The metallic forest had become a cemetery of silence.

  Every leaf, every trunk, every breath of air seemed to have turned to stone at the exact moment danger was unleashed. Only the fpping of monstrous wings—rge, wet, grotesquely beautiful—broke the stillness, like the echo of a beast reveling in its own power.

  The wind, passing through the steel trees, produced a hollow sound, resembling the ment of an ancient organ. There was blood in the air and ozone; a metallic scent that burned the nostrils and left a bitter taste on the tongue.

  And then, the silence shattered.

  “AAAHHH!”

  The scream was so sharp it seemed to tear through reality. A human howl that brought life—and horror—back to the dead forest.

  The young woman who had screamed fell to her knees among the rusted remains of cutting leaves. Her two-toned hair—half white, half dark—fluttered like a torn fg under the cold wind. She clutched her right arm with her other hand, though it could barely be called an arm anymore: it was shattered, bent at an unnatural angle, with a thick thread of blood dripping down in uneven, lifeless spurts.

  Her sobs mingled with the distant hum of wings.

  Immediately, another figure emerged from the shadows. A woman in a gray Assault suit, her knees sinking into the metallic mud, rushed toward the injured girl and grabbed her by the waist. Her gloves were stained instantly. She didn’t hesitate. She couldn’t. Panting, she dragged the girl toward the trunk of a massive tree, whose iron bark still bore the marks of a recent cw strike.

  “Easy,” she murmured through her teeth, barely audible. “You’ll be fine…”

  But her voice trembled.

  The girl’s blood stained the ground, tracing an irregur path like a red serpent slithering into nothingness. Makina looked up at the sky for a moment, trying to locate the source of those wings. She couldn’t. All she caught was a faint violet fsh among the sharp metallic treetops.

  A chill ran down her spine.

  The air was dense. The sound of wings drew near, vanished, and then returned—louder. As if something—someone—was mocking them, lurking just beyond their sight.

  “E-Easy!? My arm’s ruined! It hurts so much!”

  Nene’s voice cracked into a high-pitched cry, trembling more from fear than pain.

  “Rex,” Makina replied, her tone steady, as if trying to soothe her. “Your radius and ulna are broken in three pces. The humerus is shattered in several sections. If you keep moving, the fragments will pierce your muscles…”

  Nene turned pale. The world throbbed in her ears. Her own breathing sounded hollow, as if she were underwater.

  “W-What are you going to do, Miss Ma-AAAH!”

  Her scream tore through the air as Makina grabbed the deformed arm without hesitation and pulled. There was a dry crack—bone against bone—followed by pain so brutal that Nene thought she would faint.

  Her tears fell onto the bckened ground. She could barely see.

  “W-Why did you do that!?”

  Makina didn’t flinch. She didn’t even blink.

  “Assault suits have a compression system for multiple fractures. If I didn’t set the bone, it would’ve torn you apart from the inside. Now…”

  She pressed a ft button on Nene’s shoulder. A metallic beep sounded, and the reinforced fabric began to tighten, contracting like a living bandage from shoulder to wrist.

  “Aaaargh! God! Please, stop!”

  Pain coursed through her arm like liquid fire—but this time, it was pain that forced the body to stabilize. Makina leaned in slightly, studying the girl’s tear-streaked face.

  “There. That should keep the bones in pce. Now get up. We have to fight. That thing isn’t ordinary.”

  Nene sobbed, her breathing ragged.

  “N-No way…”

  Makina gnced at her—not with anger, not with disdain. Worse—with the calm of someone ready to die at any moment.

  The dark-haired woman took a step back, reloading her weapon without taking her eyes off the unseen enemy.

  “Get up. Move.”

  Nene shook her head, trembling.

  “You’re serious? You actually expect me to-?”

  “You chose to come here.” Makina turned to her, her gaze sharp as a bde. “And now you’re backing out?”

  “B-But…”

  “You wanted to be strong?” she cut her off, her words dry and precise. “Strength isn’t free. It takes courage—even when you’re broken inside. So stand up and fight.”

  Nene opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Her whole body trembled—between fear and pain.

  Makina lowered her tone—not out of kindness, but out of a hardened respect.

  “You proved it before. That shield you made saved my head. You’re not useless. So prove it again. You’re a Squire, right? Then get up and cover my back.”

  “I-I’m not.”

  “What?”

  Explosions echoed in the distance—somewhere deep in the Rift. The ground vibrated with each roar of the boss. Makina took a deep breath and finished:

  “There’s no time for nonsense. We have to keep fighting. You know why? Because we’re Hunters—even you. And that means we have pride, and we respect it. For me, my pride lies in being a loyal comrade. If they’re in danger, I’ll die to save them. What about you? What’s your pride? Crying and begging for help?”

  Nene gritted her teeth, her body trembling with a sob that burned her throat. She swallowed hard, and with a broken voice managed to whisper:

  “F-Fine… W-What do I do?”

  Makina tossed her several empty magazines, followed by a handful of bullet cartridges.

  “Load them, and make sure to hand them to me when I say so.”