Gaia Chronicles: The Integral Saga

The dawn rose slow and tender over Gaia's grand courtyard, gilding every banner and stall in molten gold. A hush still lay over the square where, the night before, the Seven had stood together—petal, flame, and song all laid bare before Cyg's silent acceptance.

But dawn meant the Festival's next tide, and with it, the Knight Carnival—a day meant to celebrate the strength and eccentricity of every Integral Knight.

By the time the sun had climbed halfway to its zenith, the central plaza pulsed with energy. Colored ribbons marked each game arena. Food stalls steamed with bread and grilled meats. Children darted between the columns, carrying little figurines shaped like the Knights themselves.

The other Integral Knights had risen early—some to prepare events, others simply to watch and tease.

Elaine, bright-eyed despite the long night, leaned against a stack of crates with her rapier propped at her side.

"Did everyone sleep?" she called out cheerfully.

"Or did you all lie awake thinking about who blushed hardest?"

Harriet, seated cross-legged nearby, scowled at her over a flask of chilled juice.

"I wasn't blushing," she grumbled. "It was hot. Fire affinity, remember?"

"You were crimson," Mia teased, her voice soft but gleeful.

Charlotte adjusted her spectacles, refusing to look up from the delicate automaton she was repairing.

"At least I did not stammer," she sniffed. "Unlike some people."

Her gaze flickered—just once—toward Hikari, who was quietly attempting to vanish behind a barrel of festival pamphlets.

Sylvia, freshly dressed in a sleeveless azure tunic, lifted a brow.

"It's a new day," she said firmly. "A new day to prove we are more than—"

"More than seven hopeless girls," Harriet cut in dryly.

Sylvia's lips curved.

"—more than seven brave hearts," she corrected.

Carnival Unleashed

A trumpet blast signaled the official opening.

Sir Ali, stoic as ever, stepped onto the central stage with King Leonardo at his side.

"Knights of Gaia," Ali announced, voice carrying over the crowd, "this day belongs to you. Show the people the faces behind your titles. The strength that is also joy."

The King raised his staff, smiling broadly.

"And may you indulge your eccentricities," he boomed, "so that the world remembers you not as weapons—but as human."

Cheers broke out.

Cyg arrived with quiet inevitability, trailing the others as though he'd never left the square.

He wore his standard uniform—gunblade sheathed across his back, silver badge gleaming at his throat.

He did not look tired, though any of them could guess he'd hardly rested.

Harriet immediately stepped in front of him, arms crossed.

"You will participate," she declared.

It wasn't a question.

Mia hovered near his elbow.

"It's tradition," she murmured, voice hopeful. "And…you did say you'd watch our games."

Cyg said nothing.

But he made no move to leave, which—by the reckoning of all seven—was assent.

The Carnival Games Begin

The square exploded in movement.

Integral Knight Julius was already halfway up the climbing wall, sparks of electricity snapping from his fingertips to the iron rungs.

Diane calmly prepared the gravity-maze challenge, surrounded by awestruck children.

Raika leapt onto the demonstration arena, katana blazing with Wild Force as she split watermelons midair.

Elaine clapped her hands in delight, then turned to Cyg.

"Would you rather try the rope course with me," she teased, "or be cornered by all seven of us again?"

Before he could answer—not that he would have—Charlotte gently tugged his sleeve.

"There is…a mechanical exhibit I prepared," she said. "You might…like to see it."

Her cheeks colored as she added, "It's an automaton configured to respond to your processing signature."

Harriet rolled her eyes.

"Oh, please. Just admit you made it to impress him."

Charlotte lifted her chin.

"I did. And I'm not ashamed."

Scattered Encounters

Over the next hour, Cyg was quietly—relentlessly—pulled from event to event.

Elaine made him stand at her side while she demonstrated wind manipulation to a crowd of cheering children, scattering petals in a miniature tornado.

Sylvia insisted he hold the base of her harp while she played a brisk melody.

Mia showed him a delicate figurine she'd crafted on the spot—a tiny likeness of his gunblade rendered in crystal.

Hikari tried—very earnestly—to vanish behind the prize tent, only for Harriet to drag her back, arm looped firmly around her shoulders.

"He's here," Harriet muttered. "You don't get to hide."

Hikari's pale cheeks turned scarlet.

"I—I wasn't hiding," she squeaked.

"You were," Harriet insisted. "It's fine. I'm terrified, too."

Eun-Ha alone did not compete for his attention. She simply stood a little apart, Solmaria resting against her shoulder, and watched him with calm, unhurried eyes.

When at last he looked back—just a flicker of acknowledgment—she smiled faintly.

That was all she needed.

The Unscripted Moment

Near midday, as the games wound into their second round, Cyg found himself cornered in a quieter lane between stalls.

He turned—slowly—to find all seven of them there again.

Charlotte spoke first.

"I know you don't take initiative," she said gently.

"But if…if there is ever something you wish to say—"

Harriet lifted her hand.

"—or do," she amended firmly.

Elaine smiled, warm as the breeze lifting her hair.

"—or feel," she finished.

Sylvia's eyes were bright, fierce with hope.

"Just know," she said, "we'll still be here."

Mia looked down, voice trembling with earnestness.

"All of us," she whispered. "Even if it takes years."

Eun-Ha and Hikari said nothing.

But their eyes spoke clearly enough.

Seven hearts—undaunted by silence.

Seven souls—united in this one impossible longing.

And though Cyg only inclined his head, it was not indifference.

It was simply his way of promising:

I see you.