The war room shimmered with holo-screens. Dozens of combat readouts spun above the central table, colored graphs tracing pulse, SYNC Rate, and energy discharge in dizzying complexity. Hana Jin hated briefings that replayed her fights like a sports broadcast, detailing every second of her near-lethal efficiency, but Queen Emica insisted on "transparency."
"Your performance data from the recent relay station retrieval is... exceptional, Jin," the Queen said, turning one projection toward the team. "Let's review the Protocol readouts."
A translucent outline of Hana appeared in the center of the table, overlaid with violently shifting metrics:
[Protocol Level 43 → 45]
[SYNC 82% → 91%]
[Skill Evolution: Blink-Step → Phase Slip]
Itsuki Kido whistled long and low, running his hands over his own much lower stats in dismay. "Nine percent SYNC gain and two Level jumps in one mission? You've been seriously grinding, Jin. Did you find a cheat code or something? That's statistically impossible for a non-royal."
Hana crossed her arms, annoyed by the attention. "I didn't notice."
"That's because you don't check your dashboard, you emotionally stunted weirdo," Chinami Arai said dryly, adjusting her violet drone. "Some of us enjoy watching numbers go up. It's the only reliable source of joy in this hellhole."
Kotaro Sakata actually grinned, a rare, terrifying sight. "She prefers results that bleed, Arai. No need for data when your target is a fine red mist."
Hana turned to Kotaro, her magenta eyes narrowing dangerously. "What the hell does that even mean, Sakata?"
"Enough," Emica said, though a faint, proud smile tugged at her mouth. She waited for the room to settle, then tapped another panel, showing the highly detailed remains of the disintegrated Neptune troopers they had encountered near the abandoned relay station.
[Core Fragment Detected - Red-Type Energy Signature 62% match with Protocol Core-Gems]
Emica's tone hardened, wiping the smile from her face instantly. "These troopers weren't natural. They were heavily grafted with synthetic Core-Gems, our technology, copied and corrupted. The source of the signal wasn't the probe; it was the power signature of these synthetic cores."
Hana frowned, the gravity of the situation sinking in. "Someone stole our research."
"Not someone," Emica replied, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "A network. Malice. Their data encryption matches the probe from orbit. They're distributing these artificial Cores across the outer planets—selling them, weaponizing them, and giving them to everyone we've negotiated treaties with. The Protocol is about to go global, uncontrolled."
"So the real Protocol Core-Gems are still safe?" Itsuki asked, his voice now serious.
"For now," Emica said. "But if they've perfected replication, the originals may be the only stable source of Sovereign Protocol energy left. The stability of Earth's entire defense system rests on them."
Chinami folded her arms, her earlier flippancy gone, replaced by tactical focus. "Meaning Earth's garden just became a primary target. If they get the original cores, they could reverse-engineer the stabilization process and flood the galaxy."
Emica nodded once. "Exactly. Which brings me to your next assignment."
The team followed her down a long corridor lined with heavy, reinforced glass conduits glowing a faint, rich green. The air grew perceptibly warmer and richer, humming with latent energy. At the end, the corridor opened into a colossal, cathedral-like dome—the Queen's Garden.
Vines of crystalline metal wound through silver trellises; pools of liquid, ionized light rippled at their bases. The Protocol Core-Gems floated within, suspended in energy fields. The red ones pulsed like deep heartbeats, promising violent energy. In the center stood the most terrifying sight: a single black Core-Gem, its surface absorbing all color and light around it, a literal singularity of void energy.
"Beautiful," Kotaro whispered, genuinely stunned by the scale of the power on display.
"Terrifying," Chinami corrected, her eyes scanning the security system. "It feels like stepping into a nuclear reactor."
Emica approached the central pedestal, where the black Core-Gem floated. "This is the Nexus Tree, the root of Earth's Core Network. The Core-Gems are its seeds. Each of you will now be assigned a personal Core Key derived from these energies. It will bind directly to your Sovereign Protocol and amplify your SYNC, but remember, misuse or emotional volatility can get you killed. If you fail to maintain control, the Core Key will kill you for us."
Hana stepped closer, feeling the air vibrate against her skin. The energy felt like a missing piece of herself. Her HUD flickered, flashing violently.
[Resonance Detected - Core Affinity: Magenta Spectrum]
[New Trait Unlocked: Solar Pulse (Lv 1)]
She blinked rapidly, trying to clear the unexpected internal message. "Did anyone else see that?"
Chinami glanced over, scanning Hana's external vitals with her drone. "See what? Your heartbeat just jumped to 110. Did you almost die of shock?"
"Nothing," Hana lied smoothly, though a strange, unfamiliar warmth still surged through her veins like concentrated sunlight. She knew instantly this wasn't a standard Protocol Key. It was something unique to her Venusian genetic makeup.
Emica turned back to Hana, her gaze intensely knowing. "Your Venusian physiology makes you unusually compatible with Core energy, Jin. Be cautious; it will tempt you to push too far. That power feels addictive."
"Temptation isn't my problem," Hana said, her voice flat and cold. "I eliminate inefficiency."
Emica met her gaze, stepping even closer. "No, but it would seem control is. Your SYNC surge after this mission wasn't purely skill, Jin. It was triggered by extreme emotion. The Protocol responds to rage and fear very effectively."
The words hit Hana harder than they should have, cutting through her practiced indifference. She turned away, her jaw tightened. The faint magenta pulse in her eyes sharpened for a brief second.
Later, outside the dome, the team walked back in heavy silence until Chinami broke it.
"You glow a little when you're mad, Jin," she said, her voice dangerously low and intimate. "Literally. I saw the energy reading."
Hana glared. "That supposed to be flirting or diagnostics, Arai? Because you need to pick one or the other."
"Bit of both, obviously," Chinami smirked, leaning in. "Your SYNC jumped to 96% when the Queen scolded you about control. That's a massive spike, Jin. You're most powerful when you're losing your cool."
"Means I need to train harder to keep the emotion out," Hana said, refusing to acknowledge the truth.
"Means you do care," Chinami corrected, her voice soft and insistent. "And that vulnerability is... interesting."
For a moment, the hallway hummed only with the sound of distant turbines. Hana didn't answer, but her magenta eyes flickered faintly again before fading. The Core Key was already changing her.
That night, the garden was sealed under triple security. Yet, beyond the atmosphere, a shadow stirred in Neptune's orbit.
In a chamber of dark glass, overlooking a swirling blue gas giant, Queen Rin sat on a throne carved from frozen comet ice. She observed the live feed from a captured, stealth-locked Earth drone. Her eyes, the same shade of magenta as Hana's, focused intensely on the black Core-Gem in the Nexus Tree.
"The Earth's Protocol Core-Gems resonate stronger than projected," she said, her voice a low, chilling melody. "Tell Malice their replicas are unstable. We need the original."
A figure cloaked entirely in static, revealing nothing, bowed deeply. "Yes, Your Majesty. The Empress of Venus will be pleased. She anticipates the fusion of the Protocol energies will stabilize her own SYNC."
Rin smiled, a slow, predatory curve that showed two perfectly pointed fangs. "The path to Venus's return begins with Earth. Their power system is the key to unlocking the true Protocol. And my sister's rage is the key to unlocking their power system."
"And the agent?" the cloaked figure asked.
"Chi is already within the walls," Queen Rin replied, dismissing the figure with a cold gesture. "Now let's take their garden. And their highest-SYNC weapon."