The image on the broadcast screen wavered under atmospheric interference, but the anchor’s voice remained steady.
“…This is Schryza Public Network, reporting live from Sector Ruins Epsilon-Seven. Excavation teams have uncovered what appears to be an intact CyroN-era battlefield node beneath the continental fracture zone!”
Behind the anchor, massive drilling rigs towered over a field of twisted metal and half-buried constructs. Drones hovered low, projecting scanning grids across the ash-covered ground.
“Preliminary analysis confirms the remains of multiple Autonomous Warrior Modules, dating back to the final phase of the Great Incrotyista War hundreds of years ago. Officials state that recovery operations are being conducted under strict containment protocols.”
The feed cut to a researcher standing near a partially exposed armored frame.
“This unit is in unusually preserved condition,” the researcher said, adjusting her visor. “Core integrity is low, but not zero. We are preparing to transfer it to a controlled recovery platform for deeper examination.”
The anchor nodded gravely.
“While CyroN no longer exists as a governing force on Schryza, historians warn that remnants of its technology remain highly dangerous. Citizens are advised to avoid restricted excavation zones and report any unauthorized salvage activity.”
The screen flickered.
“More updates as the situation develops.”
Across the void of space, far from Schryza’s skies…
A soft chime echoed through a dormant systems chamber.
Mira’s eyes snapped open.
Not from sleep.
From override.
Her internal network flooded with priority alerts, cascading through long-neglected subroutines.
TARGET SIGNAL DETECTED
SOURCE: PERSISTENT NODE — SCHRYZA
STATUS: ACTIVE
For a fraction of a second, Mira could not move.
Her systems were calculating distances.
Travel vectors.
Energy requirements.
But her mind was screaming only one thing.
She moved.
“No… no, no, no—”
Mira rushed to her console, hands flying across holographic interfaces as live data streamed into the room. The sensor node was transmitting again — weak, unstable, but undeniably active.
Historia’s location.
After centuries of silence.
After centuries of waiting.
Her chest tightened painfully as she locked onto the signal and began emergency launch procedures.
“Hold on… please hold on… I’m on my way—!”
Power surged through the hangar as her craft activated, engines screaming to life in defiance of long-term energy conservation limits.
Navigation systems warned of unsafe jump calculations.
She ignored them.
Structural limits screamed about frame stress.
She ignored them too.
She had already waited too long.
The excavation site erupted into chaos as an unregistered craft tore through the upper atmosphere and slammed into the perimeter field, scattering drones and throwing research teams into panic.
“Unauthorized vehicle detected—!”
BOOM
“Sound the alarms!”
Before anyone could react, the craft’s hatch burst open.
Mira leapt out, boots hitting scorched earth, eyes locked onto the half-buried armored figure at the center of the site.
She didn’t hear the shouting.
Didn’t see the weapons raising toward her.
All she saw was familiar plating.
Familiar damage.
Familiar silence.
“Historia…”
She dropped to her knees beside the broken body, hands shaking as she brushed ash from the shattered chest core.
The light inside flickered faintly.
Still there.
Still fighting.
Tears streamed down Mira’s face as she laughed and cried at the same time, pressing her forehead against Historia’s armor.
“I found you… I really found you… I told you I would… I told you…”
Behind her, security teams hesitated.
No one had ever seen a CyroN machine cry before.
“You guys, stand down!”
“Damn it, what the hell are we going to tell our superiors?”
[FILE: recovery_site/active_node.log]
TARGET_ID: HISTORIA_KOURA_XMA-02A
STATUS: CRITICAL — UNSTABLE
MOVEMENT: DETECTED
NODE LINK: CONFIRMED
TRANSFER MODE: EMERGENCY EXTRACTION
Awaiting retrieval…