Return To Persetta

It had been weeks since Tsuki had first spoken to Chiumali.

In that time, Memento’s victories had brought back Judgment Squad for much needed time off and rest. Between the rebuilding efforts and quiet days in Persetta, Tsuki and the others trained under Tona—each session pushing their Solena control further than they thought possible.

Persetta was flickering with new life. The calmness of the war near the region brought a time of prosperity. With the new allies of Zimala and Jon, Persetta’s economy was growing with each day.

Now, Tsuki walked the same paths that her Memento journey began. Instead, cracked paths and worn down walls were now patched. Lush greenery—Viora trees, Sweet Pines, and the vibrant fiery oaks now trimmed and presentable. The fresh scent of incense flowed through the crisp air, blending with the smell of baked bread from a local bakery.

Market stalls were opened along the cobbled streets, manned by calloused hands that now found purpose. Neighbors greeted each other with glimpses of light in their eyes.

Downtown, the rebuilt Memento headquarters towered proudly, its flag—a phoenix over Solena’s ring—fluttered in the breeze.

Tsuki wandered through the city. She pulled her hood back slightly, letting the cool breeze brush her face. Her eyes swayed to the looming cliffs in which she had jumped off not too long ago.

“It all still feels so new,” she said softly, a smile forming on her face. “Even so, the district's growth proves time has passed.”

She passed a narrow alley where little kids played pretend—clumsily mimicking stances and move names. Tsuki’s heart swelled when she spotted a child crouched behind a crate. The young girl wore a mask, and an unmistakable one at that.

A vertical line splitting the dark of shadows, and the white of light. Hers.

Tsuki stepped closer with a smile tugging at her lips. “Hey there Shadow.”

The girl turned quick, and her eyes grew wide in excitement. “H-Huh?! No way… NO WAY!”

She turned without a word, nearly tripping as she yelled for her friends’ attention.

“Guys! It’s her! It’s really

Shadow!”

Tsuki laughed and knelt down, exchanging fist bumps with the children. Awe and admiration filled their faces.

“You all stay out of trouble, alright? That’s an order,” she said, still chuckling.

The girl pumped her fist in the air. “Yes ma’am! I’m gonna be the next Shadow!”

Tsuki’s smile faded into something softer—touched, but also burdened. She gave a final wave before she moved on.

Her wandering continued without aim. Across the cobbled street, two boys sparred with sticks.

“I activate the Second Gate of Alden… Reflect!” The first kid exclaimed. His hand rose in front of him, clearly producing a large Solena shield.

“Ahh! I’m flying backwards! Noo!” Yelled the other. He collapsed dramatically on the ground before giggling.

Tsuki only snorted as the scene played out. She whispered to herself, “Tona’s got Persetta wrapped around his finger. Posters, stickers, even Ghost merchandise… His fanclubs gonna riot the day he smiles at them.”

She paused her thought as a newly opened boutique caught her line of sight. The soft reds and silvers of the dresses gleamed in the afternoon sun.

“Well, a little shopping never hurt.”

Later, Tsuki left the store, buried in shopping bags. She picked a few outfits, but her favorite was the dark onyx—go figure. She walked awkwardly down the street like a lopsided festival float.

“A month’s salary gone,” she muttered, “but these dresses are too damn cute.”

A familiar voice rang out from the air behind her.

“Hey Tsuki!” The voice called.

She turned mid-struggle to see Geo jogging up, hands tucked in his pockets. “Geo! What’re you doing here?”

Geo’s face flushed a bit. “Just killing time before the briefing. Figured I’d explore some.”

He squinted across the road at a small corner restaurant with tables spilling into the street. His eyes turned back to Tsuki, his face somehow more pink than before.

“Food? You? Me? Sounds like destiny, right?”

“Wow, romantic and efficient. What a pitch,” Tsuki teased.

Geo only shrugged, a sharp grin crossed his face. “I try. My treat?”

“If you insist,” she replied. The warmth of the moment brought an easing peace.

The two ducked into the eatery, tucking themselves into an isolated booth. For a few hours, they let the world melt away.

After dinner, Tsuki and Geo wandered back on Persetta’s streets, the world softened by the lowering sun. Golden light washed over rooftops as the smell of sweet pine and spice drifted from open windows. Families bustled inside their homes, and the cliffside in the distance glowed warmly. Side by side, the two walked in an easy silence, the peace of the moment settling between them as they made their way to the briefing.

In front of them loomed Memento’s newly constructed headquarters—a proud, angular structure of stone and steel. At its peak flew a flag that rippled with purpose.

The Phoenix with wings spread wide and a golden circle encircling it, Memento’s symbol, was printed on the flag. It was more than cloth. It was a rebirth, and a promise of revolution.

Geo closed in on the door and reached for the knob. As he pulled it open, he gave a mocking bow.

“After you, Shadow.”

Tsuki smirked and stepped inside. The interior wasn’t finished yet—bare walls, exposed beams—but it was a far cry from the tents they used to plan in. A rich red carpet lined the main corridor guiding them towards the heart of operations: The Wartable Room.

Tsuki and Geo entered one after another, immediately spotting Hatori leaning against a pillar. His arms were crossed, and eyes down. Tona was slouched in a nearby chair. His coat draped over one shoulder, with his arms pillowing his head. At the head table in the center, Maro sat with a sharp gaze.

The room quieted as the two entered. There was a faint smell of dust, but it was quickly drowned by a lavender scented candle—Maro’s favorite. A single beam held sturdy above the center table, and a lone lantern casts its light on the war map.

“Mornin’,” Tona said, breaking the silence.

Tsuki chuckled, “It’s two in the afternoon.”

He offered a lazy smile. “Whoops.”

Hatori raised his head, looking at Tsuki, then moving to Geo. “You guys seen Azumi and the loudmouth?”

“We have not,” Geo responded, smoothing out his hair.

Hatori just lowered his head again. His disappointment creeped through his face. “Figures.”

“I’m sure they’ll show u-”

Suddenly, the door swung open with a bang. Azumi stormed in, dragging Knoxx by the collar.

“Someone get this idiot before I murder him. I’m serious,” she said, her grip tightening in frustration.

Knoxx stuck out his bottom lip in an exaggerated pout. “You wouldn’t…”

Azumi tightened her grip even more. Her eyes were like flares.

Maro cleared his throat with a loud, pointed cough. The tension instantly deflated. Azumi dropped Knoxx’s collar with a huff, and the rascal fell to the ground.

“Good, everyone’s here. Let’s get this briefing started,” Maro said, folding his arms over the table.

Tona raised a hand and gave a sarcastic cheer.

“Shut it Tona,” Maro responded.

Tona shut it accordingly, giving a grin as he closed his eyes. The others snickered behind him.

Maro stood now, placing his hands on the edge of the wartable. A map of Alden’s coastlines with each district carved out lay below him. The lanterns in the room were dimmed, but still gave enough light to see Maro’s determination on his face.

“As you all know,” he began, “just a few weeks ago, we defended Zimala. And now, the four districts aligned with Memento face the true brutality of this war.”

He paused for a moment. His eyes remained on the map, but his finger now traced each border.

“The APC is now getting desperate,” he continued. “Their attacks are increasing. They’re losing ground, and they know it. Which means, they’re looking for momentum.”

The squad leaned in as Maro stuck a marker in the northern region of Riche.

Maro rubbed his chin, “We’re spread thin defensively. Which is why I’m trusting Judgment with something sensitive: overriding Riche’s neutrality in this war.”

“The portside capital?” Tsuki asked.

Maro nodded firmly. His eyes now rose to the squad around him. “Exactly. It’s prosperous, and its people don’t do war. That’s exactly why we’ll get their allegiance through diplomacy.”

“Any idea how?” Geo responded. His arms were crossed, but he listened intently.

Maro leaned over the table, folding his hands together. “You’ll seek out the Riche district's representative to the council. Don’t have a name for you, unfortunately. He’s a slippery one—very noncommittal. But if we shift his allegiance, we cut a vein straight through Central’s heart.”

Hatori spoke next. His eyes didn’t open, and his posture remained relaxed. “And if we don’t?”

“Then we stay on the backfoot. If the APC wins the full support of Riche, any resources and trade we have with them would be out the window. It’d devastate Persetta and the other districts with us.” Maro looked at each one of them, his brown eyes reflected in the lighting. A fiery passion to see the job through.

“There is to be no combat,” he ordered. “We don’t need to look like we’re scheming right under the APC’s nose. As far as we know, they have no military deployed in the district, but it’s best to be prepared.”

Knoxx scratched the inside of his ear. He wasn’t pleased with the ‘no combat’ rule.

“So, we’re diplomats now. Great.”

Maro ignored him. “Danzo will accompany you. Ringo will act as your lifeline. Sending him to Jon with you has come in handy. Orders and updates will come from him.”

“Ah, Ringo! It’s been a while!” Tsuki exclaimed, looking around for him.

“It’s still a while,” Maro muttered. “He’s not here right now. Don’t ask me where he went.”

Tsuki shrugged, rubbing her head. That’s not embarrassing at all.

Geo broke the brief silence. “Got it. When do we move?”

“As soon as you’re packed. Carriage is prepped already,” Maro replied.

Knoxx let out a soft groan. “Carriage? Can’t Tona just gate us there?”

Maro shook his head. A little chuckle escaped his lips before he spoke. “He’s heading the other direction. Would be counter productive.”

Tona opened one eye. A puzzled look crossed his face. “Galion?”

Maro nodded while returning to his seat. The easy air left the room. His smile had faded, and instead, Maro carried a serious expression. “We’ve had confirmed sightings. Huge targets of the Stalker Core—three of ‘em. Memento patrols in northern Galion have gone missing. I need you to scout it. Quietly.”

The room shifted into a tense atmosphere. Nobody spoke except for Memento’s leader.

“Names you’ll recognize. First, Pia the Slayer—manipulates enemy momentum. Highly dangerous.”

Azumi, who had been awfully quiet since she entered, shifted uncomfortably.

“Second, Yodoma, the Hellsinger. Her voice fractures willpower. She can induce terror, distort perception and so on. Very high on our danger list.”

“And the third?” Tona asked. He still lounged on his seat, but his smile was gone. His body was still, and his mouth calm.

Maro continued, “Erodima. Bow of Seeking.”

Tona chuckled. “That one’s pretty self explanatory.”

“Tona, I want to reiterate. No engagement unless absolutely necessary. The risk isn’t worth the reward,” Maro said, fiddling with his thumbs. He tried to mask his obvious concern behind a calm eyes-closed expression.

Tona stood, his coat still draped over his muscular frame like wind-borne silk. His scarf hung neatly from his neck. The mask he proudly wore now was lowered, revealing his sharp jawline, the calm mouth, and his violet eyes that never lost their glow. A quiet confidence that followed him everywhere.

“Please be careful,” Tsuki asked. The others nodded silently as Tona stepped toward the entrance. He paused as he hit the doorway. One foot over the threshold, he turned slightly. One eye was visible from his dark hair.

“Don’t worry about me,” Tona said softly. He flashed a subtle grin. The signature smile. “You all stay safe out there. Good luck.”

And just like that, he was gone. Azumi’s lips curled into a smirk. “That grin, I know it.”

“Yeah, he’ll be ‘scouting’ all right,” Geo responded.

Even Hatori chuckled. “Just first hand, of course.”

Maro didn’t smile, instead, he shook his head. He told him the orders, and yet, he knew what the outcome would be.

“That boy, I swear,” he muttered.

Tona now trudged outside the entrance to Memento’s headquarters. The sun still beamed down casting a beautiful glow over Persetta. He stepped with no urgency, and his hands rested within his pockets.

“Messing with Memento forces in Galion, eh?” Tona whispered to himself. A quiet chuckle escaped his lips. “Three Stalkers… three graves.”

He stepped through a Solena gate, the light swallowing him whole.