The world is burning like a dying sun.
The continent of Florisa had been quiet for the centuries, but in just one conflict it covered in ash and blood.
Steel birds were flying in the skies of the Country of Lunic, and the cities which once covered in melody of light hum of machines now turned into the screams.
The air which smelled with the flowers' fresh and pungent smell now turned into of oil, ash, and blood.
It's the third month of the second solar war, and humanity had finally learned how small sky truly was.
In the western outskirts of Hallan province in Lunic, amid of a strech of broken farmland, a wooden house stood alone, it's roof was cracked by artillery attacks, it's windows were blackened by the smoke, and within it a family was hiding – three figures framed in front of a lamplight.
Sameer was only seven.
He sat by the window, watching the silhouettes of the flyes – the flying war machines – that draws silver lines across the night sky. His hand were small and trembling around a brass toy plane. Each time the horizon flashed, his reflection in the glass flickered, swallowed by the brief light of death.
"don't look" his mother said. "The sky was not for us tonight".
But Sameer couldn't stop. There is something in this child's gaze already sought meaning in his ruin.
His father – Captain Rahan Veer – was a soilder of lunic's dwindling army, still wearing his militry flight suit, the insignia was torn, the badges was faded.
His mother, lira was once a technician for the solar program, before it had turned into the means of mass terrorising.
That night they were not Lunic's official but merely parents who are trying to belive in one last night.
Outside this wooden house, the ground shook. A shadow descended through smoke.
It's not like others, it's somewhat different, it looks like landing not crashing like others.
Through the grey smoke of ashes, a tall figure appeared and stepped forward. His flye armor was charred gold, it's wing folded like a fallen angel's. his helmet hissed opened, releasing a sigh of steam.
Alriu Halhi Dust.
The legend. The man which battlefield itself seemed to be obey.
His eyes were color of dry amber – calm, unhurried, and wrong.
This man was called Max High – a title given only to those who had flown to hell and returned laughing.
"Rahan Veer", Alriu said, his voice is quiet as a turning of a blade. "your coordinates were classified. I wondered how long you'd like to hide."
Sameer's father stepped outside trembling but proud.
"Hide? From you?" coughing blood on the ground. "the war was already over. You have already won".
"Not for me," Alriu replied.
He moved like a ghost, looking around the ruined house – the broken picture frames, the smell of food which is still warm, and a child clutching a toy plan. Then he smiled- softly.
"Do you know what's funny about war, Captain? We kill each other to stop killing. We burn cities to preserve peace. And in the end, children still look up at the sky."
Lira stepped in front of Sameer.
"Please. He's just a boy."
Alriu's gaze lingered, Lira on her face. And Alriu's expression were almost cracked for a brief moment, as if he remembered something that was buried long ago.
He rose his hand. Slow and Deliberate.
A hum filled the air. The solar core embedded in his gauntlet glowed in faint gold. And a single flash of ray, made everything silent.
Only this silence cracked with a noise "tud" sound, that Lira's body made after it touched the ground. Sameer was shocked, Rahan screamed her name from the depth of his soul.
Then, he fired three shots in direction of Alriu chest. But Alriu didn't reacted, he not even flinched.
But the bullet never reached his chest, they were in his hand. He caught them in mid-air.
"You should have stayed in the sky", Alriu murmured.
Then he, cut down the Rahan with his blade.
And. When it's done, only things were remains was silence, a small boy who is seen all of this, and a man who did this all.
Alriu crouched down, to this little boy face only some inches away.
"You'll remember this," he said.
"Why… why didn't you kill me?" Sameer said in cracked voice.
"because," Alriu whishpered, "you are not ready yet".
He stood, and turn away, only to left the a pool of blood in which his armor was reflecting. The flye was behind him unfolding its wings, like mechanical feathers catching the moonlight like a thousand knives.
Before stepping inside, he glanced back at the kid, who is sitting on that pool of blood he created. And said "Fly, Fly High you Dumb thing—no, no. lets play this game, you want revenge—come find me".
Then he was gone, vanishing into the sky's roar.
Only left.
Two dead bodies, and a smaeer sitting on the pool of blood.
Sameer walked to his mother's side and shaking her shoulder until the warmth left his fingers. His father's eyes were open, staring at the ceiling.
The toy plane lay broken beside him.
Outside, dawn was coming.
The sun rose over the horizon—a pale, bleeding disc—and for the first time in his life, Sameer hated the light.
He stumbled out of the wreckage and looked upward.
Smoke curled into the air like ghosts, twisting into shapes of wings. Above him, Flyes crossed paths—one chasing, one fleeing—like two specks of metal pretending to be gods.
And in that broken, burning sky, a seed was planted.
Not hope. Not courage.
Something colder. Purer.
A vow.
He whispered it to no one.
"I'll find you… and I'll kill you."