Chapter 27 - Running Out of Tomorrows

The sea breeze of Okinawa carried a strange silence that afternoon — a calm that felt too heavy, too fragile. The sky was washed in silver light, and the VTOL’s turbines howled as it descended toward the military airstrip, spraying salt mist in every direction.

Inside the aircraft, the hum of the engines was the only sound between them. Kohaku sat quietly, his gloved hands resting on his knees, the faint red gleam of his visor reflected in the cabin light. Rika sat across from him, arms folded, her gaze distant as if replaying memories she wished she could forget.

Eva broke the silence first.
“So… Okinawa first, before we move to Hawaii?”

Agnes glanced at her, then back to the window. The ocean below glittered like a field of broken glass.
“That’s what command said. But... why the detour?”

Eva exhaled slowly.
“A meeting. A high-level one. Kohaku was personally requested by someone. They didn’t say who.”

Kohaku turned slightly, his tone calm but heavy.
“If it’s an order from HQ, it’s not optional.”

Rika finally looked up, her voice quiet but edged with irritation.
“Then I suggest we go back to Tokyo instead. Okinawa’s full of people I don’t want to see.”

Eva raised an eyebrow.
“What do you mean by that? Someone you know?”

Rika sighed, pressing her fingers against her temple.
“Yeah. My grandfather. Soichi Seijiro. He’s… troublesome. Stubborn, dramatic, and—” she groaned, “clingy.”

Agnes blinked. “Clingy? As in, overprotective?”

“Exactly. He treats me like I’m still ten.”

Eva laughed softly.
“Well, that explains a lot.”

Kohaku didn’t react, his gaze fixed forward.
“Family tends to see the part of us that never grows up.”

When they landed, a formation of Japanese soldiers awaited them, saluting in unison. Kohaku stepped out first, his heavy boots thudding against the steel ramp, the crimson glow of his helmet’s visor dimming as sunlight hit it.

Two figures approached from the command tent — one tall and broad-shouldered, the other elderly yet imposing.

“General Soichi Seijiro, Japan’s Southern Division Commander,” whispered Rika under her breath, her voice tight. “And the other one is General Aaron Mustang from the U.S.”

“Great,” Agnes muttered, “two old lions in one cage.”

As they reached the officers, Soichi’s stern eyes widened the moment he saw Rika behind Kohaku.
“Rika?! What are you doing here?!” his voice cracked with both fury and worry. “I told you not to get involved in these wars! Do you have any idea what could’ve happened to you?!”

Before Rika could answer, Agnes raised her hand casually.
“With all due respect, sir, your granddaughter’s been fighting beside Kohaku since Kyoto. She’s saved more lives than most soldiers here.”

“She what—?!” Seijiro froze, staring in disbelief. His voice trembled. “I… I failed to protect her. Her mother… Suzuki will kill me for this…”

Eva stifled a laugh. “You might be right about that.”

General Mustang clapped once, clearing his throat.
“Alright, family drama later. Commander Kohaku, Miss Eva — you’re wanted in the briefing room.”

Rika and Agnes exchanged glances before heading toward the lodging area. Rika muttered, “This is exactly why I hate reunions.”

Inside the war tent, the atmosphere was tense. Holographic projections displayed tactical grids and flashing alerts over the Pacific.

General Aaron Mustang leaned over the table, pointing at a massive aircraft carrier hologram.
“The ship that’ll take you to Hawaii is the USS Saratoga Mark II. She’s equipped with next-gen artillery and plasma rail defenses. You’ll be leading the spearhead unit.”

Kohaku crossed his arms.
“I’ll refuse if it means more soldiers die under my command.”

Aaron frowned. “They’re the best we’ve got — veterans, handpicked by HQ. You’ll need them.”

“I’ve buried too many ‘handpicked soldiers’ already.” Kohaku’s voice was low, bitter.

Before anyone could respond, an older officer at the corner chuckled — General Dave Burnhide.
“Then perhaps you’d prefer someone you can trust. My daughter, for instance.”

He tapped a screen, displaying a short video. A woman with silver-white hair that shimmered like mercury, heterochromatic eyes — one crimson, one cyan, and a white combat uniform danced across the battlefield with inhuman precision. In seconds, several Soul Beasts lay dismembered around her.

“Vivian Ambrose,” said Burnhide proudly. “We called her Pure Merlin. She inherited more than just her father’s instincts — she’s the culmination of the Merlin Project itself. But...” he scratched his chin, “she ran off on her bike this morning. Likes chasing trouble around Okinawa.”

Eva blinked. “She... hunts Soul Beasts for fun?”

“Something like that,” Dave replied, half amused, half worried.

Far from the base, the roar of a custom Harley echoed through the ruins of Okinawa’s outskirts. A lone figure rode through the smoke and dust, her long hair glinting under the sun like liquid silver.

She stopped at the edge of a collapsed bridge, her yellow goggles reflecting the carcass of a Soul Beast below. With a quiet smirk, she dismounted, unsheathing her blade.

“Target acquired,” she muttered.

Within seconds, the ground shook — and the beast’s roar was silenced by the arc of her strike. As the dust settled.