Under the scorching light of early afternoon, the air shimmered with invisible energy.
Five hundred kilometers south of Southern Haven, two of the strongest superhumans from The Radiant Wall faced a nightmare that no science or power could explain.
The creature — an unnamed shadowy entity — had already destroyed three carrier fleets from three different Alliances, annihilated dozens of fighter squadrons, and crushed nearly every superhuman who dared to stand against it.
Now, only Ragel and Rugal remained.
Their bodies floated in the open sky, surrounded by spiraling currents of heated wind — the atmosphere itself seemed to reject the creature's presence.
They stared into the distance, eyes straining, searching for any trace of movement. But there was none.
The creature moved too fast — faster than even their enhanced vision, trained to follow bullets, could track.
In that tense silence, the sound of their own heartbeats drowned the whispering wind.
"Brother! Behind you!!"
Rugal's warning came too late.
Something struck Ragel from behind with blinding speed.
"Argh!! Damn it—what is this thing!?" Ragel snarled, deflecting the blow and retreating backward through the air. He countered instantly, but his attacks met only empty space.
The creature danced through the sky — a blur of darkness and speed.
Rugal hovered nearby, his eyes scanning the battlefield. Only he and his brother remained airborne. The rest — the elite supers from the three great Alliances — had fallen. Three carrier ships lay wrecked below, and the remaining fleets had fled, desperate to evacuate their leaders.
"This thing isn't even that strong!" Ragel shouted between breaths. "It's not using any kind of energy — its body's just… too damn tough! My power's useless against it!"
Rugal didn't answer. His eyes darted around, sharp and calculating. Something felt wrong.
"Brother… do you hear that?"
Ragel turned to him, frowning. "Hear what?"
Rugal floated closer. "Every time it attacks… there's a sound. Like something's giving it orders."
"That's impossible."
"Yeah… it should be. We've never seen any Meteor-class creature capable of commanding another before."
Ragel's expression darkened — for the first time, a flicker of fear crossed his face.
Both brothers were Omega-level superhumans, among the most powerful beings alive. Yet now, against a single creature with no visible power signature… they were struggling to survive.
"Don't tell me…" Ragel muttered.
Rugal nodded grimly. "It could be, brother… Maybe we should fall back while we still can."
Before they could act, the sky convulsed.
Thunderless shockwaves rolled outward as the clouds were pushed away — ripped apart by an unseen force that left behind an empty void trembling with pressure. The very air grew heavy, pressing down on their lungs.
Rugal and Ragel froze, not from paralysis, but because something was gripping them — an unseen hand clutching their souls.
"We should've left when we had the chance…" Ragel murmured, voice trembling.
Rugal swallowed hard, eyes locked on the luminous fracture now forming high above.
"It's too late, brother… whatever's coming—it's no ordinary creature."
Then it appeared.
A figure, pure black and gleaming like oil under fractured light, descended slowly — cradling an enormous beast shaped like a winged tiger made of metal.
It had no face.
No eyes, no nose, no mouth — only a void so deep it seemed to swallow light itself.
Yet both brothers could feel its gaze, piercing straight through their souls. The air thickened until even breathing became a struggle. The metallic beast beside it let out a low, thunderous growl that shook the atmosphere.
"What… what is that…?" Ragel whispered.
"Quiet, brother… if you want to live," Rugal hissed, cold sweat trailing down his cheek. Every instinct screamed run, but his body refused to obey.
Then the creature spoke. Its voice was deep and resonant — a vibration that reached into the bones.
"Do not fear," it said calmly, its tone almost gentle — yet more terrifying than any scream. "I will not kill you… not because I lack the will to."
It paused — savoring the silence, savoring their fear.
"But because you two… are not worthy of dying by my hand."
Their eyes widened. The creature… spoke like a man. Its words echoed not through the air, but inside their minds.
And in that dreadful realization, both brothers understood — this being was no ordinary entity.
It was of Origin-level Catastrophe Class.
"This… can't be…" Rugal whispered, every muscle in his body trembling.
Ragel's voice broke. "If… if you don't wish to kill us, then… please, let us go…"
The creature tilted its head, studying them like insects.
"I am not restraining you," it said softly. "You are free to leave."
The moment those words ended, its hand moved slightly. A pulse of invisible force threw both brothers aside like feathers in a storm.
And yet, as they tried to flee, they realized the truth — it wasn't the creature's power holding them still.
It was their own terror.
The black figure glided forward, shadow spilling through the air like mist. The metallic beast turned its faceless head and roared, shaking the heavens — but its master didn't look at them.
Instead, the void-faced being seemed to gaze far into the distance, as if sensing something beyond the horizon.
"I came here," it said, voice low and rumbling, "to learn who dared to slay my two pets."
Rugal's voice quivered. "We… we don't have the strength to kill your beasts."
The creature chuckled — a sound like grinding steel.
"Yes. I can see that. You two… are far too weak."
It drifted closer until the air itself screamed under its presence.
"But tell me," it whispered, "do you know what kind of beasts they were?"
Rugal shook his head wordlessly.
"They were two Origin Giants," it said, voice deep as thunder. "You humans call them… Entities."
Ragel's eyes widened in disbelief. "Impossible… We couldn't even face creatures that strong!"
The being turned its faceless head southward — toward the distant glow of Southern Haven.
"And yet… someone there did."
Rugal exchanged a horrified glance with his brother. No words came. Only silence — and the cold creeping through their bones.
The black figure exhaled — or mimicked the sound of it.
"Go," it said at last. "The one who slew my beasts is coming here… even now."
An unseen explosion of energy erupted from its form.
"Argh!!"
Both brothers were hurled skyward, tossed aside like leaves in a gale. The sky dimmed, light swallowed by spreading darkness.
"Come closer, human," the creature's voice thundered, echoing across the heavens.
"Let me see for myself… the one who could slay an Entity."
It reached down to stroke the head of its metallic beast. The creature lowered its head obediently, letting out a roar that shook the world.
-----
One hundred and fifty kilometers from the battlefield, two Southern Haven carrier ships glided through layers of gray cloud, escorted by dozens of fighters and smaller transport craft.
Inside the main command bridge, the air was heavy with tension. Indicator lights flashed relentlessly, warning that something far beyond protocol was unfolding.
Captain Solaris stood beside Aeria Voss, both fixated on a holographic map displaying a vast zone of disrupted communications.
In front of them, General Douglas observed every incoming feed — yet the radar remained silent.
Since their departure from Southern Haven, only a single distress signal had reached them — from a World Alliance carrier. After that… nothing.
Despite countless attempts to reestablish contact, no response ever came.
"How is it?" General Douglas asked, his tone calm but edged with steel.
One of the crew turned toward him and shook his head slowly.
"No response, sir. All channels are completely cut off."
Douglas exhaled, gaze still locked on the map's glowing red sectors.
"What on earth is happening out there…?"
Captain Solaris lowered his head slightly, his voice steady but weighted.
"Logically speaking, there's no known creature capable of attacking air carriers at that altitude."
"True," Douglas replied, meeting Solaris's eyes with a sharp look. "But if it wasn't a creature…"
Solaris turned to him. "You mean… humans?"
"Possibly," Douglas answered quietly. "But in this world, who would dare attack them?"
"There's a reason every Alliance competes to build flying carriers," Solaris said, his voice calm, eyes still scanning the data stream. "We all know Meteor-class creatures can't fly.
But if what struck them wasn't human… then the situation is far worse than we imagined."
Douglas said nothing for a long moment. His gaze drifted toward the control room window, where faint smoke could be seen rising in the far southern horizon.
"You're right…" he said at last, his tone low. "But think about it, Solaris — the ones heading there aren't just soldiers. They're the leaders of three major Alliances. Each one protected by Omega-class superhumans."
He paused, his voice softening.
"If even they were defeated… should we really continue forward?"
The bridge fell silent. Only the steady hum of machines and faint chatter of background comms filled the space.
Captain Solaris stood still — he didn't reply, but deep inside, he knew Douglas was right.
Why push forward, when the pinnacle of humanity's strength had already fallen?
"In that case," Solaris said finally, his voice calm yet resolute, "we halt the fleet's advance. I'll go there myself — to see what really happened."
"But Captain—" Aeria began, but the look Solaris gave her cut her words short. She fell silent instantly.
General Douglas nodded slowly. "Very well… if that's your decision."
Before the tension could settle, one of the main consoles erupted with a shrill series of beeps. Red warning lights flared across the room.
"Sir!" a crewman shouted, fingers racing over his controls. "Incoming transmission — looks like a video feed!"
"Put it on screen!" Douglas's voice thundered.
The central display flickered to life. A trembling image appeared — a wounded officer, half his face burned, surrounded by fire and smoke.
"Mayday! Mayday! We need immediate assistance!" The man's voice came in bursts, broken by background explosions. "Our carrier's… down! Heavy casualties… survivors still trapped! Requesting evac support!"
The feed cut off abruptly, plunging the room into silence.
"Trace that signal's origin," Solaris ordered sharply, eyes fixed on the now-black screen.
"Yes, Captain!" replied the operator, his fingers flying over the console as Douglas and Aeria exchanged tense glances.
"Coordinates found!" the crewman reported. "Roughly 130 kilometers from our position — surface level!"
Solaris turned swiftly. "Orders, sir?"
Douglas inhaled deeply, jaw tightening. "Deploy all medical ships to that location. Divert outer formation transports to assist in rescue. We can't leave them stranded."
"Yes, sir!" the operator answered, relaying commands across the comms network.
But before relief could set in, another voice broke through the chaos.
"Sir! Radar's picking up multiple aircraft moving toward us!"
Douglas snapped his head up, eyes narrowing. Solaris and Aeria locked eyes — their instincts screamed something's wrong.
"Verify that now! Identify those crafts!" Douglas barked.
The control room filled with frantic beeps and flashing lights. All eyes turned toward the main tactical display tracking aerial movements ahead of the Southern Haven fleet.
And then — within seconds — the red markers on the radar began to shift.
One by one, their colors changed… from red to green.
------
Outside the massive carrier, the skies roared with the sound of engines. Several aircraft bearing the Southern Haven medical insignia emerged from the belly of the airship, their metallic wings glinting in the sunlight as they formed a tight, orderly line — heading toward the rescue coordinates.
Beyond the main formation, a few transport ships followed close behind — among them, a smaller craft that stood out from the rest.
"I've been sitting here for an hour," Elara Queen grumbled, tapping her knee impatiently. "If I'd walked, I'd probably have made it in time to say goodbye to my grandfather by now."
The pilot in front of her let out a quiet sigh. "My apologies, Miss Elara. I still have no idea why all communication with the main carrier suddenly went dark."
Elara shot him a glare sharp enough to cut through steel. "Wouldn't it have been smarter to just drop me off earlier?"
"I'm just a low-ranking officer, Miss Elara… If I disobey orders—"
He stopped mid-sentence when he felt her piercing stare burning through the back of his head.
Elara clenched her fists, forcing down her irritation. Her eyes flicked to the two young soldiers sitting across from her — stiff, silent, and visibly uncomfortable, like they wished they could disappear.
"So what now?" she asked at last, her tone flat but impatient.
"New orders from the carrier, ma'am. We're to accompany the medical fleet to the rescue site. But you don't have to worry — just remain seated. We'll make sure you're safe."
"How did I even get dragged into this mess…" Elara muttered under her breath, drumming her fingers lightly against the cabin wall. Her gaze drifted toward the narrow window beside her.
Part of her wanted to blow this whole ship apart — to vanish into the clouds and be done with it all. Pretending to care was far more exhausting than combat.
But then her eyes settled on the faces of the two young soldiers across from her — barely more than boys, yet doing their best to look brave. Something inside her softened.
Her father's voice echoed faintly in her mind:
> "Whether you're in the city or in the sky, they're still people, Elara.
Never forget — you're not a monster."
Elara took a long breath and lowered her head slightly.
"I know, Father… but sometimes it's hard to control," she whispered.
Half an hour later, the aircraft began to descend. A slight tremor rippled through the cabin as the landing gear caught the turbulent heat rising from below.
Outside, the medical crafts were already touching down in an open field shrouded in dense smoke. Through the narrow window, Elara and the two soldiers fell silent — their faces pale.
Below them stretched a scene straight out of hell.
The wreckage of a colossal carrier lay scattered across the scorched terrain, still burning in several sections. Crimson flames tore through rolling black smoke, while molten fragments of metal trickled through cracks in the earth like streams of liquid fire.
"What… what happened to them?" one of the young soldiers whispered.
Elara didn't answer. Her eyes scanned the devastation sha
rply, analyzing every detail. But behind that cold, calculating stare… was something else — a flicker of dread she rarely allowed anyone to see.
The aircraft descended slowly, its landing gear scraping against scorched, dusty ground before coming to a jolting stop.
The engines whined down, replaced by the roar of searing wind sweeping in from outside.
The pilot opened the rear hatch, and a wave of blistering heat rushed in like breath from a furnace.
Inside, soldiers were already unbuckling their restraints, ready to disembark. The air reeked of smoke and burning metal.
Elara Queen removed her earpiece, her sharp eyes fixed ahead. She had no intention of waiting inside.
"Miss Elara, where are you going?" one of the young soldiers asked, his voice tinged with panic.
"I'm going out," she said flatly, unclasping her harness.
"You can't, Miss Elara! It's too dangerous out there — the heat levels are extreme, and there are still minor explosions around the crash site!"
Elara shot him a glare that froze him mid-breath. "I don't care. I'm done sitting here."
The soldier hesitated, glancing from her to the blazing world beyond the door, where his comrades were already standing by with weapons drawn.
After a few tense seconds, he gave in.
"Wait here," he said quickly, rushing to a nearby compartment. He pulled out a reinforced combat suit and a sleek safety helmet.
"Please, put these on, Miss Elara. The suit can resist external heat, and the helmet will protect your head."
Elara scoffed softly. She wasn't in the mood to argue. Without a word, she snatched the items from his hands — not because she needed protection, but because she didn't want to hear another excuse.
Silently, she slipped into the thermal suit, tightened the straps around her wrists, and secured the helmet with a single pull.
As she stepped toward the open hatch, a blast of burning air struck her face.
The soldier pressed a switch on the side of her helmet. Instantly, the visor sealed shut, covering her face completely.
"Huh… impressive," Elara murmured, eyeing her own reflection in the cockpit glass.
"Please be careful, Miss Elara," the soldier said before sprinting off.
"Sure," she replied quietly, taking a steadying breath.
Four other soldiers were already heading toward the medical transports, their boots crunching through the ash. The front hatch of the aircraft yawned open, welcoming the heat and smoke that poured in.
"Miss Elara? Where are you going?" the pilot called from his seat.
Elara didn't answer. Her visor's interface flickered to life, scanning the pilot's face — displaying his name, rank, and vital signs.
"Miss Elara—" he began again.
A thunderous explosion cut him off. The ground shook violently, rattling the aircraft.
Elara moved forward without hesitation. Through her visor, she saw the hellscape before her — the wreckage of a colossal air carrier, torn clean in half.
Some parts still burned furiously; others lay silent, melted into the earth.
Shattered metal, twisted weapons, and fragments of armor littered the scorched ground.
Elara Queen stepped out into the inferno.
Screams echoed from the smoke — desperate, broken cries for help. Pain, fear, the sound of dying breath — it filled the air like a haunting symphony.
She lowered her head slightly. Her heartbeat quickened.
Bodies — human bodies — lay scattered across the ground, twisted, charred, and motionless.
But among them, a few still clung to life.
Soldiers writhed in agony, their limbs torn away, gasping for air between waves of pain.
Elara's steps quickened. For reasons she couldn't explain, her chest tightened painfully.
This wasn't her. She was supposed to be calm — cold — unshaken.
She had slain thousands of creatures before, without remorse or hesitation.
But now… her chest burned, her breath felt heavy.
In this sea of screams and smoke, surrounded by dismembered corpses — she realized something terrifying.
They weren't meteoric beasts.
They were human.
Human, like her.
The sight pressed down on her chest like a vice, stirring a feeling she had never known before.
Her feet carried her forward — aimlessly, instinctively.
She wanted to shut her ears, to drown out the voices — the pleading, the begging, the dying gasps that wouldn't stop echoing inside her head.
Then suddenly — something grabbed her leg.
Elara froze and looked down.
A soldier — barely alive, his body torn in half — was clutching her ankle.
Blood soaked the burnt soil beneath him.
"P–please… kill me…" he rasped, his voice raw with agony. "Please… just kill me…"
A surge of heat ignited inside her chest. Her fists clenched tight.
Her eyes darted around the carnage, rage and confusion mixing in her veins.
Who could have done this?
Who could have created such a hell?
And then—
"Human bodies… so fragile."
The voice slithered through the air.
Elara spun around instantly. Her visor flared red — a high-level danger alert flashing across her display.
A dark, faceless figure stood before her, accompanied by a winged beast of blackened steel, its eyes glowing a deep, bloody red.
"Easy now, darling," the creature purred softly, stroking the metallic neck of its snarling pet.
Elara clenched her fists. "Was it you?" she asked, her voice low but trembling with restrained fury. "Did you do all this?"
"Oh, no… not me. But—"
Before it could finish, its beast convulsed violently. In the blink of an eye, its head was gone — severed clean from its body.
Black blood splattered through the smoky air.
"I raised it since it was a pup…"
Elara tilted her head slightly, her voice cold and merciless.
"And you shouldn't have brought it here… because I love killing things like it."
She stepped forward, eyes burning through the smoke. "Without mercy."