Twenty minutes of running through the forest had drained most of the group's energy—except for Matteo, who felt oddly sharp, his legs moving with mechanical precision, his breath never hitching. Elric had noticed but hadn't said anything. He was too busy filling in the silence.
"This forest's connected to Baseline Charlie," Elric explained between breaths. "Our base, Alpha, used to use this route for flanking. Now? It's a graveyard."
The closer they got, the heavier the air became.
By the time they reached the edge of Baseline Charlie, silence had taken over. Trees gave way to a ruined clearing, and the stench of burnt wood, scorched metal, and blood hit them all at once.
Matteo gestured upward, and without a word, the team scaled one of the tall pines, finding perch among the branches.
The view stole their breath.
The baseline was in complete chaos.
Flames curled up from collapsed barricades. Piles of broken siege weapons lay in ruin, twisted like toy models. Bodies—both soldiers and monsters—littered the charred earth. Some still smoldered. Blood painted the snow like spilled ink. Far in the distance, the ruined silhouette of a castle stood defiant, its highest spire cracked like a snapped bone.
"This is terrible…" Lena whispered, visibly trembling. Her voice barely carried over the wind.
Elric's face twisted. His eyes squinted toward the horizon.
"Oh crap. That's even worse news."
"What do you see?" Mira asked, already drawing her dagger halfway from its sheath.
Elric didn't answer right away. Instead, he turned his gaze toward Matteo.
"The Titan," he muttered. "I see it."
They all froze.
Even from here, Matteo could barely make out the shape. Towering. Wrong. Like a walking mountain made of bone and stone and things that didn't belong in any sane world.
"We have to report back—now," Mira whispered urgently. "Before that thing spots us."
Matteo didn't respond.
Instead, he jumped from the branch.
"Hey! Are you crazy!?" Mira hissed after him.
Matteo held up a hand to silence her. He didn't say a word.
He moved fast and low, weaving through wreckage, ducking beneath beams, and hopping over bodies without missing a beat. It wasn't bravery. It was clarity—that cold focus that sometimes kicked in when danger pressed too close.
The same clarity he'd felt when he'd first stolen the Mask.
And as he pressed forward, he spotted something unusual amidst the rubble—a standing camp, hidden partially behind debris and trees. No flames burned there, but tents still stood. The fires were long dead, yet the camp itself was intact.
If not for his vision—heightened far beyond normal thanks to that strange exposure to Aether in his childhood—he wouldn't have seen it at all.
Likely, this was where the survivors had fled.
He entered cautiously.
Immediately, weapons were raised—blades, bows, a crossbow cocked straight at his head.
"Wait!" Matteo raised both hands. "I come in peace!"
A moment passed.
Then the weapons lowered—but only slightly.
Matteo glanced back and whistled softly, gesturing to the trees. His squad, watching silently from above, took that as a cue and made their way down. As they arrived, a quiet awe passed between them.
"Guy's got good eyes…" Elric muttered.
"Yeah," Mira replied under her breath. "Crazy good eyes…"
Inside the camp, dozens of survivors sat huddled—some in armor, others just civilians wrapped in cloaks and torn clothes. Their eyes were hollow, faces dirtied with ash and grief.
A gruff-looking man stepped forward, likely the leader. His armor bore the same crest as Matteo's team—flaming crown over crossed blades—but Matteo didn't register his name.
Let Elric do the talking, he decided.
"Base Alpha," Elric introduced. "We're here to scout the breach and escort survivors if needed."
The man's stern gaze softened. "Good. We weren't expecting anyone to come."
As the team moved deeper into the camp, Matteo's eyes fell on two people who stood out immediately from the rest.
Both were around his age—maybe nineteen or twenty. One was a dark-skinned girl with sharp features and a glowing black-and-blue katana strapped across her back. Sleek. Futuristic. Definitely not from this world.
The other was a lanky boy with windswept hair and a smooth Aether-forged shield that shimmered faintly like rippling glass.
They stood near a tent, watching the newcomers closely.
They didn't greet anyone.
They didn't acknowledge Matteo either.
But he saw the flicker in their eyes. Recognition.
You're not from here either.
Matteo swallowed and looked away. His heart pounded faster, not from fear—but from confirmation.
He wasn't the only one.
---
The camp was calm for now. But the moment wouldn't last.
The plan was simple: Get these people back to Base Alpha. But first, someone had to return and report the situation.
Someone fast. Quiet. Sharp.
And, unfortunately, that someone was Matteo.
The captain—what was his name again? Leon?—gave the order in passing, but Matteo was already dreading it.
A solo trip through that ruined forest, back to a war camp under pressure, with a Titan looming in the distance?
Great.
Absolutely fantastic.
Elric noticed his sour expression and smirked. "Tough luck. Guess Captain likes you."
"Yeah," Matteo muttered. "Lucky me."
He turned his head slightly. The Titan was still out there.
Watching. Breathing.
Waiting.
Matteo pulled the pistol from his belt and checked the chamber. Still loaded. Then he slid a hand inside his coat and touched the mask.
Cold. Familiar.
And humming with suppressed laughter.
"Ohhh, you're gonna DIE out there!" the Mask cackled inside his mind. "But hey—if you let me out—I'll make it hilarious!"
"…Shut up."
But part of him knew.
He might not have a choice for long.