The command center hums with grim coordination. Marines are securing the lower decks and technicians isoting dimensional residue. There are no more screams, just the mechanical rhythm of survival.

  Webb hands you a tablet without preamble. His face says more than words.

  “Full roster of the eleven we pulled out,” he says quietly. “Medical’s finishing stabilization. Most are physically healed thanks to your rings, but… the trauma’s another story.”

  You scroll slowly through the report.

  Albedo (Overlord) — Critical. Essence destabilization from prolonged ritual exposure. Severe psychological trauma from interrogation.Kurumi Tokisaki (Date A Live) — Severe. Temporal abilities locked by anchor resonance. Cognitive damage from forced time-loop containment.Shinobu Oshino (Monogatari) — Critical. Vampiric regeneration suppressed. Blood deprivation over seventy-two hours.Yoruichi Shihōin (Bleach) — Stable. Enhanced healing active. Moderate psychological distress.Nami (One Piece) — Stable. Physical recovery complete. Persistent anxiety and survivor’s guilt.Erza Scarlet (Fairy Tail) — Stable. Mana exhaustion; recovering steadily.Violet Evergarden (Violet Evergarden) — Stable. Prosthetics removed due to regenerative interference; emotional detachment masking trauma.Miyamoto Musashi (Fate/Grand Order) — Stable. Injuries healed. Dimensional strain caused partial sword-soul fracture; physical recovery complete. Dispys calm behavior and high responsiveness to command. Socially engaging, currently assisting other survivors in medical bay. C.C. (Code Geass) — Stable. Immortality prevented lethal experimentation. Evidence of deep psychological conditioning.Sinon (SAO) — Moderate. PTSD exacerbated by captivity; functional awareness returning.Riveria Ljos Alf (DanMachi) — Stable. Magical reserves slowly regenerating.

  The list details physical injuries—broken bones, cerations, burns from restraint systems. Mental status ranges from 'moderate distress' to 'severe dissociation.' Abilities are catalogued with clinical precision. And then the torture methods: sensory deprivation, forced magical extraction, pain compliance through electrical stimution, psychological manipution through manufactured scenarios. Ft torture mixed with bureaucratic words describing deliberate cruelty, logs kept by different individuals.

  Silent fury coils in your chest. You look up at Webb and Reeves.

  "Every single one is a woman," you say ftly. "Every. Single. One."

  Reeves’ eyes harden. "We noticed. Harmon's operation criteria had... specific targeting."

  Webb exhales and brings up a second file on the main holo-dispy. CDC Transition Tracking Log. Twenty-three additional names appear, organized by status.

  Confirmed—status unknown:Sakura Haruno (Naruto) ? Karin Uzumaki (Naruto) ? Edward Elric (Fullmetal Alchemist) ? Riza Hawkeye (Fullmetal Alchemist) ? Kiritsugu Emiya (Fate/Zero) ? Revy (Bck Lagoon) ? Levi Ackerman (Attack on Titan) ? Roronoa Zoro (One Piece)

  Status KIA:Yamcha, Krillin, Chi-Chi (Dragon Ball) ? Mineta Minoru, Bakugo Katsuki, Eijiro Kirishima, Tamaki Amajiki (My Hero Academia) ? Light Yagami, Misa Amane (Death Note) ? Zenitsu Agatsuma, Kamado Tanjiro (Demon Syer) ? Eren Yeager (Attack on Titan) ? Kuwabara Kazuma (Yu Yu Hakusho) ? Shou Tucker (Fullmetal Alchemist) ? Asta (Bck Clover) ? Soma Yukihira (Food Wars!) ? Luffy and Chopper (One Piece) ? Shinji Ikari (Evangelion) ? Usagi Tsukino (Sailor Moon) ? Fry (Futurama) ? Saito Hiraga (The Familiar of Zero) ? Lelouch Lamperouge (Code Geass) ? Rintarou Okabe (Steins;Gate) ? Naruto Uzumaki (Naruto) ? Denji (Chainsaw Man) ? Naru Narusegawa (Love Hina) ? Ichigo Kurosaki (Bleach) ? Rin Okumura (Blue Exorcist)

  The screen glows cold blue across your face as you trace the pattern.Every man, terminated within forty-eight hours of capture. Every woman, redirected to Prometheus Station.

  “He filtered them, it makes sense,” you finally admit, jaw tight and voice low. “Sick, twisted sense, but sense. Men failed resonance testing, eliminated as liabilities; women matched the frequencies, ritual anchors. He turned gender into an equation for sacrifice.”

  "That's our assessment," Reeves confirms. “The Entity required biological resonance tied to reproductive systems. Harmon followed the math, not morality.”

  “And the world paid for his arithmetic,” you answer, heat rising under your ribs.

  Webb says nothing. The silence is heavy enough.

  You check your system interface, focusing on the Telepathy Web enchantment. The magical status responds instantly, connecting to all dimensional travelers currently on the ptform, including the eleven rescued victims recovering in medical bay. "Meeting in the cafeteria in ten minutes, you broadcast mentally, keeping the tone neutral but firm. All dimensional travelers. We’ll expin everything. You deserve the truth. Then we discuss what comes next."

  The responses come back immediately, confusion from some, acknowledgment from others, fear from the traumatized rescued. You sense Asia's presence through the contract bond, her concern flowing through the connection.

  "I'll include this in the meeting, every line of it." you tell Webb and Reeves, gesturing at both documents. "They deserve to know the full scope of what Harmon was doing, I'll wait until Albedo, Kurumi and Shinobu wake up to show those who are interested Harmon's video."

  Webb gives a single curt nod. “Understood. Briefing room will be ready.”

  You gnce at the glowing list, Names, worlds, lives, all folded into a single nightmare of numbers, one st time “If you’re going to share these records,” you add, voice low but edged, “at least have the decency, and the intelligence, to censor the names. They’re survivors, not exhibits.”

  Neither officer argues. The silence that follows is answer enough.

  You step toward the wall-mounted tactical dispy, palm resting ft against cold gss. Gold glows gently across the dispy, then spreads across the ptform.

  Webb frowns. “You’re initiating without confirming power allocation?”

  You don’t look up. “Pulling the startup feed from the Portnd’s reserves. Once the ttice anchors, it’ll draw from this rig’s own generators.”

  Webb folds his arms. “Same framework as the Portnd?”

  “Standardized,” you confirm, focus narrowing. “Keeps it simple.”

  The enchantments unfold in deliberate yers. Interface, Connection, Repair, Refill, Refuel, Sustenance, Vigor, Zero-Sleep, Cleanliness, Aura Ward, each pulse embedding itself into the steel and circuitry.The process takes seconds; the resonance, longer. By the time the glow fades, faint warmth hums through the floor ptes.

  Reeves checks the wall readout. “Power draw stabilized. Generator loop confirmed, System load negligible. You just gave us indefinite sustainment.”

  You withdraw your hand. “Ptform’s self-sufficient until someone shuts it down.”

  “Assuming sanity holds,” Webb mutters. “Living on a metal isnd for eternity’s a bad experiment in morale.”

  “Then make it temporary, give the crew purpose, or at least distraction. They’ll st longer.” you reply, lowering your hand. “It’ll hold long enough to rebuild something resembling a world.”

  Webb exhales, half amusement, half disbelief. “You could at least warn people before re-architecting a facility.”

  You smirk faintly. “Consider this your invoice.”

  Before anyone can answer, Asia’s voice cuts sharply through the Telepathy Web, tight with arm. "Brad, Violet’s Ring stabilized her at first, but now she’s screaming. It’s like the magic’s tearing the prosthetics off and then just… stopping. It’s not finishing!"

  You halt mid-step, instantly mapping the events. Not rejection of metal. Disconnection. The Ring lost its anchor once the prosthetic stopped counting as part of her body.

  "Move the Ring to one of her toes," you send back calmly. "Use your Sacred Gear to dull the pain until both prosthetics are clear. Once both prosthetics are fully detached, it’ll recognize the stumps as valid and restart the regeneration."

  A heartbeat of silence, then a flood of understanding and resolve. "Understood."

  You gnce back at Webb and Reeves. “Medical complication. One of the rescued travelers. It’ll stabilize now.”

  Webb nods immediately. “We’ll finish securing the ptform. Meeting in the cafeteria at seven-fifteen.”

  “Good.” You’re already moving for the hatch. “By then, they’ll be ready to hear what Harmon did.”

  The medbay’s air is sterile and too bright.You step through the hatch, relief flickering when you see Asia crouched beside Violet’s bed, a soft radiance pulsing through her hands. Nearby, the others watch in uneasy silence - Erza steady and silent, Nami pale, C.C. unreadable, and Yoruichi pacing at the room’s edge like a caged cat.

  “Good,” you say quietly. “The toe-Ring’s doing its job.”

  Asia looks up, sweat beading on her brow but a small, relieved smile breaking through. “It re-synced perfectly."

  Violet sits upright, she doesn’t scream, pale but composed. She just trembles, one prosthetic already lies discarded beside the bed, twisted from the separation. The second prosthetic joint gives way with a metallic crack and cttering to the floor beside the first.Asia’s healing light dims, shifting from gold to a steady amber pulse. The tension in Violet’s shoulders finally eases; the worst of the pain passes with the ejection.

  Where the prosthetics had been, flesh is already knitting - slow, deliberate, alive. Pink tissue closes over exposed bone, sealing into smooth, clean stumps that shimmer faintly with regenerative energy. Beneath the skin, muscle extends, bone lengthens, gradual and steady as if the body is remembering itself. The process will take time, an hour, maybe more, but the impossible is already happening.

  Erza’s voice breaks the silence first. “I’ve seen healing magic before… but never like that.”

  Riveria studies the process intently, analytical even through exhaustion. “It’s regeneration through continuous creation, not restoration. An independent framework maintaining biology. This should be impossible.”

  Yoruichi leans back against her bed, arms crossed. “Guess our host doesn’t care much for ‘impossible.’”

  C.C. watches from a nearby cot, faint amusement touching her eyes. “If he does this for everyone, the world won’t stay broken for long.”

  Across the room, Yoruichi and Riveria exchange looks - a mixture of awe and disbelief - while the others watch as the impossible quietly begins to rebuild itself.

  As you turn to leave, a soft sound halts you - a breath catching on the edge of consciousness.You gnce back. On the next bed over, Shinobu stirs, shes fluttering.Across from her, Kurumi lifts her head weakly, her single eye gleaming crimson once more, awareness flickering through exhaustion.And on the far side, Albedo’s fingers twitch against the sheets, faint motion returning to her limbs.

  You exhale softly, the tension finally loosening. ‘Welcome back,’ you murmur. ‘You’ve missed more than you know.’

  You step closer to the trio, letting your gaze sweep across the room. “The torture has ended,” you begin, your voice calm. “You’ve been rescued. You’re safe now.”

  Shinobu stirs first, shes fluttering as she drifts between unconsciousness and awareness. Her body trembles faintly, a shadow of the ordeal she’d endured. “It’s... over?” she whispers, voice small. You kneel beside her, hand hovering near hers in reassurance. “Yes. It’s over. Just breathe. You’re alive.”

  Kurumi’s crimson eye blinks open, awareness flickering in jagged pulses, her perception of time fractured from the experiments she’d endured. She tries to rise, but exhaustion pins her down. “So... finished?” she murmurs, voice uneven. You nod. “Yes. You’re here, and you’re safe. Take your time.”

  Albedo’s fingers twitch, testing the strength returning to her limbs. Her golden eyes sweep the room, sharp yet confused, cataloging the presence of others and the reality of her survival. “I... survived?” she asks, voice precise, cautious. You smile faintly. “Yes. You survived. And you’re not alone.”

  The other observers shift slightly. Yoruichi paces at the edge of the room, taut muscles coiling and rexing as her gaze flicks between the waking trio and the surrounding Medbay. Nami rests a hand on the edge of a bed, eyes darting between monitors and the recovering figures. Erza stands near the wall, scarlet hair tied back, arms crossed, surveying the scene with disciplined focus.

  Violet Evergarden sits with her stubs exposed, slowly knitting over, while Asia carefully tends to the regenerating tissue, her hands steady and reassuring. Musashi leans lightly against a support beam, an amused curiosity pying on her features, while C.C.’s eyes take in every detail with quiet, immortal patience. Sinon sits rigid, hands fidgeting slightly, while Riveria quietly observes, assessing physical states and magical energy readings.

  You gnce again at Shinobu, Kurumi, and Albedo. “Once you’re steady, we’ll move to a rger area. There are others waiting, you’re not the only dimensional travelers here. You’ll have time to meet them, to ask questions.”

  Shinobu lets out a shaky breath, closing her eyes briefly. Kurumi blinks rapidly, attempting to reconcile fragmented perceptions. Albedo flexes her fingers and finally allows herself to sit upright with your assistance. Each of them takes tentative, shallow breaths, absorbing the safety of the room and the reassurance of those around them.

  You exhale softly. “Take as long as you need. We’ll leave when you’re ready. Right now, you’re safe. That’s what matters.”

  Yoruichi stops pacing, letting the tension in her shoulders ease slightly. Nami’s fingers stop drumming. Erza’s stance rexes fractionally. Even the silent observers, Musashi, C.C., Sinon, Riveria allow themselves a subtle shift, as though acknowledging that this small victory is worth a moment of relief.

  The room is quiet again, but this time it is not just the quiet of trauma, it is the quiet of survival, of fragile hope, of a momentary peace before the storm that lies ahead.

  The tension in the Medbay finally begins to ease. The worst of the pain has passed; faded into slow, exhausted breathing.

  Asia lowers her glowing hands, the amber light of her healing fading from Violet’s closing wounds. The once-mechanical joints are now smooth, pink stubs faintly pulsing with regenerative energy. Violet flexes them weakly, her expression composed but trembling at the edges.

  You gnce toward the three newly awakened women, Shinobu, Kurumi, and Albedo each still adjusting to consciousness. The trauma of captivity lingers in their eyes, but the terror is receding, repced by dawning comprehension.

  “Alright,” you say quietly, voice carrying enough strength to steady the room. “You’ve all been through hell. But it’s over now. The torture has ended, and you’re safe here.”

  Kurumi’s crimson eye flickers, her perception struggling to settle into the linear present. Shinobu nods faintly, eyes half-lidded but responsive. Albedo’s golden gaze sharpens, awareness returning in calcuted fragments.

  “You’ve got questions,” you continue, gentler now. “And I’ll do my best to answer them. But we’ll do that somewhere more comfortable. There are others waiting in the cafeteria, other dimensional travelers who arrived earlier. We’ll go together.”

  Yoruichi steps forward first, her movements precise and feline. “I’ll escort them,” she offers, the tension that had kept her pacing finally finding purpose.

  “Good,” you reply with a nod. “Kurumi, lean on Yoruichi if you need to. Shinobu, take it slow. Albedo...” You pause, meeting her gaze. “You’re stronger than most, but that doesn’t mean you have to prove it right now.”

  She hesitates, then inclines her head slightly, a wordless acknowledgment of authority she doesn’t yet understand but instinctively accepts.

  Nami moves to assist Asia, helping her pack up her healing implements. Erza checks the corridor, confirming it’s clear. C.C. and Musashi linger near the rear, their rexed postures hiding readiness. Sinon watches quietly, rifle slung against her shoulder, while Riveria makes one st scan of the room’s magical residue, curiosity flickering in her emerald eyes.

  The procession forms naturally, cautious, uneven, but determined. You walk at the center, ensuring the weakest are supported, while Webb and Reeves take position near the exit, their professionalism anchoring the scene in something recognizably human.

  As the group steps into the corridor, the Medbay’s sterile hum gives way to the deeper sounds of the rig—distant engines, wind across steel, the low murmur of waves against the hull.

  The walk is slow. Shinobu leans against the wall once, catching her breath; Kurumi’s steps waver as her temporal awareness fluctuates, and Albedo walks in silence, her golden eyes scanning every detail as though measuring the bounds of this strange new reality.

  You gnce back at the Medbay door, now closing behind you. There’s no sound of pain—only footsteps, only breathing, only life.

  Ahead, the cafeteria lights glow softly through open double doors. The others are waiting.

  The cafeteria feels too bright. Too open. Fluorescent lights buzz above us, casting hard shadows over faces that have already seen too much. Twenty-three dimensional travelers fill the hastily arranged tables. Some cling to composure. Others look like one wrong word might shatter them.

  Webb adjusts the camera in the corner; Reeves stands near the door, jaw tight. I exhale slowly. My hands shake once, before I force them still against the table. Not now. Not in front of them.

  Rin stands at my right, a calm, steady presence. Asia mirrors her on my left, fingers ced together in silent prayer. Maria leans against the wall with arms crossed, masking worry with attitude. Mikasa’s posture near the exit is rigid, a soldier ready to move.

  Albedo sits in the first row, her golden eyes tracking me with unnerving focus. Kurumi’s crimson gaze flickers, present, absent, present again. Shinobu sits small and withdrawn, her usual sharpness buried under the weight of what was done to her.

  I inhale. Slow. Controlled.

  “Before we begin,” I say quietly, “you’re safe here. No one is going to hurt you again.”

  Some shoulders loosen. Some don’t. Trauma hangs thick in the air.

  “This briefing is for all of you… and for anyone who finds this recording ter.”My throat tightens, but I push through it. “You deserve the truth.”

  A beat of silence.

  “One year ago, this world had no magic. None. Magic was myth, stories, drawings, rumors people joked about.”

  I swallow hard. “Six months ago... it appeared. Quietly. Subtly. We still don’t know if it leaked from somewhere else, or if our world evolved on its own. But humanity didn’t notice. A few strange cases. Some rumors. Nothing the government took seriously.”

  Yoruichi leans forward slightly, attention sharp. Nami taps her fingers nervously. Erza sits perfectly straight.

  “Then eighteen days ago,” I continue, “things changed on the smallest level. Viruses and bacteria evolve fastest when their environment changes... and magic reshaped their environment.”

  My voice tightens.“We didn’t see the signs. And when the first corpses got up, when the dead tried to eat the living, we were already too te.”

  Sinon flinches. Kurumi’s eye sharpens. Riveria’s calm expression folds into analytical concern.

  “Twelve days ago, civilization colpsed. Too fast to be natural.”My jaw clenches as the anger rises, hot, sharp. I force a breath. “Because it wasn’t natural.”

  I let that hang for a moment.

  “This is where the human part of the story begins.”

  A pulse of guilt hits my ribs, Kira’s face, Lyra’s final smile, but I shove it down before it breaks me.

  “Director Harmon of the CDC made contact with something. An eldritch entity, older than worlds. He made a contract.”

  Robin’s eyes narrow. Sango’s posture shifts forward. Even Yusuke looks shaken.

  “Harmon used information from that thing to accelerate the outbreak,” I continue, my voice low. “He didn’t just spread the virus, he weaponized the colpse. Anyone who showed even the slightest natural resistance to infection… he had them hunted.”

  A bitter taste rises in my mouth.

  “Some were ‘harvested’ for study. Others were executed outright. Drone strikes, bck-bag teams, disappearance orders, Harmon murdered hundreds just to remove potential survivors. Anyone who could’ve helped stabilize the world was erased.”

  Faces around the room pale, some in horror, some in anger, some in numb acceptance.

  “And that was only half of it.”

  I swallow hard and force myself to meet every gaze. “The CDC task forces weren’t just grabbing infected or resistant humans. They were capturing dimensional travelers. You.”

  A ripple of tension moves through the room.

  “Harmon wasn’t looking for soldiers or experts. He was looking for resonance, dimensional frequency alignment. And he tested every single person he captured.”

  My hands shake again. I clench them behind my back where the camera can’t see. “Twelve men failed resonance testing. He beled them ‘non-viable’ and eliminated them as liabilities. Executed. No hesitation.”

  Erza stiffens. Yusuke’s jaw drops. Kurumi’s eye goes dark and sharp.

  “But eleven of you matched the frequencies. Eleven women. Eleven ritual anchors.”

  I exhale slowly, steadying my voice. “He turned gender into an equation for sacrifice.”

  The silence that follows is suffocating.

  Then Albedo’s hand twitches, metal groaning under her grip. “You are telling us... this world’s magic is six months old? That is impossible. Frameworks require centuries to stabilize.”

  “No,” I correct gently. “World magic systems take centuries. Ours doesn’t have one. Not yet.”

  I gesture faintly to the room, to everything around us. “Whatever magic we have is chaotic. Unmapped. And the only framework that existed came from outside. Harmon didn’t develop anything, he imported a ritual through his eldritch contract.”

  Riveria’s eyes widen slightly. Kurumi tilts her head, understanding flickering through fractured perception.

  “As for my own magic...” I hesitate, then sigh.

  “My abilities are… a gimmick. I shouldn’t be anywhere near the level I’m at. My system shortcuts are odd. I improvised, I got lucky with enchantments, mixing power sources.”

  The admission tastes like guilt. “I shouldn’t be the strongest magic-user in this world. But right now, I am, because everything else is too new, too unstable, or died before it could develop.”

  I let the weight of that settle.

  “And Harmon wanted to use all of you to force open a rip in the world, for a creature that shouldn't exist in the first pce.”

  My jaw tightens again. “We stopped him. But we didn’t stop the damage he caused. Two died stopping it.”

  The weight of that settles over all of us, heavy, terrible, real.

  SnafuSam