Lucina and Faustina received a sudden transmission from Marine Headquarters. Lucina answered the call, her expression unreadable as she listened in silence. No one could discern what was said on the other end, but once it ended, she turned to the pirates and spoke with calm authority.
"Our duel ends here, Nathaniel. We've been summoned elsewhere. As much as I'd enjoy settling this now, our orders take precedence. Consider yourselves fortunate—for today."
She raised her arm, signaling the withdrawal.
Nathaniel lowered his pistol, returning it to his belt without a word. Faustina gave an exaggerated sigh and turned her back with a shrug.
"Aw, well. Looks like duty calls, cutie," she said with a teasing wave at Elliott. "Next time, I won't go so easy." She barked her orders without losing her playful tone, "All right, you pack of fools! Knees up—we've got another stage to crash!"
The marines obeyed and began their retreat. Lucina remained a moment longer, her gaze locked on Nathaniel.
"When you've sharpened your aim… maybe then I'll consider forgiving your betrayal. Until that day, Nathaniel—you're just another enemy."
With her pristine white cloak billowing behind her, she turned and followed her fellow officers into the distance.
Kyora let out a relieved breath and plopped to the ground with a dramatic thud. "Yikes… Those two give me chills. I'm glad something else caught their attention."
Elliott stared down at his open palm, faint traces of static flickering across his skin.
"I need to get stronger," he muttered. "If I want to control my channeling… I've got to push further."
He clenched his fist, and the sparks vanished into silence.
Ralphie, Celeste, and Kou stood at the base of the mountain steps, tension hanging heavy in the air.
"This is a disaster," Kou muttered, collapsing to his knees. Sweat dotted his brow as anxiety gnawed at him. "We haven't seen Aurora in seven hours. We're dead. We're so dead."
Then, a calm voice broke through the moment.
"I heard Aurora."
All three snapped to attention. Kou's head whipped around, ears almost twitching as he shot up from the ground. His face lit up. "Aurora! You're alive?! Thank the stars I asked for your name when I did!"
Standing beside Aurora was a composed young woman with graceful posture and striking features. Kou blinked, pointing subtly. "Uh... and who's she...?"
Aurora nodded. "This is May. I met her back on Casinova Island. It's a long story, but she helped me out of a bad situation."
Before Aurora could elaborate, Ralphie suddenly sprang forward like a fired cannon, sliding dramatically in front of May on one leg before striking a ludicrously suave pose.
"May, huh?" he purred, puffing out his chest and smoothing back hair he didn't really have. "Like the month of blossoms and beauty. Well, isn't that fitting—because my heart just bloomed the moment I saw you."
May raised a brow, clearly unimpressed.
"I'm Ralphie. All legs, no brakes, and a heart faster than a bullet train. How about you and I skip the mountain and take a detour to dinner, huh?"
Kou groaned, facepalming. "Here we go…"
Celeste sighed, crossing her arms. "One of these days, someone's going to throw you off a cliff mid-sentence."
May glanced at Aurora, unbothered. "Is he always like this?"
"Only when he sees a girl that's not trying to kill us," Aurora replied dryly.
Ralphie, undeterred, gave a dramatic wink. "What can I say? Danger makes the heart grow fonder."
Ralphie paused mid-flirt, squinting at May with sudden clarity. "Wait a sec... your hair... those eyes... that fierce look—you kinda remind me of Temoshí."
The instant the name left his lips, May's expression snapped. Her eyes went wide as saucers, and she lunged forward without hesitation, seizing Ralphie by the lapels of his flashy suit.
"Did you just say Temoshí?!" she shrieked, shaking him like a maraca. "Where is he?! Tell me right now! I need to see him—like, immediately! It's urgent!"
Ralphie's pupils spun in circles as he rattled back and forth, limbs flopping uselessly. "W-whoa—strong grip—c-could we—maybe—grab dinner f-first?!"
May blinked, completely ignoring his dazed, lovestruck look. "Focus! Temoshí! Where?!"
"I-I dunno!" Ralphie stammered, eyes full of dizzy affection. "But if you're this passionate about me, I promise I'll find him with you! We'll travel the world! Be a power couple! Maybe share a room—?"
She shook him even harder.
"Not about you! Temoshí!"
Kou snorted from the side, holding in laughter. "He's dead."
Celeste sighed. "He's not dead, Kou. Don't add fuel to the fire."
Meanwhile, Aurora just rubbed her temples. "We literally don't have time for this chaos."
Still, Ralphie, red-cheeked and hearts in his eyes, managed a weak thumbs-up as he dangled from May's grip. "Best... interrogation... ever…"
Aurora turned to May, a puzzled look on her face. "Why are you freaking out so much, May? I told you he was our captain. What's with the sudden drama?"
May's eyes narrowed, and she exploded with frustration. "You never told me his name, damn it! If I'd heard it back then, I would've reacted the same way! Now quit stalling and tell me where he is—I need to see him. He's my brother!"
Everything stopped. The air froze. Silence fell over the group like a heavy curtain.
Ralphie, Kou, and Celeste all gawked at her in disbelief.
"Wait... you're Temoshí's older sister?" Kou blurted, eyes wide. "But... he said his sister was... dead. That he killed her."
All eyes locked on May, whose gaze burned with urgency.
"He tried," she said coldly. "He severed my soul. It's called Soul Severance. But I survived. Barely. And now none of that matters—I just need to find him. You said he's your captain, right? Then you must know where he is!"
The group stood stunned, trying to grasp the weight of her words.
"…Okay," Ralphie muttered, still recovering. "First off, soul-severing sounds very complicated... second, why are all the scary, hot women related to murderers?"
Celeste smacked him on the back of the head.
"He's your captain?!" Celestenshouted, her voice echoing like a thunderclap. The sheer force of it made Ralphie drop flat to the ground with a startled yelp. Celeste, without missing a beat, gave him a well-deserved smack on the back of the head.
"Excuse me, Aurora," Celeste said, standing tall with an intense look in her eyes. "We need your help with something, if you're up for it. You're a musician, right?"
Aurora blinked, confused. "Uh, well, I'm not exactly a full-blown musician yet, but I know a thing or two about lyrics and songs... though I've never actually written one. Still kind of a beginner here."
Celeste wasn't phased in the slightest. "Perfect! That's exactly why we need you. We have two hours—two hours—before we have to throw a dance party, and we need you to make a full song. You're the one for the job!"
Aurora's brain short-circuited. "Wait, what? You want me to write a whole song in two hours? I can't even write a decent grocery list that fast!"
Celeste pressed on. "120 minutes should be plenty! Come on, Aurora, you got this! We believe in you!"
May, standing there looking bewildered, finally spoke up. "Wait, wait. What about Temoshí? Shouldn't we be—"
Kou, jumping in like an over-caffeinated squirrel, added, "Forget about Temoshí! Song time, Aurora! Let's make this happen, whatever it is! Just make it fun!"
Aurora's face went blank. "I... I don't even know where to start! I can't just whip up a song like that!"
Kou clapped his hands together. "Just make it awesome, whatever it is! No pressure. It's only the most important song ever!"
Aurora stared at them for a moment, her shoulders sagging. "Okay... fine. If this makes you all sleep at night, I guess I'm writing a song now. No big deal, right? We're screwed."
"Alright, let's get started!" Kou said, practically bouncing on his feet. "We need lyrics, instruments, singing—basically everything! You can do all that, right?!"
Aurora's eyes widened. "Huh?! Instruments?! Singing?! Are you out of your mind?! I can't do all of that in two hours! I need at least a week! Can't you show a little mercy here?!"
But Kou, with all the subtlety of a bulldozer, gently pushed her forward. "I know it's gonna be tough, but I believe in you, Aurora. We'll help out, I'm sure two hours will be plenty!"
"No, it won't!" Aurora snapped, flustered and overwhelmed.
Celeste, who had been quietly observing, stepped in, her voice calm but firm. "I'm sorry for piling all this on you, but we can't find Hollow without your help. Please, Aurora, trust yourself—and us. We can make this happen, even if it's difficult."
Aurora, taken aback by Celeste's unexpected praise, stood there for a moment, feeling the weight of their belief in her. A small smile tugged at her lips.
"You know what? Yeah. If I'm not good at fighting, at least I can do my best with this. Two hours, huh? Let's get to work."
Aurora hunched over the splintered wooden table, a half-broken quill clenched between her fingers and a crumpled scroll flattened beneath her hand. The moment the task had been dropped on her shoulders, her brain had gone into overdrive. Her pen flew across the page, barely keeping up with the torrent of half-rhymed thoughts that flooded her mind. She scribbled, scratched out, rewrote, and underlined in frantic succession. Every time a new line struck her, she'd blurt it out under her breath, then wince and scratch her head as she tried to decide whether it was brilliant or garbage.
All around her, chaos unfolded.
Kou couldn't sit still. He dashed around the room like a child on a sugar high, tapping his foot against everything he passed, trying to find the "perfect rhythm." He smacked the walls, flicked his fingers against bottles, and even banged his heel on the edge of a barrel, declaring, "That's the beat! That's the one!"—only to forget it five seconds later. "F*ck it!"
Celeste stood dramatically on a bench nearby, holding an imaginary guitar made from a broken broomstick and string. She ran her fingers across the air like she was on stage at a world tour. Occasionally, she'd shout out phrases like, "Feel the music in your soul!" or "Let the rhythm consume you!" Aurora looked at her, utterly bewildered and slightly terrified.
May, new to the group but already deep in the chaos, rummaged through the old crates nearby. She emerged victoriously with two rusted pans and a metal ladle. "Instruments secured!" she announced with pride, handing them off to Aurora, who blinked at her with an expression somewhere between gratitude and panic.
Kou set up his makeshift drum kit—an upside-down barrel, a couple of empty boxes, and a frying pan hung from a string. He grabbed two sticks and immediately began hammering out random beats, shouting, "I call this rhythm 'Lightning Monkey Breakdown!'" The result sounded like a war between a raccoon and a kitchen.
Aurora attempted to focus again, but now Celeste had transformed into a full-blown vocal coach. She wrapped a scarf around her neck, held a ladle like a mic, and began belting out exaggerated notes that climbed so high they made dogs bark in the distance. "Diaphragm! Use your diaphragm, Aurora!" she cried, pirouetting across the floor. Aurora could only gape in horror.
Meanwhile, Kou and May tried to tune an old violin they found tucked under a table. Neither knew how it worked. Kou twisted one peg too hard and snapped the string. May gasped like she'd witnessed a murder. "It's okay! We'll... improvise!" Kou declared, grabbing a comb and pretending it was a harmonica.
Celeste banged a spoon against a pot in an attempt to build a rhythm section. She seemed convinced that syncopation was the way to go—unfortunately, nobody knew what that meant. Every beat she hit was off from Kou's drumming, who was already off-beat himself. May attempted to join with some cymbals made of metal lids, but dropped one on her foot and started hopping around while yelling, "I'm fine! It's part of the performance!"
Aurora's hands trembled as she pressed down another line of lyrics, this one something about "every breath feels like a symphony..." She looked up at the madness surrounding her—Celeste was now doing interpretive dance, Kou had somehow turned the broken violin into a bow for pretend archery, and May was balancing a pan on her head. Despite the insanity, Aurora couldn't help but smile.
Then came the actual singing practice.
Aurora stepped forward with her "microphone," which was just a long stick someone had stuck in a bucket. She took a deep breath and let out the first note. It cracked. Kou winced. Celeste snapped her fingers and shouted, "Again! But with more passion!" May cheered, "You got this!" while shaking a makeshift tambourine made out of bottlecaps.
Aurora sang again. This time louder. Clearer. Her voice, though far from professional, began to steady. The others stared. It wasn't perfect, but it was something. Kou stood dumbfounded, then gave a thumbs up. Celeste clutched her chest dramatically, whispering, "She has it." May blinked and whispered to Kou, "Wait, she's actually good?"
The preparations stretched on with dozens of comedic misfires and mini-successes. May got stuck inside a cardboard box labeled "bass amplifier" and had to be pulled out by Kou. Celeste fell off the bench mid-power note and pretended it was part of the choreography. Kou's "drumsticks" snapped, so he resorted to using two spoons, then somehow ended up drumming on Aurora's back like a conga. "You're the soundboard now!" he claimed. Aurora smacked him with her lyrics scroll.
Eventually, things started to come together. They found an old keyboard with three working keys and used it for transitions. Celeste figured out how to clap in time—sort of. May coordinated a beat using the pan, Kou's barrel, and Aurora tapping on the table. They layered it, one strange sound at a time, until the tune began to take shape.
The lyrics got cleaned up, with Kou crossing out every mention of "exploding pineapples" and Celeste insisting they rhyme at least every other line. They debated themes: love? Hope? Freedom? In the end, they settled on a cheesy but powerful anthem about unity, dreams, and "shining through the darkest tides."
As the final minutes ticked down, their setup looked like a creative battlefield—papers scattered, pans dented, Kou's hair full of glitter for some reason no one could explain, and May with an eye patch made of clothespins. But it worked.
Aurora stood in the center, gripping her stick-mic, sweat on her brow, eyes filled with determination. She glanced at her companions—chaotic, weird, but full of energy. She took a deep breath, then turned toward them with a small grin.
"Alright," she said, voice tired but proud. "We did it. Two hours, one song... and a whole lot of madness."
To be continued...