Chương 100: CHAPTER 98 – Young Salt

"That is all. Following the termination of Abbondius and the prompt analysis of the frequency of the now-director Elise, we declare the operation a success. Lance Klint and Jeanne Goghette will be additionally rewarded for their diligent actions." Maliard closed the notebook, sat in his armchair, and gave an approving nod to the two: one leaning against the doorframe and the other sitting politely at the head of the table. Lance smiled, wiping sweat from his forehead with a white cloth.

Despite his fatigue, he was already dressed in his training clothes: a white tracksuit and a tight pitch-black shirt.

"I agree, but Lance had a little too much fun…" Lautre set down his fourth round of drinks, reluctantly poured by Arte, to point a finger at Lance's nose. Everyone turned toward him, smiling.

"I can say with certainty you have three different perfumes on you, barely distinguishable… How did it go?! At least with one of the three…" Jeanne and Maliard silenced him simultaneously, hurling their respective glasses. He caught both at once, smiling with satisfaction, without noticing the plate that the maid had violently whipped at him. As soon as Lautre hit the floor, the three raised their thumbs with a renewed sense of justice.

"I can't let anyone know what happened…" Jeanne watched around, gripping the armrest.

"For once we manage to gather without Lucas supervising us… I can't let this peace slip away!" Maliard thought, sighing.

"An excellent way to keep him from drinking too much. Well done, guys!" Arte smiled.

"Why can't I be happy if Lance becomes a man?" Lautre, aching and wounded in pride, got back up.

"I have the vague feeling I'm not safe…" Lance sighed, tilting his gaze toward Monica, far too cheerful. The woman cleared her throat, still staring at Lance.

"Come now, don't take it badly, Lancy… There's nothing wrong if you entertain yourself with a little fling away from home. You just need to have excuses ready when you come back here…" She winked at Jeanne, who slammed her hands on the table.

"W-why am I a t-target now?!" Scarlet-faced, Jeanne stared at the laughing faces of the whole team, seeking comfort behind her, but Lance had vanished. Everyone realised the silhouette at the door was now gone. Hoku leaned out the door while the others pointed at the small sweat stains gathered at the corner of the doorframe.

"Looking for Lance? I saw him running down the corridor while repeating something about his room." The man entered and sat down, giving a glance at the files while everyone continued staring at the empty door.

"In any case, have you seen Lucas? He was supposed to introduce today's mission." He said, placing the paper on the table and twirling the pen between his fingers. The door to the room opened sharply as soon as the keycard was read, flooding in all the cold from the window left open since dawn. The boy staggered toward the computer resting on the kitchen table.

"Make sure you bring it to me, so I can teach you how to use it…" He repeated Maliard's words from that morning before the meeting, although they had probably been used more as a convenient excuse than as a memory. He grabbed it and turned to leave, stopping just before the threshold. He turned slowly, almost terrified, toward the sofa.

"Good morning, dear. Sleep well?" Sitting on the sofa, perfectly composed, with his white and blue lab coat perfectly pressed. His mask rested on the armrest, with only the blindfold covering his eye. At the sight of the scientist, Lance sighed, shutting the door with a snap. He gave a nod and grabbed the back of the chair to pull it toward himself.

"Lucas… We both know why you're here, don't we?" Lance smiled as he sat, with a tired and somehow pitiful look. Lucas sighed in turn, first placing his notebook on the table and then handing him a thin sheet of black paper.

"Unfortunately, it's too fast, and I'm too ignorant to stop it…" Lance reluctantly took the paper and unrolled it. Immediately, his face seemed to go blank. He fought with all his strength to stop the instinct to shout as he traced the graphs with his finger.

"These above are all of Aline's analyses shortly before her death, and those below are Jeanne's from the recent period." The two curves rose and fell at the same Frequency. The only exception was a strange slope in the lower graph.

"Is Jeanne showing delusions and mood swings? Be honest, Lance. Defending her now means condemning her." The air became oppressive and toxic in some ways. The boy bit his trembling lip and nodded. Lucas struck the table violently, cracking part of it. His whole arm vibrated, reflecting his overwhelming energy.

"She had an attack of nostalgia… I think she somehow saw her sister. Her name was Mann. She died before her recruitment." The scientist saw Lance's glossy eyes and immediately shook his head.

"Forgive me…" He rebuilt the table with a quick gesture of his hand, then cleared his throat.

"The difference is that Jeanne's progression seems somehow faster. I rule out that it's due to her Meta classification, since Aline was similar." Lance tapped the table, drawing his attention.

"Abbondius… He called Jeanne a being capable of producing a substance called Avidocromo. It's a compound generated from human emotions and then used as fuel. Maybe that's the difference…" He raised his gaze to meet Lucas's face, but found it unsettlingly white.

"How is that possible? Avidocromo has specific markers that characterise it. They can't have escaped me!" He stood abruptly, placing a hand on his forehead. He paced around the table, stammering numbers and notions.

"Is one of them a strong reddening of the eyes and irritability?" The scientist stopped short and nodded. Lance explained the appearance of the signs during the delusions, and Lucas sat back down.

"The Avidocromo is killing her much faster than Aline. She has the same particular physiology, but in Jeanne's case, it can hide quite well in her body. Whatever is trying to merge with their frequency is also at the root of their illness. That substance facilitates the mixing of Frequencies and emotions, and thus the onset of the contamination." Lucas pulled a pencil from his pocket and began forcefully highlighting the line that seemed to merge with Aline's graph, almost joining before the end.

"As with you and August, there is an entity hidden inside you. In your case, however, you seem to have merged almost symbiotically, while Aline and Jeanne were forcibly made to absorb this parasite." Lucas pointed at the flat line on Aline's graph.

"If something isn't done, Jeanne could suffer the same fate as Ofione, or worse, since we have no confirmation that she is showing the signs of a pillar." Lance was reminded of the entity, of the statue in the church, of Lachesi's visions, and of Tux's and Eve's sharp, cryptic words. He stood abruptly, trying to speak.

"Don't do it!" A female voice rang in his brain, and suddenly he felt his throat burn as if he had swallowed pure molten iron. He doubled over, coughing on the table while Lucas held him by the shoulder. For an instant he thought his skin was fraying, his lungs collapsing, his head exploding. Lance slowly resumed breathing under Lucas's bewildered gaze.

"Don't do it, or it will happen again!!" Lance wanted to respond to those cries echoing in his mind, but not a single thought could be made.

"Lance… We can stop here. You've already told me as much as possible; there's no need to…" Lance stopped him, pushing him away.

"Hesitating now would mean wasting everything. This is nothing!" He smiled, raising his thumb. Lucas shook his head, extracting one last sheet, this time pure white.

"This is your graph, and unfortunately, I have unpleasant news here too." His voice was almost soft, mortified as he uttered that diagnosis. Lance smiled, unrolling this small parchment as well. His graph was very similar to the last analysis, except for two additional curves that occasionally appeared alongside the five established ones.

"Lance, this condition is the same one that killed Mr Noir, and it is somehow due to the use of Lachesi, although in your case there don't seem to be excessive repercussions on relic use. I believe the answer is exactly what you're wearing." He pointed at the glasses on his face. Lance smiled, baring the back of his neck and showing him the strange cross stitched into his skin.

"Are these all the relics recovered in Abbondius's extermination?" Lucas asked, and the boy nodded, standing and brushing his fingers against Lachesi. Immediately the scar migrated along his flesh, expanding and clothing him in a long black and scarlet mantle. Concentrating, he made its shape change over and over: a shirt, a military coat, a scarf, and finally a solid breastplate of a burgundy colour. Lucas watched his demonstration in surprise, waving the pencil in the air.

"The mantle can store anything in its folds, but I can't use it to transport myself the way Abbondius did. All the relics are stored inside it, at least most of them." He produced the crosses and chains, causing small ripples inside, as if it were liquid.

"The others?" Lance laid his hand on Lachesi, and suddenly a violet glow burst forth. When Lucas readjusted his sight, he saw the gigantic broken, jagged blade in his hands.

"I tore this weapon from the Teufel inside the Black Mirror. Maverick told me that the vast majority of pure relics are made of Hel's F requency, so Lachesi amplifies my ability to 'steal' to the point of forcing the object to follow me, as long as I caused the owner's death. Even objects very close to me can be stored and modified by Lachesi." As he spoke, he pulled Supplicium from his arm, aiming it at the window. It was identical to its classic form, except for the pitch-black veins on the metal.

"Incredible. Lachesi has evolved again." Lucas murmured, immediately noting it in his notebook.

"I know I'm not the first wielder, but what do you mean by 'again'? Weren't Noir and Bluette capable of it?" Lucas shook his head, setting down his tools and explaining quickly as he pointed at the watch." Lachesi's form depends on the user and their personality. Lachesi functioned as armour for Noir and as explosives for Bluette.

The founder could change appearance at will and enhance all his characteristics when he released it, while Bluette could distort any obstacle to let it pass, almost as if she wanted to create a path. Can you do that?" Lance shook his head, striking the fridge with the edge of his hand over and over.

"Lucas… Who is Mr Noir really?" The air grew even colder, though the window curtains were perfectly still.

"Mr Noir is the founder, as I told you, but he wasn't even like us… Noir was a human being, chosen for some reason by a power he could never have endured." Lance's eyes widened, unconsciously brushing the bracelet bound to his wrist.

"A human being with a relic and unshakable determination is almost as dangerous as a god." These were Maverick's words, now seemingly free of the earlier fog.

"Noir hunted down the remaining Meta, saving what could be saved and exterminating one by one anything that was more creature than man. All living beings produce Frequency simply by existing, but they have no way to use it. I think you understand what can happen when you force that radiation to be used." Lucas stared at the view outside the window, murmuring something between his teeth.

"His Lachesi, when at rest, was a beautiful watch. A bit too grim, but it matched his person very well. Every time I saw him return, though, he seemed thinner and weaker, and yet his charisma never cracked. When I diagnosed him with the tumour and the imminent failure of his entire cardiovascular system, he laughed, saying he had to go help Maliard and Monica." Suddenly he shook his head, turning toward Lance.

"I have promises I cannot break. That's all I'm allowed to say." He stood, grabbing his mask and pointing a finger at the notebook.

"Maybe it's not the best time, but you need to read it. You need to discover the connection with Dyer and everything before Eifibes." Lance gave a nod and grabbed the small notebook.

"Lance… I will help you and Jeanne, I swear." He patted him on the shoulder and headed for the exit.

"One last thing…"

"Has there ever been any news of something capable of resurrecting someone?" Lucas stopped short, shaking his head without a second thought.

"I have no certainty about what the soul is, but when a Meta dies, they become ash. For humans who die under frequency-related conditions… They either mutate or are completely unrecognizable—small piles of ash and blood." Lucas left quickly, letting his silhouette vanish beyond the sliding door. A couple of minutes passed, and when everything seemed to have calmed, Lance hurled the table into the air. He muttered a curse as he tapped his foot on the floor.

He panted, shaking his head, then clamped it between his palms with force. He picked the table back up and put it in place, washing his face with the icy water from the sink. Without even drying the drops falling from his chin, he began to brood, stretched out on the sofa.

"Everything matches that creature. The goddess Eifibes…" He lifted his shirt, revealing the tattoo. Now its shape was truly distinct and unique: together with the black scars, a spiral of hands spread across the centre of his abdomen, reaching for a globe with a small halo. The three bodies and the promise… Is Eifibes perhaps one of the goddesses that makes the appearance of the pillars possible, and is she the one that the impostor wants to exterminate?

But why would an entity like that know me, and why would Malcolm and the lady have a target on her head? He opened his palm and extended it toward the ceiling.

"But that still doesn't explain who the Peaks are and why Termìe erased them. It isn't even certain that what I saw is Matrix or another deity. I don't have a single damn clue to follow!" Lance sat back up, stroking his arm.

"Lachesi is surely connected to that Eirinna, and maybe that Eneook has something to do with the pillar of Erudition. That would exclude the presence of Eifibes among the original deities, making her a construct of the empire, and yet I saw her. Why was her image destroyed to such an extent, and why did that statue change only when I saw it…" He grabbed the notebook and squeezed it between his fingers.

"If every god is connected to a pillar, that means I belong to the same line of descent as Eirinna. But I haven't had any direct vision of my predecessors as Grayson did…" The boy shook his head, getting up to grab a bottle from the fridge. He poured himself the ice-cold concentrate of various orange-coloured fruits and began flipping through the pages.

"For now, let's look for some clues, since talking about it doesn't seem to be an option." He touched his throat for a moment, setting down the empty glass. He opened the notebook fully and began to read.

"Collected writings of Dyer Craft – 192–205 P. E." He read aloud, clearing his throat because of that searing pain.

"Nikola's hologram was recorded on the 207th anniversary, about 400 years ago. That means Dyer disappeared before that recording. How much damn history has been destroyed…" He shook his head, focusing on those words. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

"192 – I dreamed of them again. They called to me, with their deformed bodies. Jaeger was behind them, weeping while those things ate her. Good heavens, those were my friends. Amon… Amon… What the hell is that worm." He turned the page, feeling his heartbeat quicken.

"193 – It's been two years since then, and I've tried to kill myself about thirty times, but this stupid body refuses to die. Why am I like this? I only wanted to give a hand to this world, to my people. Every time I tear my heart from my chest, that girl cries and begs me to make one last effort… And I always do. I don't want to see that chained maiden cry."

"Chained... at Arden Ring and in Grayson's apartment she had chains…" He turned the page again, feeling his heart in his temples.

"194 – Nikola and Evans visited me again. I didn't receive them. I know of the conflicts they're pursuing, but at this moment I'd like to be left alone. I only know that Mercadier is now close to death after the battle and that Evans would like to rebuild Termìe and kill the Emperor. I think he called him Ruby… Nikola probably hates me, and he's right. After all, I'm a coward who failed the operation. Jaeger is suffering… I know. It shouldn't have ended like this."

"He's referring to the Plague? Jaeger is the name cited by Nikola, so she was present among the Cerei. Ruby… The only possible explanation concerns Justicar, and that means the vision from the mirror predates the Plague!" Slowly the pieces began to fill in in his head.

"196 – I met a woman by the river. She often comes to visit me. She is beautiful, with olive skin and a lovely smile. When I see her, I feel my cheeks burn; I don't know why. After these meetings, my ability began to manifest again, and I hear voices echoing in that strange black bracelet I tore from Jaeger as she fused with that Worm… It whispers to me to keep fighting for humanity. But what worth do I have? What hope will they have in seeing me thrown into that vortex…"

"DYER AND JAEGER USED LACHESI! WHY DIDN'T THEY APPEAR?!" Lance stood abruptly, looking at the weapon bound firmly to his arm. In his visions, besides the figure of that woman and the two NOIR commanders, no one else had appeared.

"Indeed, neither Tux nor Eve appeared either, perhaps because they are connected to me? Yet Iusradum is the version of Lachesi wielded by Tux, which means he was a valid wielder…" That doubt seemed to nullify what he had thought. He slumped into the chair, continuing to read.

"In any case, that voice must have been the spirit of Lachesi, so Eirinna existed before Eifibes."

"198 – SHE SAID YES! I'm married to the most beautiful woman in the world! The ceremonies will be in less than a few months. Nikola came to congratulate me and to tell me that Evans is following the war between Termìe and Northest. He says he wants to honour Loten, but I think it's because of the visions he told me about. I'm writing this note while watching the sunset; the horizon is dark. The Plague has expanded, and I hear terrible howls in the night.

Will my family really have the life they deserve in this world?"

"Dyer Craft… I wonder what face he'd make if he knew the Crafts are one of the most important families in the whole archipelago!" Lance smiled, stroking the page.

"198 – I have a son and a daughter! I am a father. My wife was ill throughout the pregnancy… Nikola had said it would be impossible for me to have a child, but we did it! He squeezed my finger, but he was weak, yet I could feel my blood in his heart. I will make sure my son is free to dream. Evans has returned, and Nikola left me his latest research. He says he was visited by one of the Peaks. Umbra prayed to him. A goddess prayed to one of us… Maybe there is hope."

"200 – Five years is how long we have before Amon can emerge and release all the contents of the Plague into our world. My wife has been informed; she objected at first, but in the end she understood. The tattoo on the back of my neck, the symbol of the world, pulses every time I look at that stain in the sky. I gave away that bracelet. The last words it emitted… Win for the future of the world. In five years, I'll find you, Jaeger, and I'll put an end to your suffering."

"His tattoo is like mine… Is Dyer my same pillar? But I've never seen him!" Slowly, he approached the last page written by him.

"205 – I've written at length about the situation and all the events. I've said goodbye to my son Armitage and departed. My dear girl was sent away to study; I hope she can return to a better country. The cart is taking us into the Plague zone. Nikola, in front of me, is finishing the relic. Imperium Globi… That is the lance that will avenge all those who shed blood in this war. I will hand the diary over to my companions. I believe this will be the last time I write."

Lance was about to close the notebook when he saw a small note in different handwriting.

"PS – Dyer sacrificed himself, and I, like a fool, broke his diary. Only a few pages remain, and that's all I'll bring back of him… We won, and I know he is happy. As a scientist, I should be happy, do the logical thing, but I can't. Evans is silent; he knows only the two of us remain. All the Cerei are dead, but we must carry on their wills. Mercadier and Dyer won, and we will not make their deaths in vain. I will not let the future know of this. I will promise to give his son a blank canvas.

The Plague was a ritual, the birth of a vessel, and I'm sure it will present itself again. My body is now exhausted, and the mark of the great iron giant will consume me, but I will not fail. None of us will." Lance closed the notebook, sitting on the chair and resting his forehead on his knuckles.

"I'm not sure of anything at this point. There was no mention of Lotte or Sebastian either, only that Justicar. But I know what to do..."

"... I'll help Nikola keep that promise." The tattoo shifted to the back of his neck, just below the stitched cross. A cold wind entered through the window, and Lance decided to stretch out on the sofa. The sky slowly began to darken, and his body slipped into unconsciousness. He felt himself falling, and yet he was content in his small, silent world.

"Don't stop now… Keep going." Those words slid into his ear, spoken by a voice so distant and yet worlds away. Lance woke with the room light on and a dark silhouette staring at him, yawning.

"If you don't want to wake up, then I'll use force! Sleeping on the job is a big no!" The woman took a running start and jumped onto the sofa while Lance flailed his arms.

"Sorry! I thought you were still sleeping!" She knelt on the floor, pressing her forehead down while the boy rolled over, clutching his stomach.

"It's nothing… But why does it hurt so much?!" Monica got up, smiling, offering him a hand.

"After all, your instinct doesn't perceive danger. You're relaxed, and so your body treats you like a completely normal human being!" Lance laughed, shaking his head.

"Good to know then!" He replied, looking at her more closely. Normally, Monica would have worn some childish shirt and shorts, but now she was dressed in a rather loose blouse and black flared trousers, far too elegant.

"What's the matter? Did I surprise you?" Lance tilted his head, stepping back.

"Those are rather formal clothes… Did something happen?" The smile on Monica's face cracked when she saw Lance's dejected look. She clutched her collar and pointed at the door.

"You should come to the evening meeting. It concerns a new singularity." Lance nodded, opening the door to his room in total silence. He grabbed some clothes and undressed. Monica watched him move in the half-light. The scars and marks on his body were now established, indelible. She looked away when she realised he had finished.

"I imagine they can be disgusting. It doesn't matter. We'll forget quickly." He smiled, leaving the room with her, somehow ever colder. They walked slowly through the corridors, greeting the staff with nods and quick waves. Lance smiled, while Monica kept stealing glances at him, trying somehow to wash away the inquisitive look from earlier.

"Do you feel useless?" They were alone in front of the night window, assaulted by snow. Monica stopped, trying to confirm those words. She paused, letting Lance walk ahead of her. The boy turned, smiling, tilting his head.

"What did you say, Lance?" Monica uttered that question with a trembling hiss, while Lance stared at her, confused.

"Monica... I didn't..." He tried to speak but found himself with his back pressed against the wall and her hands tight on his shirt collar.

"Why are you looking at me like that?! I tried to follow your advice! Just because you're the only one improving doesn't mean you're better than me!" Monica immediately covered her mouth, letting him go.

"Monica… You should rest." She raised a single eye, paling at the sight of Lance. For a single instant, his figure flickered, resembling another boy: hair like platinum threads mixed with tar, eyes as blue as the ocean, and a young, slender face, as beautiful as the peak of male and female beauty. His voice, however, was cacophonous, laden with disgust. Monica stepped back, clenching her fists.

"W-Why are you here?" She trembled while Lance looked around. The corridor was completely deserted, and her gaze was fixed solely on him.

"Monica, it's me, Lance. I didn't speak; I didn't say anything!" Lance raised his hands, rolling up his sleeves to reveal the scars. Her pupils took a few seconds to steady. She panted, leaning against the wall.

"Forgive me… Forgive me, I said unacceptable things." Lance took her hand, smiling.

"Nothing happened, really. But I'd like to know what upset you so much. You seemed scared." Monica nodded, checking a couple of times that they were truly alone.

"These clothes… They were Bluette's uniform." Lance frowned, feeling something twist in his chest.

"Last night I dreamed of her, right in a corridor of the Agency. Everything was dark, with shards of glass under her reflecting the moon. Blood, blood everywhere. A black mass was consuming everything, drawing inexorably closer…" Her hand was becoming clammy.

"And then… I saw him emerge from that darkness. He was exactly as I remembered him." Her heartbeat began to filter through her fingertips.

"Who, Monica?" Lance asked, meeting her dull eyes.

"August Noir emerged from that filth, smiling. His whole arm was covered in black and reddish eyes, each one turned toward me. He turned his head to me, murmured something, and then killed her and threw her into that slime… I couldn't do anything." She was about to collapse, but the boy pulled her upright once more.

"It's just a nightmare. August is dead. It's only us here." Monica leaned on his shoulder and began walking, following his pace.

"Sorry… I'm so pathetic that I came to you for help. I even dressed like my sister." Lance shook his head, smiling.

"It would be unthinkable for you to get back on your feet after a single piece of advice. Everyone has setbacks, even when they give their best." Monica nodded, reaching out to stroke his head.

"The fact is… You look so much like him. When I heard those words, I thought it was August, but it was only you. You're like the only positive memory I have left of him." Lance looked at himself in the window, examining his reflection. He fell silent, walking behind her toward the meeting.

"Monica, do your best. Without you, we wouldn't know what to do!" Monica turned, stretching her hands behind her back and laughing. She stuck out her tongue and raised her thumb, quickening her pace.

"How long will all this last?" Lance glanced outside, devoured by the relentless storm. They arrived in the meeting room, with Lucas projecting the model of a fragmented island into the air. At the centre of the hologram was a wide mountain, layered and sharp-looking, surrounded by various rings of land, some connected by small land bridges. Reconstructions of trees and mounds made the floating projection realistic, with a faint violet hue.

"Welcome. We were just doing a review." Monica sat down while Lance apologised with his head bowed for the delay. The model vanished into the air with a small flash of light.

"Lucas and I have been monitoring the remains of an old military base, Okeanos Station. A gigantic submersible, habitable complex, decommissioned after the treaties were closed. In reality, operations were halted barely a decade ago, but no one ever understood what they were doing down there." Maverick spoke, placing the documents on the table.

"Whatever was being planned was related to a deposit of Lambdite buried in the seabed. Now the entire area could become a singularity, and the simulations don't promise the best…" Maliard murmured, tapping his fingers on the table.

"Even though it's currently perfectly quiescent, if the entire vein were extracted, it should burn itself out without causing a breach." Lucas explained, sitting in his armchair.

"So we're supposed to go to an island and stand by until the extraction is confirmed?" Hoku raised his hand like a schoolboy, looking sideways at Noel, who was just as interested. Lucas and Monica nodded, raising their thumbs. The two looked at each other, smiling.

"FANTASTIC! HOKU AND I ARE OPERATIONAL!" Noel grabbed him and hoisted him onto his shoulder, flexing his muscles.

"Didn't you two just get back from a singularity?" Lautre smiled, swirling the ice in his amber glass.

"Let's not talk about that, please… Our stomachs might have been the only casualties of that breach." Both shook their pale heads at the memory. Monica chuckled.

"Well… As long as you don't slack off, that's more than fine. Edvard and I pass. We can't leave the Agency uncovered." Lautre smiled, and Edvard nodded, rising with a bow.

"I agree. Many agents will be deployed for containment. If there were an emergency in the capital or Sector II, we'd have no way to respond." Maverick raised his hand, smiling as he adjusted his cap, greasy with black oil.

"I've prepared the uniforms, but I still need to finish some projects." He waved and fled the room.

"So the operational members will be Jeanne, Monica, Maliard, Noel, and Sai?" Lucas asked, glancing at Lance, almost collapsed on his chair. One of his eyes was closed, and the other wanted to follow.

"I believe it would be beneficial to deploy both me and Lance Klint." Arte's voice emerged from behind Monica, startling her. Lucas tilted his head, and Lance woke with a start, striking his forehead on the table.

"Despite everything, Agent Lance has always been crucial in all our operations. With so many agents, it's beneficial to also have someone who manages the camp, and honestly, Maliard and Lance are the best homemakers in the agency." Lance shook his head in confusion, while both Jeanne and Monica nodded.

"And what the hell do I have to do with it?!" Maliard slammed his elbows on the table, glaring at Lucas, Monica, and Arte simultaneously. Monica laughed, clutching her stomach.

"Obviously, it's an excellent opportunity for the commander to improve…" She immediately fell silent, lowering her head. Lucas nodded, making the operation official with a clap of his hands.

"I'll pilot the ship, given the lack of reliable ports." Arte slipped away with a bow, quickly followed by Sai, Noel, Lance, and Jeanne.

"Aren't you excited? Finally a vacation!" Hoku and Noel danced, imagining fairy-tale scenarios on golden beaches and crystal-clear seas. Their coordination was genuinely frightening, but both Lance and Jeanne kept that thought in their minds.

"I've never been to the sea with anyone, you know? A couple of times to a fishing village when we delivered harpoons and crates of fruit. The people there challenged me to swimming races…" A shiver ran through the boy, immediately followed by a groan.

"And did you win?" Noel asked, imagining a tattooed giant challenging him in stormy seas.

"Too much, honestly. I was forced into about thirty races at a time…" Hoku wrapped his arms around his neck, smiling.

"You're cruel! Couldn't you let them win?" Lance frowned, confused.

"Isn't it disrespectful to let yourself be beaten on purpose? It's like treating them badly…" Hoku snorted, pulling away.

"You're too good…" Lance scratched his head, smiling. Jeanne stepped between the two, adjusting her collar.

"I've never been to the sea. I-I don't even know how to swim." Noel winked at his friend, who nodded in response. They pushed the two of them together and smiled.

"What's the problem? You heard Lance, didn't you? He'll teach you everything." They said it at the same time, almost merging their voices. Lance flushed crimson, and Jeanne's veiled smile only complicated things. The two raised their thumbs, satisfied with their altruism, while Lance felt his skull turn into a fireball.

"I hope it doesn't last long…" Lance sighed, tired even before boarding.