First Resonance

[November 11, 22:55 JST]

Nagano Prefecture – Outskirt town

The rain had stopped hours ago, yet the streets still hummed with memory—a low charge crawling along the gutters. Reina adjusted her earpiece, crouched behind an armored transport, her eyes sweeping the fog-thick street ahead.

“Dolce, do you copy? Tempesta here. How’s the evacuation?”

Emi’s voice came soft through the channel.

“Everything’s proceeding smoothly. A small village is easy to clear. The military’s been a big help. What about your side?”

“I’ve spotted black mist near the far end of town,” Reina replied. “That’s the crash zone of Meteor 117; they really came from it.”

Her earpiece crackled—then a scream of static.

“This is Squad Three! We have contact at the back street of Section Four—requesting backup!”

Gunfire rattled through the comms, echoing across the night.

“I’m on it! Pull back, now! Search and rescue only—you can’t hurt them with bullets!” Reina darted from cover, boots splashing through puddles as she sprinted toward the distress signal.

“Mika, take my position. Keep your eyes on the fog. Everyone else—hold your line,” she ordered between breaths.

A brief grin cut across her face. “I’m enough for this one.”

The backstreet was narrow, lined with vending machines and low roofs glistening from the earlier rain. Two soldiers were firing blindly into a rolling mass of black haze, each shot vanishing without sound or spark.

“Save your ammo,” Reina called out, sliding to a halt beside them. “Modern weapons won’t touch them. Watch and learn.”

She stepped forward. The fog seemed to notice—its front edge lifting, forming jagged silhouettes that pulsed with faint red eyes. The shapes moved together, hundreds of them, their collective motion disguising the horde as living smoke.

Reina unclipped her D-Mic from her belt—a slender, black cylinder gleaming faintly beneath the streetlight.

Standing tall, she raised it to her lips.

“Tachibana Reina,” she said quietly, her voice steady as ritual. “Codename Tempesta. Engaging target.”

The mist shrieked without sound and surged forward.

She drew a slow breath—and sang.

No lyrics, no words. Only resonance.

The first note cracked the air like glass under pressure, and the world itself seemed to remember something older than electricity.

Mana rippled outward in concentric rings of light; every puddle mirrored the sigils blooming around her boots—spirals of lighting-script that pulsed in rhythm with her heartbeat.

Two runic sigils flared in her eyes—circles of pale light, revolving like twin halos as the D-Mic’s runes awakened, glowing in bright cerulean as they aligned with her voice’s pitch.

“Ars Aria: Fulminare Cantus.”

Bolts descended from nowhere, not from clouds but from the very shape of her melody—lines of light that bent midair like staves written across the night.

Each strike left runic afterimages hanging for half a second before fading like torn music sheets.

The mist creatures convulsed, their red eyes bursting into sprays of black vapor and fragments of burning glyphs that drifted upward before dissolving.

Reina lifted one hand, fingers poised like a gun, and squeezed the trigger of her imagination.

A single note so bright it fractured the fog ahead. Bolts fired from her gesture, each one a syllable of light spelling the storm’s language.

When the horde closed in, she shifted stance.

The D-Mic hummed a low chord, and lightning condensed along her free arm, shaping into a blade of living current.

She moved through the horde, singing still—a dancer trained to fight in silence.

Cut sang; sparks trailed her arc; the air itself seemed to listen. Within seconds, the fog collapsed, the last motes burning away into nothing.

Only the faint scent of charged mana in the air—metallic. Where the mist once stood, black scorch patterns etched sigils into the asphalt, humming softly before fading.

Reina lowered her weapon, the lightning fading from her eyes as her singing stops.

She clicked the D-Mic off and spoke into her earpiece, her voice calm and precise.

“Level 1 CODA exterminated. Returning to initial position.”

Her reflection shimmered faintly in the puddle at her feet—uniform spotless, the night surrounding her still echoing with the aftertaste of divine thunder.

Somewhere a transformer popped in the distance, like applause too late to matter.

“Acknowledged. Continue with your team’s original mission. We must secure the site for the extraction unit to retrieve the meteorite,” a cold voice replied through the channel.

“Understood, Producer,” Reina answered.

In the Aria Corps, their field commanders were called producers—half manager, half tactician—handling the Diva’s tempo both onstage and on the battlefield.

She gave the two soldiers a short hand signal. “Back to your post. The line’s secure.”

They nodded, shaken but alive, and retreated into the road leading toward the main camp.

Her earpiece buzzed again.

“Tempesta, do you copy? Basilisk here. Fog’s gathering along the main street—it’s starting to move. Permission to initiate assault?”

“Negative, Mika. Wait for regroup. We’ll take them down together.”

Reina adjusted her grip on the D-Mic and began to run. “Emi, status on the evacuation?”

“All civilians cleared. The military’s sealed the perimeter,” Emi replied. “No risk of crossfire.”

“Roger that. Tempesta out.”

She ran through the deserted streets, puddles glinting with streetlight reflections beneath her boots. At the main road, the armored van loomed out of the mist—the squad crouched behind it, six silhouettes outlined by the fog, each gripping their D-Mic like a promise waiting to be kept.

Before anyone could speak, Command cut in again, the Producer’s voice flat and tight.

“Team 02, be advised—multiple signatures inbound. Not just front contact. You’re surrounded. Estimated five thousand Level 1 CODA, mixed with confirmed Level 2s and several roaming Level 3s.”

Emi frowned. “Why would Level 3s join a horde? They hunt in small packs.”

“We’re investigating. Preliminary data suggests Meteor 117 is emitting a frequency similar to Level 3 resonance—drawing them in.”

Silence stretched for a heartbeat before Reina exhaled through her nose.

“Copy that. We’ll handle it. Have our tea ready when we get back, Producer.”

The voice on the line softened.

“I will… Take care, girls. Sorry to throw you into this mess on your first mission.”

Reina smiled faintly. “See you later, Producer.”

She looked over the team.

“Looks like we’re on our own. How do you feel? They say the first mission’s always the toughest.”

Nana cracked her knuckles, flame-light flickering between her fingers. “We were trained for this. We’ll be fine.”

Momoko spun her mic lazily, “I’ll just blow them away before they can blink—”

“—Do CODA even blink?”

Misaki gave a quiet snicker. “Or I’ll pin them down so you can actually aim.”

Emiko’s hand trembled around her D-Mic. “I’m ready,” she said—voice too soft to convince herself.

Mika chuckled under her breath, already channeling the hum of stone through her boots.

Emi said nothing more, only checked her mic and took her place beside Reina.

Reina nodded once, her expression firm. “Let’s move.”

They stepped out from cover. The black fog was closing from every direction now—an ocean of shadow threaded with glints of red eyes. Among them lumbered the larger shapes of Level 2 CODA, their bodies half-formed and glistering like molten silhouettes. Behind the mass, hulking shapes prowled—Level 3s, animal-shaped, all muscle and hunger.

Reina raised her D-MIC; the team mirrored her.

“Shirakawa Emi, Codename Dolce—ready.”

“Tatsuna Mika, Codename Basilisk—ready.”

“Nagai Nana, Codename Helia—ready.”

“Uyeda Momoko, Codename Galea—ready.”

“Miyagawa Emiko, Codename Seraph—ready.”

“Kishi Misaki, Codename Atlas—ready.”

Reina’s voice cut through their rhythm—steady, commanding.

“Ars Aria: Fulminare Cantus.”

The night answered.

Lightning began to coil in the air, the ground trembling under the hum of their combined resonance. Sigils flared in each of their eyes—seven runes burning like stars in the fog. Their songs merged, forming a single heartbeat. The air shimmered, alive with power.

For the first time, Aria Corps team 02, Tempesta Unit sang together.