The early autumn morning was cold well before dawn. At the port of Petralca, the smell of the tide and the raw stench of fish mingled together before daybreak, and the seaweed washed up by last night's storm still lay wet upon the cobblestones. As one drew closer to the tip of the pier, the wind grew stronger, howling deep within the ears. None of the dockworkers would come near. At the very end of the breakwater, the old fisherman Gregorio sat huddled. Sixty-eight years old, a man who had given his entire life to the sea. Now he clawed at his own knees with wrinkled hands, head bowed. His shoulders trembled, and not only from the cold. In last night's storm, his only son had not returned. Sailboat and all, swallowed by the sea. His fellow fishermen kept their distance. They could find no words to offer him. The people of a port town know the terror of the sea. And because they know it, they also know that nothing they could say would bring comfort. The sky still dragged its burden of dull gray clouds, but the eastern horizon alone was just beginning to pale. —It was then. From the direction of the harbor entrance, there came the presence of someone walking. The footsteps were light, advancing without hesitation over the stone paving of the pier. Riding the wind, a faint scent of bread drifted by. Perhaps someone returning from morning shopping. Just behind Gregorio, those footsteps stopped. "...Grandfather." Serafina said nothing more. She quietly seated herself beside the old fisherman. After setting her shopping basket down at her feet, she wrapped both her hands around his wrinkled ones. Her small palms, though exposed to the cold sea wind, were strangely warm. Gregorio lifted his face. His eyes, swollen and ravaged by tears, reflected the figure of the girl sitting beside him. She was a girl with pale golden curls. Her long hair, reaching to her waist, was half tied up with a blue ribbon. Her eyes, a clear blue like a cloudless sky, gazed straight at the old fisherman even as they brimmed with sorrow. Near her throat, there was something like a translucent fleck. On her left wrist, a bracelet of blue shells, likely picked up from the sea when she was small. "[gentle]You don't need to say anything. Would you just listen to my song, for a little while?" Saying only that, she began to sing. It was a lullaby. A low, quiet, gentle melody. There was no Lumina crystal anywhere. She simply held Gregorio's hands tight and sang as though the notes were spilling from her lips. The lyrics were in an old tongue, carrying a tender resonance meant to guide someone into slumber. It was the melody her mother had sung to her when she cried at night as a child. A song that existed only to heal someone, only so that someone might find peace. In that moment. At the tip of the breakwater, the restless surface of the sea suddenly grew still. The waves fell calm. As if the sea itself were listening to her voice. The eastern horizon split open, and the morning sun streamed through. From a break in the clouds, golden light poured down upon the pier. And then—above the harbor, a faint rainbow arched into being. Though no rain had fallen, the light itself split into seven colors and traced a bow across the sky. The dockworkers swallowed their voices. Some stopped in their tracks, some opened their eyes wide. The strength drained from Gregorio's shoulders. Unable to hold back his sobs, he broke down weeping like a child. They were tears of grief, yet somewhere within them, a hue of salvation also bled through. "...Thank you. Thank you." The old fisherman, in a trembling voice, repeated only those words. —This phenomenon was not natural. Among the crowd, she was there. Aira, disguised in human form through transformation magic, was pretending to be a merchant selecting fruit at the harbor market. Short black hair—only her indigo eyes could not be altered, but aside from that, she appeared to be an ordinary human woman anywhere. She watched Serafina intently. The activation of song magic without a Lumina crystal as a medium. The pacification of the harbor waves. The appearance of a rainbow. She had only known of the phenomenon where these three occurred simultaneously from texts. One in several hundred years—the *Luminous Songstress*. So this girl was the one. (*The greatest obstacle to the plan.*) Aira's thoughts were cold and precise. The surface invasion plan to protect her people. Her mind instantly understood that an unpredictable variable had now entered its calculations. This girl must be eliminated. Deep within her chest, she issued the elimination order. Her expression did not change. Her amber eyes remained cold. And yet—somewhere in the depths of her body, something faintly creaked. Serafina's song held no hatred, no calculation, no hostility. It existed only to heal someone. It was a voice that came from entirely outside the logic of vengeance that Aira had accepted as natural over eight hundred years of history. That was precisely why she must be eliminated. So she thought. Within the crowd, Serafina rose to her feet. She said nothing to Gregorio, only smiled once, and lifted her shopping basket. —It was then. Serafina noticed a single gaze within the crowd. Watching. A gaze that was neither moved by a song meant to heal someone, nor directed with curiosity. Calculation, faint hostility, and then—a complex shade, as though it had glimpsed something it should never have seen. Serafina did not understand the meaning of that gaze. She knew nothing of doubting others. So to her, it was merely a curiosity—*I wonder what that is.* She walked naturally toward Aira. Wearing an unguarded smile. "[gentle]Um... did you come to listen to the song as well? If you'd like, would you talk with me just a little longer?" Aira lost her words. What was this innocence? This smile, this voice—it was like a single shaft of light piercing the darkness of the ocean floor. A light she had believed, for eight hundred years, would never reach her. —Foolish. What business do you have speaking to me? You are nothing but a human girl. But those words stopped at the back of her throat. A silence of half a second. Without a word, Aira turned her back. She walked toward the end of the harbor, threading through the crowd. When she reached the very edge of the pier, without looking back, she stepped forward just as she was. The sound of water followed. Aira's form vanished, as though swallowed by the waves. Serafina gazed at that retreating back with a look of wonder. Inside the shopping basket in her hands, a single loaf of bread toppled over in the wind. "...I wonder what that was about." She tilted her head slightly, but soon collected herself. She had to return to Gregorio. Within her heart, the next person she needed to help was already filling her thoughts. The rainbow above the harbor still lingered, not yet faded. A world of deep silence. A chamber within the Coral Palace Tiara Abyss. The Lumina crystals in the outer walls pulsed a pale blue, and the entire room was bathed in a faint light like the bottom of the sea. Aira summoned Carlo without ceremony. "[cold]It is the Luminous Songstress. I confirmed it at the harbor. One in several hundred years—an aberration who activates song magic without a Lumina crystal." Carlo listened. In his true form, transformation magic undone, his deep green long hair was tied back in a single tail, and his dark indigo eyes flickered faintly. Today, from far across the pier, he had heard that singing voice. It had been a melody so clear he could recognize it even from a distance. Aira's voice continued. "[cold]Deal with her before she falls under the protection of the Coraline royal family. Leave no evidence. I know better than anyone that this could become an obstacle to the plan." It was a perfectly cold and ruthless command. No inflection in her voice, no expression on her face, not a single cloud of hesitation. —And yet. Carlo saw it. While Aira spoke her command, her left hand unconsciously gripped the pendant at her chest. A crude ornament made of a small shell. A keepsake from her grandmother. It was the first time he had ever seen that gesture emerge when she issued an elimination order against someone. (*Lady Aira...*) Carlo bowed his head deeply. "[serious]As you will. With all my heart." Saying only that, he withdrew from the room. Out in the corridor, the bioluminescent creatures on the walls swayed gently. Beyond the window at the far end of the hallway, the dark deep sea stretched endlessly outward. He stopped his feet and gazed outside the window. Two things surfaced in his mind at once. One was the faint lingering echo of the lullaby the girl had sung at the pier today. The other was the queen's brief silence—the hesitation, even for a mere moment, in her response to it. Carlo let out a small breath and began walking down the corridor. The final adjustments to his transformation magic still remained.