Once Kentaro and the girls got back to the Apartment, his apartment had never felt so alive, or so loud.

After dinner, Serica insisted on showing Yura how the TV worked while Yura got fascinated with button-mashing on Kentaro's old game console. Meanwhile, Kentaro sat slumped on the couch like an old man who's just come back from his 9-5, his mind refusing to rest.

"Tokyo. Siren. Cradle. Spire. Jeez, if things weren't already bad enough," he thought to himself

No matter how many times he tried to focus on the sound of laughter coming from his bedroom, his head kept filling with worst-case scenarios.

What if Spire gets to her first? What if Cradle eliminates her like they tried with Serica…

And by nightfall, exhaustion set in, and Kentaro thought maybe, just maybe, sleep would take him. Until he walked into the bedroom.

There they were.

Serica and Yura. Locked in a standoff like rival gang bosses about to duel. His eyebrow twitched as he watched the drama unfold.

"Listen here, newbie," Serica growled, fists on her hips. "I've been with Kentaro longer, so naturally I sleep next to him. In this home, we give veterans priority."

"Hmph," Yura snapped back, her gothic pendant glinting under the lamp. "Commander Tenka herself gave me orders to stay close to Kentaro for protection. Rules are rules. Veteran or not, you wouldn't dare disobey the Commander, would you now?" She said as a small smirk grew on her face.

The air between them practically caught fire.

"Guys…" Kentaro tried to diffuse the situation.

But got nothing. They didn't even blink.

"Guys." He repeated...

Still nothing. The sound of clashing egos was louder than his voice.

Kentaro's forehead throbbed. Something inside him finally snapped.

"GUYS!" This time, he shouted; his voice cut through any bickering the two were doing.

Both froze. Two pairs of wide eyes slowly turned toward him like children caught stealing candy.

"Sorry!" They shouted in perfect unison, bowing so fast their hair whipped around, almost hitting him.

Kentaro sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Okay, it's fine, but new plan: you two take the bedroom tonight, I'll take the couch."

Yura shook her head. "No, I should take the couch. It was inconsiderate of me to assume-"

Serica cut her off. "No, I'll take the couch. You're new here; it's only fair you get the bed."

"No, you can take the bed, I'll take the couch!" Yura said louder this time.

Within seconds, the argument reignited. Now it was a battle over who could be the nicest.

Kentaro dragged his hand down his face. "What the hell is happening? How are they arguing about the opposite thing now…"

Finally, he clapped his hands sharply. "Here's how it's gonna work: Tonight, Yura takes my bed, Serica's on the futon. Tomorrow, you swap. I'm on the couch. Done. No debates. We need rest for tomorrow's supply run. Understand?"

Both girls pouted but eventually nodded in unison, guilt creeping over their faces.

"Thank you," Kentaro muttered, walking back and collapsing onto the couch like a man finally pardoned from prison.

As silence settled in and the night approached its peak, Yura whispered across the dark bedroom:

"Hey… Ice Woman, uh, I mean, Serica. You awake?"

Serica snorted softly. "Yeah, still up."

Yura stared at the ceiling, voice quiet. "Kentaro… He does so much for us. It's because he really cares, huh?"

Serica turned her head toward her and smiled softly. "Yeah… Without him, I don't know where I'd be. He's saved me more times than I can count."

Yura's lips curled into a rare, gentle smile. "Yeah… I feel lucky. There are probably people out there who are way less fortunate than us."

Serica nodded. "That's why we've gotta do our best for him too. Be kind, be strong… Make him happy, just like he makes us happy."

Yura's smile widened slightly. "Yeah… Let's do our best."

"Hmm", Serica agreed. There was silence for a moment, like both girls were taking in what they had just said to heart before it was truly time to sleep.

"Goodnight, Yura," Serica whispered

"Goodnight, Serica," Yura replied.

Finally, the apartment went still.

*

Tokyo – Cradle HQ

Reiden Vale's polished shoes clicked against the pavement as he stepped out of a black limo, his reflection stretching across the tall glass building bearing one word:

C.R.A.D.L.E.

Reiden smirked. "Grand building for a group of self-righteous peacekeepers… How charming."

Inside, uniformed officers, less like soldiers, more like stern modern police, marched through the lobby. They all recognised him. Every single one stiffened, saluted, and stepped aside as though the air itself demanded it.

At the reception desk, a young woman straightened her posture nervously, trying not to tremble under his gaze.

"Sir… Can I help you?"

Reiden's smile never faltered. "I'm here to see the High Table."

Her eyes widened.

Everyone knew the High Table, A veteran Commander who ran Cradle's entire global operation. Not unstoppable monsters, not a cartoonish emperor, but a calculating, battle-hardened leader whose combined influence reached every government and military contractor on the planet.

They weren't just the chain of command.

They were the keepers of order in a world barely holding itself together.

And Reiden Vale had come not to ask for cooperation.

But to direct.

The name "High Table" wasn't tossed around lightly.

Anyone who asked to see them knew more than they should, and anyone who was granted entry either had the world's strongest connections… Or a death wish.

The receptionist knew instantly which one this was.

Tokyo's Cradle Headquarters wasn't just another military branch; it was the command hub of Japan, the fortress where the most powerful decisions in the world were made. Nations had folded under its "security agreements." Crime syndicates had vanished overnight. Politicians bowed when Cradle entered the room.

And yet, to Reiden Vale, it was just another well-built prison.

He followed a silent escort down a long corridor plated with explosion-resistant steel. Bulletproof glass ran along the right wall, overlooking the endless sprawl of Tokyo. Each step echoed like a countdown.

"Reinforced walls… Blast floors…," Reiden muttered, his lips curling into a smirk. "So afraid of Alberlines you've turned the place into a bunker."

The masked escort said nothing, merely frisking him before pushing open a set of double doors.

The massive conference room stretched out like a warship deck. A long steel table divided it, seats lined on either side. At its far end sat a single figure.

Aiko Kurozawa.

Her presence froze the air.

Even sitting, she had the posture of a predator, every inch of her sharpened by years of war. The faint beauty mark beneath her eye caught the room's sterile light, and her long dark hair with the hint of purple framed features that could've belonged to a model… If not for the aura of lethal command that radiated from her.

"Well…" Her voice was calm, low, yet lethal. "You've got some balls showing your face here, Reiden."

Reiden stepped forward casually as the escort closed the door behind him. His expression was almost amused as he stopped just short of the end chair. With a razor-sharp grin, he offered a mock bow.

"Ah, yes… It is I, Reiden Vale. Always a pleasure, dear Miss Aiko Kurozawa… Or should I say-" He leaned forward just slightly, savouring the tension. "…Miss Alberline."

The steel beneath her clenched fist groaned. Her entire frame tightened, rage barely caged.

"If you value your life," she said, her voice flat and deadly calm, "you'll never speak that name again."

Reiden chuckled, spreading his hands in mock apology. "Ah… Old habits. I forget how sensitive you can be." He sat, uninvited, leaning back as though he owned the place.

Aiko laced her hands together, covering most of her face, save for her sharp, narrowed gaze. "Two years since your last stunt here. Back then, you were clawing your way up with Spire. Now you strut around like a king. So tell me, Vale… What brings a man like you to my table?"

His smirk sharpened.

"The Alberline in Tokyo… Siren. You will not kill her. You will capture her… And deliver her to me."

The room's silence thickened, oppressive.

"As if," Aiko spat. "Cradle doesn't take orders from Spire dog. We will eliminate Siren. Permanently making sure it doesn't cause harm to anyone."

Reiden clicked his tongue, feigning disappointment. He tapped his fingers on the steel table with deliberate rhythm, each strike louder than the last.

"I expected that answer… So let me rephrase." His grin darkened. "If you don't comply, I'll leak your little… Heritage secret. And while I'm at it, I'll cut the supply line for your precious A.A.S. suits."

The tension snapped taut. The suits, Spire's advanced anti-Alberline systems, were the backbone of Cradle's global dominance. Without them, they'd be fighting Alberlines with toys.

Aiko's teeth clenched. Options collapsed around her like dominoes. She knew if she didn't comply, things could get messy.

Finally, she hissed through her teeth. "Tch… Fine. We'll stay out of your way. But listen carefully, Vale, if that thing is near us or comes anywhere near Hq… She will be neutralised. Don't think your threats protect her."

Reiden stood slowly, straightening his jacket, victory glinting in his eye. He gave her a lazy wave.

"Good girl. I knew you were still smart enough to play along. Let's hope you stay that way."

And with that, he walked out, the heavy doors sliding shut behind him.

Aiko's nails dug into the steel of her chair until it bent inward. She sat there, silent, trembling, not with fear, but with barely restrained hatred…

"What's the bastard's game?" Her voice echoed as the sound of boots clicking on the floor grew quieter and quieter.

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