Searching for Andromeda 25 All Beneath

"That's horrible . . ." says Sarah Denmark. "Basically, your other son . . . died at birth? Are you alright? It must have been hard,"

Joana Hughes smiled. She had now finished telling her story—her storytelling coming up to a conclusion. For the whole time she was narrating her life, the Denmark couple were ever-present and dedicated to listening. It was her first time people were so immersed in her story. It's been a while ever since she told other people about her life—and she was as bemused as she was years ago when Manuel agreed to date her.

"It was hard, but I know there are inevitable things." She answers. "That's why I gave everything to Raim,"

"I see. You must be really proud," Sarah exclaims. "You have a very brilliant son. He's a scholar in UHE, right? He's very much like his father, according to your story!"

"Yes, Ephraim is as smart as his father. They're very similar—and that's why they repel. They're not quite in good terms," she says. "But he didn't really have any say regarding him taking Archeology in UHE, unlike me."

"You were against him taking Archeology?" asks George. "That's a surprise."

"Well, he excelled in many things. I wanted him to be a doctor—but yes, my child followed his dreams nonetheless." Joana smiles. "Parents can't fully control their children, as they said,"

"Yes," says Sarah. "Our child is another example of that!"—she chuckles, "but we'll get on that later. Since we've finished practically eating the pastries and the tea is empty, I think we'd better get going?"

"Oh, right," Joana nods as she flashes a usual smile—a smile very similar to Ephraim's. "The quiche, right?"

"Shh! That's our secret!" Sarah mutters. "George, Dear, we're going to do . . . girl stuff now. In the kitchen. So . . ."

"Go ahead, Sarah, Ms. Hughes," George smiles.

He watched the two ladies leave; his wife giggling as she chatters with Joana, and Joana smiling at her as she teaches her something about ingredients. George Denmark remained in his seat as he watches the two of them leave. He smiles as he holds his smile ever-present as the silhouettes disappeared.

"Sire," says Alphonse. "I have something to report from the HR,"

"What is it?"

"The task force," Alphonse exclaims. "They are caught in an earthquake."

George smirks. "Oh?"

"Currently, the HR had a rescue team search for the missing members." He says. "A beeper notified the whereabouts of a certain member. It wasn't Ephraim Hughes'."

"Interesting." The president exclaims. "What about the building's integrity?"

"It collapsed completely. The screen on the surveillance room is a proof. There are no working cameras around the 'House' anymore."

George Denmark smiles. "What an interesting turn of events," he says. "Ready the agents."

"Sire?"

"Shut ANDROMEDA." George Denmark utters. "Burn the House."

"Sire . . .?" Alphonse blinks. "The search and rescue?"

"Tell them to fall back," George exclaims as he stands up. He then saunters away from the courtyard with his butler, Alphonse, following him.

"Sire, the search and rescue are halfway across the road to ANDROMEDA," he says.

"Have you heard nothing, Alphonse?" The president says. "This is all according to fate."

Alphonse eyes the president who was walking in a steady manner—he was very similar to his father, the former president of UHE. He was certainly a better strategist—but he was as cruel as him. Alphonse sighed internally.

"Certainly, Sire." He says. "I will tell the rescue to fall back."

**

Samuel couldn't quite remember his childhood, but he was a boy with a missing tooth at five. It was a wonder because he remembers his sister brushing his teeth while singing a rhyme every day as much as he could remember. He doesn't even remember how his tooth came off, but he knew it hurt him. His childhood memories comprised only of his sister, and he couldn't remember why. It may have been because of the impact of the car crash, which his parents did not survive, and drove his sister to coma.

When Samuel woke up, he was coughing up a liquid. It tasted as it came from the mountain—the taste of freshwater. It wasn't similar to distilled or tap—after he coughed, he slowly recovered his senses. He felt pain from his bloodied arm and winced as the ache sent him grunting. He was fully drenched like he was pulled out from a pool of water—

"Sam!"

The first thing he saw was a girl with big, green eyes. He blinked, and then he sighs.

"Dammit," he says. "Tell me we're alive, or are we both in hell?"

"Stupid!" Esmeralda exclaims as she sobs continuously. "I thought you were dead!"

Samuel wiped his mouth with his uninjured arm. He then examined the place. He sees a lagoon beside him, with vines crawling to the waters and onto the ground.

"Is it just me or are we in a forest," he says. "Am I being delusional?"

"N-no, you're not," Esmeralda answers as she wipes her tears. "But I woke up and saw you're drowning—so I—I grabbed you and I—put you here. So y-you coughed—d-don't worry! I didn't CPR or k-k-kissed you! You coughed the moment I brought you to the ground!"

And those words were enough for Samuel. He immediately recalled—how he held Esmeralda as the ground ruptured as they plunged in that waterfall—how he pushed her to safety, but then he ended up drowning—

"Crap," he says. "We're below the ANDROMEDA."

He paused. "And I never thought that THIS is the place below ANDROMEDA."

"Now we just have to find someone else . . . if the ground crumbled, there's a huge possibility that he fell here with us," says Samuel.

"Who?" Esmeralda asks.

"Berthold."

**

Berthold slowly opened his eyes, only to see himself strangled upon vines. He winced as he realized his body was twisted and entwined with branches and vines—his glasses were turned sideways and had slanted—Berthold thank the heavens it was still intact. He instantaneously tried to move around; below him was a lagoon with turquoise-colored water. He landed on the waters after he tried to moving away from the vines. The water had reached his hip.

He raised his head, only to see an endless waterfall from a cracked ground above him. It would take him a leg or two if he tried to climb the vines that saved him, and so Berthold only managed to get out of the water and assemble his thoughts in order to assess the situation. He stares at the spectacle—it was like he was in a jungle. He stares at the plants illuminating the vicinity. They were flowers enclosing a certain lamp; like a closed jar with fireflies trapped within.

He tried to remember how he ended up entangled with vines. There was yet another strong earthquake that followed—and he wasn't able to run and escape any falling concrete this time. He remembers how the ground gnarled and cracked. It broke into smithereens until he was taken down, deep below. He first fell into the air—and then his body splashed through a body of water.

He couldn't quite remember much because his senses were focused on nothing but survival back then. Berthold knew when his skin touched something sturdy, he immediately held on to it as he fell—which explains the scrape marks on his palm. He fell down to the waterfall while tugging the vine to himself as support.

He survived because of it.

Berthold Wagner stares at his trembling hands. He clenched his fists.

Where could Esmeralda and Samuel be?

He didn't have much time to think when suddenly, he heard a clutter. He immediately withdrew something he kept in his pocket—something he had always brought in case of emergency—a scalpel pen. He clicked the button on the pen as its ballpoint got replaced with a sharp edge.

There was no telling what lies beneath ANDROMEDA. They were searching for research with content unknown to him, after all. It had occurred to him that maybe the research was a laboratory specimen from space—an alien, perhaps. It wasn't far from possible given the scientific innovations he had seen over the course of many years.

He wasn't a skilled fighter, but he had trained martial arts in his early years. He was rustic, but he still had the grasp over the basics. He was a black belter at his elementary days, after all. He positioned his body to a formation for self-defense. He waited patiently as he heightened his senses and focused upon his ears.

It was silent for a moment until he hears the airflow differ behind him—in the blink of an eye, he raised his leg and swiftly swung it sideward to hit the proprietor. Berthold Wagner's eyes widened.

He missed?!

"What a sight you are, Doctor," a cool, arctic voice utters. "I investigated you thoroughly. You weren't a black belter for nothing."

Berthold Wagner blinks as he eyes the person who effortlessly dodged his attack. A person he least expected to see.

"Hiroaki Mochizuki!"

Hiroaki eyes Berthold with his dark eyes.

"Hello, Doctor."

Chapter end