The gray canopy hung low and heavy, stretching endlessly in every direction. Only the faint phosphorescence of the baseboard light dimly illuminated the wasteland. There was no wind. The air was cold, and still. Just one solitary figure moved slowly through the very center of the Karano Plains. Minato. His left arm, desperately pinned in place by his right hand, barely moved at all. Every time he stumbled over a loose stone underfoot, the impact shot through him, and the broken bone made an ugly sound beneath his skin. Each time, the edges of his vision flared white. (*It hurts.*) His thoughts were filled with nothing but simple words. He couldn't think of anything else. More than two days had passed since the Graveyard of Gates. Along the way, whenever he sensed the presence of Vanagloria patrols, he threw himself to the ground, held his breath, and focused solely on erasing all trace of himself. He throttled his core's output to its absolute limit, blending into the landscape like a mere stone. That was the sole survival instinct possessed by a coward of ★2. But the price had been steep. At the center of his chest, his core spasmed faintly. Its output was nearly zero. The core of his body was cold, and sensation was fading from the tips of his limbs. The phrase *on the verge of self-destruction* drifted through his hazy mind. (*...I can't end here. Not yet.*) He pressed a hand against the inside of his clothing. Above his chest, right next to his core, there was a hard piece of metal. A fragment of Shigure's measuring instrument. Burned into its recording element were her final words. *Waste Generation Hole. Grey Haven. Reverse flow pattern identical to the dud gate.* Those words alone kept Minato's legs moving. Before long, a cluster of barracks came into view ahead. A collection of crude buildings constructed from scrap materials salvaged from the Lumina Remnant Zone. Grey Haven. The largest settlement in the Summoning Ring World. He reached its outskirts practically crawling. The clamor of the core market echoed in the distance. The smell of the Dust Bowl, which served memory water. And—the scent of oil and metal powder. Junkyard Rin. The moment he recognized that sign, the strength drained from Minato's knees. With a soft *thud*, he collapsed to the ground. He couldn't move a single finger anymore. His vision darkened. His consciousness was fading— "Huh?" A sharp voice cut through. A woman poked her head out from the workshop entrance. Two-tone semi-long hair. Vivid light blue on top, with the ends a deep ultramarine. It was held back carelessly by a pair of multi-function goggles. Bright amber eyes narrowed, glancing down at Minato collapsed on the ground. Rin. She tossed aside the large wrench she'd been holding and hurried over to Minato. Crouching down, she adjusted the magnification on her goggles and peered at his chest. The fingers of her left hand, covered in fine scars, pushed his chin up. "Amateur hour! Your core output's pinned at zero. And this arm... the bone's done for. How the hell did you even walk here in this state?" Rin's voice was rapid-fire, yet strangely calm. She assessed Minato's condition without a trace of emotion, as if diagnosing a broken machine. Minato somehow squeezed out a hoarse voice. "...I'm... sorry..." "Save the apologies for later. Come on, get up. ...Or not. Yeah, that's not happening." Rin nodded to herself, then draped Minato's right arm over her shoulder and forcibly hauled him up. She was stronger than she looked. Dragging him along, she disappeared into the workshop. Inside, the chaos was as overwhelming as ever. Scrap materials were piled nearly to the ceiling, and the air was thick with the smell of oil and metal powder. Countless tools hung on the walls, and a homemade lantern illuminated the workbench with unnatural brightness. Rin laid Minato down on a simple cot and, with practiced movements, opened his clothing. At the center of his chest, where his core should be, there was only a faint flicker—the light was almost entirely gone. "Classic depletion. I'll handle the repairs right away. Who do you think I am?" So saying, she dragged a strange device out from under the workbench. A complex machine assembled from scrap, with countless copper wires and fragments of circuit boards exposed. At its center was a socket, into which several small core fragments were fitted. A makeshift core repair device. Rin carefully connected the device's terminals to Minato's chest. The cold sensation of metal. Then, she pulled the device's lever. A faint *whirr*—the sound of activation. The next moment, something deep in his chest began to grow warm, spreading slowly. Repair energy flowed from the device into Minato's core. Like water gradually seeping into a dried-up spring. (*Warm.*) At that sensation, Minato felt his body's trembling stop for the first time. "Alright, that'll keep your core at bare minimum. Next, the arm." Without turning around, Rin fetched a metal plate and cloth from the workbench. She carefully immobilized Minato's broken left arm, placed the metal plate over it, and wrapped it tightly with layer upon layer of cloth. Emergency splinting. "Bone repair can't happen until your core stabilizes. You'll have to make do with that for a while." "...Thank you... very much." Minato finally managed to speak properly. Rin was a complete stranger. So why was she going this far for him? That obvious question surfaced in his foggy mind. Rin grinned, as if seeing right through his doubt. "I'm just the type who can't leave broken things alone. Whether it's a weapon, armor—or a human like you." Those words were free of the world's irrationality—simple, and filled with strong will. Minato slowly moved his right hand, groping inside his clothing. He pulled out that piece of metal. The fragment of Shigure's measuring instrument. "...This..." He held it out to Rin. For him now, that was the only way he could express his intent. Rin took the fragment, set her goggles to maximum magnification, and stared at its cross-section with intense focus. The internal recording element was exposed on the surface, shattered by the impact. "This is... a recording element. The data's burned in from the heat." She secured the fragment to the workbench and connected a homemade optical reader. Light traced the element, and countless numbers and symbols began streaming across a simple monitor mounted on the wall. The lightheartedness vanished from Rin's expression. She had completely become the engineer now. Words spilled out in a rapid mutter. "Coordinate data. Beneath Grey Haven... ah, the location of the Waste Generation Hole deep in the Dust Bowl. This waveform... it's the same as gate residual energy, but the flow is reversed. A reverse flow pattern. And the source of this reverse flow is..." She cut herself off, eyes widening. Her amber pupils darted back and forth across the data on the monitor. "Directly connected to the First Layer's gate generation device. This Waste Generation Hole... it isn't a phenomenon independent of the dud gate. It was a residual circuit of the very system that creates the gates." Minato couldn't fully grasp everything she said. But Shigure's research was undeniably alive here. The final record of the measuring instrument she had lost was now revealing information beyond even what she had intended. That fact seeped slowly into his chest. (*Shigure-san...*) Atop the repair device, Minato's trembling stopped completely for the first time. Just then, heavy footsteps sounded from outside the workshop. Rin looked up. The eyes behind her goggles instantly showed a flash of wariness. But when the entrance door opened and she saw who had appeared, she relaxed her guard just slightly. "Old man Gale. What brings you all the way out here?" The newcomer was an elderly man. A ★3 veteran copy, Gale. He ran the information brokerage Harmonix here in Grey Haven. His face, carved with deep wrinkles, was expressionless—only his eyes sharply pierced through Minato lying on the cot. "Information. Payment can wait." He spoke only those brief words. Not a single wasted syllable. "In the shallows of Stillpond, a ten-pull of gold gates is manifesting. Estimated opening time is imminent. Vanagloria's main force is already on site." Having delivered only the information, Gale immediately turned his back and left the workshop. His retreating figure looked terribly small—whether from age, or the weight of the world. Rin stared silently at the entrance where Gale had vanished. Harmonix's information was never free. There must have been some transaction involved, something beyond mere core fragments. But she quickly switched gears, turning back to the monitor. "Gold gates... Stillpond, these coordinates..." She overlaid Gale's information with Shigure's data on the monitor. The two sets of coordinates matched perfectly. "...So that's it. The gate generation device's selection logic opens gates along the energy line of the Waste Generation Hole. Which means this place is..." "[whispers]Where Ark-san and Rect are waiting." Minato's voice trembled faintly. He was remembering. The direction those two had withdrawn from the Graveyard of Gates. It was precisely toward Stillpond. He couldn't ask for help. He couldn't fight. And now he, a ★2, was heading toward a place where two of the world's strongest ★5s had gathered. That recognition of hopelessness stole Minato's words in an instant. But Rin's eyes, if anything, were shining. "Perfect." She said it curtly, then headed deeper into the workshop. And then, with both hands, she began boldly dismantling the mountain of piled scrap. Metal fragments clattered noisily to the floor. "I've read that Shigure person's design philosophy from this data. She wasn't investigating the reverse flow of dud gates. She was searching for a way to directly intervene in the gate generation device itself." Her hands never stopped moving even as she spoke. She picked out the necessary parts from the scrap and assembled them at an unbelievable speed. "We install a reverse-connection device at the Waste Generation Hole. If we activate it in sync with the gold gate's opening timing, it'll force a hole into the system. If we do that, we might be able to pull back that Shigure person who fell to the Second Layer." Having stated her conclusion, she turned around and looked straight at Minato. "The device has to be installed on-site. And it'll require precise angle calibration. At least one person absolutely has to go there in person." Minato understood what she was about to say and tried to shake his head. But the words wouldn't come. "I'm going too." "[scared]...B-but, that's—" "You've only got one working arm. There's no way you can carry the device, install it, and activate it alone. Technically speaking." Rin's tone was purely that of an engineer's logic. She was speaking from reason, not emotion. That, if anything, left no room for argument. She began the final adjustments on the device atop the workbench. In her hands, worn-out scrap transformed into something meaningful, as if by magic. Her figure eloquently testified to just how hollow the measure of rarity truly was. Minato recalled words Shigure had once spoken. (*Rarity and skill are two different things, huh.*) Now, right before his eyes, those words were unfolding as a concrete scene. Not as a mere concept, but with the tangible weight of metal and light. "...We're short on core fragments." Rin muttered it quietly. "With what you gave me, the activation energy's a little short. Well, for times like this, I'll just shave off a bit of my own core. It'll grow back anyway." She said it in a tone that was impossible to tell was a joke or serious. The fingertips of her left hand briefly touched the center of her own chest. Something pulsed fiercely deep