The air shimmered with an intense heat, transforming the landscape into a vibrant canvas alive with energy. The ground radiated a tapestry of fiery hues, a golden-orange glow reminiscent of standing on the surface of the sun itself. Streams of molten light cascaded like waterfalls, casting a surreal, mesmerizing effect across the terrain. Wisps of smoke curled upward, merging into the low-hanging orange mist, which draped an ethereal haze over the fiery expanse. It was a realm pulsating with life, where the roaring energy of an eternal flame held sway—a place where the sun's power reigned supreme.
Amidst this blazing inferno stood Bing Chilling, draped in a deep crimson robe that billowed gently in the heat. His blond hair shimmered, catching the flickering light and framing his face with a warm halo. He exuded a relaxed demeanor, a striking contrast to the fiery surroundings, his presence both commanding and laid-back.
"So, what did you call me here for, Helion?" Bing Chilling asked, his tone casual as he adjusted the fabric of his cloak, its rich color a stark juxtaposition against the golden landscape.
From the swirling mist of flames, Helion emerged—a small, cheerful rat-like figure, his golden fur glowing like molten gold in the sunlight. His large, bright eyes sparkled with mischief, and his ears twitched with excitement. A crown of sunflowers rested atop his head, and a delicate necklace of tiny golden beads adorned his neck.
"Well, Bing Chilling," Helion began, his voice bright and cheerful, "let's make this quick; I don't want to waste your time.""I just want to say—they are coming back."
"Huh?" Bing Chilling replied, furrowing his brow. "Who are you talking about? You don't have to sound so mysterious."
"Shut up," Helion retorted playfully.
"Well, in all seriousness, Bing Chilling," Helion continued, his expression turning earnest, "after a long wait, the Astrids are coming back."
"Eh, the Astrids? Aren't those the ancient people who fled Earth because they thought humans were limiting themselves? Blah, blah, blah," Bing Chilling scoffed.
"Precisely," Helion said, pointing an accusatory paw at him.
"Ugh, what a pain," Bing Chilling exclaimed, exasperation evident in his voice. "The world just got united! We are one!"
Helion's expression grew serious.
"We're soon to encounter a great filter—the kind that reduces civilizations to pulp."
"Dude, we just became one world, and now you're telling me that natural selection is going to destroy us? Bruh, there's so much work to do! I'm not dealing with all that," Bing Chilling said, flopping down on the hot surface, unfazed by the blistering heat.
"I do wonder, though," Helion mused, his voice drifting off. "What do they look like now? What kind of planet did they inhabit? What abilities do they possess? I wonder how their culture has evolved—how they interact with one another. Perhaps they've even developed their own language by now."
"Yeah, perhaps," Bing Chilling replied nonchalantly, his gaze lost in the shimmering horizon.
The scene shifted abruptly to the Celestial Dynamics Research Facility, a clandestine laboratory operated by the secretive organization known as The Astral Society. Concealed beneath layers of rock and fortified with advanced security measures, this facility served as the epicenter of humanity's most ambitious astronomical endeavors. The sterile environment, characterized by sleek metallic surfaces and dimly lit corridors, contrasted starkly with the fiery realm inhabited by Helion and Bing Chilling. Monitors flickered with streams of data, casting an eerie glow in the otherwise shadowy room, while the low hum of machinery filled the air, punctuated by the occasional beeping of alarms.
"Professor Adams!" shouted a younger researcher, Ethan, bursting into the control room, sweat glistening on his forehead and urgency in his voice."We've detected an unknown object approaching us!"
"It's astonishing!" he continued, his eyes wide with a mix of excitement and dread. He cast a nervous glance at his superior, Professor Jenkins, who stood at the helm of the control panel, furiously typing commands into the system."After careful calculations, the object is moving at approximately twelve times the speed of light!"
Professor Jenkins turned slowly, disbelief etched across his weathered features.
"That's impossible! Nothing can move at the speed of light!" he ran a hand through his thinning hair, the weight of this revelation pressing heavily upon him."Have we confirmed the readings? Could it be a malfunction?"
"No, sir!" Ethan replied, shaking his head vehemently. "All systems are functioning normally. The data is coming from the newly installed hyperspectral array we've been testing. It's legitimate!"
Jenkins exchanged worried glances with the rest of the team. The walls of the lab, lined with advanced technology and enigmatic artifacts, felt as though they were closing in on them.
"Activate the long-range scope," Jenkins commanded, his voice steady despite the mounting tension. "We need to visualize this object. If it's the Astrids returning, we must be prepared."
Ethan hurried to the console, fingers flying across the buttons. The screen flickered to life, revealing a swirling mass of colors and light in the depths of space—a cosmic anomaly that shimmered and pulsed with energy.
"Sir, I'm locking in the coordinates," he said, focus razor-sharp."It's approaching Earth… rapidly."
As the image stabilized, the team held their breath, aware that the fate of the world might rest on their shoulders.
"Remember our mission," Jenkins said, his voice low but resolute. "We're not just scientists; we are the guardians of humanity's future. We must prepare for anything."
Jin blinked awake, his eyes adjusting slowly to the dim light filtering through the cracked window above his bed. His black hair was tousled, falling in unruly strands over his forehead. Dark circles under his eyes hinted at countless sleepless nights, and his lean, angular face bore the quiet resilience of someone who had faced more than his fair share of hardships.
This was Jin's world: a cramped, crumbling room. Faded walls, chipped paint, mildew in the air. A single bulb cast a flickering, cold light. Crumpled papers, old clothes, a broken clock — all signs of a life held together with frayed threads.
He picked up his frayed notebook and scribbled:
Dear Diary,I suppose this is how people keep track of their lives, starting with "Dear Diary." So, here goes.My name's Jin. I'm 16 years old. Both my parents passed away years ago in an accident.Rather than wait for adoption, I chose to run, to live on my own...Now, I'm burdened with a debt of 50,000 crowns.No family. No friends. But I've learned to endure this loneliness. It's part of the deal, I suppose.
Later that morning, Jin trudged through the streets as a garbage collector, pushing his dented cart. His daily grind was monotonous, back-breaking, and often humiliating. But it was survival. He kept his head down.
Until the sky went dark.
Stars vanished. A monstrous shape loomed above—a colossal, silent vessel hovered over the city. Lights flickered along its surface, and eerie figures began to descend.
"What... is that?" Jin murmured.
Elongated beings, pale and grotesquely elegant, glided down. Their forms were unnervingly human... and yet decidedly alien.
Suddenly, with a deafening hum, the ship's cannons glowed.
A blinding beam of energy ripped through the city. Explosions. Collapse. Chaos.
When Jin awoke under rubble, he saw the beings up close. Inky voids for eyes. Skin pale as bone. Movements too smooth. Too calm. Inhuman.
Then came the leader.
Quiorra.
He stepped from the ship in pristine military attire, eyes glowing red like embers, hair white as starlight, and a katana at his hip that pulsed with power.
"I see… so this is Earth," he said coldly.
With a flick of his blade, a skyscraper fell. Cleanly sliced. Effortlessly.
Just as Quiorra turned to command his army—
A figure in crimson stepped forward from the haze.
"So," he said, voice cool and confident, "you must be the Astrids."
Bing Chilling.
Jin's heart stopped.
What the hell am I witnessing?