Biocores: The Legendary Weapon Designer

"E.T.A is five hours for landing," a sterile voice crackled through the ship’s speaker system.

The hum of the engines rumbled in the background as Nioh wheeled himself toward one of the embedded medical monitors. The soft blue glow from the screen lit up his sharp features, casting a cold light over the dark circles under his eyes. He’d been analyzing Akron’s vitals for hours now — every breath, every heartbeat, every microscopic shift in her recovery.

The stone altar beneath her was warm to the touch, pulsing with subtle life. Just hours ago, Akron’s body had been skeletal — her skin ashen, her breath weak and uneven. But now, as if time had been reversed, color had returned to her cheeks, her skin soft and full, and her hair had grown several inches in silky waves. Life, once on the brink of slipping away, now poured back into her.

Nioh reached out, his fingers brushing along the surface of the altar, its bark-like texture strange and ancient. "Just what is this thing?" he murmured, awe slipping into his voice. "I’ve never seen or heard of a material like this before."

"Bark of the World Tree,"

Ekoh’s voice echoed calmly in his mind.

"You know what this is?" Nioh asked mentally, eyes narrowing.

"It’s an otherworldly material," Ekoh replied.

"Rare. Ancient. Alive."

"There are others?"

"There is much about this world you’ve yet to uncover."

Nioh’s grip tightened slightly. "You’ve felt it too, haven’t you? That signature... it’s familiar."

"Yes. Now I can confirm it," Ekoh answered.

"It’s the same as the one of that year."

A slow, dangerous smile crept across Nioh’s face. "Then the bait has been cast," he said aloud, his voice like a blade sliding from its sheath. "A meal they cannot resist. All that remains... is to cast the net wide enough to trap them all."

"In a year," Ekoh whispered,

"we feast on the blood of our enemies."

Just then, Akron’s fingers twitched — barely noticeable, but Nioh saw it. His head snapped toward her. In one smooth motion, he rolled closer and began detaching the monitors and machines connected to her body, giving her room to move freely. He reached for the altar’s root-like branches, gently retracting them.

A ragged cough echoed from her lips.

Nioh immediately leaned forward, patting her chest gently. "Breathe. Slowly," he said softly, firmly.

Akron’s eyelids trembled, blinking open with visible effort. The light of the room stung at first, her pupils dilating, her mind foggy. The figure hovering near her — blurred and backlit — felt so familiar. The voice even more so.

"Did... did I die?" she whispered through labored breaths.

"If you died," Nioh replied, brushing her hair back with trembling fingers, "I’d whip your corpse in public so you’d remember how to keep your promises."

She let out a weak, broken laugh — or maybe it was just air caught in her throat. But her hand instinctively leaned into his caress, drawn to the warmth of his touch.

"Where... where am I?" she asked, still disoriented.

"We’re on my ship. En route to Daewyth," he said gently.

Realization dawned in her glassy eyes. The weight of it pressed down like a falling curtain. "So you found out," she said, voice barely audible.

"I did," he admitted. "Eventually."

Her breath hitched. "How did you get me out of Shurima?" she asked suddenly, a spike of panic flashing across her face.

"Chut, chut, chut," he hushed, pressing a finger to her lips. "Don’t worry about that. Not right now. It’s not important. I just want you to—"

Before he could finish, Akron’s body jolted upright. Her gaze dropped to his legs — motionless and cloaked in frost-like energy that radiated a bone-deep cold. The wheelchair. The stillness. The absence of life below the waist.

Her breath caught. A single tear slipped from her left eye.

"Why?" she asked, voice raw and breaking.

Nioh didn’t flinch. He only held her gaze with quiet intensity, as if the answer to her question stretched far beyond words — buried beneath months of silence, sacrifice, and smoke.

Nioh sat with a wide, lopsided smile — one that faltered under the weight of her question.

Why did he do it?

The answer eluded him. Maybe it was a need to feel in control. Maybe it was fear — fear of watching someone he cared about be taken away while he stood by, powerless again.

"If is fine," he finally said, voice low and certain. "I have a plan. I’ll cure you."

Akrona’s eyes widened, wet with disbelief. "Why did you have to sacrifice your legs, Nioh?" Her voice cracked. "You should’ve let me go. Shurima will come after you — people will die because of this. I’m not worth that kind of cost!"

Her breathing quickened, panic spiking. The monitors flared red, tracking her escalating vitals. Tears began to fall in a rapid, chaotic stream — a storm she couldn’t hold back.

Nioh didn’t hesitate. He grabbed her trembling hand and pulled her tightly into his arms.

"It’s okay, Akrona," he whispered into her ear. "I’ve got it under control. Remember what I promised you?"

His arms tightened around her.

"I’m your captain. I will protect you. I promised you."

The wailing intensified. Her tears soaked his shoulder, hot and constant. She clung to him as if letting go would mean collapsing again. Nioh held her through it — silently, patiently. For now, she didn’t need answers. She needed release. The pain, the fear, the helplessness — it all came flooding out.

And he let her cry.

Only once the sobs had quieted did she slowly draw back, wiping her tear-streaked face with her sleeve.

"How did you get me out of Shurima?" she asked again, this time with steadier breath.

"I got permission from your mother," Nioh said with a shrug, feigning innocence. "How much of a hooligan do you think I am?"

Akrona frowned. "Stop lying. Tell me what you really did."

A mischievous glint returned to his eye. "I threatened to drop a comet on Shurima and wipe out half the region if she didn’t let you go."

Her eyes widened.

"Did... did she agree?"

"I regret to inform you that you’ve been officially branded a traitor and banished from your kingdom," he said, half serious, half teasing. "Princess Akrona... is no more."

Silence fell over the room like a curtain. freewebnoveℓ.com

Akrona stared ahead, taking in the weight of the news. Deep down, she’d always known this outcome was likely. Her mother wouldn’t have let her go without a cost — and exile was the only way to make her freedom official without igniting a civil war.

Another tear rolled down her cheek.

This time, Nioh gently leaned forward and wiped it away with his sleeve. "I didn’t sacrifice my legs just so you could turn into a leaking faucet," he muttered.

Akrona let out a faint, wet laugh. "Why are you always so rude?"

"I’m sorry," he said, suddenly serious. His gaze locked with hers. "I’ve been... selfish. I didn’t give you space to express yourself. I didn’t notice your discomfort. I failed — as a leader, and as your friend."

She looked down, breathing in slowly. "Do you know what triggered the energy imbalance in my biocore?" she asked. "Did I come in contact with something... filthy? Or someone?"

"Not that I can think of," she replied.

"Well," Nioh said, glancing at the monitor. "Your biocore is stable now, but it’s still messy. Chaotic. Don’t push yourself — not until I find a proper cure."

She nodded solemnly. "Got it... Where’s Althea?"

"She returned to the Citadel," Nioh said. "We’re still in the process of becoming Conquerors."

"I see," Akrona whispered, her voice distant, thoughtful.

"E.T.A: one hour to arrival."

The announcement jolted them back to the present.

Nioh stretched his arms, then gave her a half-smile. "Clean yourself up. I want to introduce you to the rest of the crew."

She blinked, confused. "The crew?"

"We’ll be landing soon. And I need your help," he said, grinning.

"Time to put on a show."

Akrona stood in front of the mirror, fingers trembling as she fastened the collar of her coat. It felt strange—wearing real clothes again after so long in healing restraints. The fabric was soft, a deep navy blue lined with silver threads, too elegant for someone exiled. She looked at herself for a long moment.

Not a princess.

Not a soldier.

Just... Akrona.

The ship gave a soft chime. Gravity adjusted.

Nioh’s already at the airlock, she thought.

She inhaled, exhaled, then stepped out.

The hallway stretched ahead, sterile but humming with unseen energy. As she approached, voices grew louder—laughter, idle chatter, clinks of tools being put away. She paused outside the open chamber doors.

Inside, a small crew had gathered. three individuals stood scattered throughout the hangar bay, illuminated by the soft glow of the descent lights. The ship was beginning its final descent into Daewyth—an otherworldly continent visible now through the panoramic glass. Towering jade mountains, rivers of crystal, and a sky swirling with luminous clouds painted the horizon like a dreamscape pulled from legend.

Nioh was at the front, seated in his floating wheelchair, arms crossed casually. His demeanor was relaxed, but his eyes flicked Akrona the moment she stepped in. He gave her a knowing look.