Nuclear Winter #1
The colossal criminal syndicate, Seven's Finger. Not some lowly grunts, but two of their executives had infiltrated and kidnapped a student.
It was an unprecedented scandal in the history of Federico Academy.
In truth, it put the academy in an exceedingly awkward position. For one, the kidnapped student hailed from a prestigious noble house of the continent's mightiest nation, Yggdrasil. And the one who had repelled those two executives and rescued her wasn't even a professor or a student council officer—it was a freshman who had barely enrolled.
That freshman—Ricardo—made it impossible to even briefly divert attention by dragging the defeated executives through the courts.
Leviathana of Envy had infiltrated as far as the classrooms, but she was merely an avatar. Glontes of Gluttony was the real deal, yet reports stated he had vanished right after the duel. The academy's own investigation confirmed it: all that remained where Glontes had stood was a pile of pitch-black ash.
Incidentally, the source of that report was none other than Erhun. The sole witness to Ricardo's duel with Glontes, he had provided a detailed account of the events.
Of course, he had conveniently omitted any mention of the anomaly presented by Machinery Bombardment Dragon - Enola Fortress and Ricardo at the moment of its summoning. Erhun figured that if word of that reached the higher-ups, it would only bring Ricardo a world of headaches.
To Erhun, Ricardo remained an object of terror. The horrific stench of that mental image aside, anyone harboring an absurd monster like Enola Fortress was no joke.
A monster manifested as an Origin Card was essentially an extension of the player themselves. Which meant Ricardo undoubtedly shared some fundamental connection with Enola Fortress.
Yet despite that, Erhun had chosen to conceal Ricardo's secret. Because even while summoning such a terrifying beast,
"Erhun."
"Fall back. With Pollux."
...Ricardo had prioritized their safety first, tossing them his jacket with a grin. Erhun was starting to trust the man's humanity.
Fear him, yet believe in him. What an ironic twist.
As a result, the academy's options were severely limited.
They first had to contend with the torrent of public outrage. To dilute it, the academy began propping up Ricardo—the one who had resolved the crisis—as a hero.
It was a blatant ploy to use him as a shield, but the people around him were all formidable in their own right. Contrary to the academy's intentions, events began unfolding in Ricardo's favor.
For starters, Professor Georgia went out of his way to ensure Ricardo squeezed every last benefit from the situation.
Beginning with a stockpile of some two hundred rare Support Cards. Access to the Rank 4+ archives reserved for third-years and above. A hefty load of academy credits. And on top of the standard rewards for top performers, extra credit to offset his frequent absences.
Adella wasn't idle either. The head of House Belluna chafed at her free-spirited personality and wardrobe choices, but he was also a hopeless doting father.
He flew into a rage upon hearing she'd been targeted by Seven's Finger, but that fury quickly turned to effusive gratitude and pledges of support once Adella relayed Ricardo's role.
"Grr... I can't stand some moldy creep buzzing around my Adella, but I won't let the academy turn her savior into their puppet... No, wait—romance is still off-limits for my little girl! She already promised to marry her daddy!!"
"You're being ridiculous, dear. She probably wouldn't want your clothes mixed with hers anymore anyway."
"She wouldn't!?"
...Though he did air all that from the privacy of his study.
With Alessia Le Fell Ardia's royal backing and the support of Daphne von Lilucania—who had taken a multifaceted interest in Ricardo—the academy gained nothing from lionizing him beyond a momentary breather.
Even if they wanted to exploit his strength, they feared getting "Cedrac'd."
Some academy councilors even floated the idea of using Pollux, who lived off the grid in the Bewitching Forest, to shift public eyes elsewhere. But that plan crumbled under fierce opposition from Alexander Wales Belluraca, Pollux's close friend, and Erhun's testimony that Pollux had been pinned down battling Glontes.
In the end, all the academy could do was scramble on foot to appease investors and keep them from bolting. Even the stodgy councilors hustled to protect their seats, allowing a relatively swift cleanup given the crisis's scale.
However, Ricardo—the eye of this storm—had yet to awaken since the Glontes duel.
"It's a form of—self-preservation, one might say."
Beltum Professor gathered everyone in his cavernous office and spoke.
Alessia, Alexander, Beatrice, and Eden were absent, each pulling strings from their positions to shield Ricardo and Pollux from fallout.
In their stead sat Professor Georgia and Isabella, plus Adella and Erhun at their own insistent request.
They listened with rapt attention, nerves on edge, hanging on the turtle professor's every slow word.
"Self-preservation?"
Adella asked. Unlike her usual self, she looked utterly deflated—like a puppy denied its master's pat.
She bore no blame in the ordeal, but Ricardo had suffered greatly as a result, and now he lay in endless slumber.
The turtle professor fixed his massive eyes on her for a moment, then nodded ponderously.
"Indeed. Short-term exposure to—intense stress, culminating in the relief of rescuing you, Belluna—that's likely the trigger."
"Even relief is a problem...?"
"Not a problem, per se. More like the exhaustion after a full sprint."
Professor Georgia interjected. His tone was coolly analytical, yet laced with consideration for Adella.
"On that note—I have a question for you, Erhun. You said Bardi's state was off during the duel?"
"...Y-yes."
Erhun twitched her nose uncomfortably. Merely recounting it revived the terror of Enola Fortress's summoning.
The ratatosk beastkin—ears and tail hidden in human guise—swallowed hard and haltingly described the scene.
Glontes' duel itself, where damage had materialized into reality. Beyond that, Enola Fortress inflicting harm even on spectators. Ricardo's left eye, dyed pitch-black just like the beast's. And the conversation exchanged between Enola Fortress and Ricardo.
"Hmm..."
"Can a card like that even exist...?"
"It's not impossible. Origin Cards have rampaged through history now and then. However."
Professor Georgia's face grew grave.
"Ricardo's Enola Fortress... It seems to possess an unusually strong ego."
A heavy silence blanketed the room.
"Then."
Breaking it was Isabella, who—uncharacteristically—had kept silent with a weary expression.
"What must we do."
Her blue eyes flashed colder than ice, fixed on Beltum Professor as if nothing mattered but Ricardo's well-being.
Thud. The professor tapped his staff lightly.
"Nothing—changes."
He continued in his plain, plodding tone.
"Bardi isn't—merely asleep. More likely than not—he's fighting within himself right now."
"Fighting... Enola Fortress?"
"All that—surrounds him."
Thud.
"Yet—we gave him purpose in that prior delve. To lay his dead—to rest. Bardi—is resilient. Even now—he pursues that goal."
Thud.
"Thus—our task is singular. Ensure he doesn't break—before achieving it. Lend him—our strength."
Are you prepared? Beltum Professor asked with a glance instead of words.
No verbal reply came. Instead, resolute faces and firm nods soared toward him.
"Good. Then—let us begin."
The professor lumbered over, settling beside Ricardo's head where he lay atop the magic circle.
Isabella and Adella at his arms. Georgia and Erhun at his legs.
With preparations set, the staff struck the floor once more.
Whiiiiiir...
In the next instant, a gray-eyed wasteland greeted them. A chill that froze even the soul.
Creeeak, crrreeeak...
In the oppressive darkness where all seemed frozen, a bit removed from their view—a Puppet Doll dragged coffins of the dead.
Teetering on the verge of collapse.
Yet its gaze fixed unerringly ahead.
Toward a homeland it could never return to. The deepest, darkest abyss of the heart.
To the Lost World.
No graves or remains left in reality. So it sought to bury his precious ones in the profoundest depths of his soul.
The Cursed Puppet Doll trudged on without cease.
It was a world's funeral.
But also one man's solemn rite.