Time froze for Joran, not literally or in any figurative meaning. He had simply stopped, frozen. He sat frigid, as he looked at the woman in front of him. As he looked at the Siren.

Who claimed to lead the Beasts in their entirety. Who claimed to be the one leading the Invasion even as they spoke.

Joran’s voice snagged within his own throat, which had all but dried up as well. The previous turmoil he felt began to surge uncontrollably within the sea of calm, rupturing the feeling he had been overwhelmed by until then. The Siren looked gently at Joran, unwavering in their stoicism. Their eyes shifted back and forth between Joran’s, expectant of some sort of reaction.

But what could Joran say? If she… they were the Siren, and lead the beasts, then this meant the Lake he had continued to come to was no doubt in the Beyond. Somewhere no human of the Hero Realm had ever set foot in before. This he was certain of, who could have possibly kept the scenery and unnatural serenity of this Sanctuary to themselves? Would he be able to make it out of here? Is he even actually here? Such thoughts and questions raced in his mind, until finally he croaked with a broken voice, mirroring his unsure psyche.

“S-so… We’re… We’re in the B-Beyond, right?”

The Siren was taken aback for a split second before they smiled warmly, “A neutral question, despite your own feelings for the Beasts. How fitting of you Joran.”

Joran glared daggers into their eyes, repeating his question, more firm this time, “We’re in the Beyond, right?”

They sighed, and closed their eyes, “Yes, that is what the Hero Realm calls this land, isn’t it? Although, as you might’ve gathered, it’s been eons since one of your kind has ever stepped foot here.”

“… So we have? How come we’ve never heard of this Lake… This Sanctuary of yours?” Joran calmed down and decided staying neutral was the best course of action for him to bide by.

Whatever information he might learn was too valuable in this exchange. Every single leader of the Metropolis had some semblance of a guess as to how the Beasts were organized. Some assumed pure violence and chaos, while others felt that there were Beasts that were yet undiscovered that held power. Yet none of them ever considered that it was one Beast…

One person.

The Siren nodded, “Your people haven’t, but there have been others here.”

“… Shouldn’t we at least be aware of this place then, of your existence?”

They shook their heads, “You seem to not believe just how long I’ve lived then. Your kind have long since forgotten my existence. They created their own world, which has long since disappeared from memory, giving way to this one we live in now. History itself turned to dust long before your ‘Hero Realm’ came to be.”

Wary of their words, Joran shook his head, “I don’t believe you. This world has always been this way… The Hero Realm barely making do with the constant barrage of Beasts… Of your Beasts.”

Their eyes frowned as they looked back to Joran, brows furrowed, “They are not mine. I am them. And they are me. In this day and age… Your kind split into three regions, yes? I admit it’s amusing to see the same thing happen over and over again, but your kind would never be able to build the empire of old…”

Joran got up, having clearly heard enough of the Siren’s ramblings, “And so what? It makes you justified in slaughtering us?! That we haven’t made some fantasy empire you seem to have envisioned as the best of ‘my kind’?”

For the first time, Joran could see their eyes grow dark, their expression turn an ugly grimness, as they stood up, eye to eye to Joran, yet their demeanor clearly looking down at him.

“You are a Child, Joran. I adore you as one would a baby. But I shall humor you. You think the Beasts are evil? The ignorance of Humanity will never cease to amaze me. Do you have any idea how horrible your kind can be? Have been…? But you don’t. Your kind doesn’t even remember their pinnacles, how could they remember their nadirs…?”

Joran tried to refute the Siren, but then he suddenly remembered the Bloodhound clan. The hierarchy the Realm was built upon. Aurumn Hinoyagi.

Joran gritted his teeth, and finally the Siren softened her face, giving Joran a tender hug, “Oh, but dear Child, you might’ve glimpsed it. The suffering you must’ve gone through, I must say I am sorry.”

Joran was limp in the hug, staring up to the sky, his mind blank. The embrace she gave him calmed him down, but not enough for him to forget where he was, and who she… they were.

Breaking the hug as gently as he could, Joran looked down to the floor, the smoothed stone with no abrasions or markings and spoke, “You might be right… There are some very wrong things I’ve seen. But even so…” His face hardened, looking back up at the Siren, serious once more, “But even so, that will never justify the Beasts’ slaughtering of innocents.”

The Siren frowned, and put their hands down to themselves, and sighed, “There are no innocents in this world anymore. Only the ignorant and the incriminated. But very well. I hope the next time I see you will still be here, Joran. Perhaps there will still be time for you to realize the errs of your kind.”

They pulled Joran closer to them, and kissed his forehead gently, which began to submerge Joran back into the Lake that now suddenly filled his vision, as he was pulled into the abyss, hearing the ephemeral voice once more.

“You’ve chosen to embrace the role of the Hero for your people. As it were, they will need someone as pure as you, Child. But observe the world for what it is. For what it once was. What it will be.”

Joran woke up suddenly, back in the rumblings of the car, scanning his surroundings immediately. Once he realized where he was again, the night sky slowly drifting into the hazy twilight of the dawn, and the fields of farmland between Korhal and Sentinalus stretching out as far as he could see on either side of the road, he sighed to himself and sunk into his seat. Looking over, he saw Drekor was still knocked out in deep sleep.

Something he wished he had instead of what really happened. Still, it shouldn’t have surprised Joran that this was how it was. The fact it was sunrise the last time he was at the Lake when it had just turned night over the Hero Realm should’ve been enough for him to realize he was somewhere in the Beyond, to the East. Even more so when he went back this time, and it was nearing evening there.

“Is everything okay, Master Joran?”

Joran looked up to see the attendant looking over to him briefly. He didn’t appear overly concerned, more checking on Joran since he had just awoken. Of course, Joran thought to himself, who would believe I was on the other side of the world?

“I will be, once we get to Sentinalus. I’ll never get used to cars, it seems,” Joran attempted a bad joke of his past experiences in cars to smooth himself over.

“… Well, we’re almost there. It would be prudent to wake up Prince Drekor, then.”

“… Right,” With that Joran looked back over his friend, and idly thought to himself for a minute.

He couldn’t help but feel he couldn’t tell anyone about what had happened. If for nothing else, who would believe it? That he was in a place he actually wasn’t in, yet was and conversed with the supposed leader of the Beasts? Especially since it wasn’t a hostile encounter. If they did believe his story, what would they think or feel of Joran’s handling of the situation. Even if he wasn’t actually there, he could’ve tried something to cut the head of the Beasts off, right? Anything would have been better than the seeming trance he had allowed himself into.

But that’s if he told anyone. He knew that what he experienced was real, and he knew almost as well as his own feelings for his friends that the Siren was someone that didn’t hate him. Treated like a child? Maybe, but still doted on, regardless.

But given how the Invasion is the predominant fore issue for the Hero Realm, it can’t be understated how unique Joran’s position must be.

“The ignorance of Humanity will never cease to amaze me. Do you have any idea how horrible your kind can be?” The Siren said this to Joran, but it felt more of an ominous prophesy than anything else.

But still, she tried to reach out to Joran. Maybe there’s still some way to bridge the two sides of this conflict, together?

Joran shook his head, bringing himself a bout of clarity. Of course that can never happen. Too many people have died to the Beasts since the dawn of time. Since the Hero Realm existed…

“’Your people haven’t, but there have been others here.’”

“GRAGH!” Joran cried out in frustration as he recalled more of the conversation him and… Her had.

Drekor jumped a little bit as he groggily woke up, looking around once, then looking straight at Joran, and groaned, “Dude, you could’ve just shaken me awake.”

Joran put his encounter in the back of his mind as best he could, looking at his friend with an eager smile, “Well, I didn’t want to be rude.”

“… So you scream?”

“Well that was there, this is here now.”

“Ok, dude.”

The duo laughed with each other, and discussed vaguely about what to do once they got to Sentinalus. By the time they had reached it, the sun had long since been in the sky, reaching the late morning. The fair fields Joran could now see ended at the northern wall that seemed incredibly small from this distance, and could see as they went off to the south towards the Wasteland until they’d ended somewhere before then.

The three fringe cities, Portsmouth, Evergreen, and Kaywood were all countryside in comparison to the three inner cities and Crown City. The fringe cities were the bulk of agriculture, as well as lumbering. Without the looming threat of organized Beast activity, there were farmlands outside of the walls for Evergreen, out in the Boreas Forest that nestled on the towering mountains in the West. While Portsmouth would log Boreas and Inven… Or at least when it was still there. But Kaywood was the one that managed these huge swathes of open fields. Corn, wheat, and various other foods.

The Inner cities were the bulk of manufacturing, and the majority of residential districts resided within them. Korhal, Shinal, and Adpol all managed various industries and technology. But their crude product supply came from the Borderlands, whereas the Borderlands traded for the agricultural produce the Cities could provide. For this reason alone, they never fought against each other; the threat of Beasts aside. This trade came through the Raium desert in between the two regions, the bulk of said desert being guarded by the Earthen Guild, and lied just north of the inland sea that the Okeanos Guild guarded. With the routes generally secured, the bulkhead for the trade to occur became Sentinalus.

The walls to the North began to grow in size once they got closer. At that point, Joran could smell the salt of the sea in the air, even if he couldn’t see it yet. The internal walls that surrounded Sentinalus also began to peer into view. Aside from Ardenta, this bastion of military and trade was the only other city to have walls completely surrounding it.

“How are you feeling?”

Joran turned to his friend, startled as they had sat in relative silence for the last hour or so, “What do you mean?”

“Well you don’t seem too burdened like you did last night. I guess sleep was really all you needed, eh?”

Joran turned away, watching the walls of Sentinalus grow in size as they got closer, “… Yeah. I guess so.”

At this point, they could see a convoy of trucks moving out of the gates of Sentinalus, no doubt carrying the goods the Borderlands brought over the night. As Drekor and Joran drove past them, they could see at least a dozen of them in total, until they all passed, the now looming walls casting a shadow on the lone car approaching the city. The attendant slowed the car down at the guard checkpoint, and Joran couldn’t help but throw his gaze up at the walls.

Unlike the somewhat crude, stone walls of the fringe cities, the one that surrounded Sentinalus was made of a similar material as the roads themselves, grey and smooth.

“Cement.”

Joran looked back at his friend, who was now wearing a smug smile, “Huh?”

“That’s what the walls are made of. This is the lifeline of the Cities if we think about it. So it makes sense that it would be the most heavily fortified. Not to mention how important it is to take the trade as seriously as the Borderlands no doubt do.”

“Because of us giving them food?”

“Whatever reason it is, they have two entire Clans dedicated to the trade routes to make sure that we may get our supply, and them theirs. So it was only natural we took it just as seriously and poured our resources into the defense of the city.”

“I see…”

A soldier, Suekamikou, walked up to the car and glanced inside once before directly asking the Attendant, “What’s the purpose of your visit?”

The attendant cleared his throat, and responded just as curtly, “I’ve brought the Crown Prince and Joker.”

Unflinching, the soldier rebuked, now looking in the back to Drekor and Joran, “With all due respect, we aren’t exactly in a prime situation for a tour.”

At this, Drekor spoke regally, putting Joran off guard once again, “We understand, that is why it’s not a tour we seek, but to aid Command with an impending situation that demanded our urgent arrival.”

“… I see,” after the soldier flicked his eyes back and forth between all three occupants, he walked back in cadence to his post, where a few other soldiers could be seen, and they began conversing.

“I’ll never get used to your prose…”

“What do you mean? It’s what’s expected of me as the Prince, you know.”

“I know! But damn, you and your father both make me snap my back more diligently.”

Drekor chuckled to himself, “Then imagine how it must feel for someone else who isn’t acquainted with us!”

“Did you already forget the first day I showed up to the Throne Hall?!”

The soldier came back right as the duo died down their laughter, and he curtly nodded back to the attendant, “Alright, you’re cleared to enter. Go to the central plaza, and make a right towards the Command Center. Commander Saum will be expecting for you.”

The attendant nodded, and at the same time, the black, metal gate in front of them groaned open, almost deafening in its machinations turning as it slid into the walls on either side. Once it had cleared mostly, the car surged forward and through the gate.

As they passed through, the first thing Joran thought of was how segmented the city appeared. He could glimpse the steel structures that straddled the street, but now could also see the buildings that were built off of them and attached to the walls of the city themselves. It was then that he also realized that the sunlight still escaped them, a myriad of bridges and buildings that stood tall over the street also existed, and above them even further, there was a large fabric canopy that seemed to blot out what little sunlight that could permeate through. That wasn’t to say it was dark. It was quite brightly lit, with all of the electrical lights that stood at intermittent intervals along the street and within the buildings as well.

Joran sat in awe, never even having read anything about the design of Sentinalus, and chuckled idly, “This might just be more impressive than Crown City.”

The city folk were bustling, cars jamming the traffic on this street and many others that interspersed in the city. People were also crowding the walkways, entering, and leaving various buildings, no doubt many of them were traders with goods flowing in and out from both sides of the Realm. Above them, Joran could now see they also crowded the bridges over the streets, activity being no less than on the ground.

Drekor punched Joran lightly, “I think it’s too cramped in here, personally.”

Joran gestured frantically to everything, flabbergasted that Drekor wasn’t impressed, but Drekor just smirked, “This isn’t my first time here, you know. I was granted the honor of handling formal paperwork in regard to conjoining of both sides of the military, for the Invasion, by the ‘Realm Monarch’, after all.”

“… Oh that’s true, fair,” Joran gave Drekor a pity pat on his shoulder.

With a sigh, Drekor continued, “But that also means we won’t get lost in here! Saum is a reliable guy. At least, he didn’t cause me any trouble last I was here.”

Drekor looked up to the sky bridges himself, and mused to himself, “Though with the attack on Inven, they might already be looking to tighten security here.”

“What makes you say that?” Joran inquired, even the attendant looked back in curiosity for a moment before turning his attention back to the flow of traffic.

“Usually there’s more than just one convoy of trucks going through. But at the same time, they’re smaller in size. So they’re condensing the shipping to one trip at a time. Which no doubt means the Earthen and Okeanos Guild alike have been only doing one large shipment themselves. It would seem that the Borderlands finally have to deal with things on their end.”

Joran picked up on Drekor’s implication, but frowned, “Are you saying we’re the only ones that have been dealing with the Invasion?”

“It’s not entirely surprising. The Borderlands consider it our rite of passage through the years to be able to fend off any large Beast attacks. The Beasts usually coordinate an attack on the Metropolis first before turning elsewhere. We’re the weakest link, after all.”

At this Joran was baffled, which Drekor turned to see just in time, before laughing, half self-deprecatingly, half genuine, “What? The Metropolis is the centerpiece of power, but really only because of how many people actually live here. We have the seat of technology as well, but that’s because we rely on it. Do you really think a Gouriki could withstand someone that could wield elemental magic? Would a Suekamikou shield withstand the blazing flames of a Hinoyagi?”

Joran shook his head, refusing to believe what he was hearing, “We almost collapsed under the last Invasion! The fact we have identified a second one should be grounds for them to help us!”

“Well, what do they gain from it? It’s not like we help them when they’re attacked. And they’re attacked quite a lot more than us, mind you. It’s mutual negligence.”

“Even so…”

“The Mages help us though, so that’s nice.”

“Where have they been, then?” Joran dubiously asked.

Then, for the first time in a long time, Joran could see Drekor don a defeated visage. His smile wholly self-deprecating.

“How did you think we managed to fend off the Beasts in Inven? We didn’t manage to do it on our own, I can assure you that much.”

“Oh…”

Uncomfortable silence pervaded the car, as they made their way to what Joran could only assume was the central plaza. Here, there was a huge expanse, where cars flitted through the center of, with walkways filling the rest of the plaza that were covered with stands and people bristling by, on their next venture or investment, no doubt.

The attendant turned as was instructed to the street on the right of this plaza, and they could now see a unique building not too far away from them that ended the street. It stood as the only part of the city thus far that had sunlight filtering onto it and the sky bridges nearby it. There was a tower that jutted up to the second level of the city, and the lower half design of the rest of the building was reminiscent of Crown City’s Precinct, only with gold bands ringing up the tower, for the lack of the crimson pillars.

“Ah but that reminds me,” Drekor spoke assuredly, “This city is ruled mostly by Jura and Idaten officials. Only merchants and military is allowed here. Argo, Cael, not even Heca have had any interest here, let alone any members.”