> LOCATION: OUTSKIRTS OF EASTBOARDEN MOUNTAINS
> ACTIVE PARTY:
> ISHIDA (L)
> LUV.HARUKI
> DAICHI
> YUI
> NAOTO
> TOMO
Spirits had lifted since they crossed into the Eastboarden mountains – the trees were thinner, the skies wider, and, most importantly, there were no signs of The Faceless. At least, none yet.
"Man," Haruki groaned. "I still can't believe Ren went out there by himself."
"He's a good fighter. He'll be fine." Daichi responded.
"I hope so. That was hell, and this stupid hammer didn't help." Haruki sneered.
"I was meaning to ask you about that. I kept hearing you go on and on about how she's no 'Celeste' on the way back. What's 'Celeste'?"
"What isn't she?"
"Not an answer, Haruki."
Haruki sighed, cheap hammer resting over his shoulder. "Fine. Picture this. Early in the game, we're raiding an orc encampment, right? Blacksmith forge tucked in the back. Most of the weapons trash. Rusted axes, chipped blades, worthless shields."
"But then I saw her."
Haruki slowed his pace without realising, Daichi followed suit.
"She wasn't forged by orcs. Hell, nothing in that camp could've made her. Wrapped in old, bloodied rags, cast aside like she was scrap metal. Gold handle, white steel plating, glowing silver channelwork down to the core. She wasn't forged – she descended from heaven."
"...So, you named her 'Celeste'?" Daichi chuckled.
"No, never. I couldn't. I wasn't worthy of naming her." He glanced at the sky for a moment. "She told me her name. Celeste."
Daichi squinted at him. "You sure you're sane, man?"
"Hey, don't mock our bond." Haruki grinned. "Celeste and I – we made a team. Orc commanders, bandits, smugglers – didn't matter who. One clean swing and they were kissing the floor."
He paused. "But she wasn't just strong. She felt… pure. Like something holy."
"So what happened?"
"The Orc King."
That killed the mood.
"I was reckless. Let my emotions get the best of me. I charged him recklessly. But I thought I had him – I always had them, with Celeste."
His grip tightened on the dull replacement hammer.
"I raised her to hit him, and he caught her right there. I don't know how. And I watched, as she shattered into pieces. In my hands. My bloodied, sinful hands."
Daichi was quiet for a moment. "Damn."
"Since then, nothing feels right, y'know? Every swing with every clunky backup? It's just a reminder of what I've lost."
He twirled the hammer, letting it drop with a dull, unapologetic thunk. "And no blacksmith I've talked to has even heard of anything like her. They say that they wouldn't even know where to begin with the damage."
"So, what are you gonna do, man?"
Haruki looked up, eyes focused on the path ahead.
"I've got a lead now. Someone who might actually know where I can maybe fix her. I'm meeting them today."
***
> LOCATION: VELDENREACH SQUARE
The square was filled with goodbyes and laughter. The party had only known each other a night, but what they faced out west had created something between them.
"I'll see you later, guys!" Yui waved, jogging over to catch up with Naoto and the limping Tomo.
Haruki, Ishida, and Daichi waved in return.
"So, Haruki, what are you gonna do now? Wanna come with us to The White Serpent HQ? Check it out?" Ishida asked.
"Thanks, but I'm actually meeting someone here."
"A girl?" Ishida pried.
"Nah, some weird ass contact for his hammer." Daichi interrupted.
"Oh, Celeste?"
"You know about his hammer too?" Daichi exclaimed.
"Of course. You don't?" Ishida turned to Haruki. "I hope you can get her fixed."
"Thanks Ishida."
Ishida and Daichi gave hopeful waves, then disappeared into the crowd. Haruki was alone.
He'd never been alone when he was with Celeste. Not really. But now, he was waiting – waiting on what might be his only shot to save her.
A tap on his shoulder.
He spun around, heart already halfway into a thank-you speech. "Hi, nice to meet you, I'm– Oh."
His face fell. "It's just you. Look, Futaba, I can't talk right now, I'm waiting for someone."
There Futaba stood. Staff in one hand. Half-eaten rye bread in the other.
"I know," she said, mouth still full. "That's me."
"Don't joke, seriously. This could be the only chance I have to save her."
Futaba stared with a blank expression. Chewing.
"...Futaba?"
"Sorry, I just took too big of a bite." She swallowed. "Anyway, yes, that's me – I'm the someone. That's why I didn't come west. I was doing research. On Celeste."
Haruki's eyes widened. "Are you serious?"
Futaba nodded.
"Oh my god I love you. Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Haruki brought her in for a hug. An unreciprocated hug, but a hug nonetheless.
"It's– not– a hundred– percent– though–" she managed between dramatic shakes.
"I don't care. One percent is better than none percent!"
Haruki backed off.
"So, what is it? Where to first?"
"We need to go to a little village due north of here. A place called Edlenstead. There's a master blacksmith there. He's renowned in the VRMMO world for his weapons. He probably didn't make it, but if we show it to him, he might be able to fix it."
"Alright, let's go!" he said, practically dragging Futaba by the hand to where he thought was north – it was south.
"Wait."
Haruki paused.
"We need to get more rye bread, I'm out."
***
> LOCATION: VELDENREACH BAKERY
The door bells chimed as the two of them stepped inside.
"If it isn't my best customer! How are you, Futaba?"
"Not bad, thanks Tyrell."
Tyrell was hard to miss. Towering close to two meters, with shoulders broad enough to block out the sun, he looked more like a heavyweight champion than a baker. His skin was a warm, deep brown, and his bald head sported a white chef's hat.
"Who's your friend?" Tyrell asked, with a Caribbean twang that made everything he said that much more comfortable.
"Haruki."
"Oh, hammer guy? Nice to meet you!"
"You talked about me to him?" Haruki whispered.
He paused.
Damn, I sounded really rude.
"Sorry, that sounded rude, nice to meet you too, Tyrell." Haruki said, extending a warm hand out.
Wow, his grip is strong.
Futaba, halfway through loading a bag with rye bread, responded. "The bond between a girl and her baker is unbreakable. I tell him most things."
She paused, then continued. "I used to buy my melon bread from him in real life before I moved too. It's like a… family thing."
Her voice was even, almost flippant – but her eyes told another story. They flickered. Just for a moment. Like an old memory had brushed past her, one she didn't want to hold but couldn't quite let go.
Regret? Anger?
No – something quieter. That hollow ache of something left unfinished. Something Haruki would much rather not bring up. Not right now.
"So your entire family are a bunch of melon bread nutcases. Cool."
Tyrell chimed in. "They are the best, after all."
"Alright, Tyrell. That should be my weekly supply. Fifty rye bread."
"A bit light this week, no?
"A bit light?!" Haruki interjected.
"Yeah, she normally gets seventy for the week."
"How do you have the appetite, Futaba?!"
She paused, and looked straight at Haruki.
"I like rye bread."
***
> LOCATION: EASTBOARDEN MOUNTAINS – NORTH OF VELDENREACH
"How much longer, Futaba. My legs are burning." Haruki moaned.
No response.
He didn't need to look over – he knew exactly what she was doing.
"Thanks for the answer," Haruki muttered under his breath.
His legs burned… then they didn't. And he felt something poking at his back, lifting his weight.
He turned around.
A floating rock, easing the weight on his back.
"Awwhhh, thanks Futaba! You do care–"
"Ten minutes. That's it. After that you're walking yourself. I don't want to deplete all my mana out here, just for us to get ambushed."
"Yes, ma'am!"
***
> LOCATION: EDLENSTEAD
"This is cozy." Haruki said.
Edlenstead was a cliffside town littered with quaint, French-esque cottages. The kind you'd find in rural France – like in Normandy or perhaps the Alsace region.
Futaba raised an eyebrow, looking around. "Not my type of place. Too quiet."
"Nah, you just don't like it cause you don't have to dodge drones zipping past your head, spewing advertisement nonsense into your brain."
Futaba smirked. "Dodging them is what makes them fun. Come on, let's find the blacksmith."
***
> LOCATION: EDELNSTEAD BLACKSMITH
"You sure we're in the right place, Futaba?"
Haruki had a point. Edlenstead Blacksmith looked nothing like what you'd expect from a world-renowned smith. It was less "workshop of legends" and more "held together by decaying timber and what Haruki swore was Flex Tape from that one viral ad."
"I'm 80% sure. Let's go inside." she said, halfway through the front gate.
The moment they stepped into the building, the story was different.
Outside: dilapidated. Inside? Weapons lined the walls – swords, axes, shields – each one more beautifully forged than the last. Clean edges. Perfect balance. Nothing flashy, just pure craftsmanship.
The man behind the anvil didn't even look up when the door creaked open.
"You're late," he said, voice rough like old stone. Calm. Unbothered. "I had a pot of tea. It's cold now."
Futaba stepped in, unfazed. "My friend kept stopping for breaks."
Haruki stumbled in behind her. "Hey. Some of us aren't loaded up on rye bread carbs."
A jab to the stomach.
"Sorry!" Haruki muttered under his breath.
The man lifted his goggles and turned. His features were lean, angular – the sort of person who always looked like he was quietly judging you, even if he wasn't. His grey-streaked hair was pulled back into a tight bun, and his clothes were soot-stained and worn, but meticulously clean where it mattered. Precision and grit – both present in equal measure.
He nodded toward Haruki. "You brought the hammer?"
Haruki slung the wrapped cloth off his shoulder and placed it on the table. The man unwrapped it slowly, with practiced hands – not out of reverence, but of habit.
"This alloy, never seen anything like it, and I've been doing this a long time. Strange though." the man said.
"Strange how, Mr…"
"Griff. Call me Griff."
"Great, I'm Haruki, and this is Futaba."
Griff just grunted, then carried on. "Cause there's no way this is player made. It's immaculate. So it's either dev made, or something else."
"You said you've never seen this alloy before. Can you even fix it?" Futaba remarked.
"Whoa hold your horses. Just said I've never worked with anything like it. Doesn't mean I won't try. I can probably bond the fragments together, just need the right material…"
Griff rummaged around under a desk behind him.
"...like this." he said, procuring a small, shining fragment of metal. It glittered gold and screamed 'out of your price range.'
"Great. So can you fix her?" Haruki asked, bright eyed.
"Yeah, if I get more of this metal. I've run out – this is all I have."
Haruki's head dropped.
"So where can we find more of this metal?" Futaba asked.
"A place called Lake Ferros. It's an underground lake a few hours due west of here. Was gonna go myself in a week or so, but if you guys fetch some for me, I'll do the work for free."
"Lake Ferros," Haruki pondered. "Why have I never heard of it before?"
"Cause it's pretty much useless. No loot. No enemies. All it has is this specific type of metal, and even then, that's pointless unless you're a blacksmith. Place went dead a couple days after launch."
Haruki perked up. "Sounds easy enough."
Griff gave him a look. "It's not. Twisting passages. Bad echoes. You hear things that aren't there. People say it messes with your memory. If you're not careful, you'll loop in circles for hours."
Futaba raised an eyebrow. "How do we find the lake, then?"
"Stick to the wall. Don't listen to the voices. Take a lantern that doesn't flicker."
He turned back to his forge.
"One kilo. That's all I need."
***
> LOCATION: LAKE FERROS – OUTER CAVES
Their footsteps echoed too clearly. Too many times.
Even Futaba, usually composed, had gone quiet. Her floating fireball bobbed ahead of them, its glow flickering against slick cavern walls, painting long shadows that didn't always match their movements.
"How long have we been walking?" Haruki whispered.
Futaba checked the UI clock.
It blinked. Blank.
"It's not loading…"
"That's comforting."
A low sound curled through the corridor. Not a growl. Not a monster. Just... a whisper. Haruki turned his head sharply.
"Did you say something?"
"No."
"I could've sworn–"
"You didn't. Keep walking."
They followed the wall, brushing their hands along rough stone. The deeper they went, the quieter the world seemed to get – not because the sound stopped, but because it was swallowed.
Until suddenly – open space.
> LOCATION: LAKE FERROS – INNER CHAMBER
"Oh thank god." Haruki muttered.
The cavern opened into a massive underground basin, black water stretching out like ink beneath a low ceiling of glittering stone.
At the edges of the lake, faint metallic veins shimmered in the rock.
"Is that it?" Haruki asked, stepping forward.
Futaba nodded. "That's it."
Haruki drew a pickaxe, hands steady. "Let's get to work."
They mined in silence, the occasional clink of metal striking mineral echoing into the void, always sounding like it came from somewhere else.
"Hey, uh, Futaba."
"Yeah?"
"Why are we here again?"
Her eyes widened. "For Celeste? Do you not remember?"
…
"Oh. Right."
…
Haruki snapped out of it. "Wait. Of course, how did I forget? I'm at one kilo. How much are you at? We need to get out of here."
"About the same."
"Great. Let's get out. I'm not staying any longer."
As they turned to leave, Haruki glanced back at the lake.
A ripple – just one.
But nothing had touched the water.
He shivered.
"Let's go."
Futaba didn't argue.
They didn't speak again until they saw sunlight.
***
> LOCATION: EDLENSTEAD BLACKSMITH
Griff was already waiting outside when they returned, arms crossed, apron dusted.
"You got it? I'm missing a shift IRL for this."
Haruki nodded, pulling a pouch out of his inventory. "Two kilograms, give or take."
Griff nodded once. No praise, no comment – just motioned them inside.
> 4 HOURS LATER
The forge hissed. Sparks flew.
Haruki sat in silence, elbows on knees, eyes locked to the anvil. He hadn't said a word since Griff began.
Futaba watched too – not because she cared about Celeste, but because Haruki cared. That was enough.
Griff worked like a man born for it. Every strike was deliberate. Every adjustment exact. He shaped the new ore into place, working with the broken core like it was muscle memory. The alloy fused without resistance – almost like it remembered itself.
Then came the silence. One final strike. A long breath.
Griff stepped back.
She was whole.
Gold handle, white steel plating, glowing silver channelwork down to the core – she was complete.
Haruki approached like he was afraid to breathe too loud. He reached out – hands trembling – and gripped the handle.
No weight. No resistance. She slid into his palm like she'd never left.
No one spoke.
Even Griff looked… satisfied. Just a little.
"She's still got it," Griff said simply. "Never seen anything like it. Can't say who or what made her, but she's not just a weapon.
Haruki nodded. "I know."
He didn't swing her. Didn't test her balance.
He just held her close.
Much to Griff's dismay, Haruki got down on one knee. "Griff. My life is yours. If you need anything–"
"Whoa, whoa, relax there, buddy. Really, it's no problem. You saved me a trip to those freaky caves, so it's all good."
Haruki rose. "Okay then. But really, if you need anything, send me a message."
Futaba spoke up. "Same goes for me. You saved my dumbass' weapon. Thanks."
Haruki and Futaba left the blacksmith, starting their trek back to Veldenreach.
"See ya later!" Griff waved.
***
> LOCATION: VELDENREACH SQUARE
"You're home." Haruki whispered.
"When you say weird things like that, it makes me regret helping you."
Haruki turned to her. Sincerely this time. "Thank you, Futaba. Really."
She paused. "No problem. You're one of my best friends after all."
A moment of silence.
Haruki cleared his throat. "So, wanna head over to the Adventurer's Guild? See my baby back in action?"
She laughed. "Sure, Haruki."