Roxy reached out, fingers brushing the wooden surface as though she were stroking an old memory. For a fleeting second, Skyler caught something new shimmering through her facade—gentleness, fragile and fleeting—before the mask of iron returned.

He looked around again. The wooden houses, scattered without any rigid grid, somehow made the place more alive. Each roof was thatched not with straw, but with leaves fused to thin nanotech sheets—repelling wind, rain, and channeling the luminescence of the crystal ore below. To the eye it looked rustic; in truth, sturdier than any skyscraper in Cosmic City.

The central square was paved with pale stone polished to a mirror sheen, arranged in layered circles. Beneath, Gaia’s energy veins pulsed, feeding light, water, air, even communication—an organic network more alive than any circuit board.

Skyler knew the answer before asking, but couldn’t help himself.

“Your father… he built all this?”

Roxy nodded without hesitation. “All of it.”

No boasting. No smile. But Skyler could feel it—that quiet pride she didn’t need to announce.

He tilted his head back to take in the village as if it were a gallery masterpiece. “Your father’s incredible. Saved lives, built a community like this… Honestly, it’s amazing.” The words slipped out genuine, though part of him wouldn’t mind if it scored him a little extra credit with the daughter.

Drawing a long breath, he followed her up the steps of a log house—simple, single-story, yet carrying the weight of legacy.

The door creaked open. From the gap, a faint hum unfurled—steady, resonant, the heartbeat that seemed to belong to the valley itself.

Inside the house…

The silence was suffocating. Every creak of the wooden floor sounded like a sensor locking on, every breath too loud.

Erwin’s gaze never wavered—steady, sharp, dissecting. He wasn’t just looking at Skyler. He was measuring him, calculating him, the way a father might after seeing his daughter return twelve years later… with a strange boy from another world.

That stare was cold steel ball bearings. They didn’t accuse. They didn’t forgive. They simply… judged.

Skyler forced a crooked smile, clearing his throat to cut the tension.

“Thanks… for looking after my daughter,” Erwin said at last, his voice laced with a threat so subtle it was almost polite.

“N-not at all. Honestly, Roxy’s the one who looks after me.”

Erwin arched a brow. “And why should my daughter be the one taking care of you?”

Skyler froze. Sweat prickled.

“Father,” Roxy cut in, rolling her eyes. She assumed he was just teasing.

Erwin chuckled low in his chest. But when his expression hardened again, the smile vanished. He leaned forward until Skyler could smell the musk of aged wood in his shirt.

“Listen carefully… If you ever hurt her—” His hand stroked his beard like a general tracing war lines on a map. “—I’ll show you exactly what I can do. And trust me… you don’t want to know.”

The flicker of the wooden lantern carved shadows across his face, sharpening his features until he looked like a Pedro Pascal carved ten times grimmer.

Skyler swallowed hard. “Y-yes, sir. Got it.”

Roxy sighed and settled down beside him, filling the quiet with the story—how her mother vanished, how they fought the High Ruler, how Trinity survived.

“Trinity isn’t dead,” she concluded. “His next move… will be Gaia.”

Erwin stiffened. “Then we can’t waste a second. That man is too dangerous. We must protect Gaia at all costs.”

His focus flicked to the great Life Tree outside the window, its glow reflected in his hardened stare. Now Skyler knew exactly where Roxy’s steel spine came from.

“…And Kasumi?” Erwin asked softly.

“She’s safe,” Roxy said. “Tyra’s been helping me keep her looked after.”

For the first time, Erwin faltered. A fleeting tenderness cracked through the iron mask—longing, worry, love.

“I want her to stay in Eden for now,” Roxy continued. “I can’t be sure this place is safe yet.” She glanced at Skyler.

He nodded. “That’s why we came. To prepare for what’s coming.”

Erwin let his gaze fall shut, silent thought running deep. At last, he rose. “Rest. There are enough rooms here for all of you.”

He turned to leave—then paused. A fleeting glance brushed Skyler once more, weighing him—an artifact dug from the ruins.

Deciding whether he was worth keeping… or better thrown away.

The log house—single-story, five rooms—was the den of someone who had survived hell a hundred times over. Pine beams lined up with such artistry that not a breath of air could slip through.

The grain on each trunk remained vivid, like the fingerprints of its owner.
The scent of dried leaves mingled with fresh earth beneath the floor, like the pages of a history book yet to be written.

Small round windows were cut into the walls like spyholes in a fortress.
Each one was placed so precisely that the sunlight found its way in better than any program could calculate.

Every pillar bore the house’s weight—as if carrying its owner’s past as well.
At each wooden joint, temperature-control tech was woven seamlessly, smart enough to shift with the mood of whoever lived inside.

Water trickled softly from the stream out back, the new soundtrack of a quiet life.

No TV. No internet. Only the kind of safety the outer world could never offer.
The Tree of Life’s energy seeped through every plank, like ink soaking into old parchment—turning the house into something far more than a refuge.

Before long, Zoe and Emilia appeared, collapsing onto the floor—more passed out than resting.

“Let’s spar again later,” Zoe chirped, masking her exhaustion.

“I’m always ready,” Emilia replied, half-gritting, half-smiling.

“Deal.” They bumped forearms and went their separate ways.

Those two… strangely perfect together.

After entering his room, Skyler dropped onto the bed, drained.
Peace lasted only moments before the nightmare found him.
He felt something vile circling the Tree of Life—maniacal laughter echoing, rapid, insane.

A man stood at the center, swallowed by a black surge.
Skyler stepped closer, each footfall like treading on shards of glass.
And when he finally saw the man’s face—
—it was his own, devouring Gaia’s power without control.

He jolted awake, gasping as if dragged from a frozen sea.
Color drained from his face, eyes wide.

He shot upright, scanning the room before bolting to the window.
The curtain fluttered as he yanked it aside—moonlight reflecting off the Tree of Life.

Leaves fell endlessly, like silent stones from the heavens. Gaia was fading before his eyes.

He spun and dashed out of the room, legs trembling, pounding down the hall to wake the others.

His fists slammed on the doors.
“Wake up! Everyone—Gaia’s in trouble!”

The Tree of Life—once lush and eternal—was withering before their eyes.
Leaves that had never fallen in thousands of years now swirled through the air, as if some unseen giant hand from the heavens was sweeping them down.

A shadow of decay crept from the crown toward the roots, as though someone was squeezing the tree—forcing it to die from within.

Zoe lunged forward, her small hands pressing against the bark, desperate to hold on to something—anything.

She closed her eyes and reached out with her mind, connecting her thoughts to Gaia’s pulse.

…And then, visions flooded into everyone’s head at once.

No one had ever known how the Tree of Life came to be.
There were no records, no written history.
But now they saw the truth—there wasn’t just one Gaia, but two, bound across dimensions, their roots entwined in an endless flow of time.

The space connecting the two trees wasn’t on any map, nor within the laws of physics.

No human language could define it. It was a hidden conduit—created to bind the life force of the universe into one fragile balance.

If one tree fell, the other would follow—like dominos collapsing in the vacuum of creation.

Then another image emerged, sharp and undeniable:
Trinity, draining the life out of Gaia on the other side of the cosmos.
His face twisted, and in his eyes—black holes where nothing could ever escape.

Zoe yanked her hands away, stumbling back, her face pale as though she had just watched the world end with her own eyes.

There was no need for explanation—everyone had seen it.
They all understood without a single word.
…The apocalypse had begun.

“We have to stop Trinity!” Skyler declared.

“How are we supposed to get there?” Emilia asked.

“The two Gaias are linked—I can take us!” Zoe said firmly.

“We have to move now. She’s… dying.”

Her voice tightened, eyes fixed on the great trunk as if she could see its breath fading with every second.

No one said another word.
They joined hands.
Zoe touched the bark again, setting the destination in her heart.

Please… send us there.

A blinding white light erupted—like a solar storm tearing through the atmosphere.

Everything was wiped from the canvas of reality in a single flash.
There wasn’t even air left to cling to.

And then—everything went dark.