Riku stepped into the bustling activity of the new village, the scent of fresh earth and nervous anticipation filling the air. Relief, thick and potent, washed over him. His people were here. They were safe. But the quiet moment was shattered by a familiar, sharp voice.
"Where were you, Dola? And where is that Flugel right now?" Levi's grey eyes, usually inscrutable, held a flicker of impatience and concern as he strode towards Riku.
Riku knew this question was coming. His mind, even amidst the recent, horrifying events, had already anticipated it. If Serabil, a Flugel, stayed with them, it would inevitably raise suspicion among her own kind. Artosh, revered like a father figure by every Flugel, commanded absolute respect. Even a short period of open association with another race might be seen as an act of rebellion, a deviation from their established order. It was a risk Riku couldn't afford to take.
"She couldn't stay with us, Levi," Riku stated, his voice steady, masking the deeper reasons. "I told her to return to her home."
Levi's brow furrowed, his gaze sweeping over the newly arrived villagers. "Her staying here would've been very useful for us," he muttered, a hint of frustration in his tone. He didn't press the issue, however, sensing a deeper, unstated reason behind Riku's decision. His sharp eyes seemed to weigh the benefit against the unspoken cost, and for now, he let it go.
Riku started to move, intending to check on the logistical nightmare that was resettling two thousand souls. "I'm going to check on the other things," he said, turning away.
"Isn't Riku forgetting something?!" Levi's voice cut through the nascent organized chaos, sharper now, laced with accusation. Riku flinched inwardly. He knew what Levi was about to ask.
"Those villagers," Levi pressed, his voice rising, "the ones that helped us move everything... the shadows. Why were they inactive till the last moment?" His anger was palpable now, his concern for his comrades overriding his usual stoicism. "You told me we'd need everyone, but you had them all along, didn't you?!"
Riku turned to face him, meeting Levi's furious gaze directly. He had already considered this. If he had revealed about the 'shadows'—his 'Plan B'—to Levi, Erina, or Ichinose, the System might have heard it too. The System keeps watching, and such knowledge would undoubtedly have increased the mission's difficulty even further. He had to keep those secrets, had to bear that burden alone.
"It was Plan B," Riku explained, his voice low, "implemented if our first plan didn't work." He delivered critical information through Igris precisely because the System couldn't see or hear Igris's actions, system has considered igris 'dead'.
Levi took a step closer, his hands clenching into fists. "Why didn't you tell us?!" he shouted, his voice raw with a frustrated betrayal. "Do you not trust us, Riku?!"
The accusation stung, but Riku held his gaze. "I'll answer every question you have, Levi," he promised, "but only when I'm sure the System isn't watching us."
Levi's face, contorted with anger, slowly began to clear. He opened his mouth to retort, but then his eyes narrowed, and a flicker of understanding crossed his features.
The unspoken threat of the System, its constant surveillance, its insidious reach—it was a concept Levi, pragmatic and astute, could grasp. The anger didn't vanish entirely, but it receded, replaced by a grim acceptance.
After that moment of silent understanding, they moved together, heading deeper into the bustling new settlement, where Ichinose and Erina were already trying to bring order to the chaos, their faces etched with exhaustion and relief.
But amidst the chaos, a remarkable order began to emerge, driven by the very individuals who had navigated the village relocation.
He saw the familiar faces: the logistical genius of Kaito, directing the placement of temporary shelters with shouts and hand gestures; the quiet strength of Oboro, organizing water collection points; the tireless efforts of countless others. These weren't just villagers; they were the core, the survivors forged in the crucible of Riku's leadership.
shigoi, byaku, kusabi, oboro, fucho, nokosu, setsuna, shirabe and all other shadows were doing their best.
They moved with an almost unsettling efficiency, their actions honed by years of improvisation and crisis management. A group of men, stripped to their waists, dug latrines with a practiced rhythm. Women, with children strapped to their backs, sorted supplies, their hands moving with swift precision. Laughter, sharp and a little hysterical, occasionally cut through the sounds of construction, punctuated by dry, sarcastic jabs.
"Careful with that timber, Haru! Don't want to build a leaning tower out here, do we?" shouted a burly man, wiping sweat from his brow.
Haru, a wiry carpenter, shot back, "Says the one who just tried to put a roof on a latrine! What, expecting visitors, Vara?"
Vara snorted. "Just thinking ahead! You never know when you'll need a bit of privacy for a truly epic contemplation."
Their banter was a strange blend of gallows humor and the camaraderie of those who had faced down death together. It was a coping mechanism, a way to bleed off the tension of their impossible journey. Levi observed their fluid movements, the almost telepathic coordination, the way they anticipated each other's needs. It was unnervingly efficient, like they were born for this nomadic, crisis-driven existence. They were like ants building a new colony after a flood – driven, tireless, and organized beyond expectation.
"They're... Are you sure they're normal?," Levi mumbled, almost to himself. He was used to humanity's endless capacity for panic and inefficiency. This was different. This was honed.
Riku, having surveyed the general progress, turned to Levi. "Come on," he said, a weary but determined glint in his eyes. "Let's see what Ichinose and Erina are doing."
They found Ichinose and Erina near a makeshift clinic tent, tending to a few exhausted elders and fussy children. Ichinose, usually composed, had a smudge of dirt on her cheek, and Erina's hair was disheveled, but their eyes held a tired satisfaction.
"Ah, Riku! Levi!" Ichinose greeted, offering a relieved smile. "The first wave of villagers is mostly settled. The others are coming in remarkably quickly."
"Quickly is an understatement," Levi muttered, crossing his arms. "More like instantaneously. Still want to know how you pulled that off, Dola."
Riku ignored the jab, stepping closer. "How's the morale? Any immediate issues?"
"Surprisingly good, considering," Erina replied, rubbing the shoulder of an elderly woman who was being helped into a bed. "They're tired, but relieved. There's a sense of disbelief, honestly. One moment, they were slogging through the pass, the next, they're here." She paused, a thoughtful frown creasing her brow. "Though I think some of them are starting to wonder if the whole thing was a collective hallucination."
"Not a hallucination," Levi deadpanned. "Just Riku's usual penchant for pulling off the impossible with minimum explanation and maximum inconvenience."
Ichinose chuckled, a rare sound. "He does have a flair for the dramatic, doesn't he?" she agreed, shooting a glance at Riku that was half exasperated affection, half genuine awe.
Riku merely offered a tired shrug. "Necessary measures."
Levi scoffed. "Necessary measures, he says. Running off to confront a reality-bending fairy queen without a word, then showing up with her looking like she swallowed a particularly bright star. Then suddenly, two thousand people vanish and reappear. 'Necessary measures' is quite the understatement." He narrowed his eyes at Riku. "And don't think we're not going to talk about your little solo ventures later, Dola. You've got some serious explaining to do."
Riku shot Levi a warning look. "Later," he reiterated, his voice firm.
Levi, however, seemed to relish the attention. He cracked his knuckles. "Oh, no, it's 'later' for everything with him. It's always 'top secret,' 'need-to-know basis,' 'don't trust your comrades with crucial information because the giant floating screen in the sky might hear you'." He paused, leaning in conspiratorially, though his voice was perfectly audible. "For a man who constantly talks about 'cooperation,' he's remarkably good at keeping things from us."
Ichinose sighed, a long-suffering sound, but a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "Levi, you know Riku has his reasons. He always does."
"Don't affirm with him just because you want to get on his good side." Levi threw his hands up in mock, "He drags us into death traps, then shrugs it off with a 'we got there.' It's like he thinks we're all suicidal maniacs who enjoy courting disaster."
"Well, you do seem to enjoy fighting," Erina pointed out, a slight smirk playing on her lips. "And you grumble, but you always follow him, Levi."
Levi's eyes narrowed. "I follow him because someone has to clean up his messes! And because if I don't, who knows what ridiculous 'plan' he'll come up with next that will involve us all spontaneously combusting or turning into giant squirrels."
Levi groaned, rubbing his own forehead. "I'm telling you, the man has a death wish, and he's dragging us all along for the ride. I keep telling him, 'Riku, just once, can you tell us the plan? But does he listen? No! It's always 'strategic,' always 'necessary,' always 'trust me, Levi!'" He mimicked Riku's voice, a surprisingly accurate, if exaggerated, impression.
Riku simply stared at him, a faint, weary smile touching his lips. He was outnumbered, outwitted in this comedic verbal sparring.
"By the way, I didn't know our leader is apparently best friends with a cosmic entity who only asks for head pats," Erina added, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
Levi threw his hands up. "Head pats! See?! I told you! The man's completely lost it! Next, he'll be asking us to sing lullabies to ancient demons for 'strategic advantages'!"
Riku finally spoke, pushing off the tent pole he'd been leaning against. "Alright, alright," he conceded, a genuine smile replacing the forced one. "I get it. More communication. Less spontaneous combustion." He then turned serious, his gaze sweeping over the bustling activity around them. "For now, we need to ensure everyone is settled. The real work begins now. We built a village from nothing, in minutes. Now we need to make it a home."
Levi grumbled something about Riku only "noting" things he felt like, but his eyes, too, scanned the nascent settlement. The immediate crisis was over. The impossible had been done. But the pragmatist in him already saw the next hundred problems.
"Right," Levi said, his voice returning to its usual clipped efficiency. "First order of business: figure out a proper defense perimeter. Second: sanitation. We don't need a plague to complement the existential dread. And Dola," he added, turning back to Riku with a stern look, "you and I are going to have a very long, very detailed conversation about your 'secret plans' when all this is truly settled. And I expect every answer. No more vague 'System excuses' then."
Riku simply nodded, a silent agreement passing between them. The humor had temporarily lightened the oppressive weight, but the underlying tension remained. The village was safe, for now. But the System, and whatever trials it had planned next, still loomed. And Riku knew, deep down, that his secrets were far from over.