The man—Colt Northrim, known to the world as Radiant Man—finally broke the silence.
A soft chuckle rumbled from deep within his chest, and then, he spoke, his voice warm but carrying that undeniable iron weight that even Elius, in all his caution, couldn't help but feel settled deep in his bones.
"Where'd you learn to fly, kid?"
Elius blinked, confused. His mouth opened slightly, but before he could answer, Colt strode forward, clapping a massive, calloused hand on Elius's shoulder with a force that would have flattened an ordinary person.
Colt's grin widened, exposing the fierce pride behind it.
"You have no idea how rare that is, learning how to fly so easily" Colt said, his voice growing stronger, louder, almost like a teacher giving a lecture in a great hall. "You know, when I first started out, back in my… hometown," he said, carefully avoiding naming his galactic Solarion Empire, "you wouldn't believe how much hell we had to go through just to get off the ground."
