Solarium of Serenity, Golden sector
Caelestis Prime
Earth's exo-atmospheric orbit
2435 A.D.
"Your father… Heloth was half human, half Luminia," Julia said softly, her tone tinged with both pride and regret. "When we came together as one, he chose to take my tribal name—Solenne. But his beliefs… they were his own." She folded her hands in her lap, eyes reflecting faint golden ripples from the Resonance Pool. "Heloth believed that for our race to survive truly, we would need to adapt—to evolve until the boundary between humanity and Luminia no longer existed."
"Socket and Core interface," Ellira murmured. She knew exactly what her mother meant. As a child, she'd been examined countless times by resonance scholars who marveled at her hybrid anatomy. Unlike pure Luminia, Ellira had both a Core Node—the radiant heart of their kind—and a natural Socket lattice, the human organ system that allowed for gem integration. It was an impossibility… and yet, she lived proof of it.
Julia nodded faintly. "Yes. During our union, Tribe Solenne had already begun early research into synthetic socket implants—attempts to graft socket compatibility into Luminian physiology. Your father expanded upon that, creating his own research initiative: Project Dawnmirror. It was his vision, his obsession."
Ellira leaned forward, listening intently.
"Dawnmirror's goal," Julia continued, "was to integrate the human genome into Luminian biology—not to replace it, but to mirror it. To create a bridge between both species' forms of resonance. The Concord sanctioned his experiments at first, viewing them as harmless theoretical genetics. For years, he failed. But then…" Her voice faltered. "He found a method. He theorized that the genome had to be introduced before the Luminis Core began forming—at the embryonic stage."
Ellira's expression darkened. "He tested it… on us."
Julia closed her eyes. "Yes."
Silence filled the chamber, heavy and living. The hum of the barrier weave around them seemed to fade into stillness.
"He reasoned," Julia went on quietly, "that his own offspring would stand the best chance of survival. You and Xerna were already twenty-five percent human through him. He believed that if he could graft the human genome sequence at conception, it would harmonize instead of reject."
Her hands trembled slightly as she spoke, though her voice remained steady. "He was right. You and your sister survived the full term. You were born with perfect resonance alignment—half human, half Luminia. But the Core you carried…" She looked at Ellira then, her gaze filled with both awe and fear. "…was stronger than any pureblood Luminian could imagine. Too strong. You and Xerna were living proof that his theory worked—and a threat to everything the Concord believed about purity."
Ellira sat motionless, absorbing every word.
"When he revealed his theories," Julia continued, "the Concord panicked. They saw danger in what he'd done, not progress. They forbade any further research and shut Dawnmirror down. But your father…" Her voice wavered. "…he couldn't stop. He continued the work in secret. He wanted to create more hybrids—children who could survive on both worlds."
"And when they found out," Ellira said softly, already knowing the answer.
Julia nodded, the light in her eyes dimming. "He was forced to flee. They erased his records, burned his name from the archives, and branded him a traitor to the Concord. That was when Dawnmirror died."
"So that's why he was gone," Ellira said quietly, the pieces beginning to fall into place.
"Yes," Julia replied, her voice barely above a whisper. The faint hum of the Resonance Pool filled the silence between them, each ripple reflecting the weight of her words.
"And the experiments—his subjects?" Ellira pressed, her tone sharper now.
Julia's expression darkened. "He took them with him," she said. "Every last one. He refused to let the Purist factions have them. They would've seen those hybrids as abominations—failures to be erased." She exhaled slowly, the memory cutting deep. "You and your sister were spared only because no one knew what you truly were. They believed your sockets were a hereditary mutation, a quirk of your father's Luminarion bloodline."
She hesitated, her gaze softening. "It also helped that my brother—your uncle—was Chief of the Solenne tribe at the time. And I was under the protection of…"
"Master Serath," Ellira whispered, realization dawning.
Julia nodded. "Yes. She shielded us when questions began to rise."
Ellira leaned forward, her voice trembling between anger and disbelief. "So Father fled and later resurfaced working for Celestex… on Project Heliospire. A continuation of Dawnmirror. A project where thousands of humans and Luminia were experimented on—torn apart, fused, reshaped in the name of progress." Her breath shook. "What about Xerna, Mother? What part did she play in all of this? Please… if you know anything—tell me."
Julia's eyes flickered with pain. "I… I don't know much," she admitted, her tone breaking for the first time. "You know your sister. Xerna was always headstrong and fearless. She carried a purpose even as a child—a vision she thought she had to fulfill."
"Coexistence," Ellira whispered, her throat tight.
Julia nodded slowly. "Yes. She wanted to bridge the divide—to make sure Father's dream didn't die with him. But the two of you… You never had a normal childhood here on the Mothership. Even with my name and status, you were treated differently. Whispers followed you everywhere. Xerna… she took those wounds and turned them into conviction. I think she inherited your father's fire, his belief that light could be reshaped through struggle."
She paused, her gaze distant. "That's why she joined the Choir Veil—to fight for the dream of unity he left behind. At first, I thought she had found her path, that maybe she could change the Concord from within." Julia's voice faltered, a tremor slipping through her composed tone. "But something changed in her. I think… she saw too much. The hypocrisy, the greed, the cruelty. And it broke her faith."
Ellira's heart pounded in her chest. "She turned rogue."
Julia nodded, the glow in her eyes dimming. "Yes. That's what they told me—that she defected. That she betrayed the Choir." Her hands clenched in her lap. "They said she died during a failed raid six years ago. I wanted to believe it was quick, that she didn't suffer."
Her voice broke then, soft and aching. "But part of me always wondered… if she was still out there, lost between the light and the dark—like her father."
She was out there—somewhere in New Boston. The thought pulsed in Ellira's mind like a heartbeat she couldn't silence. Xerna. Her sister, alive after all these years, and somehow tied to the bombing of the Hall of Radiance… and to the death of Malcolm Hynes.
But why?
Why would Xerna kill him? What had happened to her in those lost six years? The questions swirled inside Ellira, sharp and relentless, carving through the fragile calm she'd held onto. Only Xerna could answer them—and Ellira intended to find her.
She rose from her seat abruptly, the chair humming softly in response. The motion caught her mother's attention; Julia looked up, the light around her dimming as if sensing her daughter's resolve.
"Ellira?" she asked gently.
Ellira hesitated, her thoughts tangled between anger and sorrow. She didn't know how to feel—not about her father's hidden past, not about the truth of her own creation, and least of all about her mother's silence. Six years of lies, six years of believing her twin was dead.
She forced a small, brittle smile. "Thank you, Mother… for telling me the truth," she said quietly.
"Ell—" Julia started, but Ellira was already moving toward the door. The luminous threshold parted before her, spilling golden light across her retreating form.
She didn't look back.
Right now, she couldn't. Not when her heart felt split between two worlds—between the mother who had deceived her for protection and the sister who had turned the world upside down.
For now, she needed distance. Space to think. Space to breathe.
And as the door of light closed behind her, Julia sat in silence, the soft hum of the residence fading into stillness—like a song that had lost its final note.
****
Unveiled Choir base
New Boston, North Atlantic Federation Zone
Western Hemisphere,
United Earth Federation
2435 A.D
Xerna emerged from Archie's Starlight Gate, the portal collapsing behind her in a wash of silver light. She stumbled once before catching herself, breath ragged, her body screaming from the aftermath of the battle.
The Lumenpad she'd torn from Elias's arm was still clutched in her hand, its interface flickering weakly against her palm. The rain that had followed her through the gateway streaked across torn armor plates, revealing pale skin beneath the shredded underlayer of her combat dress. Shallow cuts traced her shoulders and ribs, their edges already knitting back together—the faint glow of Lumenis regeneration coursing through her veins, mending her piece by piece.
Across the upper platform, Nine watched in silence. His gaze followed her as she straightened, his expression unreadable but his eyes intense. He had already seen the outcome in the threads of probability, yet witnessing it unfold still unsettled him.
Elias Vasselheim had met every prediction. And survived. Nine's lips tightened. That bastard Dynasty-born—so human, yet so refined in battle—had matched her. Equaled her. The thought lingered like static in his mind.
Still, there was something in the way he looked at Xerna—something almost reverent. He respected her beyond reason, his loyalty balanced on the edge of devotion and awe.
"It seems Agent Vasselheim truly is a threat to our goal," a deep voice rumbled from beside him.
Nine turned his head. Standing at his shoulder was a massive, dark-skinned man with silver tribal markings carved along his bare arms. Each mark shimmered faintly under the overhead light, the power beneath his skin pulsing with restrained violence.
"Diego," Nine said, arching an eyebrow. "Are you interested in fighting him?"
Diego grinned—a slow, eager smile that didn't reach his eyes. "As a warrior, a true battle with a powerful foe is all I seek."
Nine sighed, rolling his eyes before turning back toward the platform. "Of course you are."
He leaned against the railing, watching as Xerna crossed the chamber below. Her steps were slow but steady, the exhaustion in her body hidden behind the discipline in her posture. The soft hum of machines filled the operations room, operators seated at terminals projecting streams of data and surveillance feeds onto curved screens.
Without a word, Xerna entered the heart of the room. Conversations quieted, and every gaze turned toward her as she passed. Even battered and bloodstained, she carried the air of command—her presence cutting through the sterile light like a blade.
In the center of the operations room stood a massive machine surrounded by technicians. Mechanical arms whirred and clicked, welding components under arcs of blue light while engineers monitored readings on floating holographic panels. The air hummed with energy and tension—a heartbeat of creation and danger intertwined.
Among the workers, one figure stood out. His presence wasn't loud, but felt—a quiet, heavy pressure that only those with finely tuned senses would notice. The others went about their tasks unaware, but Xerna felt it immediately.
She turned.
A tall man stood by the main control console, his posture composed and deliberate. Pointed ears framed his sharp features; long golden hair fell to his shoulders, reflecting the machinery's pale light. His skin bore intricate golden markings—patterns identical to Xernia's own, though age had deepened them into sigils of wisdom and burden.
When their eyes met, concern and quiet disapproval crossed his face. Father and daughter regarded each other in silence.
"You should have left it to Nine to acquire," Heloth Aurel Solenne said at last, his voice calm but edged with authority.
Heloth—the mind behind Project Dawnmirror and Project Heliospire. The man whose brilliance had built miracles and destroyed lives in equal measure. And yet, in this moment, the concern in his gaze softened him, blurring the line between scientist and father.
"I had to do it myself," Xerna said evenly. "Besides, I was the only one who could."
"I know," Heloth replied, folding his hands behind his back. "And I also know how hard it was for you. I know the history you two share."
Her jaw tightened. "Can we… not talk about it?"
That part of her life—of him—was something she had buried six years ago. Heloth sighed quietly, nodding once before redirecting his attention to the towering device behind him.
"How is the machine?" she asked, forcing her voice steady. "Will it work?"
"I've done the best I can with the limited resources we have," Heloth said. "It's nowhere near the quality of the original Heliospire Malcolm and I designed, but it should suffice for the next phase."
Xerna's eyes narrowed. "A trigger bomb."
Heloth inclined his head slightly. "All we need now is a power source strong enough to ignite it. We've already exhausted every Gem we had in storage, and the remaining ones aren't capable of the yield we require. What we need is—"
"It's right here," Xerna interrupted, raising the Lumenpad in her hand. Its screen flickered weakly, still holding the encrypted data from Elias's device. "I'll give it to Archie. She'll extract what we need."
A shadow passed over them as the door to the operations bay slid open.
Diego stepped in, his massive frame filling the entryway. The light from the overhead lamps traced the silver markings along his arms, each line pulsing faintly with stored power.
Xerna glanced his way. "Gather your men. It's time for you to act, Diego."
A grin split his face, wolfish and eager. "About time," he said, cracking his knuckles as he turned to leave.
The hum of the machines grew louder, as if responding to the weight of what had just been set in motion.
****
Elias home
New Boston, North Atlantic Federation arc zone
Western Hemisphere,
United Earth Federation
2435 A.D.
The atmosphere of New Boston was not pretty. Days had passed, and the city was still in its lockdown phase. The Amber Vigil Protocol was still in effect, and now the people were getting tired. Streets once full of noise and movement had turned sluggish, the air heavy with unease. Patrol drones swept across the gray skies, their red lights glinting off the damp steel of skyscrapers. Barricades lined every major street, and GSA agents moved in squads, their presence a constant reminder that the city was still under watch.
What made it worse was the mood. Perception toward the government and the Luminia had hit an all-time low, with the latter suffering most of the backlash.
Radical groups and activists had started to show themselves, flooding the networks with speeches, pamphlets, and street gatherings. Their words were venom dressed as patriotism, turning public sentiment against the Luminia with every broadcast. Since the aliens' arrival on Earth, people had always been divided about them. The religious saw them as celestial beings—messengers of higher light. The pragmatists, as living opportunities—partners in science, technology, and gemcraft. But the third group, the bigots, had never gone away. They wanted the Luminia gone for good.
And now, with the city weak and afraid, they had found their moment.
The five major corporate dynasties—Vasselheim, Aurion, Celestex, Hynes, and Durin—had long tolerated the Luminia, even profited from them. That alliance had kept the radicals quiet for years. However, alliances had their limits, and faith in power was fading rapidly.
The angry crowds gathered in the lower sectors, their chants rising beneath the amber lights of the lockdown. Their voices echoed off steel walls, spreading through the alleys like sparks ready to ignite. The time they had waited for—the time to rise, to push back—had finally come.
Naia watched the protests unfolding outside the Hall of Radiance in the Solar Promenade District. The once-lustrous plaza—lined with glass pylons and shimmering banners—was now drowned in noise. Holographic signs flickered through the haze of smoke and neon, bearing slogans that pulsed with anger and fear. Chanting voices rose in waves, echoing through the district as GSA drones hovered above, scanning the crowd for potential violence.
Beside her in the GSA envoy, Neru sat quietly, hands folded in her lap. She had taken on a human guise through her glamour weave, her luminous skin now appearing carbon-based, the glow beneath it dimmed to a faint shimmer. The transformation made her seem almost human—except for the subtle pointed ears and the faint tribal markings etched along her neck, the telltale traces of her Luminia heritage.
Naia glanced at her. Even in disguise, Neru's presence carried a serene beauty, a stillness that contrasted the chaos outside. But Naia could feel it—the glamour weave was stifling her, muting her Luminis energy to maintain the illusion. The restriction was like a dull ache in the air.
The envoy turned down the elevated causeway leading into Crown Spire Residential, where the towering glass structures gave way to cleaner, quieter streets. They finally stopped before a familiar building.
Elias' residence.
He was already waiting by the doorway when they arrived. His coat was off, his shirt rolled at the sleeves, and exhaustion lined his expression. When his gaze fell on Neru, he raised an eyebrow, though Naia had already mentioned her in her earlier message.
"Elias," Naia said, stepping out first. "This is Neru Veyra. Neru, this is my brother—Elias Vasselheim."
"The Veyra Tribe," Elias said, his voice thoughtful. "I've heard your kind can breach the Resonant Network."
"We can," Neru replied calmly as they stepped inside. Her tone carried no arrogance—just truth.
The interior of the home was neat, quiet, and almost ascetic. Lumen lights hummed softly along the walls as they walked through the main hall and into the living room. Someone was already there.
Ryn, the tracker specialist.
He sat cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by faint, flowing streams of Lumenis energy that drifted around him like smoke drawn to a flame. His eyes were closed, his breathing steady, his aura resonating in rhythm with the pulse of the house's gem grid.
"That's Ryn," Elias explained. "He's a Resonant creature—a tracker specialist. He's helping us locate our enemies."
Ryn opened one eye briefly, acknowledging them with a nod before returning to his meditation.
Once they had all settled, Elias began recounting everything that had happened since Naia and Neru had left for Auralis Haven—his confrontation with Nine, his encounter with Xerna, and the fragments of intelligence he had pieced together.
Naia listened in silence, then projected a holo-display from her arm's embedded gem core, showing Elias the data Neru had extracted from the Celestex Archives—classified files from Project Heliospire.
Elias leaned forward, scanning through the images and code strings, the documents flashing across his field of vision.
"This… this explains a lot," he said slowly. "Nine was a terrorist the GSA captured over fifty years ago. The records said he was an old man, over five centuries in age. But the one I fought… he looked younger. Faster. Stronger. And he was using Luminis Weave like—"
He stopped mid-sentence. The realization hit him like a strike of lightning. His thoughts flashed back to Xerna. The cutting ability she had displayed. It had not been the application of a weave, but a Facet Art.
Which meant…
Naia's voice broke the silence. "So they killed Malcolm because of what he did to them."
Elias said nothing at first. He looked down at the holographic file still flickering before him—the images of the test subjects, the archived notes from Celestex scientists—and felt a cold weight settle in his chest.
"I want to know why Celestex shut down the project," Elias said at last, breaking the silence. His tone was firm, measured—but the tension in his jaw betrayed the anger simmering beneath. He turned toward Neru, who was still seated beside the holoscreen. "Can you still hack into their off-site archive?"
"Sure," Neru replied, pushing back a strand of her silver-tinted hair. "But I'll need some assistance." Her eyes flicked toward Naia. "Your sister's ability can help speed things up. I can focus on weaving a concealment weave to mask our presence while she synchronizes with the network."
Elias nodded once. "Do it."
Naia rose to join Neru, but before she could step away, her gaze caught Elias's. Something unsettled her about his calmness—how composed he seemed after everything he had told them. She reached out and grabbed his arm.
"What about your comm pad?" she asked. "Aren't you wondering why they led you into that fight—just to steal your Lumenpad?"
Elias paused. She was right. The device they'd taken wasn't ordinary; it was GSA-approved—encrypted, traceable, and loaded with internal clearance data. Reporting its theft was mandatory protocol. But if he reported it, the investigation would trigger a trace… and that would inevitably lead the GSA straight to Xerna.
"Not yet," he said quietly, giving her hand a brief, reassuring squeeze.
Naia blinked, caught off guard by the gesture. She studied him closely. The story he'd told them—the fight with the leader of the group that had killed Malcolm—didn't sit right with her. She knew her brother's strength. If he had truly gone all out, no one short of a Crown-tier fighter should've survived.
If he couldn't finish the fight, that meant only two things: the enemy was far beyond his level… or Elias was hiding something.
She'd seen it in his eyes when he spoke—how his expression faltered for a heartbeat when he mentioned Xerna. How his voice had dipped, almost imperceptibly. He was troubled, though he tried not to show it.
With a quiet sigh, Naia released his arm and turned toward Neru. "Let's get started."
They spent the next several hours combing through layers of Celestex's encrypted archives. Lines of code and data sheets hovered around them like ghosts, filling the living room with soft luminescent projections. Neru guided the infiltration, her fingers moving fluidly through the holographic interface as Naia assisted, her Lumenis network threading into the Resonant grid to accelerate the decryption process.
By late afternoon, the two had sifted through hundreds of archived files—scientific reports, failed prototypes, personnel transfers—but no clear explanation as to why Project Heliospire had been abandoned.
Eventually, they took a break. The air smelled faintly of burned circuits and reheated food.
"So," Neru said between bites of noodles, "you can only access GSA-approved networks?"
Naia nodded. "Yes. Specifically, Vasselheim's internal network. Every major corporation carved out a segment of space within the Resonant Network for itself. Since I'm part of the Vasselheim bloodline, I can connect to it directly—no device required."
Neru tilted her head. "And since the GSA's infrastructure runs on that network…"
"Since it's owned by the Vasselheim Corporation," Neru finished for her. "So by default, you have access."
Naia frowned slightly. "We don't own the GSA. It's supposed to be a neutral party within the UEF."
Neru gave a faint, knowing smile. "It was founded by your family. That kind of legacy doesn't disappear just because a committee says so."
Naia opened her mouth to respond—but the faint chime of her Lumenpad interrupted her. A message flashed across the screen, glowing softly. Her breath caught when she saw the sender. It was Ellira. She was back on Earth. Docked at the TRR Spur Station in Crown Harbor.
Naia stood up abruptly, her chair scraping lightly against the floor. The sudden movement drew Elias's attention from the corner of the room, where he had been seated in quiet meditation.
"Ellira's back," Naia said, already grabbing her jacket. "I'm going to pick her up."
Elias nodded, opening his eyes fully. "Be careful. The city's still unstable."
Naia gave a quick, determined nod before heading for the door, her prosthetic hand tightening slightly as if in anticipation.
****
The TRR Spur Station loomed ahead, a gleaming monument of glass and steel at the edge of the Crown Harbor District. Even in the lingering haze of the city's lockdown, it pulsed with the hum of movement—transit lights flickering across the docks, airships docking and departing in staggered rhythm, the salty tang of the harbor carried on the wind.
Naia stepped out of the auto-car, her boots striking the concrete as she adjusted her coat. The sky above the Helios Gate Terminal was a soft amber-gray, the last rays of daylight bleeding through the clouds. Despite the bustling sound of machinery, something about the place felt… hollow.
Her eyes scanned the parking lot until she spotted a familiar figure leaning against a low wall near the terminal entrance. Ellira.
She looked almost the same as the day she left—elegant yet unguarded, her silver hair gleaming faintly under the streetlights. When she saw Naia, she straightened, a small, relieved smile touching her lips.
"You made it," Ellira said, her voice soft but warm.
"Of course," Naia said softly, stepping closer.
She could feel it—something in Ellira's aura had shifted, a quiet tremor rippling beneath her surface. Normally, even with her heightened empathy, Ellira's emotions were like starlight behind glass—visible but distant, restrained by her natural Luminian composure. But now that barrier was gone. Naia could sense everything: the agitation in her breathing, the sorrow trembling behind her heartbeat, the storm gathering in her chest.
"Is everything okay?" Naia asked, her voice steady but warm.
Ellira looked up. Her golden eyes caught the light from the station's hovering lamps, reflecting a mix of exhaustion and grief. For a heartbeat, she didn't answer—just stared at Naia's lilac eyes, realizing she could no longer hide behind her calm façade. Her lips parted as if to speak, but only a shuddered breath escaped.
Then the tears came.
Naia's concern deepened. Without thinking, she closed the distance and wrapped her arms around Ellira, pulling her close. Ellira stiffened for a moment, then broke, her body trembling against Naia's as she buried her face into her shoulder. The scent of salt and ozone lingered between them—the faint trace of Luminis energy reacting to emotion. Naia held her tighter, saying nothing. Sometimes silence was the only comfort that worked.
When Ellira finally began to calm, Naia guided her gently toward the car. The night around the Helios Gate Station had grown quiet again—just the hum of distant transit lines and the faint shimmer of ocean light spilling from Crown Harbor. Inside the vehicle, the soft glow of the dashboard painted Ellira's face in pale blue. She looked drained, but her eyes carried the resolve of someone ready to stop hiding.
"I should have told you earlier," Ellira began, her voice low and uneven. "About what I've been feeling—about what I found."
Naia said nothing, just nodded, her hand resting on Ellira's arm.
Ellira drew in a deep breath. "I sensed her, Naia. My sister. I felt her presence that day… at the Hall of Radiance, before the bombing." Her gaze drifted out the window, eyes unfocused as if she were seeing it all over again—the heat, the blinding light, the resonance in the air that had nearly overwhelmed her. "I thought I was imagining it. But it was real."
Naia's fingers tightened slightly. "Your sister? You mean—"
Ellira nodded. "She's alive. And it all connects back to Project Heliospire."
Naia frowned, listening intently as Ellira continued.
"Heliospire wasn't just an experiment in hybrid resonance—it was a continuation of another project. The one that created me." Her voice grew quieter, as if saying it aloud solidified the truth. "Project Dawnmirror. My father, Heloth Solenne, was one of the chief architects of both. Dawnmirror was the prototype… Heliospire was the expansion."
Naia stared at her, stunned into silence.
Ellira exhaled shakily. "I… didn't mean to keep that from you or Elias. I didn't even know how to explain it. My father made my sister and me test subjects for mirror resonance. We were born to be reflections of one another—two halves of the same light." Her eyes glistened as she turned back to Naia. "And now I think Project Heliospire tried to recreate that process on a larger scale… on humans."
The words hung heavy in the air. Naia leaned back in her seat, letting it all settle—the revelation, the threads tying everything together. It explained the strange resonance anomalies, the experiments Celestex had buried, even the link between the Solenne tribe and the UEF's hidden research.
Ellira's voice faltered, barely above a whisper. "I… I didn't mean to keep all that from you and Elias. About my suspicions."
Naia reached out and took her hand. "It's okay," she said gently. "You don't have to carry it alone anymore."
For the first time that night, Ellira smiled faintly—a small, fragile thing—but real. The kind of smile that comes after years of silence breaking.
They sat there in silence, the low hum of the car engine filling the space between them. Naia kept her hand over Ellira's, her thumb tracing gentle circles across her skin. The link between them wasn't just emotional anymore—it was tangible.
Through the faint, lingering empathetic bond they had formed during their battle against the Celestex assassins, Naia could feel the depth of Ellira's turmoil—the swirl of guilt, fear, and quiet sorrow that she tried so hard to hide. But what surprised Ellira was that she could feel Naia's emotions, too: calm, compassion, and an aching sadness that reached deeper than words. It made her chest tighten.
Ellira glanced down at Naia's hand, then at the smooth crystalline arm connected to her shoulder. The faint glow of its inner veins reflected softly against the dashboard light, each facet pulsing with restrained energy. She had seen synthetic limbs before—utilitarian, mechanical, devoid of warmth—but Naia's was different. The craftsmanship was elegant, alive, almost organic.
Still, Ellira couldn't help wondering. How had she lost it?
Humans couldn't regenerate like the Luminia or the Resonant lifeforms. Even with Gemtech reconstruction or Luminis-based healing, once a limb was gone, it stayed gone. That was why humans had turned to prosthetics—to mimic the miracle of natural restoration that came so easily to others.
The Gem Arm, Naia's prosthetic, was not an ordinary device. It was a synthetic gem, grown and refined in one of the Vasselheim Corporation's weapons R&D divisions—a creation both practical and personal. The gem embedded in its core was a Weapon Gem, a rare kind of engineered crystal meant for combat resonance and channeling energy. It was the mark of her house—the same technological lineage that produced Elias's Saber of Conviction.
Naia noticed Ellira's gaze and smiled faintly, lifting the arm slightly so the light caught its surface. "It was my graduation exam," she said quietly, sensing Ellira's unspoken question.
Ellira looked up. "Graduation exam?"
Naia nodded, her eyes distant. "We were stationed in one of the Treaty Enclaves, near the European Zone. The mission was simple—guard a shipment of raw Gems being transferred from a Resonant mine. Nothing special. It was supposed to be routine."
Her tone darkened as she looked at her right arm, her fingers brushing against the transparent lines of its surface. "My father personally requested the arm's creation after it happened. Said it would help me recover. He was right… in a way."
Ellira waited, silent but attentive.
"There was a radical group in the area," Naia continued. "They called themselves Bojoux. Ex-mercenaries and gem smugglers. The GSA had been hunting them for years—they specialized in hijacking Gem transports and reselling the stones to black-market forges. We were there to make sure they didn't hit the convoy."
Her voice grew quieter, almost a whisper. "But they did."
Naia's eyes flickered with memory—the sound of gunfire, the pulse of resonance grenades detonating, the blinding flare of Luminis discharge cutting through the night.
"They came for us at dawn. Half my unit was wiped out before we could even form a defensive perimeter. I tried to hold the line, but…" She flexed her gem arm unconsciously, the crystalline plates glinting faintly. "One of their leaders used a Flux disruptor—ripped through my shield field and my arm with it."
Ellira's eyes softened, her golden irises dimming. "And the rest?"
Naia exhaled slowly, her voice trembling just enough to betray the pain beneath. "We managed to push them back when reinforcements arrived, but by then it was too late. I lost my team… and my arm."
She fell silent for a moment. The car's interior light cast a faint shimmer across her features, illuminating the faint scars along her collarbone where metal met flesh.
Ellira reached out and touched the edge of Naia's prosthetic. "It's beautiful," she said softly. "And strong."
Naia smiled, though her eyes held a shadow. "It has to be."
For a while, neither of them spoke. The bond between them pulsed gently, their shared emotions intertwining—a quiet, unspoken understanding that didn't need words.
Outside, the Crown Harbor lights shimmered over the water like a thousand fractured stars, and somewhere beneath that tranquil surface, both women carried the weight of what had been taken—and what they still had left.
A single heartbeat stretched between them—silent, taut, charged with something neither of them could name.
Naia's breath caught as her lilac eyes met Ellira's molten gold. There was a gravity between them, an invisible pull that drew the air tighter, heavier. Naia didn't understand why her chest felt like it was fluttering or why her pulse quickened just from looking at her. All she knew was that every instinct in her body urged her closer.
Ellira didn't move. Her breath trembled, her eyes flicking down briefly to Naia's lips, then back up. The empathetic link between them pulsed like a live wire, sharing every flicker of confusion and desire. The Luminian part of her understood resonance and energy, but not this—this strange, fragile heat spreading through her core.
Naia leaned in, close enough to feel Ellira's warmth, close enough for her reflection to shimmer faintly in Ellira's eyes. For one breathless moment, neither moved. The world seemed to narrow to just that small distance—
—until a violent pulse of light shattered it.
The brilliance burst through the parking lot like a flash grenade, searing their vision. Naia threw an arm up to shield her eyes. Her senses screamed—an incoming projectile.
"Down!" she shouted.
Without hesitation, Naia hurled herself at Ellira, tackling her to the ground just as the vehicle behind them erupted into a deafening explosion. The shockwave rippled across the lot, scattering shards of glass and flaming debris. The air was thick with smoke and the acrid scent of burning fuel.
They rolled across the pavement, Naia pulling Ellira close to shield her from the worst of it. The instant the explosion faded, Naia looked up—her prosthetic arm gleaming in the orange glow of the wreck.
A portal hung open in midair above the ruins of their car, its edges twisting like fractured mirrors. Through it stepped a squad of masked assailants, dressed head to toe in black, sleek combat suits reinforced with Gem-armor plating. Their weapons hummed with gemstone energy, the muzzle tips glowing faintly.
Then she felt him.
The air trembled, the ground beneath them vibrating as a vast surge of power filled the station. A massive figure stepped through the portal last—a man towering over the rest, his armor plated with dense, obsidian facets that radiated dark blue light. The energy rolling off him was crushing, heavy, unmistakable.
Crown Tier.
The sheer density of it pressed against Naia's lungs, constricting the air. The terrifying part wasn't the scale—it was the control. His power didn't spill wildly through the station. It was contained, compacted into a perfect shell that pressed down on everything within its reach.
Ellira's Luminis core flared instinctively. Her eyes widened as she analyzed the energy signature. It wasn't human. It wasn't Luminian. It wasn't even Resonant. And yet… the frequency, the pulse—it mirrored her own essence.
She knew exactly what he was.
"Leave the Luminia," the man ordered, his deep voice echoing through the chaos. "Get the girl."
The soldiers obeyed instantly, rushing toward Naia. Ellira tried to move, but Naia stepped forward without hesitation, her expression hardening into battle focus.
A white glow flared from her prosthetic arm as the gem embedded in her wrist shifted configuration. Plates unfolded, shaping themselves into a slender, luminous blade that extended past her elbow—a weapon born from pure energy resonance.
She didn't wait for them to close in.
Naia charged.
A burst of white light exploded from her movement, slicing through the smoke. In an instant, the attackers were engulfed by a storm of arcs—flashes of light tracing curved paths through the air. When the motion stopped, the soldiers fell in pieces, their armor cleaved cleanly apart before their bodies even hit the ground.
Gunfire erupted, but Naia was already gone, her movements blurring faster than their eyes could follow. Bullets tore through afterimages of light. She appeared among them like a phantom, her gem blade sweeping through flesh and armor alike.
One by one, they collapsed—disarmed, dismembered, destroyed. From the edge of the chaos, the Crown-tier warrior—Diego—watched with grim fascination. His armor hummed with power as he stepped forward, the air distorting around his massive frame.
"Impressive," he rumbled, his tone almost admiring. "For a human."
Naia barely turned before his fist blurred through the air. The impact was cataclysmic—her body shattered in a burst of light, disintegrating under the raw kinetic pulse that tore through the station. The shockwave cracked the pavement, sending Ellira tumbling backward.
Diego stared down at his glowing fist, cracks of energy still crawling across the armor. The shimmering fragments of Naia's form scattered like glass dust.
He frowned. "A duplicate," he muttered. He turned his gaze toward the real Naia, still crouched protectively over Ellira several meters away, eyes blazing. "Is that a Facet of your gem?"
Naia said nothing, rising to her feet as the remnants of the illusion faded.
The truth was, it wasn't part of her bloodline at all. The duplication technique was something she'd developed with Neru's help—a clever trick adapted from the Luminian Mirror Reflection Weave, which Neru had once demonstrated to her. It was a diversion, a sleight of hand with light and resonance.
Diego tilted his head slightly, his tone turning thoughtful. "No… You're a member of the Vasselheim Dynasty. Duplication isn't part of your lineage."
He was right. Members of the corporate dynasties weren't ordinary Gemcrafters. Each bore a bloodline gem, an innate crystal embedded within the heart socket at birth—a divine inheritance that marked them as different. Ordinary Gemcrafters at the Grit tier could craft gems, but they weren't born with them.
That distinction—between the dynasty-born and the forged—was what made Naia Vasselheim dangerous. And Diego had just realized he might have underestimated her.
"Her Facet Art is truly something else."
The voice drifted from the still-glimmering portal—soft, feminine, and laced with familiarity. Diego stepped aside without a word, his massive frame shifting to make room for the new arrival.
The air trembled as she emerged.
Ellira froze. The instant the figure stepped through, she felt it—a pulse deep within her chest, like a heartbeat answering her own. The bond between them—the twin resonance of shared origin—flared to life so violently it nearly stole her breath. The energy in the station shifted, the atmosphere thickening as another Crown-tier aura joined Diego's, the two forces weaving together like colliding storms.
Naia staggered under the weight of it. The pressure was suffocating, crushing down on her ribs as if a mountain had materialized atop her. Before it could break her, Ellira's own aura burst outward, wrapping around Naia like a cocoon of golden light. The weight lessened, replaced by the warmth of Ellira's protection.
"Why don't you show your face, Xerna?" Ellira said, her voice steady despite the tremor in her chest.
The armored woman reached up, touching the side of her helmet. It unfolded with a hiss, the metal plates retracting into her suit like liquid.
Naia gasped.
The woman's face was identical to Ellira's—same sharp cheekbones, same celestial symmetry—but with stark, haunting differences. Where Ellira's hair shimmered gold under the light, Xerna's was black as obsidian, cascading down her shoulders like ink. Her eyes, too, were different—deep crimson burning with something fierce and sorrowful. Even the tribal markings etched along her cheekbones had altered shapes, jagged and flowing where Ellira's were smooth and balanced.
If not for those details, Naia would have thought she was seeing double.
"Ellira…" Xerna's voice softened, breaking the silence. "It's good to see you. I've missed you."
Ellira's golden eyes widened, a mix of disbelief and heartbreak flickering across her face. "So… it really was you."
Xerna nodded slowly. "Yes. I'm sorry you had to hear the truth from her—from Mother."
Ellira's lips parted. "How… how did you know she told me?" Then realization struck her, cold and sharp. "You've been in contact with her, haven't you?"
Xerna didn't deny it. She simply looked away, her expression shadowed. "I'll explain everything later," she said quietly. "But right now, my business isn't with you, sister." Her eyes shifted toward Naia, crimson light reflecting against the Gem Arm. "It's with the Dynasty-born girl—Naia Vasselheim."
Ellira's reaction was instant. She stepped in front of Naia, physically pushing her behind. "What do you want with her?"
Naia's pulse quickened as Ellira's aura flared around them, golden energy spiraling like protective wings. The situation was hopeless—two Crown-tier Luminiaron, both stronger than any human could hope to match. Even Ellira, powerful as she was, couldn't take them both at once.
She summoned her staff with a flash of light, the Lumenis along its length resonating with her core. But before she could finish the first motion of her weave, a sharp, dissonant tone filled the air.
Ellira's body convulsed. Pain lanced through her chest as the Lumenis flow in the atmosphere turned against her command, resisting her control. The backlash struck her nervous system like lightning, forcing her to her knees.
"Ellira!" Naia caught her before she hit the ground, but her panic lasted only an instant.
Diego moved.
In less than a blink, his massive figure blurred. Naia barely had time to register the distortion before his fist struck her square in the abdomen. The impact sent a sonic boom through the air—her body lifted clean off the ground, air forced from her lungs. A strangled cry escaped as she was caught midair by his other hand, his gauntlet closing gently but firmly around her throat.
The world swam. Naia's vision blurred as she coughed, spit and bile spilling past her lips from the sheer pressure of the blow. Her body hung limp, the Gem Arm sparking erratically as she struggled to stay conscious.
"Naia!" Ellira tried to rise, but her body refused to obey. Every attempt to gather Lumenis only sent another wave of agony through her.
Xerna stepped closer, holding a small, circular device in her hand. Its surface pulsed with concentric waves of distorted light, emitting a harmonic hum that rippled through the air.
Naia recognized it instantly—a Lumenis Disruptor, a human-made anti-Luminian weapon. Its frequency tore through the atmosphere, unraveling any weave formation in its range. For a Luminian, the sensation was excruciating—their own core turning against them, the energy meant to sustain them now thrashing like a wild current. Ellira clutched her chest, gasping as pain shot through her veins.
"You're using that against your own sister?" Naia rasped, forcing the words through her constricted throat.
Xerna's crimson eyes flickered, guilt and determination clashing within them. "I don't want to hurt her," she said softly. "But I can't let her interfere."
The truth was clear in her voice. No matter how powerful Xerna was, she knew Ellira could match her—especially when defending someone she cared about.
Ellira had proven it once before. During the Bombing of the Hall of Radiance, when the building had nearly been annihilated, it was her defensive weaves that saved countless lives. There had been no fatalities among the humans and Luminians. Even the Luminians that had appeared dead weren't truly dead. Not in the typical sense. As long as a Luminia body did not turn to Lumenic dust, they could always be revived through the powerful weave technology in the mothership. So in the end, everyone had survived Xerna's assault.
All except one. Malcolm. And he hadn't died in the blast. He'd died by Xerna's hand. Not the bomb.
For a brief moment, the air was silent except for the low hum of the disruptor. Xerna stood over Ellira, her expression unreadable behind the glow of her crimson eyes. The device continued to emit its harmonic pulse, its sound sharp and hollow, like a broken melody that refused to end.
Then, with a faint flick of her wrist, Xerna deactivated it. The light dimmed, and she let the disruptor fall to the floor beside Ellira's trembling hand.
"I never wanted it to come to this," she said quietly, her voice tinged with something fragile—remorse, maybe, or exhaustion.
Her gaze lingered on Ellira, soft for a heartbeat, then hardened again. Turning away, she glanced toward Diego, who still held Naia by the throat like a doll made of glass.
"Let's go," she said.
Diego nodded, activating his armor's phase shift. A dark ripple spread beneath them as the portal began to reopen.
As the distortion widened, Xerna looked back one last time. Ellira was on her knees, hair falling into her face, her golden aura flickering weakly around her. Their eyes met—one pair gold, the other crimson—mirrored souls split by choices neither had asked for.
Xerna's lips parted, but no words came. Instead, she turned and stepped into the portal, her silhouette fading into the light. Diego followed, vanishing with his captive. The disruptor lay on the ground, its surface still warm, its faint reflection catching Ellira's tears as they fell.