"Oh? Are you entirely certain your office wishes to decline my proposal? Even if my companions possess the structural traits to manually restore this planet's broken ecosystem?"
Bronya's eyes widened to absolute limits.
Dan Heng and the pioneers hadn't obscured the harsh geographical metrics of the sector from her; she was acutely aware that even with the central core successfully sealed, the absolute structural damage dealt to Jarilo-VI made a natural recovery near-impossible. Even if the environment managed to stabilize on its own, the necessary timeline would stretch across a clean century—if not a full millennium.
Furthermore, whether the land could ever truly shake off the frost remained a massive variable.
Now, with this terrifying powerhouse casually claiming he could rewrite the planet's atmospheric code, how could she logically let such a historic opportunity slip past her fingers?
Bronya immediately straightened her stance and offered a deep, formal bow. "Sir... please. If your hand preserves the capability to alter our fate, you must help our people."
"Julian, you rascal, stop teasing Bronya," March 7th stepped forward, swatting at the air to break up the developer's dramatic posture. Having logged plenty of hours working alongside him back at the space station, she understood his personality perfectly and didn't bother with formal filters.
After all, the Express crew had served as the primary frontline squad to secure the core. Given Julian's stubborn creative habit of offering massive compensations even for minor structural damage to Herta's docks, she knew that even if the locals remained completely silent, the developer wouldn't simply walk away from a broken world empty-handed.
"In that case, let's call down a giant your database should recognize instantly."
"Step onto the field, Groudon!"
A brilliant, concentrated flash of red light violently erupted right behind Julian, forming a dense, pulsing sphere of pure energy. The geometric shell rapidly expanded across the snow fields, growing until its physical dimensions easily matched the hull of the deactivated Creation Engine before the light shattered into floating particles. Standing amidst the red mist was a legendary sovereign the pioneers knew by heart—Groudon!
"Roar—!"
The absolute frame the ancient titan plant-marked its boots against the ridge, the pale, frozen sunlight filtering through the clouds instantly turned blistering and scorching.
A wave of intense, sudden heat rolled across the peak, catching Seele and Bronya completely off guard.
Reality was far removed from a clean digital save file; the local clothing designs weren't styled for aesthetic lightness, but were heavily layered to resist the absolute zero of the eternal winter. Even a frontline fighter like Seele wore dense thermal leggings and insulated silks beneath her battle gear.
The two local women lacked the passive environmental firewalls granted by the Trailblaze blessing, meaning their bodies couldn't simply filter out sudden shifts in the surrounding weather metrics. Their established traits as Pathstriders merely granted them a massive personal resistance to extreme cold; it didn't allow them to ignore raw, physical heat.
Consequently, as the atmospheric temperature spiked toward summer levels, the two of them felt the sudden transition with agonizing clarity.
Yet, neither woman found the mental clearance to adjust their heavy outer coats. Instead, their eyes remained locked in absolute bewilderment on Groudon's massive, segmented red armor, staring in awe as the ancient drifts of glacial ice beneath its claws began visibly, systematically melting into running water under the fierce rays of the newly born sun.
Watching this miraculous displacement of the frost merely left Seele frozen in pure shock, but fresh tears instantly welled up within Bronya's eyes, spilling over before she could wipe them away.
During her long, tense march up Everwinter Hill alongside Cocolia, she had finally uncovered the horrific operational ledger regarding Belobog's true status—a reality her mother had systematically buried beneath layers of classified data.
The city's remaining mineral veins and food reserves were dropping toward total depletion; the entire settlement was facing an absolute, terminal resource crash within a few short generations. The millennium of desperate, unyielding labor endured by generations of Supreme Guardians looked like a tragic, dark joke when measured against the relentless advance of the ice.
The future of their civilization had been visibly, numerically hopeless. Had Cocolia refused to reach for a desperate variable, even if the city managed to evade the corruption of the core, Belobog would have naturally starved to death in the dark.
But over the last few days, Bronya had personally witnessed the fierce, unbreakable spirit of resistance burning within the citizens of the Underworld. She had seen the stubborn, unyielding will to preserve life anchoring the soldiers of the Overworld.
She had consciously chosen to believe in their collective future, stepping onto the ridge to force a change, even if it meant risking a catastrophic failure.
Yet, holding that belief didn't mean the crushing psychological weight of her office had magically vanished from her shoulders.
Now, the collective prayers of dozens of generations and the absolute dream of a thousand years were turning into tangible reality right before her eyes. How could her spirit not be shaken by such overwhelming joy?
At the exact same frame, a sudden wave of deep pity and regret for her mother pierced her heart.
If only your mind had managed to hold the line a fraction longer... you could have stood on this ridge to witness the dawn. You could have seen the hope for Belobog return...
Bronya desperately tried to wipe her face, but the raw, conflicting emotions of losing her mother while simultaneously watching her entire civilization escape an absolute death sentence completely broke her control.
"Waaah..."
Her breaths turned into ragged, uneven sobs. Her knees gave out completely, and she dropped straight onto the wet, melting snow, weeping uncontrollably as the weight of a thousand winters left her spirit.
Seele stood beside her, finally parsing the monumental truth of what the running water represented for their people. The habitable zones of their world were about to widen; the miners and farmers of the Underworld could finally ascend to the surface to cultivate the barren soil, securing a permanent food supply that would ensure no child would ever have to go to bed freezing in the dark again.
A sudden mist blurred Seele's own vision, but her fierce personal pride forced her to act. Remembering the pioneers were watching the clearing, she quickly swung her head to the side, aggressively brushing a lone tear off her cheek with the back of her glove.
"This is amazing," March 7th smiled gently, her eyes softening as she watched the frost dissolve. But within a few moments, a line of tactical worry creased her brow.
"I never imagined Groudon's environmental output could be deployed like a terraforming tool... but won't forcing such a massive weather shift through raw power cause structural problems down the line? Don't we technically need a Kyogre and a Rayquaza to keep the parameters balanced?"
Even if March wasn't the sharpest strategist on the Express roster, she understood the basic laws of type balance. However, her grasp on the deeper mechanics was fragmented, so she turned her head to look at Dan Heng for confirmation.
"The entire planetary mass has been locked in a deep freeze for ten centuries," Dan Heng analyzed, his voice low and steady. "Under these specific operational conditions, calling down Kyogre or Rayquaza would yield zero functional benefits. Granted, deploying such an aggressive, high-heat solution will inevitably trigger a temporary displacement in the local weather patterns, which might even brew severe localized storms."
"However, knowing his operational style, I believe Mr. Julian preserves a secondary routine to stabilize the vectors later on."
Although the developer was remarkably young, his combat capacity and creative authority were undeniable, causing Dan Heng to naturally weave a trace of profound respect into his tone.
"My thoughts align completely with your notes, Dan Heng," Julian smiled warmly, thoroughly amused by how deeply the archivist had studied the franchise's lore files to track the elemental counters so accurately. "Don't let your anxiety spike; my ship will remain anchored in the upper atmosphere for a short window. Once Groudon finishes clearing the heavy glacial blocks, I will deploy my other companions to balance the ocean currents and smooth out the jet streams. As for the long-term reconstruction... your people will have to manage those grids through your own labor."
"Your studio has already cleared a historic burden for our world," Bronya said, her voice still cracked and tight as she forced herself off the wet snow, her eyes red but clear. "Our administration wouldn't dare demand a single additional favor from your office."
She took a steady breath, turning her focus toward the pioneers. "And to our brave saviors on the Astral Express... please, you must honor our city by returning to the Overworld with me so our parliament can host a proper banquet to express our eternal gratitude."
"Yes! Finally, a real meal!" March 7th cheered, completely discarding her tactical posture as a look of intense, hungry anticipation illuminated her face. "I've been tracking through these frozen trenches for days and haven't managed to log a single decent dinner!"
"Let's initialize a link to call Uncle Yang and Himeko down to the surface as well," Dan Heng noted, his usual stoic expression softening into a relaxed smile now that the structural crisis was officially clear.
"I want to investigate the local garbage bins, boo hoo..."
Stelle's bizarre declaration was instantly cut short as March 7th lunged forward, physically pressing the quiet girl's head down to lock her jaw shut.
"Aha! Hehe... please disregard her input!" March let out a couple of dry, hurried laughs, turning her bright eyes toward the bewildered local leaders. "Our new passenger simply loves to act completely unhinged and play the fool whenever the tension drops, hehehe!"
Though March's cover-up was hilariously strained, the trailblazer's ridiculous antics instantly broke the lingering sorrow in the air, leaving the group with a warm, shared laugh as they began their march back toward the gates of the city.
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