Bai Sha allowed herself a brief respite on the starship, her body sinking into the narrow bunk as exhaustion claimed her. The hum of the ship's engines was a lullaby, coaxing her into a shallow doze. Her dreams were fragmented—flashes of the Lone Light's silent halls, the glow of stasis pods, the Nexus's cold voice offering eternity. She stirred, her shoulder throbbing, a reminder of the battle she'd survived.
When she awoke, Uriel stood nearby, his presence a quiet anchor. "His Majesty requests a comms call," he said, placing a tray of nutrient-packed rations before her. "I've briefed him on the mission, but he's concerned for you. He didn't disturb you while you slept, but now that you're awake, you should speak with him."
Bai Sha rubbed her temples, the fog of sleep lingering. "It was just a nap. He could've called me directly—I'm not that fragile." She opened a ration can, its metallic tang sharp in the sterile air, and activated her optic interface. Emperor Cecil's face materialized on the holo-screen, his expression composed but his eyes a storm of conflicting emotions—relief, worry, and something deeper, unspoken.
"Uncle," Bai Sha said, her voice soft. "Have you seen Xipes… I mean, my mother?"
"I viewed her through a holo-feed," Cecil replied. "Her neural data's been sent to our top rehabilitation specialists. Despite the trauma of her psychic self-destruction, her foundation is strong. They're optimistic about her waking." His gaze flicked to her bandaged shoulder, then to the raw wound on her lip, his brow furrowing. "But you—what happened? A fractured shoulder is one thing, but your lip? How do you manage to injure yourself so thoroughly?"
Bai Sha gave a wry smile. "Would you believe I'm just unlucky?"
Cecil exhaled sharply, noting her spirited demeanor. Satisfied she wasn't broken, he let the matter drop.
"What about my father, Bai Yi?" Bai Sha asked, a sudden thought striking her. "How's he doing?"
Cecil's face tightened, a fleeting shadow crossing his features. "I didn't check," he said curtly.
Bai Sha sighed, pressing a hand to her forehead. He hadn't just overlooked Bai Yi—he'd deliberately avoided him, his pride still bruised by his sister's choices.
"Come on, Uncle, isn't it time to face reality?" she said, a teasing lilt in her voice. "They look good together, don't they?"
Cecil's lips curled into a cold smirk. "I haven't acknowledged him as a Ronin yet. That can wait until they're both awake."
Bai Sha shook her head, amused. Xipes's freedom to choose her partner was undeniable, but her years of secrecy—leaving her brother to worry for over a decade—had left scars. Cecil's stubbornness was his armor, though Bai Sha suspected it would soften in time.
"What about the other Sea Kind?" she asked, her tone sobering. "Can they be revived?"
"The experts won't commit," Cecil said. "They speak of 'hope' but won't promise results until treatment begins. Hope's enough for now." He paused, his gaze sharpening. "Your friends—Yan Jingyi and Ya Ning—are eager to return to the Federation. I've granted them exit clearance and arranged transport. What do you think?"
Bai Sha blinked, caught off guard. "They're leaving?"
"The Lone Light's destruction collapsed the Unbounded City," Cecil explained. "Those trapped in comas are waking, stirring chaos in the Federation. The City targeted high-psychic individuals who opposed the Nexus. Their awakening is a blow to the Nexus's grip." He fell into a brief, contemplative silence.
Bai Sha sensed more. "What aren't you saying?"
"The Federation's on the brink of civil war," Cecil said bluntly.
The Nexus's cunning lay in its early control of the Federation's military. Eight of its eighteen districts were now under Ning Hongxue's command, armed with Nexus-supplied weapons and psychic matrices. The remaining ten districts were split: some, remote and neutral, stayed silent; others, backed by powerful clans, amassed forces. Many soldiers and officers, wary of Nexus influence, had defected to clan-led private armies. Even military academies were fracturing—Central Military Academy saw loyalists stay with Ning Hongxue, while dissenters dropped out or transferred.
"Word is, the clans are forming a resistance against Ning Hongxue and the Nexus," Cecil continued. "He hasn't openly declared for the Nexus, so he retains legitimacy as the military's leader, rallying support with promises of meritocracy—rank unbound by psychic strength. That resonates with many. But the clans, with deep roots and vast resources, are holding their own, recruiting veterans with generous terms."
The Nexus had schemed for decades, content to erode the Federation slowly. But Ning Hongxue's aggressive zeal had alarmed the clans, and the sleepers' awakening was a spark, igniting long-suppressed rebellion.
"If war breaks out," Bai Sha said quietly, "we can't stay neutral."
"We must guard against the Nexus's viral weapons," Cecil warned. "Your devouring talent can save hundreds, but not millions."
"Still no progress on a viral suppressant at the Imperial Academy?" Bai Sha asked.
"It's not simple," Cecil said. "This virus is ancient, coded into our original genes. It was likely designed as a leash for Aresians from their creation."
The Nexus's threat to the Empire remained potent, limiting their ability to counter its expansion. Bai Sha's brow furrowed, but she met Cecil's gaze with resolve. "Even so, I have a role only I can play. Are Ya Ning and Yan Jingyi gone?"
"They're waiting to say goodbye," Cecil said. "They're eager to leave, so it might just be a comms call."
"Ask them to hold off," Bai Sha said, downing the last of her rations. "And please, in your name, contact the Imperial Mecha Design Institute and my mentor, Jiang Gui. Before they go, I need to prepare gifts for them."
She intended to complete the Obsidian Gold weapons' refinement and, though time was short, begin the Obsidian Gold mecha project. Originally, she'd planned to lead it herself, but now she'd need assistance. With Jiang Gui's involvement, tradition dictated his name would precede hers on the design credits, given his seniority and accolades. Bai Sha didn't care—her friends' survival mattered more than glory.
Days later, in the Zhou clan's sanatorium, Zhou Yue sat by his brother's bedside, his voice steady as he read aloud from the latest issue of Mecha Innovation Vanguard. Zhou Ying, still comatose, lay pale but responsive, his neural activity flickering at the sound of familiar words. The sanatorium's doctors had recommended auditory stimulation, and Zhou Yue, newly awakened, had taken up the task, reading the journal Zhou Ying loved, issue by issue.
The effect was tangible—Zhou Ying's brainwaves occasionally spiked, a faint echo of his spirit. "This is the last issue for now," Zhou Yue said, closing the holo-screen with a sigh. "The National Design Institute and military are in disarray. Mecha designers are prized, fought over by every faction. No one dares publish or submit, so they've paused the journal."
Zhou Ying's brainwaves surged, a ripple of displeasure.
"When you wake," Zhou Yue said, a faint smile tugging at his lips, "you can submit your own work. They'd jump at a feature on you."
The door slid open, and the Zhou patriarch's assistant entered, his expression taut. "Please prepare, sir. The patriarch has decided to transfer you and Master Ying to a private planet for safety, given the unrest."
"Ying goes," Zhou Yue said, shutting off the screen. "I stay."
The assistant hesitated. "But—"
"You're forming a resistance, aren't you?" Zhou Yue met his gaze, calm but unyielding. "The Zhou clan leads the clans' efforts. Other families will send their heirs to fight—Zhou must do the same."
The assistant's mind raced with objections: Zhou Ying's uncertain recovery made Zhou Yue the heir apparent, too valuable to risk; his synesthesia, still untreated, could worsen in combat; and Zhou Yue's years of estrangement from the clan had been a rebellion against its ruthless expectations. He'd sought peace—why now choose war?
But Zhou Yue's eyes, steady and resolute, silenced him. "Inform Grandfather," Zhou Yue said. "He'll agree."
The assistant relayed the message, receiving a swift reply. "The patriarch refuses," he said, surprised. "There are others your age to fight. You don't need to take this risk."
"Then I join as a Zhou or as myself," Zhou Yue said. "Tell him to choose."
The assistant's jaw tightened. "Why defy him so fiercely?"
"This is for Ying," Zhou Yue said, his voice hardening. "Ning Hongxue must answer for what he's done. He's lost to madness—I have no reason to hold back."
Zhou Yue's bond with Ning Hongxue had once been deep, forged during his years adrift when Ning cared for him. Their reunion on Lanslow Star had felt like reclaiming family. The Zhou clan's brutal, Darwinian upbringing had repelled Zhou Yue, who loathed its fratricidal ethos. He'd seen Ning as different, a beacon of humanity. But Ning's descent into ambition proved him no better than the clan's schemers.
Zhou Yue would right that wrong himself.
"I've conveyed your words," the assistant said. "The patriarch relents, but the resistance is still secret. How did you know?"
Zhou Yue's fingers brushed his optic device. Ya Ning and Yan Jingyi had messaged him, delaying their return to reserve spots in the resistance. Holman, implicated in the Xiao Yang Star incident, was already enlisted. Ya Ning and Yan Jingyi were de facto recruits, and they'd brought news: Bai Sha was crafting Obsidian Gold weapons for them and Zhou Yue, with a mecha to counter his synesthesia, unleashing his full potential.
It was the best news Zhou Yue had received since waking.
His friends were alive, safe, and fighting. He recalled their first trip to Youdu Star, when Bai Sha unveiled her Obsidian Gold research—a dream then, now nearly realized. Ya Ning's messages flooded his inbox:
"Obsidian Gold weapons were enough, but Bai Sha shelved the mecha's lead role to rush it for you, pulling in a team to help…"
"There's this master, Jiang Gui—call him the god of mecha. Zhou Ying would've been awestruck."
"Jingyi's idea: after this, we join the Empire as exchange students. Bai Sha's uncle approved. We just show up."
Zhou Yue agreed—it was a future worth fighting for.
Forty days later, Ya Ning Kelly and Yan Jingyi returned to the Federation, bearing three Obsidian Gold mechas and weapons. They joined the resistance, their arrival a spark in the gathering storm.
Bai Sha oversaw the weapons' final refinements aboard the starship, her shoulder still bound but her focus razor-sharp. The Imperial Mecha Design Institute, under Jiang Gui's guidance, had transformed her schematics into reality. The Obsidian Gold alloy, rare and resonant with psychic energy, amplified a pilot's abilities while shielding them from overload. For Zhou Yue, it promised control over his synesthesia, a condition that had long hobbled his combat potential.
Jiang Gui's involvement was a coup, his expertise elevating the project to legendary status. Bai Sha relinquished primary credit without hesitation—her friends' survival trumped ego. The mechas, sleek and obsidian-hued, stood ready in the starship's hangar, their surfaces shimmering like liquid night.
Before Ya Ning and Yan Jingyi departed, Bai Sha met them in the hangar. The air was thick with the tang of coolant and the hum of diagnostics. Ya Ning, ever the optimist, grinned broadly. "You outdid yourself, Sha," he said, running a hand over a mecha's hull. "These are game-changers."
Yan Jingyi, more reserved, nodded. "They'll give us an edge. Thank you."
Bai Sha smiled, though her heart ached at their parting. "Use them well. And come back to Youdu when this is over. The Empire could use you."
"Deal," Ya Ning said, his eyes bright. "Exchange students, right? We'll hold you to it."
As they boarded their transport, Bai Sha watched, a mix of pride and worry settling in her chest. The Federation's war would test them, but she trusted their strength—and the weapons she'd forged.
Back on Youdu Star, she turned her attention to the Sea Kind survivors. The medical teams worked tirelessly, their reports cautiously hopeful. Xipes and Bai Yi remained stable, their neural activity promising. Bai Sha visited daily, speaking to them through the pod's glass, her words a bridge across time.
Cecil, despite his gruff exterior, softened toward Bai Yi, his visits to the medical bay growing frequent. "He's not half bad," he admitted one evening, catching Bai Sha off guard. "For a civilian."
She laughed, the sound lightening the sterile room. "Progress, Uncle."
The Empire braced for the Nexus's retaliation. Intelligence suggested it held reserves—chips, viruses, hidden bases. Bai Sha collaborated with the Imperial Academy, refining her devouring talent to counter viral threats, though a universal cure remained elusive. Her resolve never wavered; she'd fight with every tool at her disposal.
In the Federation, the resistance gained momentum. Zhou Yue, wielding his Obsidian Gold mecha, became a symbol of defiance, his synesthesia no longer a chain but a blade. Ya Ning and Yan Jingyi, armed with Bai Sha's weapons, carved paths through Nexus strongholds, their names whispered in rebel camps.
The galaxy teetered, its future unwritten. Bai Sha stood at its heart, her past a fuel, her present a weapon. The Nexus would fall, and with it, the chains binding her people. For Xipes, for Bai Yi, for Zhou Yue, for all who dreamed of freedom—she would not falter.