The night sky of Dead Omen Star hung heavy with violet clouds, their edges frayed by the ceaseless winds that scoured the crimson sands below. The Empire's team stood at the cave's edge, their mechs battered but unbowed, their breaths uneven from the ordeal within the Creeping Rose's lair. The air, though free of the cave's cloying miasma, carried a faint metallic tang, a reminder of the blood and ichor spilled in their escape. Cen Yuehuai, her mech's lights casting stark shadows, noticed a subtle shift in Bai Sha's demeanor—a fleeting vulnerability that belied her usual stoicism. Switching to a private comms channel, she leaned closer, her voice soft with concern. "Your Highness, what's wrong? Are you unwell?"
Before Bai Sha could respond, Cen Yuehuai toggled back to the public channel, her tone brisk. "Should we call for a rescue team? We might need detox agents…"
"I'm fine," Bai Sha replied, her voice steady, its calm cadence betraying no hint of the turmoil within. It was the same assured tone she always wielded, a shield against doubt.
Cen Yuehuai's brow furrowed, unconvinced. "Neural toxins aren't a joke. Anyone who's slipped into a hallucination needs a detox shot, stat—me included. But your reaction… it was odd. The Rose's gas is supposed to conjure sweet dreams. You didn't look happy at all."
Bai Sha fell silent, her gaze drifting to the star-strewn horizon. Happy? She couldn't say. In the cave, she had teetered on the edge of dream and reality, caught in a liminal haze where fragments of a lost life flickered like dying embers. The urge to plunge back into the toxic depths had been overwhelming—not for the thrill of battle, but for the chance to glimpse more of those blurred memories, to see the faces of those she might have forgotten. The young couple in her vision, their warmth and laughter, had felt achingly real. She was certain the woman was Sipes Ronin—her voice, her cadence, matched the training chip Sipes had left for Cecil, a relic Bai Sha had studied exhaustively. There was no mistaking it.
As Cecil had once speculated, Sipes Ronin, after abdicating her role as imperial heir, had wandered the cosmos, finding love and, perhaps, a child. Bai Sha's frown deepened as she sifted through the hallucination's details: metallic bridges spanning a sea of clouds, buildings aglow with pearlescent light, airships drifting with an elegance distinct from the Empire's or Federation's technology. The place was called… Solitude? The name stirred no recognition, despite her exhaustive study of imperial histories. Yet it was a thread, fragile but tangible, that might unravel the mystery of her origins—where she came from, how she had arrived on Blanslow Star, and, most crucially, whether her parents still lived.
But it was only a hallucination. Could memory deceive her? She recalled the exhaustion of a sleepless night, the disorienting blink that had hurled her across the stars to Blanslow. Was the tearful, innocent child in her vision truly her? The question gnawed, a splinter in her mind.
A sudden buzz, like a hornet trapped in her skull, brought a stab of pain. Bai Sha winced, her hand brushing her temple. Cen Yuehuai, ever vigilant, leaned in. "Your Highness, you're not okay. I knew it." She sighed, her own voice heavy with fatigue. "I'm nauseous, and everything's doubled. We need detox—now."
Bai Sha's enthusiasm for the exercise waned, replaced by a quiet resolve. "What's the organizers' response?" she asked, her tone clipped.
Cen Yuehuai relayed the update. "They're sending a team to seal the cave and designating a fifteen-kilometer radius around it as a restricted zone. The exercise continues for now."
Bai Sha's lips tightened, a flicker of frustration crossing her face. Xino, approaching in his mech, spoke with measured gravity. "Queens are rare, but not impossible. The priority is disrupting the incubation. These bugs are cunning, nesting deep in the caves, linked to the mountains. Their depth is unknown. Even a fleet bombardment might not root them out. If a Queen emerges, we'll need far more resources to contain Dead Omen's threat."
Experience had taught them that halting a Queen's birth was paramount; allowing the swarm to strengthen was a strategic disaster. Bai Sha's voice was slow, deliberate. "So, someone will have to go back down. I'm requesting a temporary withdrawal from the exercise to join the Rose eradication team. Our points already dwarf the Federation's."
The Federation team, whether cursed by ill fortune or blessed with survival, lagged far behind, their score a fraction of the Empire's. Xino, however, shook his head, his tone firm. "With respect, I disagree. I suspect you're still under the toxin's influence, fixated on returning to that poison pit."
Bai Sha met his gaze, unflinching. "I do want to go back."
The Bugs couldn't kill her. At worst, they'd leave shallow wounds—scratches compared to the answers she sought. The trade was worth it. Since arriving in the Empire, she had wanted for nothing, but privilege hadn't softened her. Military training, sparring with Uriel, countless hours in simulators—she had endured pain, far worse than in her Federation days. The Empire's medical technology was a marvel: injuries healed in minutes, vitality restored by nutrient infusions. There was no time to linger in weakness; combat demanded her return. When exhaustion crept in, she turned to her true passion—tinkering with mechs, a luxury the Federation never afforded. That work, more than anything, brought her joy, a purpose that shaped her. In just over a year, she had transformed, her Ronin lineage a catalyst, but her relentless drive the crucible. This was how she proved herself, how she carved her identity.
Yet now, her memories were a tangled skein, hinting at a life where she might have been someone else. Worse, her mind screamed for those lost moments, craving their warmth like a starveling at a feast. "I need to go back," she said, her voice low but resolute. "The Rose's gas… it's useful to me."
"Your Highness!" Jiya's eyes blazed, her tone sharp with barely restrained anger. Overhearing the exchange, she stepped forward, her loyalty warring with concern. "You're our commander. You can't abandon the team. Those gases are toxic—dangerous. They're the raw material for a banned drug. Addiction is a real risk."
Bai Sha's expression softened, but her resolve held. "This is a rare chance. Never again will so many Roses converge like this. I'm not addicted to the hallucinations, nor will I fall to 'Rose's Dream.' There are things I need to confirm."
"Then explain it to His Majesty," Xino said, his voice unyielding. With a deft motion, he patched their comms to Youdu Star, connecting directly to Emperor Cecil Ronin.
Bai Sha's eyes narrowed, a spark of betrayal in her gaze. "So, you're my uncle's spy now?"
Xino stood his ground, his tone dry but earnest. "Duty calls, Your Highness. I'm your sworn guard. Normally, I'd back you, but not this time. If you get hurt, my family's done for." He gestured to the comms. "Talk to him."
Bai Sha sighed, steeling herself, and accepted the video call. Cecil's voice, distorted by the interstellar link, was stern. "When Xino signaled, I knew you were planning something reckless. Your condition isn't fit for a Queen hunt."
Physically, Bai Sha was unscathed, her mech intact. But her mental state was another matter. She muted the team's channels, leaving only Cecil's active, and spoke with a rare, halting sincerity. "I remembered Mom."
Cecil's eyes widened, a flicker of shock breaking his composure. For a moment, he was speechless.
"Just fragments," Bai Sha continued, her voice soft. "And… probably Dad, too. A man, I think. The gas triggered it—bits of memory, like shards. I want to go back, see if I can piece together more."
"No," Cecil cut in, his tone cold, his blue eyes stormy. "You're not going down there."
Bai Sha blinked, confusion creasing her brow. "Why? You've always wanted to find Sipes. You chase every lead about her. Uncle—"
"You call me uncle," Cecil said, his voice softening but firm. "That's why I won't let you risk it. You're exceptional, but a Queen—incubating or not—is beyond you at your age. Either return to the safe zone and continue the exercise, or come back to Youdu. No negotiation."
Bai Sha's shoulders slumped. "Fine."
She ended the call, the silence heavy. Both knew this was a singular chance to reclaim her past. When Bai Sha first arrived in the Empire, Cecil had recognized her amnesia as abnormal. He summoned experts, employing every medical and psychological tool to unlock her memories, suspecting trauma or tampering. Tests confirmed her mental resilience, yet no trace of manipulation was found—just a void, like a knot with no end. This was the first time memories had surfaced, their source a mystery even to her.
She needed to try again, didn't she? Bai Sha's gaze locked on Xino, sharp and unyielding. He offered a strained smile. "I'm not going down," she said, pointing at him. "But I want the cave's gas. Tell them to bring containers—take as much as they can."
It was chemistry, replicable with effort. Xino glanced skyward as starships descended, their hulls glinting in the starlight. The medical team Cen Yuehuai had summoned arrived, medics bustling with detox kits. "The agents are here," Xino said. "Let's dose up, then talk. Agreed?"
Cen Yuehuai jabbed herself with a detox shot, relief washing over her as clarity returned. Bai Sha, beside her, received the same treatment. The agent worked swiftly, dulling the pain in her temples, cooling the fevered urge to chase her memories. She lifted her gaze, her expression impassive. "Can we talk now? I want those gas samples."
Xino sighed, signaling a medic for another dose. The second shot deepened the calm, the pull of the cave fading like a receding tide. "Your Highness?" he called, tentative. "We're doing this for your sake."
Bai Sha nodded, silent, her acquiescence a reluctant compromise. Her emotions churned, a tangle of longing and restraint. She recalled the gas's promise: to conjure the heart's deepest desires, to resurrect life's sweetest moments. Were the memories she'd lost so radiant, so precious, that their absence left her hollow?
The starships' engines roared, their lights cutting through the night, as the team prepared to withdraw, the cave's secrets left to the fleet. Bai Sha stood apart, her mech a solitary silhouette against the stars, her thoughts adrift in the echoes of Solitude.