Alma and Axel

The improvised dining hall inside the shelter smelled of stale bread and lukewarm broth. The faint glow of oil lamps barely managed to push back the shadows, and the constant murmur of soldiers and refugees filled the air with tension. Axel, sitting off to the side, couldn’t shake the feeling that every breath carried the weight of expectation—everyone seemed to be waiting for something else to happen.

Amidst that restless noise, on a table covered with blankets, lay the newly arrived girl. Her breathing was uneven, and a crude bandage wrapped around her blood-soaked side. Kneeling beside her, Lucy had just finished closing the wound, her hands glowing with a faint light. Sweat beaded across her forehead; using her healing gift always left her drained.

“That’s the most I can do for now,” Lucy murmured, her voice thinner than usual.

The girl, still pale, forced a smile as she slowly sat up. A strand of her pink hair—like scattered sakura petals—fell across her face. She brushed it aside and lifted her gaze to the group around her. There was something in her violet eyes: not the look of someone broken, but of someone still willing to fight.

“My name is Alma,” she said firmly. “And I need you to listen.”

The murmur in the dining hall ceased at once. Axel felt a shiver crawl up his neck—something in that voice demanded his attention.

“We were attacked in the city of Flowing River. It was two of them…” Her breath faltered for an instant, but she pushed on. “Two soldiers in the service of Alexis IV. They came out of nowhere and started tearing everything apart, looking for someone named Axel.”

Axel’s and Lucy’s eyes met immediately. No words were needed to understand how dangerous that detail was.

“We didn’t understand. He’s dead,” Alma continued, unaware of the sudden shift in glances. “That’s what we told them. But they shouted the opposite, and the people… the people panicked.”

Her fists clenched tightly against her knees.

“I… I have a younger brother. He’s the kind who can’t stand injustice. When he saw one of those soldiers hurting a friend, he rushed in to protect him.”

Her voice cracked for a heartbeat, though her expression held that same unyielding smile, as if refusing to let weakness slip out.

“They were about to kill him.” Her tone hardened. “I couldn’t let that happen. I threw myself at them, I fought back.”

A ripple of astonishment spread across the table. Axel leaned forward unconsciously, drawn in by the force of her words.

“My parents had a dojo,” she added briefly, as though she didn’t want to linger on the past. “I’ve been trained to fight since I was a child. I was never good with soul energy—never—but with my fists and body… that’s different.”

Her hand brushed against the bandage, and she took a deep breath.

“I managed to hold one off for a moment, but the other got me.” Her voice dipped lower. “He drove a dagger in right here.”

Lucy, who had seen the wound up close, closed her eyes. She couldn’t understand how this girl was still talking, let alone sitting upright.

“The townspeople intervened,” Alma pressed on. “Chaos broke out. I barely had time to grab my brother. He refused to leave me, insisted on fighting, but I didn’t give him a choice. I knocked him out with what little strength I had left and dragged him to safety…” Alma drew in a breath, steadying herself. “In our town, we have a shelter—something like a bunker. It was built long ago, after other attacks, to protect the most defenseless when things turn dire. That’s where the children, the elderly, and those who cannot fight always go.”

Her violet eyes lifted with a mix of pride and relief.

“I left him there, hoping he’d be safe. If there’s any place that could protect him, it’s that shelter.”

A heavy silence filled the hall. Axel swallowed hard, a knot tightening in his chest.

“Malva was there,” Alma said then, and the name hit Lucy like an unexpected blow.

“Malva?” Lucy snapped her head up, eyes wide.

“She asked me to find help. She couldn’t abandon the others. She pushed me onto a strange cart—something that seemed to move on its own… and I ended up here.” Alma leaned forward, her violet eyes burning with urgency. “Please… help us.”

The silence grew unbearable. Lucy’s brow furrowed, her mind racing faster than she could process. Something in this story reeked of a trap, a plan too calculated to be mere coincidence. Alexis IV must already know where they were.

Before she could form a response, Axel moved.

He rose from his seat, stumbling yet determined, and walked to Alma’s table. He placed a hand gently on her shoulder.

“Don’t worry,” he said with a warmth that startled everyone. “I’ll help you.”

Lucy instantly brought a hand to her forehead.

“Axel…!” she hissed, incredulous.

Alma blinked, taken aback. A faint blush tinged her cheeks, though her smile remained steady.

“Thank you. And you… who are you?”

“I’m Axel.”

The air froze. Lucy nearly choked. Had he really just said his name, so carelessly, in front of a stranger?

Alma blinked several times.

“Oh… of course. Axel. I suppose it’s a common name.” She let out a small, nervous laugh. “I’ve never seen the ‘great Axel’ everyone talks about, but… it comforts me to know someone else carries the name.”

Lucy released a long sigh of relief. They had narrowly avoided disaster—at least for now.

She leaned forward, seizing control before Axel could make things worse.

“Don’t worry, Alma,” she said firmly. “We’ll handle this.”

Alma nodded gratefully and let her body sink against the backrest of her chair.

Lucy, however, felt her blood boil. She couldn’t stand injustice, and the thought of that town being torn apart burned her from within. She stood abruptly, her voice sharp with command.

“We’ll form a squad. We need to move immediately.”

The soldiers and comrades nearby answered with murmurs of assent.

“Wait!” Axel’s voice cut through, louder than expected. He stepped in front of Lucy, his expression uncharacteristically fierce. “I’m coming too.”

Lucy shot him a glare that could kill.

“No. Your duty is to stay here, train, and keep yourself safe. This isn’t your place.”

“Not my place?” Axel clenched his teeth. “You brought me here. You threw me into this war. The least you can do is let me choose which battles I want to fight.”

Lucy stepped closer, ready to knock him out just to end the argument. But then she froze.

For an instant, superimposed over his figure, she saw the silhouette of another Axel. That Axel. The one burned into her memory.

“Lucy, please,” Axel said. But the voice that came out wasn’t his.

Lucy’s legs trembled. There was no time for hesitation. She shut her eyes, bitterness etched across her face, and nodded.

“Fine. But you stay in the back. You only act if it’s absolutely necessary. Understood?”

Axel nodded, heart pounding in his chest.

At that moment, Martín strode in briskly, cutting through the tension.

“Everything’s ready, Captain.”

Lucy turned to him, her commanding tone restored.

“Perfect.” She faced the group and raised her voice. “Time to kick some ass!”

A roar of approval erupted in the dining hall. The air bristled with determination. Alma, watching from her chair, felt a pang of frustration at not being able to join them. Yet when her eyes lingered on Axel’s back, something stirred within her—he looked immense, towering. And with all these thoughts swirling in her head, she could only pray that they would all return safe and sound.