Before Mira and Kai left Thronax, she turned one last time toward her brother Kayogara.
Her voice trembled like dusk settling over broken mountains.
"Brother… may the throne grant you the warmth we could never give."
With that, Mira and Kai stepped into the ship—leaving behind the ruins of a world they once called home.
---
Aboard the vessel, Kai sat silently, watching the stars drift past.
His thoughts churned in torment.
That cursed voice echoed in his head again and again,"Whoever you love will die…"
He looked at her—so calm, so selfless.
"Sister," he said quietly, "I don't want to lose you… not like the others. You need to stay somewhere safe. Away from me."
Mira didn't hesitate. "Of course, brother."
Kai was stunned by her maturity. A gentle smile crossed his lips.
---
Their journey began.
They traveled across galaxies—visiting planets that shimmered like dreams and burned like nightmares.
One world was home to beings that looked human… but something felt off. Their aura. Their silence. Their smiles.
Kai's instincts screamed danger. He didn't take the risk.
After nearly a year of searching, they found it.
Earth.
A primitive world, untouched by galactic wars. Its people were just like Mira. Fragile, yet kind.
But there was one catch…
Humans lived barely a century.
Mira, an Arkanian, would outlive them all.
Still, she smiled,"I'll manage. You go, brother… fulfill Father's dream."
Kai nodded.
"But first… I need a master. Someone who can make me worthy of that dream."
---
Kai remembered his father's words,"After me, you must carry the legacy of a Galactic Savior."
So his search for a teacher began.
First, he went to Ibrahim, the Fire Elementalist—a blazing titan who could command infernos with a flick of his hand.
But Ibrahim rejected him,"You're no Elementalist. I train only the gifted."
Next, he sought Rio, the Water Elementalist.
The answer was the same—"No."
Kai drifted from planet to planet.
Rejected. Alone.
---
One day, he landed on a wild, untamed planet.
A land of forests, rivers, and rolling hills—untouched by machines.
Beside him stood Luna, his loyal wolf—now fully grown into a majestic Fenrir, her blackish silver fur glowing under moons.
Though she had the power to transform into a human, she never had.
Kai looked around. The planet was quiet. Peaceful.
"No one wants to train me?" he growled.
"Then I'll train myself."
Luna let out a deep howl. As if promising the stars—He won't fall.
---
The next morning, while searching for water in the forest, Kai heard laughter echoing through the trees.
He glanced up—and there he was.
A boy perched atop a tree branch, smirking down at him.
A glowing thunder sword rested in his lap.
Kai narrowed his eyes. "Who are you?"
The boy jumped down effortlessly, his yellow hair catching the sun.
"You don't know me?"
Kai scowled. "Nope."
The boy's ego took a hit. But he grinned anyway.
"I'm Kazuya. Son of the Lightning Guardian, Evan. And you?"
"Kai. Son of Kaka, Galactic Warrior."
Kazuya leaned in, curious.
"Ohh, so you're here to train with me?"
"What?" Kai blinked. "Why the hell would I do that?"
Kazuya froze. What did he just say?
"You're not here to train under Master Rampal?"
Kai's eyes lit up.
"Rampal? He's here?"
"Yeah," Kazuya said, puffing his chest. "He's my master."
Kai didn't wait for more. He bolted toward Rampal's home, dust flying behind him.
---
At the door of a quiet stone dojo, an old voice called out:
"Who are you, child?"
Kai stepped in and bowed.
"I'm Kai, son of Kaka. I've come to train."
Rampal's expression changed.
"Kaka… he was my brother-in-arms."
He placed a hand on Kai's shoulder.
"I'm sorry for your loss. But how did you survive the massacre?"
Kai's jaw tightened.
"My entire family… gone. Only my sister and brother survived."
Rampal studied the boy's eyes. Hardened. Haunted. Ready.
"Then train you shall. Alongside Kazuya."
---
And so began the story of Kai and Kazuya.
Two sons of warriors.
One forged in grief.
One born from lightning.
Both destined to burn the stars with their power.
But neither could predict—
That one day, they would draw swords against each other.
And the skies would mourn for them both.