Aboard the massive Dreadnought-class Starcruiser, a heavy aura of power hung in the air. At the very front of the ship stood a woman clad in a custom-tailored blue battle robe, embroidered with golden thread. She looked regal, composed—every inch a commanding presence.
Behind her stood two more figures—leaders of the other major families. Their eyes were sharp, their bearing imposing. These were humanity's elite, the strongest of the strong.
"It's been years… and here we are, fighting side by side again," Claire said, her voice calm but tinged with nostalgia.
Like Howard and Serah, the three of them had once been part of the same squad in their youth—comrades who'd bled together, survived together. Bonds forged in fire.
"Yeah," rumbled one of the men, a broad-shouldered middle-aged warrior with a voice like rolling thunder. "Looks like we couldn't outrun fate. Fighting for Heartland… it was always going to come to this."
