Chapter Text
After the tense conversation and the palpable strain that had come before, the rest of the journey seemed to return to normal. The walk was long and exhausting, but that didn’t stop anyone from pursuing their goal: finding the source of the signal. And yet, something unexplainable made the group uneasy. Their instincts screamed that danger was approaching, but no one dared to put that discomfort into words.
The wind struck the group sharply and unnaturally. It wasn’t a simple breeze — it carried a strange heaviness. The group felt it immediately. Something was wrong.
Kohaku, walking as a bodyguard beside Senku, instantly tensed. Her gaze darted among the trees, ready to react.
Ukyo, alert to the slightest sound, perked up his ears and caught a strange, unsettling noise: a metallic clicking — irregular, like something slowly bumping against another object. He frowned, trying to pinpoint its source.
Even faint, the sound deeply alarmed him. He stayed on guard, scanning his surroundings carefully.
Tsukasa and Ryusui also came to a halt, their instincts as warrior and explorer fully alert. A single glance exchanged between them was enough: they had felt the same chill.
Not far off, Gen and Suika were talking. Gen, usually cheerful, seemed distracted, almost absent.
“Tell me, Gen… You look sad. Is it because the others are distant with you?” asked the little girl, still holding his hand tightly.
For a moment, only the sound of the wind and indistinct voices answered her.
“What do you mean, Suika-chan? Nothing’s going on,” replied finally Gen with a small smile, trying to change the subject. But Suika didn’t let go.
“Still, you’ve got big dark circles… And you and Senku don’t talk like you used to. Did something happen between you two?” she whispered like a secret.
Gen remained silent for a moment, then pulled a flower from his sleeve and handed it to her, still smiling.
“Don’t worry about that, little Suika-chan. Sometimes, like beautiful flowers, certain things are meant to stay secret.”
“I don’t understand… What secret?”
But no words came in response. She looked at the petals, still holding Gen’s hand.
She wanted to ask again, but something in his silence told her he wouldn’t answer. So she stayed there, close to him — comforted, yet still troubled.
Meanwhile, Senku noticed nothing. He walked on, eyes fixed on an object in his hands: a small compass he had made with Chrome before they set off. The air was dense and humid from the rain, the wind slid over his skin like an icy chill. Still, he didn’t react, remaining impassive, entirely focused on the compass.
Nothing could break his concentration — not the conversations behind him, nor Gen’s attempts to make Taiju and Suika laugh.
This peaceful moment was abruptly broken when Senku stopped suddenly, his brows furrowed.
“Impossible…”
The group slowed down, intrigued.
“Is something wrong, Senku?” asked Ukyo, cautiously.
“The needle is going haywire… It’s deviating. There’s a magnetic field.”
“You mean there’s a structure nearby?” murmured Ryusui, eyes fixed on him.
“Could it be related to the signal?” added Ukyo, thoughtful.
“There’s a ten billion percent chance it’s coming from here.”
A shiver of excitement ran through Senku. Without waiting, he picked up the pace. The others exchanged perplexed looks but quickly followed. Gen was the first to catch up, a tight smile on his face — especially under the watchful eyes of Ryusui, Tsukasa, and Ukyo.
“Say, Senku-chan~ What if we took a break before moving on? We’ve been walking for hours non-stop…” he said in a light tone.
A long silence followed, leaving the mentalist a little lost. Senku finally turned his head toward him, then glanced at the setting sun. After a moment, he nodded and turned to the group.
“Alright. Let’s take a break.”
Pleased with himself, Gen gave a mischievous smile.
“Thank you, Senku-chaan~”
The group moved toward a peaceful spot, wide enough to rest during this precious pause.
This time, Senku stayed slightly apart, still focused on the erratic movements of the needle. He felt they were close to the interference zone, though he couldn’t pinpoint the exact cause.
A few minutes later, Kohaku and Taiju, who had gone scouting, returned with a suggestion. The place was spacious, deserted… and strangely used.
Subtle but visible traces. The expressions of those from the old world froze. They didn’t miss the detail.
Ryusui took the lead, noticing Senku was preoccupied.
“We’ll set up camp here.”
As the bags were unpacked and shelters assembled, Ukyo remained uneasy. Something still felt off. He approached Senku, who was already inspecting the surroundings.
“Senku, I hear a metallic noise… loud, not far off.”
That sentence immediately triggered his scientific instincts.
“A metallic noise?”
Senku looked up from his device at the former sonar operator.
“Yes. I’m not sure, but it sounds strangely close.”
Before Ukyo could say more, Ryusui also approached.
“You’re getting a bad feeling too?”
Ukyo nodded while Senku placed his hands on his hips.
“Now that you mention it, the tension is almost unbearable.”
“This place is too quiet… The air’s so heavy, even nature seems to avoid it,” added Kohaku, now joined by the rest of the group — except for Suika and Chrome.
Before another word could be spoken, Suika came running back, out of breath, followed by Chrome.
“Look what we found!” she cried proudly, holding out a small metallic object.
Senku squinted and took it cautiously. The cold metal vibrated faintly in his hand. He examined the mechanism in disbelief, then his expression shifted — curiosity gave way to focused suspicion. It was… a microphone. A real one.
“Where exactly did you find this?” he asked, more serious than ever.
“Over there, not far,” replied, Chrome pointing to the forest. “It looked like… a weird place. All metal. Like a room, but half-buried.”
The rest of the group gathered, intrigued.
“Wait, wait… a microphone?” repeated Gen under his breath. “Isn’t that a bit too modern… even for us?”
Senku didn’t respond. He studied the object a moment longer, then stood up sharply.
“Show me. Right now.”
Suika nodded and led the way. The group followed without hesitation, far quieter than usual. Even Ryusui’s usual grin had faded.
They walked only a few minutes before they saw it.
Amid a tangle of twisted trees, half-covered in moss and roots, stood a rusted metal structure. It looked like a hatch, or perhaps the top of a buried building. A few cut cables protruded from the ground, blackened at the ends.
A chill ran through Senku. He stepped forward, placed a hand on the cold surface, and listened carefully. A faint vibration — barely audible — emanated from the metal.
“It’s still active…” he murmured, eyes wide.
“You mean this thing is still working?” asked Ukyo, concerned.
“Not fully… But there’s a magnetic field. Something inside still has power. That’s what was throwing off the compass.”
Ryusui crouched beside him, observing the microphone.
“Could it be part of a communication system? Maybe someone left a message?”
The group froze.
Then Senku spoke, calmly:
“We may have just stumbled upon one of the last remnants of civilization… or something far more dangerous.”
Behind them, the wind rose again — sharper, colder, whistling through the trees like a warning.