Space.
A place of literally endless wonders.
It doesn't matter where one is, one will always have the ability to look up and gaze at the stars of the night sky.
To wonder if one will ever one day reach the stars.
Miles was one of those lucky enough to reach the stars.
And what he discovered was that the 'space beyond' was not as 'wondrous' as he originally thought.
In the middle of an irradiated wasteland, a fierce battle was taking place.
Behind the cover of his 'portable shield,' Miles was able to ignore the constant enemy fire and instead kept all of his attention on one of his comrades.
One of his comrades that was currently dying.
"Come on! Come on! Stick with me!"
As the sounds of explosions and fighting continued on in the background, Miles was fervently attempting to keep his comrade alive and conscious.
He already gave him stim-packs but for 'that' sort of injury, stim-packs won't be enough to save him.
"Just stick with me! The medics will be arriving shortly!"
When his comrade heard Miles's pleas, he only gave a short chuckle before he responded.
"I know you... love me... but this is a bit over the top don't you think?"
After Miles's comrade said that, he went to chuckle only to cough up blood instead, staining his previously pristine white exo-suit in the process.
Seeing, this Miles couldn't help but grit his teeth together in what he felt to be a mix of joy, fear, sadness and anger as he replied to his comrade.
"Come on Clayton! This isn't the time to be joking around! This is serious!"
"But this is the perfect time to be joking around. If you aren't going to do your job properly, why should I?"
Clayton spoke as if his pair of missing legs and the large hole which pierced both his exo-suit and chest were none existent. Although missing legs could be easily 'remedied' by a pair of prosthetic cybernetic legs, one still had to remain alive for the procedure to succeed.
There was no point in giving a pair of legs to a dead body after all.
And judging from Clayton's current state, he probably won't even last another hour.
Despite his cybernetic enhancements, there was nothing one can do about a punctured vital organ in the midst of battle. Especially in an irradiated wasteland like this one.
If anything, the cybernetics which kept Clayton 'alive' were more likely to be prolonging his pain rather than actually saving him.
With whatever was left of his strength, Clayton placed his hands on Miles's shoulder.
"Listen, I'm not the one that matters here. You know how important your role is. If you let me slow you down now, then what is the point of being here in the first place?"
Although Miles knew that Clayton was correct, he just couldn't accept it.
Miles knew the risks of the mission, and Clayton knew them as well.
It's just that he did not really account for how he would feel once things truly turned south.
And it would seem that Clayton noticed these emotions swirling within Miles as well.
With a weak voice, Clayton firmly urged Miles to leave him.
"Please, if you really cared about me, then you would leave me. The medics will pick me up and I will see you when this is over. That much I can promise."
Although Clayton spoke with sincerity and confidence in his voice, all Miles had to do was look deep into Clayton's eyes to see the truth.
Clayton was lying.
Clayton knew he was going to die and so did Miles.
And with that in mind, Miles opened up his mouth in an attempt to respond.
"But-"
"Miles you know that he's right."
Just before Miles could refute Clayton, he was instead interrupted by a voice originating in his head. Or more specifically, the communication chip that was imbedded into his head that allowed for instantaneous communication on a limited scale.
That 'voice' in his head actually belonged to Alessia, another one of Miles's comrades and a member of his team, the 'Nova Squadron;' an elite team of B+class psionics which existed to deal with only the gravest threats to the United Planets of America.
While gritting his teeth together, Miles spoke both to Clayton and Alessia at the same time.
"But I can't just leave him here in the middle of nowhere to die!"
However, the response he got from both of them was just heartbreaking as everything that Clayton said before.
"But that's exactly what you're going to have to do."
Soon after Clayton and Alessia gave Miles their response, the former proceeded to point his finger in the direction behind Miles before speaking up.
"Either way, the enemy doesn't give a fuck about you or your feelings or what you 'can't' or 'can' do. Look."
When Miles heard this, he immediately turned around only to notice that the sounds of fighting has completely disappeared.
Both from his side and the enemy's.
Although he knew it was a risk, Miles recalled the portable cover back into his arm only to find that the 'battle' has paused entirely.
As if there was never a battle in the first place.
The silhouettes of the enemy's forces appeared to remain passive and docile, as if they were waiting for something.
And when Miles took a glance at his allies; the 'United Planet's Military,' they similarly appeared to remain passive and docile. There was no doubt that either they were ordered to cease fire from command or they were completely awestruck but some amazing sight.
And it didn't take long for Miles to realise what this 'amazing sight' was.
Bordering near the horizon he saw it.
A large bolt of continuous bright green lightning that seemed to originate not from the clouds of the sky but from the grounds of the wasteland instead.
That green lightning was characteristic of one psionic and one psionic only.
Cynthia; the first True Synth.
The first real, functioning 'True Synth' since the original 'Synth genocide' and subsequent prohibition of the creation of Synths thousands of years ago.
However, to people like Miles, Cynthia was known with another moniker.
'The Harbinger of Doom.'
"Shit, Alessia are you seeing this?"
"You think I don't? I'm coming over."
Within moments, Alessia appeared in the sky before landing by Miles's side, her white exo-suit was scrapped and scratched while a small trail of blood leaked from her mouth. The fact that she retracted her exo-helmet into her suit to reveal her long golden-blonde hair told Miles that her helmet was probably damaged during the battle.
When Miles opened his mouth to speak to her, he was instead interrupted by her slightly irritated voice.
"For your information, I'm actually fine by the way. Just focus on the bigger picture."
Alessia was right, Miles had to focus on the bigger picture.
But just because he had to didn't mean that he necessarily liked it.
"I'm going to be honest with you... When I heard that I'm going to need to use 'that' against Cynthia I was actually hoping that Cynthia was nowhere near this damned planet."
When Alessia heard what Miles had to say, she only sighed sombrely before she turned to him and replied.
"Out of everyone, it just had to be you that was gifted with your type of psionic power."
Miles's type of 'psionic power' in particular being the power to siphon the psionic energy of other psionics whom he touches, enhancing his own latent psionic power for a short time period in the process.
However, psionic energy was comparable to the 'soul' of a person and siphoning psionic energy would often end with harmful side effects to the victim depending on how much psionic energy was siphoned.
And for a threat like Cynthia, the government of the United Planets of America came to the conclusion that Miles would need to siphon all of the psionic energy of a B-class psionic.
A B-class psionic like Alessia.
However, siphoning all the energy of a psionic will only lead to one fate.
Death.
In other words, Alessia would have to essentially sacrifice herself.
Although, Miles argued and pleaded with his superiors, trying to come up with working alternatives such as siphoning the energy from multiple C and D-class psionics, he was able to convince no one.
In the end, he was forced to concede to this solution.
There was simply no time for an alternative.
Although his eyes were becoming dewy, Miles was able to keep the tears from falling out.
While he knew that he should be acting as quickly as possible, his raw emotions just did not allow him to do so.
With those dewy eyes, Miles kept his mouth pressed together and instead sent a transmission to Alessia's head.
"Forgive me..."
Alessia only shrugged casually when she responded to Miles. As if what he was going to do was 'no big deal.'
"Apology accepted."
Like Miles, Alessia also kept her mouth shut as she instead chose to reply with transmissions. And just like Miles, her eyes were dewy too.
"Now do your damn job already. I have a feeling that we don't have anymore time."
Although the green lightning didn't seem to be moving, there was no way that Miles could take risks.
He had to end this.
He had to end this now.
With a heavy heart, Miles slowly grasped Alessia's head with his hands.
With no time to waste, he began the siphoning process.
The moment he started, Alessia's eyes widened as she gasped in pain, her face frozen in a permanent fixture of agony.
The veins in Miles's hands and fingers started to glow a light pale blue as he siphoned Alessia' psionic energy and soon, her skin started to turn paler and paler while her eyes were turning glassy.
Within moments, Alessia stopped gasping altogether before she fell backwards onto the floor limp.
She was dead.
But Miles had no time to mourn.
With the power of two B-class psionics within him, Miles began to gather all the psionic energy into his hands while at the same time, aiming his hands at the source of the green lightning.
Soon, a dim ball of blue light formed itself in his hands.
This was the ultimate technique taught to psionics like him.
Condensed light.
Light strong enough to obliterate anything and everything in its path.
In an instant, Miles released that light, which quickly turned into a blinding light show that dwarfed Miles in size and awed all those who were present.
Miles felt his muscles strain as he struggled to keep that light directed towards the enemy.
The light itself was so huge that it obscured almost everything in Miles's sight.
However, that light disappeared just as quickly as it appeared.
Having exhausted all of his psionic energy, Miles's hands immediately fell limp by his side as he somehow managed to mutter to himself over his heavy breaths.
"Is... is it over? Did I win?"
When looking into the distance, the silhouettes of the enemy has disappeared and the green lightning was nowhere to be seen.
That could only mean one thing.
Miles just won.
Although it cost him everything, in return, he saved everything else as well.
And that was something that Miles can rest happily with.
Just before he could properly celebrate however, a sudden voice came up behind him.
A calm, soothing voice that sounded as if it belonged to a young healthy woman.
"A commendable effort... However, you forgot one very important crucial detail."
"Guagh!"
Before Miles could even react to the sudden voice, he felt a sudden pain in his chest.
When he glanced down at the source of the pain, his eyes widened in both shock and disbelief.
He saw his own bloody heart, which lay in the grasps of an equally bloody metallic hand that protruded through his chest.
As Miles felt blood clog up his throat, the voice behind him once again spoke up.
This time, 'she' spoke in a much less friendly manner.
"The flesh is weak."