Raymei of the Sand Seas

I'm Raymei. The name means "dawn"!

Her voice, bursting with liveliness, was unlike any woman I had ever known.

Spreading her legs wide, the woman straddled my fallen body and moved in closer.

Her shorts were so short they could be mistaken for underwear, leaving her tanned thighs boldly exposed.

She was so damn close.

Her warmth tickled the tip of my nose, but my eyes were fixed on her expression.

Her tall stature and long, glossy black hair seemed somewhat mismatched with her childlike face. The dark eyes beneath the pirate hat were shining with overflowing confidence and curiosity.

I won't allow you to die here.

Her supple arm was extended straight toward me, a childlike innocence etched on her face.

Get. I'll make you my husband.

That day, my unexpected encounter with Desert Pirate Raymei was no less than a turbulent storm.

So hot . . .

The sun was beating down strongly.

When I wiped my neck, the sand, caked with sweat, came off in clumps.

Looking around, there was nothing but a vast expanse of sand. The wind whimsically reshaped the countless sand dunes stretching endlessly into the distance.

This place was the Sea of Sand.

. . . So heavy.

Walking alone on the sand, I looked back at the prey I was dragging.

It was a fish, but not the kind that lives in the sea.

It was a Sand Sea Fish, a monster-like creature about two meters long that had adapted to the sand sea.

I had taken it down with a harpoon while it was swimming freely beneath the sand. The fishermen would probably pay a decent price for it later.

It was good, but that wasn't the point.

. . . Heeey! Raymei!

A voice called to me from afar. It was my younger sister, Shino.

From atop the halted Sand Sea Ship, Shino stretched her small body as far as she could, waving eagerly. Every time she jumped, her blonde hair gleamed in the sunlight.

I let my guard down after driving the harpoon into the big one. The fish was still alive, and the rope tied to the harpoon was still connected to the harness around my waist. Normally, I would’ve detached and gotten out of there the moment things looked dangerous, but this time, I got greedy.

The rope yanked me off the ship, and I got dragged around five miles across the sand sea by a dying fish.

At that moment, I was covered in sand from the inside out.

The sand of the Sand Sea was fine-grained and sank easily, like a swamp. Walking wasn’t impossible, but with each step, the boots quickly filled with sand, all the way up to the soles.

Finally making it back to the ship, swimming rather than walking, I couldn't help but give Shino a slightly resentful look—there was not a speck of dust on her.

Welcome back, Raymei!

I'm home . . . Ugh, you've got it so easy, Shino! You're the brains of the operation. You haven't even broken a sweat. Blonde hair, flawless skin . . . You're literally the cutest in the world. Aah, being a big sister is such a thankless job! If my adorable little sister doesn't comfort me, I'm gonna curl up in a corner and shut myself off for a while.

Hey, don't sulk!

Shino narrowed her blue eyes until they were thin as threads, creating an illusion of a ray of light, and giggled softly.

My younger sister Shino was, in a word, a beauty. Her petite, delicate frame stood in stark contrast to my rough-and-tumble nature. Her fair skin was smooth and flawless, untouched by blemishes or sunburn. Even the most casual of her gestures exuded an effortless grace.

Shino was like a princess, the kind of person who made anyone who looked at her instinctively want to protect her.

You don't need to be so down on yourself. You’re cool, too. Your black hair and tanned skin make you look strong. I like you a lot. Also, you kind of remind me of birthday chocolates.

Don't compare me with chocolates, Shino! I'm a girl, you know!?

Climbing onto the deck, I tossed the Sand Sea Fish I'd been carrying at my feet. Some of the scales had come off, leaving it a bit damaged, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t a fisherman to begin with.

Shino was still smiling that irritatingly cute smile of hers.

But you love chocolates, don’t you? It's not like we get to have it frequently, though.

Of course I do! Girls love chocolates. And don't you try changing the subject so smoothly!

Yes, yes, I know. You don't get what you want by simply asking—you have to take it. After all, you're a girl—and a pirate.

Of course, I am!

I picked up my hat. It was black with two corners—a Bicorn Hat just like the ones worn by pirates in the old days.

The part-time job is over. Looks like our real prey is coming now. Ten o’clock, enemy sightings . . . four, five . . . six of them!

Peering through the telescope, I saw black shadows approaching, kicking up clouds of sand.

Each of the ships had massive Paddle Wheels mounted on either side. They were Sand Sea Ships that advanced by churning through the sand.

I bared my gums in a wide grin, just like my mom used to.

Big catch, big catch! Shino, take your position! It's the Strand Fleet—those who killed Mom! Full speed ahead! Yo-ho!

*

The Otherworld. It had suddenly appeared in the sky—a sphere with no mass, semi-transparent, letting light pass through without blocking the sunlight.

The reason why it kept floating was unknown. It emitted no force, nor did it affect the tides like the moon. It was simply there, as if looking up at the sky through the negative of an old film.

This was how it looked when viewed from the ground, ten thousand meters below.

However, if one flew an aircraft and approached the Otherworld in the sky, things would appear different.

The gravity would gradually begin to form, and heaven and earth would switch places. The approaching ground would no longer be transparent. Instead, the ground left behind would become see-through.

On the surface of the Otherworld, unmistakable traces of civilization could be seen.

Seven such Otherworlds floated in the sky of this region.

Once, they were seen as a beacon of hope. They were believed to be new frontiers, brought about in an era of explosive population growth and dwindling resources.

That was until the Otherworlds shattered and began to rain down sand.

Whirling sandstorms, accompanied by lightning, slashed through them.

The sandstorm brewing in the far south looked terrifying, even from a distance.

This is going to get rough.

Fleet Commander Iowa glanced at the storm from the air-conditioned bridge, then quickly shifted his gaze back to what lay before him.

That was the signal. A beautiful woman languidly poured alcohol into his empty glass. Another woman standing on the opposite side offered him peeled grapes.

Iowa chewed them, hardly moving his thick neck.

None of the officers working to operate the ship dared to reproach him. Bringing his harem women aboard was considered the rightful privilege of the ship's owner.

The Third Fleet of the Strand Fleet. Flagship April.

The land-based aircraft carrier, modified for desert navigation with massive paddle wheels attached to scoop up sand, sailed across the Sand Sea, accompanied by five paddle-wheel ships trailing behind it on both sides.

We've received a message from the advance patrol ship! They've spotted an Otherworldly Artifact in our path. Local scavengers are already swarming around it. The original target, which the boss had ordered our fleet to recover, has already been secured in shipping containers, and all that’s left is to transport it back to our home port. Shall we tow the other artifact as well?

Of course. It’ll make the perfect souvenir to go with the mission. Scatter those scavengers and retrieve it.

Iowa's tone was full of arrogance, his massive body shaking with a low chuckle.

Remind them who the true masters of the Sand Sea are.

A massive chunk of metal jutted out from the barren desert, leaning slightly. Its stark, angular silhouette exuded an alien presence.

And for good reason. It truly wasn't of this world.

A group of people clung to the enormous alien structure, cutting out steel with industrial cutters.

They were Scavengers, or Salvagers as they were contemptuously called.

Their vessels looked cobbled together from scrap materials, with fishing banners flapping above. A rabble like this, with their mismatched gear, was no threat to the Strand Fleet.

The Scavengers at work looked up at the sound and light from above. Armed helicopters, the advance party from the Strand Fleet's aircraft carrier, were descending upon them.

Under the helicopters' gunfire, the Scavenger ships scattered like spiders in all directions. Yet some stood their ground, blindly firing their guns skyward.

However, their resistance didn't last long. With a deafening roar, the defiant vessels vanished in a massive blast of sand. The Strand Fleet's ships had begun their bombardment.

Boom! Boom! Thud!

The ships shattered, and countless human bodies were hurled through the air.

From the soundproofed bridge, the roaring battle felt oddly tranquil—almost out of place.

Fleet Commander Iowa sank deep into his comfortable reclining seat and raised a glass in a toast.

The Sand Sea is generous. To those with power, the sand delivers everything.

The sun blazed brightly in the sky.

And floating there was another massive, semi-transparent star.

Otherworld. Even from this vantage point, three of these spherical objects, once called by that name, floated in the sky.

These were the true culprits behind the sand covering the world.

In the end, the Otherworlds had not been the convenient frontier that many had imagined.

They were crumbling in the sky, with sand streaming down, turning the earth below into a vast desert.

However, the falling sand contained small but usable resources, and this had become the spark for new conflicts.

The battle between the Strand Fleet and the Scavengers raged on, and part of the overwhelmingly superior Strand Fleet had already begun retrieving the Otherworldly Artifact.

The Strand Ships' gun turrets locked onto the ridiculously massive metal chunk that had fallen from the Otherworld. They fired continuously at its humanoid shape, driving anchors into the scattered fragments and hauling them away.

The poorly geared Scavenger fishing vessels couldn't even protect the prize they had discovered first.

The Strand Fleet commanded the largest and most powerful force in the region directly beneath one of the floating Otherworlds, Wars. In this Sand Sea where nations had collapsed and the violence of the strong had become law, no one could stand against them.

. . . kyurururururu . . .

Or at least, that's how it was supposed to be.

VRRRMM. GRRRNNNNNNNNN!

T-the destroyer February is malfunctioning . . . it’s listing hard! Rear screw damage confirmed! It’s not from the Scavenger ships. That’s . . . a drill?!

What?!

Hearing the officer's incomprehensible report, Fleet Commander Iowa sprang to his feet.

What Iowa saw as he rushed to the window was, indeed, a drill.

A gleaming silver spiral burst out from beneath the sand, piercing the destroyer locked in battle with the Scavengers. The drill kept spinning, shredding the stern of the February as its cylindrical body rose straight up from below.

A submarine . . . ?

What the newly appointed officer muttered was a word that should have long been extinct.

Sticky sweat trickled down Iowa’s wrinkled, bloated chin.

A drill . . . a submersible ship? That’s impossible. We definitely eliminated that thing!

No matter how fine the sand particles falling from the Otherworlds might be, no matter how much they resembled running water near the surface, sand was still sand. One couldn't navigate through it like underwater. Technology capable of submerging in sand would be even more advanced than the Sand Sea Ships that forcibly plowed through using powerful engines derived from Otherworld debris. But, according to them, such technology simply didn't exist.

Except for one exception!

A raspy voice crackled over the loudspeaker, cutting through the arid air of the Sand Sea.

To the armed fleet of Strand! This is Raymei, captain of the Submersible Ship Monoceros and second-generation leader of the Tendou Pirate Crew!

It was the voice of a young girl, dignified and powerful.

Pirates. Unlike the Strand Fleet, who seized wealth from the weak by force, or the Scavengers, who scrounged for scraps behind the strong’s backs, pirates were something else entirely.

Pirates defied the strong and stole wealth specifically from them. They were the mortal enemies of the Strand Fleet.

Iowa stared at the officers who had stopped their work to listen to the broadcast, then issued his orders.

What are you waiting for?! Notify all the ships! Target the enemy ship under the February! I don’t care if we hit our own! Strike while we still can! FIRE!

Gun turrets swiveled, and helicopters in the air pivoted their noses toward the drill-bearing submersible ship.

The broadcast from the submersible ship continued.

This is a retaliatory strike! You Strand Fleet bastards, one year ago, you took my mother, Tendou, away from me . . . Wait, are you already aiming at me?! At least hear me out first!. . . Waaaaahhh?!

The paddle wheels on both sides of the submersible ship reversed direction, and the vertically positioned vessel slipped back beneath the sand.

The vessel sank completely, and the broadcast fell silent. The Strand Ships continued shelling the spot where the Monoceros had vanished—but it was all for nothing.

Iowa gave his next order.

Change formation! Switch to double column and have each ship target the area beneath its adjacent ship! Position the helicopters outside the formation to cover each pair's blind spots!

The fleet changed its formation, rotating the paddle wheels desperately. Witnessing the scene in front of him, Iowa bit his nails.

Damn it! She's still alive after all this time. Years ago, that woman Tendou dared defy the Strand Fleet's authority, and now it's her daughter!

Report! The enemy ship has surfaced alongside the destroyer September! The September's left paddle wheel is damaged!

Don’t bother with pursuit. They’ll dive again soon. Instead, aim our next shots at the Augusta. They’ll exploit the gap in our formation created by September’s damage.

Enemy ship resurfacing! R-right in front of our ship!

That's impossible!

GYARARR. GYURARARARARARARR!!!

Iowa rushed to the front window. There it was—the infamous narwhal, the drill-horned Monoceros that had long terrorized the Strand Fleet.

The gleaming drill tip was pointed squarely at the bridge where Iowa was standing.

The girl's defiant words echoed once more.

Now, let me finish what I was saying. Clean the wax outta your ears and listen closely! We’ve come to declare war. From now on, the Monoceros will attack you relentlessly every single day. You killed my Mom, and now I'm gonna make you pay in full! Be ready for the disaster!

All ships, open fire! Lock your sights on the area in front of the flagship April. Sink it even if it means going down with them!

At Iowa's desperate command, the fleet unleashed a volley of fire. The submersible ship vanished in a massive explosion, engulfed by the swirling cloud of sand and debris.

The flagship was violently shaken by the bombardment, causing Iowa to stagger.

Well? Did we get them?!

But just when the swirling dust began to settle . . .

GYUAAAA . . . RARARARARARARAAA!!!

Relax! I won't kill anyone.

The drill roared, and the girl’s voice echoed once again. It came from behind them.

I’m not here to take lives. I’m after the treasure. Whatever the Monoceros can’t carry, I’ll share with the fishermen!

The enemy appeared behind our fleet! The transport ship’s towing anchor has been cut. This is bad . . . The cargo with the items for the Boss?! The enemy submersible ship is towing it away with their own anchor!

Iowa turned pale.

This can't happen! Get it back! Or else the Boss will . . .

Report! The Scavenger ships that fled earlier are regrouping. Their likely target is the other cargo we dropped. The interference is heavy, and we can’t track the Monoceros.

Don’t waste time on those weaklings!

Well then, thanks for your business, everyone!

Iowa's bellowing was futile. With the girl's taunting voice as a final farewell, the Monoceros swiftly submerged into the sand, taking the shipping container it had anchored along with it.

It's over.

As officers frantically rushed about and the women of his harem stood bewildered on the bridge, Iowa slumped down powerlessly.

The Boss will . . . kill me.

*

One hour after the battle ended.

I was humming a tune while bringing the Monoceros back to the surface.

There were no enemy signatures in the vicinity. After reducing the speed and bringing it to a stop, I moved below the hatch.

I can't wait to see our treasure, Raymei!

Shino, who had come to greet me, was in just as good a mood as I was. Tapping her heel to keep rhythm, she spoke in a sing-song voice.

Fuel costs, gear expenses, repair fees, port rental, and all the other operating expenses . . . I hope we can recover it all.

Ugh! Don’t drag me back to the reality like that! You're killin' all the romance!

The piracy business is just like investing. Sending out a ship costs money, and in the end, whether profits beat the costs comes down to luck.

No matter what you say, sis, we’ve got to face the facts. Piracy isn’t a fairy tale—it’s a real business. If the stuff we grabbed doesn’t pay out, we’re doing that raid all over again.

What?! But we only have half our fuel left! And I seriously thought we were gonna die back there . . .

Then we go back and bow down to our investors. And of course, we’ll work as fishermen for six months until we save up for the next run. Wanna make that your full-time gig?

It's gonna be gold and silver treasures, dammit! No point yappin' about it. I'm heading out!

I climbed the ladder and stuck my head out from the top of the Monoceros.

A dry wind blew in my face. It was the familiar air of the Sand Sea. Even the dust that was usually annoying felt good after crawling out of the damp submersible ship.

I made my way down the hull and headed toward the shipping container attached to the stern.

Among the mountains of containers loaded on the Strand Fleet's transport ship, this was the only one secured separately from the others. Despite what Shino said, I believed this had a high chance of being a jackpot.

I waded through the sand, closing in on the cargo, and put my hand on the locked door.

After cutting through the chains with a chain cutter and opening the door, what greeted my eyes was not the gold and silver treasure I had been expecting.

Inside was a chaotic pile of machinery stacked up. Everything there looked old, filthy, and rusted.

It doesn't look like they came from the Otherworld in the sky. So, does that means . . . they're from below?

Beneath the Sand Sea lies the region once known as the Pacific Ocean.

Not only Otherworldly Artifacts that fall from the sky along with the sand but also relics of the old civilization buried in the sand were considered valuable treasures in this era.

I couldn’t determine the value of the machinery stored in the container, but two machines sitting in the center caught my eye.

They were illuminated by the light streaming through the hole made when the Monoceros drove its anchor into the container, as if under a spotlight.

The two egg-shaped devices placed side by side were about the size of bathtubs. Countless cords extended from the eggs, connecting them to the surrounding machinery.

Hmm-hmm! This actually looks like it might be worth something!

I reached out expectantly and wiped away the dust that had accumulated on the egg's surface.

But that seemed to have triggered something.

With a sound like air escaping—pshhh—the surface of the egg I'd touched slid open.

Inside was a dead body.

Huh?. . . Scary.

My natural voice slipped out.

If Shino were here, she would definitely have teased me.

I was crying a little now.

The inside of the egg, where the dead body was lying, was lined with a bed-like material.

The body's hair and skin were as white as candle wax, with no sign of blood circulation. The lack of decomposition was likely due to the cold air leaking from the egg. The surrounding machinery appeared to be designed to keep this body in cold storage.

Naturally, the body didn't move a muscle. By the looks of it, the body belonged to someone around fifteen years of age—a boy slightly younger than me.

I swallowed hard and pressed my hands together.

Namu Amida Buddha . . . rest in peace, will ya? I'm a good-hearted pirate, not some grave robber who deserves divine punishment. Don't come back to haunt me, okay?

Then I surveyed the inside of the shipping container once more.

In the end, all that was here was a frozen body and the equipment to preserve it. Whether it would fetch any money was honestly doubtful. Relics from the old civilization typically included far more useful things like weapons or precision machinery. Those were the real jackpots.

No matter how much Sand Sea technology had regressed compared to the old civilization, they could still make refrigerators. Which meant . . .

A dud, huh?

With a sigh, I turned on my heel and was about to leave the container when a sudden headache hit me.

I froze in place.

From whence have you come? Akitsu, or perhaps Iyo?

From behind came those words steeped in age, like something an old man might say.

Despite that, it was a high and clear voice of a boy.

Whichever it is, you won’t be leaving here alive.

I spun around and tried to slash behind me with my cutlass, which was sheathed and hanging from my harness, but a pale hand was already on the hilt of my sword, locking it in place.

The corpse was moving!

The boy's left hand, contrary to its delicate appearance, was firmly blocking my sword. Despite my confidence in my arm strength, I couldn't break free.

Crap—

And the boy's other hand was reaching for my neck.

He’ll grab me and crush my throat.

No way!

I relaxed my body and dropped into a crouch in an instant. The boy's right hand sliced through empty air. His frost-coated eyelashes framed eyes that widened in surprise.

Still crouched, I went straight for his legs. My kick traced a semicircle along the floor. A leg sweep! The boy leapt to dodge it.

But that was a mistake. I sprang up and launched my counterattack, striking with the hilt of my freed cutlass. There was nowhere to escape in mid-air!

A sharp clang rang out. My attack was blocked by two swords the boy had drawn from the scabbards at his waist.

As the boy landed, he used that momentum to kick off the floor and slash at me. However . . .

I win.

I yanked my hand from my chest and aimed my pistol.

The muzzle was aimed right at the boy’s forehead.

BANG! You’re dead! C’mon, surrender already—

Are you joking?

The boy had tilted his head, dodging the line of fire.

At the same moment, a kick slammed into my gut. It hit harder than his build would suggest. I was launched to the edge of the shipping container.

The blank gun and cutlass slid across the floor. I felt something cold against my neck.

The boy was pointing his sword at me.

What . . . you bastard! I just spared your life! Isn't that cruel? Tell me, don't you think that's cruel?!

The boy looked down at me, his eyes cold.

His hair and eyebrows were indeed snow-white.

At first, I thought it was just frost from the freezing equipment. But no, the boy’s hair were naturally white.

When I noticed how strange he looked, I realized I had stopped yelling without even meaning to.

Why didn't you shoot?

It felt like he was talking not to me but to himself.

I would have dodged even if you had shot, but . . . I don't get it. If you intended to take Prince Hyuga hostage, that would make sense, but keeping a mere guard like me alive . . .

You men are too damn quick to kill.

Hands raised in surrender, I glared at the boy.

For just a moment, the boy looked confused but quickly returned to his ice-like expressionless face.

It’s my duty to kill. I eliminate anybody who targets Prince Hyuga . . . no, wait.

The boy didn't move his head, only turning his gaze to look behind him.

He was concerned about those egg-like devices.

Where did you take Prince Hyuga?

Huh? I don't know who that is. That other coffin you were in was empty from the start.

The boy was speechless for a while.

Hey, woman, what year is it by the Imperial Calendar? No, the Western calendar will do. What year is it?

Don't call me "woman," dammit. I'm Raymei! Ever heard of manners?

What year is it!?

Startled by his intensity, I finally gave in.

Uh, let’s see . . . It's around 2120, I think? It's been a hundred years since the last war and about eighty years since the Otherworld started raining down sand. The way you're asking these questions, it's like you've time-traveled or something.

I meant it as a joke, but the boy didn't crack even the slightest smile. Ignoring me, he rushed back to the egg-shaped device.

The program isn't activated. He was never even placed in cold sleep! Prince Hyuga . . . even if he's still alive, he would already be . . . a hundred . . .

The boy collapsed.

No matter how many times I called out to him, he didn't respond.

*

Year 2017 CE.

About one hundred years ago, in the 25th year of the Imperial Calendar of the Nation of Tsukushi, an island country in the Pacific Ocean.

The tower sinking into the twilight symbolized the prosperity of the small empire.

The Ascension Tower.

Tsukushi was the first in the world to begin construction on a high-speed vertical elevator linking the floating Otherworld above to the surface below. Though still incomplete, it already stood over 3,000 meters above sea level. The Ascension Tower, capable of transporting goods from the Otherworld at low cost, was expected to bring immense wealth once completed.

That's precisely why the tower's construction became a trigger for conflict.

This Otherworld—later called Wars due to the nature of the artifacts it produced—belonged to Tsukushi's airspace, one of three nations formed after the split of Japan.

The remaining two nations were not happy about it.

You appear to be Prince Hyuga, First Prince of Tsukushi. You'll be coming with us.

Soldiers wearing armor-like powered exoskeletons crept closer, their footsteps echoing through the warehouse district at the port.

The boy backed away until his back scraped against a grimy wall.

He was a pale-faced, fragile-looking youth. His ceremonial robe, modeled after ancient nobility, was completely oversized. Rather than emphasizing his authority, it only accentuated his thin wrists.

Cornered, Hyuga composed himself and answered with feigned calm.

That gear . . . you're from Iyo no Futana. Your tactics are impressive. But are you sure this is a wise decision? I have—

We're not seeking your consent. We won't indulge in your stalling tactics either. Take him.

The mobile warrior signaled to his subordinates behind him. Through the gaps in his armor, his eyes remain fixed on the young prince.

But his subordinates didn't respond. The warrior grew suspicious and turned around.

There's a shadow lurking at my feet.

The mobile warrior witnessed his two jet infantrymen collapsing, blood spurting from their throats.

Who dares?!

The warrior's scabbard ignited, his accelerated blade unleashing a supersonic iaido strike.

That action saved the warrior's life.

A small shadow that had leapt high and was attacking with dual blades halted midair.

A precise sword stroke aimed for the warrior's neck, targeting the gap in his armor. Had he not defended himself, he would've been cut down—just like the infantry dying at his feet.

Shadow, here.

The deflected boy performed a backflip midair before landing. He crouched low in a forward stance, almost crawling. The short kodachi swords in his hands were already sheathed in the double scabbards at his waist—an iaido stance.

A ninja-like bodyguard, and just a boy at that! How interesting.

The warrior too assumed an iaido stance.

The bottom of his mechanical scabbard was packed with gunpowder that ignited at the moment of drawing, a mechanism to enhance his iaido speed—a scientifically guaranteed blade velocity. A sneak attack might succeed, but there was no way an Iyo mobile warrior could lose in a direct duel.

The boy struck at that very moment.

As the warrior prepared to counter-attack, the scabbard at his waist detonated prematurely.

The sword shattered, fragments scattering through the air, glittering brightly. The warrior’s eyes bulged in shock.

What just happened?!

The answer lay with the boy who had leapt into the air.

In his right hand he gripped a kodachi, while his left hand was empty. He simply extended it, pointing directly at the warrior's scabbard as if issuing a command!

A nanomachine user with psychic abilities?!

The warrior drew his thermal blade from his waist and tried to continue fighting.

He couldn't.

The boy, suspended in midair with moonlight on his back, had already completed his strike.

Forgive me for keeping you waiting, Prince Hyuga.

The boy landed beside his lord, H,yuga and knelt down.

Behind them, the warrior's head slid off and fell.

The boy's right eye was bloodshot and stained red—the backlash from using psychokinesis. It was the price of overusing the nanomachines in his bloodstream.

This was the essence of the Nation of Tsukushi. Just as Iyo warriors donned mechanical armor, Tsukushi warriors accepted microscopic machines into their bodies, transforming into superhumans.

Get, this boy, was also a nanomachine user who had survived a surgery with only a fifty percent success rate.

Prince Hyuga, the ship is ready. We should escape now.

Yes, Get . . .

Just as Hyuga was about to leave under the guidance of Get, the young guard, he stopped in his tracks.

Hyuga's troubled eyes were fixed on the dead bodies at his feet.

Assassins appeared even at the capital's port. This war has become a quagmire. Iyo, Akitsu, and Tsukushi. The three nations are evenly matched in power. If this continues, we'll only wear down each other's national strength pointlessly. And to think we were once the same people . . .

It hadn't been that long since the country, once called Japan, split into three.

The Otherworld that appeared in the sky was, in essence, a mass of resources. This war of kin fighting over wealth had no foreseeable end. This was why Hyuga had to escape.

Led by Get, they boarded the cruiser that was waiting at anchor and set off. There was no sign of pursuers on the sea. Twilight was closing in from the eastern sky, and the moon was rising higher.

Ahead, the Ascension Tower was visible in the direction the cruiser was heading.

The Orbital Elevator technology, meant to link Earth and space in the future, had been scaled down as a means of travel to the Otherworld that had appeared much closer than space. In a sense, the appearance of the Otherworld had crushed an even greater possibility.

Sometimes I think it would have been better if the Otherworld had never appeared.

Hyuga stood on the deck. His voice was so weak and barely audible that it seemed to be drowned out by the engine noise.

Without the Otherworld, the conflicts might never have happened. The country wouldn't have divided, and the small nation of Tsukushi would never have been born. I wouldn't have become a prince, and you and I could have had a more normal relationship . . . at least something like friends.

And perhaps I might not have developed such deep devotion toward you, Prince Hyuga.

Get, who had switched the cruiser to autopilot, came out onto the deck and knelt before Hyuga. His lips were curved into a smile.

Hyuga, meanwhile, appeared visibly flustered.

But you know, Get. I'm not a master worthy of your loyalty. I only wish for peace, yet I can do nothing to make it happen. I'm just a powerless prince . . .

In the middle of his words, Hyuga suddenly began coughing.

Get, who knew exactly what to do, supported Hyuga while handing him a water bottle and tablets. After making him swallow the medicine, his chronic coughing fit gradually subsided.

My own weakness frustrates me.

Hyuga spoke cautiously, as if afraid of triggering another coughing fit.

Why can't I move around like you do, Get? Then I wouldn't be such a burden. Why can't I handle politics like Father? I'm a prince, but that's all I am. I'm not worthy of this title in the slightest . . . Hey, maybe someone like you would be better than me—

Forgive my impudence, but that's not true.

Get cut him off.

With a serious expression, he gazed at his master, admonishing him in a tone that was gentle yet stern.

At least for me, it's different. I want to support you precisely because you strive to fulfill your duties despite your frail body. You are weak, so I will protect you. That's why I'm here. I'll never regret sacrificing my life for you.

But Get, you have your own life too, don't you?

To serve the master I'm meant to serve, and to devote myself to him. Do you consider that unfortunate?

The sternness in Get's expression eased.

Prince Hyuga, you need not become a strong ruler like his father. You are weak, and because of that, you are kind. Become a gentle ruler who protects the weak. I, your Shadow, will sweep the path clear before you.

There was a moment of silence.

Thank you, Get . . . I understand. I promise I'll become a worthy king deserving of you.

Hyuga's voice, however, still contained doubt, sounding somehow uncertain.

Eventually, the two arrived at their destination island.

It was an inlet not marked on any map, one that shouldn't exist. Beneath it lay a hidden facility.

There stood two egg-shaped devices. This was a new technology acquired from abroad—an equipment for Cold Sleep. From here, Hyuga would escape the war and evacuate to the safety of the distant future.

Together with his loyal retainer, Hyuga entered the device.

One hour later.

The lid of one of the devices opened.

I know you would readily sacrifice your life for me, and this is why I can't take you with me.

*

The moment Get leapt out of the shipping container, his feet sank into the sand.

Disoriented and gasping for breath, he crawled through the desert.

Ahead loomed a massive submarine, strangely equipped with paddle wheels on both sides, blocking his view. Had it run aground? The surrounding landscape was nothing but desert as far as the eye could see, with no source of water in sight.

Hey, wait up! Are you even listening to me?!

Ignoring the pirate girl chasing after him, Get swam through the sand, making his way around the submarine.

The light reflection coming from the enormous drill attached to the front of the submarine blinded him.

His eyes adjusted quickly. To the east stood what he had been seeking.