The meeting had adjourned, and the date of departure was set for tomorrow.
As the others filed out of the hall, I retreated to my room, the weight of the impending mission pressing on my chest. Just as I settled onto my bed, preparing to doze off—
Knock. Knock.
I frowned. My door was already open.
A shadow filled the doorway. **Clara stood there**, her emerald-green hair cascading like sunlit leaves, her piercing green eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. She hadn't waited for an answer.
"Do you really plan on coming?" she asked, her voice indifferent.
I sat up straighter. "Yes, I do."
Her gaze sharpened. "Why would you? We're under no obligation to help the other continents—especially you. Why risk your life for a place you've never even seen?"
The questions spilled from her lips like an interrogation.
I exhaled. "Because Kyo seemed uneasy when Dunkle Tiefen was mentioned."
Clara's eyes narrowed. "But why? You and Kyo barely know each other. Why would you care if he died?"
She was right. Why did I feel this pull toward a man I'd only met weeks ago? Was it our intertwined abilities? Some cosmic destiny?
"I have a bad feeling," I admitted. "If we don't go, something terrible will happen—not just to Kyo, but to the entire world. Dunkle Tiefen… if we don't stop them now, they'll bring devastation unlike anything before."
Clara's fingers twitched. "But there's no way you could *know* that. Why subject yourself to that kind of torture?"
A bitter smile tugged at my lips. "True, I was born on Flauma. I don't know the horrors of Dunkle Tiefen like you and Kyo do. But I still want to help." I chuckled softly. "Maybe I just wanna feel like a hero."
The moment the words left my mouth, Clara's breath hitched. Her green eyes widened—not in annoyance, but in horror.
She clapped a hand over her lips, her entire body trembling.
"Who told you about that? WHO TOLD YOU AB—" Her voice cracked as she choked back the rest, fingers digging into her own skin as if physically restraining herself.
Before I could react, she spun on her heel and stormed out, still covering her mouth.
"Clara—wait!" I bolted after her, grabbing her wrist. She whirled around, tears welling in those vibrant green eyes. The sight made my grip loosen.
She wrenched free and vanished down the hall.
I slumped onto my bed, burying my face in my pillow.
"I'm such a loser."
A snicker cut through the silence.
I turned—only to see Grim crouched in the corner, his hand clamped over his mouth, grinning like a madman.
"Wha—what are you doing here?" I stammered.
"Oh, nothing," he said, mimicking my voice. "Just thinking how I'm such a loser."
I groaned. "What do you want?"
Grim's smirk softened. "Making sure you didn't get cold feet." He tilted his head. "But it seems I worried for nothing."
I rolled my eyes. "I'm gonna take it that you just care for me that much."
His expression turned solemn. "I do, Arthur."
A fist pressed against my chest.
"You remind me of my mentor," he murmured. "So promise me—no matter what happens, you'll keep your head on your shoulders. Never give in to despair. Be strong. Not for me… but for those who can't anymore."
I met his gaze. "Yeah. Don't worry—I've never given into despair, and I never will."
For a heartbeat, Grim's eyes darkened. Then, with a faint smile, he whispered:
"Don't go making the dead worry, Arthur."
The Next Morning
The team assembled at the tower gates, the air thick with unspoken tension. Clara avoided my gaze entirely. I tried to approach her, but the moment I took a step, she turned away.
Pathetic.
I glanced at Kyo for support, but his icy glare shut me down immediately.
"Iben, help me out here!" I pleaded.
The burly man looked between Clara and me, then snorted. "Never mind," I muttered.
Grim's voice cut through the murmurs.
"Listen up, comrades." His tone was commanding yet warm. "This is Division 8's first mission outside the tower in five years. Iben and Clara haven't seen the state of the world—so take it slow. Arthur will lead through Flauma until Shizuku's Ladder. After that, Kyo takes charge. Any adjustments fall to Iben—but if you disagree, speak up. Clara will play peace maker."
He paused, scanning each of us.
"This isn't just a mission for the Rebel Faction. This is for the residents of Flauma's Tower." Grim's voice hardened. "So I'll ask once more—will you change the world?"
"YESSIR!" we roared in unison.
As we marched forward, Hange's voice chased after us:
"When you return… things won't be the same. So—take care."
The gates groaned shut behind us.
Our journey to restore the world—and uncover the memories buried within it—had begun.
Our journey began. Marching through Flauma's still-rough terrain felt nostalgic for reasons I couldn't explain. Iben and Clara's eyes wandered constantly, their gazes drinking in the landscape with unmistakable remorse. No one remembered them here - because everyone who once had was already dead.
We marched through the greener side of Flauma where reconstruction efforts showed most progress. The castle loomed in the distance, commanding their fixed attention. When we finally arrived at the first inn, the awkward tension between Clara and me still hung thick in the air.
I hesitated outside her door, then knocked softly. "Hey Clara... can we talk?"
Inside, she lay on the bed, her emerald hair fanned across the pillow like spilled sunlight. Even in the dim lantern light, her beauty was nearly blinding. She didn't look at me when she answered, but her voice carried a quiet resignation: "I think we should."