The whisper of the night wind greeted them as the rear hatch of the aircraft slowly opened. The cold air of Silversun City swept into the cargo bay.
Captain Solaris descended first—his steps firm and disciplined. Behind him, Elara Queen stepped out, followed by two towering figures: Rugal and Ragel.
Outside, dozens of Novacrest Academy students had already gathered around the landing zone. Most were first- and second-years—clustered in small groups, whispering among themselves as they stared at the newly arrived aircraft.
> "Who's that?"
"No idea… someone important?"
"Pretty sure those two guys are Omega-level supers from Radiant Wall."
"Which ones?"
"The big ones!"
"Then who's that girl?"
Elara walked slowly among them, her gaze fixed on two figures approaching—an authoritative older man in a grey suit, and another in the academy's formal uniform. The landing lights caught the golden badge on the older man's chest.
"Elara!"
The voice was deep and trembling with emotion. President Albert Hayes—her grandfather—hurried toward her and pulled her into a tight embrace. Elara froze, unable to react. As far as she could remember… her grandfather had never hugged her like this.
"Why are you waiting for me here?" she asked softly, still confused.
Hayes released her, his smile filled with relief.
"Because I was worried about you, Elara."
"I'm fine, Grandpa."
"Yes, that's right, Mister President," Ragel interjected politely, though with a hint of playful tone. "Don't worry, the two of us watched over her the whole time."
President Hayes turned his gaze to Ragel and Rugal—long enough that it seemed he was trying to recall something.
"You two… supers from Radiant Wall, aren't you?"
"Yes, sir," Rugal replied respectfully. "We've come to think of your granddaughter like our own child."
Ragel added with a wide grin, "Our adopted daughter, if we're being formal."
Albert Hayes nodded slowly, his eyes softening.
"Thank you… for protecting my granddaughter."
"It was nothing, Mister President." Ragel thumped his chest proudly. "We're honored."
"If that's all, we'll take our leave now."
Hayes nodded, though his eyes lingered on the two men from Radiant Wall with a quiet sense of respect.
"Elara," Rugal's voice broke the brief silence.
Elara turned, her hair swaying gently in the fading wind from the aircraft's engines.
Rugal stood tall, his expression calm yet deep.
"Give our regards to your father. If time permits, we'll visit him ourselves. And Elara…" His voice softened, "…take care of yourself."
"Take this," Ragel said, handing her a glossy black card engraved with Radiant Wall's emblem.
Elara took it carefully. "What is this?"
"If you ever visit any city within Radiant Wall's territory, show that card. No matter who you are then… they'll treat you like a princess."
Ragel's tone was half-joking, half-serious. But in his eyes—there was something else. A message Elara couldn't quite decipher.
She gripped the card tightly, a small smile forming on her lips.
"Thank you. For everything."
"Until we meet again, Elara." Ragel raised a hand in farewell, while Rugal simply nodded with a faint smile.
Moments later—their bodies lifted gracefully, energy glowing beneath their feet. A powerful gust spiraled outward, sending dust and dried leaves swirling through the air.
And in the blink of an eye… they vanished into the Silversun sky.
Elara looked upward, watching the two streaks of light fade into the distance.
"I'll take my leave as well, Mister President," Captain Solaris said.
"Very well. Thank you, Solaris," Albert Hayes replied shortly.
Solaris nodded once, his gravitational energy flaring in a pale blue glow. In a heartbeat, he shot into the sky, leaving without another word.
Hayes turned to his granddaughter.
"Come, Elara."
"Where to, Grandpa?" she asked flatly, emotionless.
"Won't you at least step inside the Academy for a moment?"
Elara turned to him slowly, her expression calm but her eyes sharp.
"Not interested at all, old man."
Several officers glanced toward them, unsure whether to laugh or stay silent. Hayes frowned slightly.
"Elara…" he warned gently.
But Headmaster Sir Severus Trelawney chuckled as he stepped forward.
"It's fine, Hayes. Seems she still remembers who the 'old man' is."
Elara shifted her gaze to him, a thin smile on her lips.
"I haven't forgotten," she said coldly. "But what about the two of you? Do you still remember me?"
Her words brought a brief, heavy silence. Hayes studied her for a long moment, as though trying to read the meaning hidden behind her serene expression.
Finally, he spoke softly,
"Let's go inside first. I'll explain everything."
Officers moved aside, and the academy's supers cleared a path through the crowd of students. The night lights shimmered against the glass tower of Novacrest Academy, and beneath them, Elara walked calmly beside her grandfather—cold, elegant, and carrying questions that demanded answers.
---
Thousands of miles from the central plains lay a land long stripped of life. Its skies were forever smothered by thick, roiling black clouds—lightning lashing endlessly between heaven and earth, as if the sky itself raged in fury.
The scars of destruction were unmistakable. Towers of iron that once stood proud were now nothing more than decayed skeletons, reaching into the clouds like the broken spine of a dying world. At the center of the wasteland yawned a colossal crater—an impact site the size of an entire city.
Strange stones encircled the crater, glowing faintly. Some shimmered blue, others green, and here and there a pale white one pulsed softly, as if breathing. Their lights danced through the thick mist, creating a sight both haunting and eerily beautiful.
Where humans once lived, only alien creatures roamed now—bodies twisted, half organic and half metal. Some crawled through the ruins; others burrowed through the ground as if searching for something long buried beneath.
And at the heart of the crater, the massive meteor still rested. Its body steamed, radiating heat that made the air shimmer. Cracks along its surface glowed faintly, as though something within it remained alive—something that should never have existed.
Upon the meteor's jagged surface, several winged beasts slept soundly. Their wings were dark and metallic, glinting like forged steel. Whenever lightning flashed, their shadows sprawled across the crater—like ancient dragons slumbering in a forsaken grave.
But inside the meteor lay a hidden chamber, dim and drenched in swirling black mist that hung heavy in the air.
Its walls were not made of ordinary stone, but of the meteor's own living veins—pulsing gently like tissue from a colossal organism.
At the center of the chamber, several shadowed figures sat in a circle upon thrones carved from the same meteor stone. They had no faces, no fixed forms—only dense silhouettes shifting slowly, as if their bodies were shaped from darkness itself.
A voice echoed first—deep, resonant, and spoken in a language not meant for human tongues.
> "Wiser's life-stone… grows dim."
> "Does that mean he is dead?"
> "Perhaps," another voice replied. "He lingered too long in the human world… playing with his little pets. He forgot what he was."
> "Even if he lived among them, he never became one. He is still Legion… just like us."
A low rumble rolled from one of the shadows.
> "So… what now?"
Every creature turned at once to the figure seated upon the largest throne, positioned at the center of the circle. Its aura was thick and oppressive, swallowing what little light the chamber possessed.
> "Wiser was once the strongest among us," the entity boomed, its voice echoing like a thousand overlapping tones. "But ever since his battle with the Traitor, his strength began to wane."
> "Strange," another voice responded. "His power should have diminished the moment he altered his form to mimic a human."
> "Or perhaps…" whispered another, "he crossed paths with the Traitor again."
Silence fell. Only the slow throb of the meteor's walls accompanied their thoughts.
At last, the central figure rose. The floor trembled beneath its steps.
> "How far has the experiment progressed?"
> "Approximately sixty percent," one shadow answered. "The transformation remains unstable, and the life-stone depletion sits at forty-five percent."
> "Still insufficient."
> "This experiment has gone on for decades," another voice snapped, its tone wavering between anxiety and anger. "How long must we remain hidden here?"
> "You wish to walk the human world in this pathetic state?" the towering figure replied, calm yet cutting. "These bodies are weak—unfit. Only when we master the transformation… when we can take their form without losing our strength… only then will we rightfully rule that world."
> "How much longer must we wait?"
No one answered.
Then the great being spoke again—its voice quiet, but heavy with threat.
> "Send Zerus. Order him to retrieve Wiser. If Wiser has truly fallen, command him to seek out Ares. Let Ares discover the cause of that defeat."
It paused… lowering its head slightly.
> "Perhaps… eighty percent will suffice."
---
Elara let out a long breath as she sank into the chair. Throughout the walk down the Academy corridor, she could feel the weight of every stare—soft whispers trailing behind each of her steps like invisible threads tugging at her.
Now, in the quiet of this room, only her grandfather and the Academy Headmaster remained with her.
"Do you need anything, Elara?" her grandfather asked, his voice gentle but layered with hidden worry.
"No, Grandpa… I only came to say goodbye. I didn't expect it would take this long for us to finally meet," Elara replied softly.
President Albert Hayes regarded his granddaughter with a calm, steady gaze.
"Your father wants to take you to Jarab City."
Elara stiffened slightly. "Yes… how did you know?"
Hayes didn't answer immediately. He pushed his chair forward, leaning in.
"Do you remember when you were six years old, Elara?"
She nodded. "I remember. I came here for an energy test," she said, glancing at the Academy Headmaster standing at the side.
"And the result showed you had no energy at all," Headmaster Sir Severus Trelawney stated in a calm tone.
Elara lowered her gaze. The memory remained vivid—she had been too young to understand many things, but old enough to feel the sting of disappointment.
"Elara… you didn't fail."
Elara snapped her head up, frowning at the Headmaster.
"What do you mean?"
Sir Severus inhaled slowly. "I owe you an apology, Elara. What I did back then—everything was under your grandfather's orders."
Elara turned to her grandfather, confused. "Grandpa? What is this about? I don't understand."
President Albert Hayes looked at her with eyes heavy with emotion.
"Elara… I love you. But at that time, I still couldn't forgive your father."
He paused, his voice trembling.
"I could have taken you away from him… but I couldn't bring myself to. Your mother loved him too deeply. They were happy once."
Tears slipped down his cheeks.
"I made an agreement with your father—he could raise you until you turned seventeen. After that, you were to return to me."
Elara shook her head slowly, her voice quivering.
"But… the energy test? Why was I marked as a failure?"
Sir Severus lowered his voice.
"Because your father wanted to take you outside this world, Elara. If the results showed you possessed energy, you would never have been allowed to leave this city."
Elara froze.
"So… Grandpa knew I had energy all along?"
Hayes nodded. "Of course, Elara. From the very beginning."
Elara stood, running her fingers through her tangled hair as her thoughts spun chaotically.
"Did my father and Grandpa really need to hide all of this from me?"
"Would you have accepted it, Elara… if your father had told you the truth back then?"
Elara shook her head, voice unsteady. "Why couldn't you forgive him? Why did it have to become something like this? Did you think I would willingly leave my father? Never, Grandpa."
"Yes… I know." Hayes exhaled deeply, his voice steadying again. "From the moment that agreement was made, I already knew—one day, I would lose you. Just as I lost your mother."
Elara fixed her gaze sharply on him.
"You never lost me."
Hayes rose slowly, his expression hardening.
"You ask why I couldn't forgive your father? Because I once offered him an important position in this city. But he refused. He chose to leave with your mother—chose to wander, when the world at that time was in chaos!"
His voice rose sharply.
"When they lived in Mostar, I went there myself. I begged him to come home. But he still refused! He would rather become a soldier for The Iron! That is why, Elara… that is why I could never forgive him!"
"Calm yourself, Hayes…" Sir Severus murmured, though Hayes did not respond.
Elara stared at her grandfather's flushed, anger-tightened face.
"If I refuse to stay with you… will you force me?"
Hayes shook his head slowly.
"What would be the point? I once tried to do that to your mother… and now she's gone. If you don't want to stay, that is your right."
Elara fell silent. Without another word, she turned toward the door.
"Elara…" Sir Severus called softly.
"Let her go," Hayes said in a low voice. "Her nature… is just like her mother's."
Though spoken quietly, the words still reached Elara's ears just before the door swung open.
President Albert Hayes and Headmaster Severus Trelawney could only watch her walk away.
"Did you really need to say that, Hayes? Elara is still young… she grew up without a mother's warmth. You should comfort her, not reopen old wounds about the one she lost."
President Hayes sat down heavily, rubbing his temples.
"Comforting a girl like Elara will do nothing, Severus. Every time I look at her… I see her mother."
Sir Severus shook his head slowly.
"That's your fault too, Hayes. You were too hard on Lysandra. You crushed her with expectations… just because you wanted her to be the Academy's strongest student."
Hayes lifted his gaze—sharp, yet weary.
"Is that wrong, Severus? I did it for her own good. The world was never safe—I needed her to be strong enough to protect herself."
"I understand, Hayes," Severus replied gently. "But Lysandra didn't leave because she wanted to. She left because you never accepted the man she loved. You went all the way to Mostar just to beg her to abandon her husband."
Hayes fell silent. His eyes grew distant, lost in a memory—of pleading with his daughter to leave Victor Sergei and bring Elara home. But Lysandra had been stubborn… and in the end—
Sir Severus sighed deeply, watching his old friend.
"At the very least, that man still brought your granddaughter back here. He didn't run farther away. You were still able to watch her grow, Hayes."
Hayes rose slowly from his chair, his voice heavy.
"And now I m
ust watch… as the same mistake repeats itself."
He turned and walked out, leaving Severus alone, watching the footsteps of his old friend fade into silence.
After Elara Queen stepped out of the room, it felt as if the world itself was pressing against her chest.
The Academy's corridors—usually loud with chatter and footsteps—now stretched before her like an endless tunnel. Students whispered as she passed, their eyes tracking her every move, curious, judgmental… yet in Elara's ears, all of it sounded distant, like voices drowned beneath water.
Her grandfather's officers followed closely behind, their footsteps too synchronized… too watchful.
But Elara didn't spare them a single glance.
She just walked—wherever her legs decided to take her.
Then, all at once, the communication devices worn by the officers chimed together.
A command came through.
They stopped immediately—turned around—and left her.
And just like that, Elara found herself alone in the middle of the city.
Around her, towering buildings reflected cascading blue neon, while airships and hovercraft streaked through the sky like flocks of metal birds. The streets were packed with people, yet her mind felt silent, as though her world had been cut off from sound.
Her eyes were empty.
People who didn't move fast enough collided with her shoulders, but Elara never slowed.
It was as if she no longer had a body—only a wandering soul.
In that hollow space, old memories stabbed through her.
The disgusted looks she received when she failed her energy test at age six.
The whispers that haunted her childhood:
"Useless… no future… an empty child…"
And her grandfather's gaze—cold, distant, as if she was not his granddaughter… but a burden.
When she and her father left the city, her grandfather didn't even stand at the doorway to say goodbye.
Not a word.
Not a glance.
Elara grew up with insult as her closest companion.
At school, she was shunned.
Children without energy were treated like a lower caste—unworthy of respect, unworthy of existence.
And when she turned fourteen… the years of pressure, humiliation, and rage finally awakened something inside her.
Energy she never knew she had surged outward for the first time—
like lightning shaking itself awake after a long slumber.
And in that moment…
Her first thought was not pride.
Not relief.
But—
a burning desire to destroy the entire Southern Haven.
And now… that desire returned.
The same instinct she felt at fourteen—
the urge to annihilate this city.
Her grandfather should never have mentioned her mother.
A woman who brought her into this world.
A woman she never got the chance to know…
yet loved all the same.
Elara stopped in the middle of the bustling crowd.
The people around her faltered in confusion, but the world kept moving past her like a blurred shadow.
She lifted her gaze to the sky—
the skyscrapers around her rising like iron walls pressing against her lungs.
She hated this city.
She wanted to crush it until it vanished from the map.
But the urge lodged itself in her throat,
caught by a memory sharper than any trauma.
The eyes of that soldier still haunted her—
begging for death…
empty yet filled with fear.
"There are people in that city, Elara…"
"There are people in that aircraft, Elara…"
"If you do this… you become the monster."
Her father's voice echoed through her mind, tangled with every memory she tried to bury—
until all of it surged at once without mercy.
Her chest felt like it was going to explode.
Pressure.
Rage.
Hurt.
Despair.
All colliding in one point she could no longer contain.
"ARGH!!!"
Her scream split the air, reverberating through the street.
A violent blast of energy erupted from her body—
ripping outward without direction or restraint.
Civilians were thrown off their feet, tumbling across the pavement.
Air vehicles veered off-course, crashing into building walls like toys swept by a storm.
It was only one outburst—
but it destroyed the entire area in an instant.
Before anyone could scream, or even understand what had happened, Elara shot upward into the sky—
leaving behind nothing but a fractured crater where she had stood.