Time: 6:22 AM — Core Cradle Chamber, Emergency Descent Route
The ancient soldiers didn't speak.
They just moved.
In perfect silence, in perfect rhythm, they closed ranks around the silver-haired girl—eyes glowing dimly behind fractured visors, fingers curled around weapons decades obsolete yet humming with unfamiliar energy. Their presence bent the air, like pressure before a storm. But they didn't aim at Aiko.
They aimed past her.
"Fantôme's retreating," Zhenya muttered, half in disbelief. "They're actually backing off."
"They're not retreating," Miura growled, eyes flicking to her still-flickering HUD. "They're recalibrating."
The remaining French black-ops soldiers held formation just outside the chamber, gesturing to unseen assets. One raised a sphere the size of a baseball—silver with a pulsing red core.
"Adaptive disruptor!" Yuki screamed. "They're trying to overwrite the field!"
Ryoji didn't hesitate.
He moved like a bullet—his blade drawn mid-step. The soldier didn't even see him. One blink, and the arm holding the disruptor was gone, sailing in a clean arc across the chamber. Ryoji's free hand smashed the sphere mid-air. It burst with a snap of ozone and sparks.
"No field reset," he said coldly. "Not today."
Behind him, the silver-haired girl—the Seed—watched without emotion.
Aiko stepped forward again. Her body trembled slightly, not from fear, but from the impossible calibration she now felt inside herself. Her bones itched. Her blood felt too fast. Something was changing. She could feel it—pulsing, aligning with the girl. Not magic. Not fate.
Design.
"Why are you here?" Aiko asked, her voice quieter than the storm outside.
The Seed's eyes flicked to her.
"To wake the garden," she said. "To test the bloom."
Aiko's breath caught.
And then the walls shuddered.
A new sound rose—deep and metallic, like the throat of the world opening. Beneath their feet, the entire platform began to descend.
"Emergency descent protocol activated," Yuki whispered. "We didn't trigger it. She did."
The Seed had already turned away, her bare feet stepping calmly into the center of the platform. The ghost soldiers followed. Not one looked back.
Kane gripped his axe tighter. "What the hell is this place turning into?"
"Truth," Miura said grimly. "Division Zero didn't bury the past. They built it a throne."
As the platform sank lower into the earth, the overhead hatch sealed shut. Aiko turned to Ryoji, her voice urgent now. "She said I'm a bloom. That they were bound to her. What does that mean?"
Ryoji's eyes were steel. "It means they were waiting for you."
6:26 AM — Sublevel Theta-9: The Garden Gate
When the descent stopped, the heat was gone. The Core's hum faded into a kind of static silence. Before them stood a vast, domed chamber—lined with dormant machines, all humming in low-frequency patterns.
The silver-haired girl stopped at the edge of a glowing path. She didn't look back.
"The others will come now," she said. "The garden will call them."
"What others?" Miura snapped.
The Seed didn't answer.
Instead, she raised her hand—and the chamber responded.
Pillars of light activated around her. Interfaces came to life, projectors painting three-dimensional schematics mid-air—of Earth, but twisted. Segmented into color-coded zones. Marked by clusters. Redacted coordinates. Names in Cyrillic, Arabic, Japanese, English.
"This isn't just Division Zero," Yuki breathed. "It's every branch. Every country. Connected."
Aiko stepped closer to the display. The Seed spoke without turning.
"You were not the first to resist," she said. "Only the most important."
Then she turned fully.
"You were grown, Aiko. Built to survive them. That was the purpose of the bloom. To outlast their lies."
Suddenly, the soldiers behind her raised their weapons—again. But not at Groupe Fantôme.
This time, they aimed at the walls.
Because something else had arrived.
From the far end of the chamber, a new signature was walking through the gate.
It wasn't Division Zero.
It was something worse.
And Ryoji recognized the silhouette immediately.
"…No," he breathed. "He's not supposed to be alive."
Aiko turned. "Who?"
Ryoji's jaw clenched. "A prototype. One we thought was destroyed years ago. Code-name: Ashwalker."
The figure stepped into the light—tall, armored head to toe, the armor fused to his flesh, vents glowing dull red, dragging a scorched weapon behind him like a tombstone.
The Seed didn't blink.
"Test begins now," she said.
And the garden roared to life.
To be continued… Chapter 44