I don't think a stranger like me would be given an audience."
Lowen's enthusiasm deflated slightly, and Caelus couldn't help but feel a twinge of relief. "You're probably right," Lowen admitted, his voice quieter now. "And I shouldn't be pestering you when you've been out in the wastes for Aeon's-knows how long."
"It's fine," Caelus said, his voice steady despite the exhaustion tugging at its edges. "Really. The only thing I'm worried about now is heading back out."
"Back out?" Lowen parroted, his eyes going wide as if he'd just heard something absurd. "Wait, you mean—"
Caelus nodded, pushing his chair back slightly. "I appreciate the meal, but I'm not going to intrude on you or anyone else any more than I already have. Not if I can help it."
"B-but you can't go back out there!" Lowen spluttered, leaning forward with a frantic edge to his voice. "Those monsters—"
"—are nothing I haven't dealt with before," Caelus interrupted, his tone firm as he met Lowen's wide-eyed gaze. "You, of all people, should understand that."
Lowen's jaw tightened, but instead of relenting, he jabbed a finger in Caelus's direction. "And do you think you can even make it back to the lift with how your eyes keep drifting?"
Caelus blinked, startled by the accusation, but Lowen's words seem to trigger something in him. His eyelids suddenly felt heavy, drooping no matter how much he tried to force them open. Exhaustion clung to him like a shroud, every muscle in his body screaming for rest after what had been hours of trudging through the wastes and fending off whatever the Fragmentum sent his way.
He bit down hard on his lip, the sharp pain shooting through him like a warning bell. It wasn't enough. The drowsiness was relentless, crashing over him in waves, dragging him closer and closer to the edge of sleep.
With a resigned sigh, he let his head fall into his hand, dragging it down his face in frustration. "Dammit…"
"Look," Lowen said, his voice softer now but no less insistent, "why not bunk with me for the night? My place ain't much, but it's cozy—better than whatever derelict you'd find out there." He hesitated for a moment, then added, "And I'm close to Gregor's workshop, so you won't have to go far in the morning if you got something you want to take up with him."
Caelus held off responding, the weight of the offer pressing against his pride. Every fiber of his being hated the idea of relying on anyone, of being a burden to people who were already scraping by.
But the exhaustion was winning, his limbs feeling like lead, and much as he hated to admit such things, Lowen wasn't wrong.
He wouldn't last long out there like this.
"...fine," he muttered, his voice begrudging. "But let me finish my food first."
"What food?"
"The food on my – eh…?" Caelus's gaze snapped down to his plate, his eyes widening in disbelief.
When did I eat all of that!?
GROOOOOOWL.
As if on cue, his stomach let out a deep, resonant growl, loud enough to turn a few nearby heads. Heat flooded Caelus's face, the blush creeping up his neck like liquid fire.
Lowen just grinned at him, and pushed his own plate across the table. "One plate, huh?"
It was the chill that dragged Caelus from the depths of sleep. The comforting warmth of Lowen's heater, which had blanketed him earlier, was conspicuously absent. The cold bit at his skin, seeping into his bones like icy fingers.
Slowly, groggily, he blinked awake.
The shack, usually humming faintly with life from the heater and Lowen's restless movements, was eerily silent. The faint orange glow of the heater was gone, swallowed by the oppressive darkness that now filled the room.
Caelus's gaze flicked toward the door—it was ajar, a thin crack letting in a sliver of moonlight that spilled across the floor.
"Lowen?" he called softly, his voice barely rising above a whisper.
Silence swallowed his words.
He sat up, the creak of the old cot sounding unnaturally loud in the stillness. "This again," he grumbled under his breath, scrubbing a hand over his face. His eyes narrowed as unease prickled at the back of his neck. "I swear, if there's another shadow out there—"
He rose, his movements slow but purposeful, and crossed to the door. The cold air hit him like a slap when he shoved it open, but no sound came from the rickety wood as it slammed against the wall. His breath curled in pale tendrils before him, caught in the silvery glow of the moon.
"Hello…? Anybody?" he called, his voice sharper now, but the village was silent, unnervingly so. He scoffed, turning back toward the warmth he craved. "Forget it. Just go back to sleep—"
The words died on his lips.
Not far away, a glimmering silhouette stood motionless, its back to him. Wispy tendrils of smoke trailed from its form, curling upward like fragile threads unraveling into the night. It was humanoid, its proportions childlike, though its edges shimmered and wavered as if it weren't entirely solid. The glow it emitted was faint, a pale luminescence that seemed to draw the shadows closer.
Against every shred of better judgment, Caelus found himself moving toward it. His steps were cautious, his boots crunching softly against the frosted ground. The figure didn't react, remaining eerily still as he approached.
Just as he was within arm's reach, it jolted to life.
The figure moved with an unsettling swiftness, darting into the village like a wisp carried by the wind. Its form flickered, light and shadow twisting unnaturally as it vanished between the darkened buildings.
Caelus froze, his breath caught in his throat. "Don't do it," he muttered to himself, his voice a low growl. "Just forget about it."
It wasn't the Stellaron howling bloody murder at him, for once; he could just ignore it until whatever this was passed.
And yet...
"…dammit." The curse hissed through his teeth as he broke into a sprint, chasing after the specter.
The village was deathly silent, save for the pounding of his boots and the frantic rhythm of his heart. Not a soul in sight either. The shadows seemed to stretch and twist around him, the silence pressing in on all sides.
The glimmering figure remained ahead, always just out of reach, flitting between the buildings like a ghost that didn't belong to this world.
And as much as Caelus wanted to stop, to turn back and leave this mystery behind, he couldn't shake the feeling that something — or someone — was waiting for him at the end of this chase.
The shimmering figure led him deeper into the heart of the village, the icy air growing heavier with each step.
Caelus followed, his breath puffing in frantic clouds as his boots crunched against the frostbitten ground. The silence pressed against his ears like a weight, every sound he made swallowed by the oppressive stillness.
The specter finally came to a halt before a cluster of dilapidated buildings, their weathered facades bathed in faint moonlight. Looming in front of them was one of the sleek, alien remnants Lowen had mentioned earlier. Its smooth surface gleamed faintly, almost alive in the way it seemed to catch and refract the light.
Without thinking, Caelus lunged forward, his arms outstretched, aiming to grab the specter before it could slip away.
But just as his fingers brushed the air where it had been, the figure dissolved, vanishing into wisps of smoke. The sudden lack of resistance sent him stumbling forward, his hand inadvertently slamming into the surface of the remnant.
A jolt shot up his arm, shocking him.
As he snatched his hand back to inspect it, the remnant suddenly began to glow a bright white. Then, like a bubble being burst, a wave of light surged out and blinded him briefly. When it passed, he suddenly realized he was no longer alone.
Two more figures materialized in front of him. These weren't childlike like the specter before — they were taller, adult-like, their glimmering forms shifting and wavering like mirages.
Caelus froze, his breath catching as the specters began to speak, their voices echoing with a ghostly cadence.
"Professor," one said, its tone filled with skepticism, "are you sure this hole in the wall is the place?"
"This world has buried much from the old," the one called the "Professor" replied, its hands resting on its hips. "There is history here, even as we stand. A litany of secrets just waiting to be unveiled."
The first specter shifted, its form flickering slightly. "Even so, shouldn't we have informed the Architects of this find? Or even the Guardian herself? If what we learned is true, this pertains to them as well."
The Professor let out a long, weary sigh, its shimmering form shifting with the motion. "The Architects have made it their mission to bury the past, especially the old world. The Madam Guardian is of the same mind. Had they known our intent, they would have stopped us without question."
"But what would the Architects have to hide?"
"That, student," the Professor said, its tone weighted with meaning, "is precisely what we shall uncover."
Their words hung in the frigid air for a moment, heavy and full of implication. Then, just as suddenly as they had appeared, the figures began to fade. Their forms dissolved into faint motes of light, leaving Caelus standing in stunned silence, his breath caught in his throat.
He stared at the empty space where they'd stood, his mind racing. The conversation was cryptic, laced with mysteries he couldn't begin to unravel, yet it gnawed at something deep within him.
His gaze fell back onto the remnant that had returned to its inert state, its secret unveiled.
Before he could even process what he'd just witnessed, the childlike apparition from earlier flickered back into existence a short distance away. Its glowing form seemed to regard him for a moment, its head tilting slightly as if studying him. Then, with the same eerie swiftness as before, it turned and darted away, its form shimmering as it vanished into the shadows.
"Wait!" Caelus shouted, his voice raw and desperate.
Ignoring the ache in his knees, he surged to his feet and took off after the specter, his earlier confusion and fear shelved for the now.
The figure darted ahead, always just out of reach, its glowing silhouette cutting through the dark like a wisp leading him deeper into the unknown.
It didn't take long for Caelus to find her again, the glimmering childlike figure darting ahead through a labyrinth of twisting paths. She moved with an otherworldly grace, her glowing form slipping around corners just before he could reach her. His boots pounded against the ground, the chill of the night forgotten as adrenaline spurred him on.
Then, just as suddenly as before, she stopped.
Her silhouette stood still in the center of a small clearing, her faint glow casting long shadows against the surrounding structures. And, like before, a fixture of remnants jutted out from nearby.
Caelus slowed, his breath ragged as he approached, every step deliberate. But the moment he reached for her, she dissolved into a wisp of smoke, vanishing like mist under the sun.
Instead of annoyance, his gaze shifted to the remnant closest to him then back down to his hand. "Ok… one's an anomaly, and two…"
He placed his hand delicately upon the remnant this time but received a similar shock as before, prompting him to yank his arm back with a yelp.
Like before, another set of specters appeared.
This time, there were three of them.
One was crumpled on the ground, their form flickering faintly as if struggling to maintain its shape. Another knelt beside them, cradling their injured companion with trembling hands. The third stood tall, a commanding presence that radiated determination even in its ghostly state.
"Professor, this is insane!" the kneeling figure shouted, her voice trembling with anger and fear. She turned her head sharply to the standing specter, her frustration palpable. "No discovery is worth risking our necks for like this! Who knows how many more traps this place might have?"
The one referred to as the Professor stood unmoved, their form wreathed in a faint, steady glow. "The mere fact that there are traps at all indicates that something worth guarding lies within," they said, their tone calm, almost detached. "That said, I won't have you risk your lives unnecessarily. But I must see this through."
The injured specter's cough echoed eerily in the silence, his voice strained as they looked up from where they lay. "Why… why is this place so important, sir? And if it is, why would you believe the Architects—or even the Guardian—would want to hide it?"
The Professor's posture stiffened, their glow seeming to deepen as they spoke.
"Mankind's greatest triumphs are often built upon the sacrifices of the many," they said grimly. "The rise of our protector is no different. Every scrap of research, every lead I've followed, has led me to this place. Something significant is here—something buried beneath the weight of history. Just what that is remains to be seen." They paused, their voice taking on an edge of conviction. "…perhaps what we find here will not only illuminate the past but serve as the key to our future."
With those words, the specters' forms flickered, their outlines fading into the night like a dying flame.
Caelus stood rooted to the spot, his breath shallow as he tried to process the scene he had just witnessed. His mind churned, the Professor's grim words echoing like a distant bell.
"…this isn't just a dream," he whispered, awe and unease mingling in his voice.
These weren't random apparitions—they were echoes of the past, fragments of the explorers Lowen had spoken of. They had walked these paths, uncovered these secrets. But why was he seeing them now?
The remnants… somehow, they had captured the presences of these people not unlike a recording would. But why were they reacting to his touch?
Ahead, the childlike figure reappeared, standing at the edge of the clearing.
Caelus felt a sinking sensation in his chest. Whatever this was, it wouldn't end until he reached the conclusion of the strange visions unfolding before him—whether by catching her, which felt impossible, or by uncovering the truth she was leading him toward.
"Nothing for it," he muttered under his breath.
And with that, he broke into a run again, chasing the specter deeper into the dark silence of the village.
This time, the girl led him farther and farther from the village, darting into shadowy passages that seemed untouched by time. These tunnels were narrow, forgotten veins carved deep into the mountain, their jagged walls cloaked in silence and dust.
It was hard to believe anyone from Bergstadt even knew these paths existed. Hell, did these even still exist?
The thought clawed at the back of his mind, but he shoved it aside and pressed on, his breath fogging in the icy air as he descended deeper into the earth.
Then he slid to a halt, his boots skidding against the stone as his breath hitched.
The rocky expanse that had surrounded him abruptly gave way to something… impossible. He blinked, rubbed his eyes, and then blinked again, but the sight didn't change. The scene before him was so out of place, so incongruous with everything he'd seen so far, that it felt like a fever dream bleeding into reality.
Set into the stone was a door, its sleek, angular design more suited to the sterile halls of Herta's station than this ancient, forgotten cavern. Smooth metallic panels interlocked with geometric precision, faint lines of light tracing patterns across its surface. It radiated an aura of uncanny stillness, as though it were waiting—watching.
Caelus gaped, his heart pounding in his chest.
The girl was gone. He turned sharply, scanning the shadows for any signs her glowing figure, but she had vanished without a trace.
Instead, standing before the door was another specter—the Professor, his form flickering faintly in the dim light.
Caelus approached cautiously, his boots crunching softly on the frost-laden ground. Every step was measured, his senses alert for any sign of the traps that had been mentioned. The notion felt absurd—what could possibly harm him here, in this state?
But instinct wouldn't let him relax. This place… it was foreign to him yet familiar all the same.
As he drew closer, the Professor began to speak. His voice was different this time—older, raspier, weighted by years of disappointment.
"How many years has it been since then?" the specter murmured, his tone laced with exhaustion. "How long have you stood here, sequestered from the world we know? All this time… and still, you are the one obstacle I cannot overcome."
The Professor sighed deeply, his translucent figure slumping as though the weight of his words were too much to bear. "The others… have all moved on, content with what they found. But not I. No, I remain. Because whatever you stand in defense of… it is meant to remain hidden. And for that, I cannot leave—not until I see the truth with my own eyes."
A series of rough, wet coughs escaped the specter then, the sound echoing hollowly through the cavern and startling Caelus. The Professor's glow dimmed slightly, his flickering form seeming to shrink.
"Ah," the specter rasped, his voice cracking. "But Time… is as merciless as the Freeze. It may no longer be my choice to make. If only… if only I possessed the key you required..."
His words trailed off into the stillness, and then, like the others before him, the Professor faded into nothingness.
Caelus stood frozen, his breath shallow as he stared at the now-empty space where the specter had been. His gaze drifted back to the door, his mind racing with the fragments of the conversation.
"A key…" he murmured, his voice barely audible.
He stepped forward, his hand half-reaching for the metallic surface, but a sudden noise—sharp and echoing—snapped him out of his thoughts.
He whirled around, his heart leaping into his throat, and found himself face-to-face with the same little girl from before. She was closer than ever now, enough that he could reach her in a just a few steps.
He waited, but she made no move to approach him.
"Why… did you show me this? What's the point?"
The little girl didn't answer, of course… but she did approach him this time.
And before his eyes, her form shifted right before his eyes from an adolescent to a grown woman.
Unconsciously, he took a step back, instinctively reaching for a weapon that was not there.
She came close, glowing form so vivid and solid that he could have reached out and touched it. Her face—or what should have been a face—was featureless, yet something in her posture made his blood run cold.
A familiarity… a sense of purpose…
Something he'd only felt once before, back when….
His stomach dropped.
It couldn't be… but…
"Y-you… are you-?"
His words were silenced as the specter raised her hand. The motion was deliberate, final, and the world was swallowed in an overwhelming burst of light.
Alright, alright, one more chapter and we'll get back to the Present I promise. Even if I have to make it a bit meaty like the fight with Grim Fang.
Also I realize that I made Caelus kinda overdo the angst when it comes to Yakarich here but, I'll be frank. Writing that type of stuff is a bit of a sore spot for me; how much is too much, you know? It might be the case here but you won't need to worry about it being a focal going forward. I said it would define his actions, but he won't be thinking constantly about what happened. It's just still "fresh" to him. Plus, Caelus is still a kid here, relatively speaking; anyone who can move past that without some lingering guilt is not a character that's morally just.
Bergstadt - literally "Mountain village" in German. I decided to make it similar to Boulder Town since I needed a template, and realistically speaking, why would Boulder Town be the only one of its kind? I alluded to such back during the Prologue when Caelus was talking with Svarog. Don't get too comfy; we'll be heading out to bigger, and grander things after the next one. Because the next chapter will officially give Caelus the drive he needs to continue on his journey.
Forewarning for next chapter and onward though: as I did with Court Adjourned, I will be taking extensive creative liberties with the origins of the Supreme Guardians, Pre-Freeze Jarilo-VI and such. So just bear with me.
A couple of ocs again but they won't be sticking around for long. I have no idea if they will be recurring later on, but that's far into the future and most likely after Caelus finally makes it to Belobog - and meets Cocolia.
Speaking of which, the next Interlude will be taking place from her pov. These types of chapters will swap povs depending on which character provides the most cohesive experience. I'm really excited for that one... soon as I can come up with what will be in it ^^;
Anyways, once again thank you all for giving this story so much love not just here but also on my other stories. I cannot wait to finally get to what I've been dying to write in this fic. Look forward to it!
Till then,
Take care (and stay healthy and safe!)