Garrick guided Jyan towards one of Forgrenn's renown street-side eateries—a bustling, fragrant nexus of culinary traditions where the sizzling of pan-fried dzuki cakes mingled with the sweet aroma of candied zelberries. It was a well-earned respite after the pandemonium they had experienced.
"Ahh, the best eatery in Degran city! You'll love it here."
"Ew this place looks nasty."
"Silence, brat. Less talk, and more eat."
They settled into a nook under the neon-lit awning, with a clear view of a holoscreen broadcasting FORG News - The Heliosynfh Channel, the go-to network for current events in the Heliosynth solar system.
"Ah, just in time," Garrick muttered through a grin, raising his voice to be heard over the chatter of locals and the clatter of utensils on plasteel plates. "Looks like they're starting the afternoon galaxy bulletin."
Jyan kept eating, watching the screen, thinking, 'Bet their gonna talk aboht that hero, aren't they? Everyone's been talking about it everywhere. He's a living legend already, I wonder all the time if I can make a name for myself like he did. I guess I did already? But not in a positive way. It super strong and fast for absolutely no reason, and people talk about it when they're around me. But I'm only known for starting stuff.'
On the holoscreen, two polished anchors appeared, the male presenting in a crisp suit that shimmered with micro-light fibers, displaying shifting patterns that mirrored the nebulas for which their sector was named. The female anchor wore a sleek gown that seamlessly changed hue to match the tone of each story she relayed—a visual symphony of information.
"Good cycle, Forgrenn and dear viewers across Heliosynfh," the male anchor began, his voice a familiar cadence of formality and warmth. "Our headline today is one of triumph and celebration as we welcome back the hero of our time."
The holoscreen's image dissolved into a montage of heroism; battle-scarred ships, nebulae aflame with the fires of conflict, and a solitary figure at the vanguard—Kanoan. His armor reflected the cosmos, etched with the scars of his victories, and his eyes shining with the steely resolve synonymous with the saviors of Heliosynfh. He had flowing white hair, and golden eyes, with pointy ears.
"The Valiant Kanoan," the female anchor continued, her gown shifting into a deep, victorious blue, "has returned from the outer reaches of our star cluster where he engaged the forces threatening our harmony. His bravery against the constellation's onslaught has once more secured peace for our solar neighborhood."
The montage led to visuals of glistening ships forming a cavalcade through space, leaving trails of stardust that spelled out 'Thank You, Kanoan' in the array of planetary languages—a mosaic of gratitude.
"And with great jubilation," the male anchor cut back in, "Forgrenn is scheduled to hold a parade in honor of Kanoan's bravery and unwavering service. The 'Parade of Stars' will wend its way through our capital's Celestial Boulevard leading to the Hall of Harmony where Kanoan himself will address the republic."
"To think, a parade here!" Garrick exclaimed, taking a hearty bite from his dzuki cake. "This place is gonna be swarmed with more security drones than a Gorphian royal hive. Yuna and the Sector patrols really gonna be watching."
Jyan chuckled. "Guess that means we gotta get front-row seats to the hero's welcome, huh? Awesome.."
Garrick nodded, winking with a mischievous air that mimicked Jyan's own. "Who knows, maybe you'll pick up a strategy or two to refine that 'delicate' touch of yours."
"HA! Delicate."
As they continued to fuel up on their well-deserved meal, the news broadcast shifted toward stories of new trade routes opening within the Heliosynth system, the rehabilitation of moons ravaged by the conflict, and the latest in quantum drive technology promising to shrink the vast distances between worlds.
Forgrenn, a cultural nexus within Heliosynfh, bustled with life beneath the glow of their sun, Solarflare, its solar system a microcosm of unity and diversity. Today, the planet would be seen as more than just a crossroads of commerce and exchange, but as a home to those who shaped the stars with their valor—like Kanoan—and those who found heroism amidst its streets—like Jyan.
As Jyan and Garrick continued to savor the myriad flavors of their lunch—the tangy kick of zelberry juice complementing the hearty dzuki cakes—the news cycle progressed, the anchors smoothly transitioning to other noteworthy stories within the Heliosynth system.
"And now for an update from our neighboring planet, Verrund," the female anchor announced, the hue of her gown shifting to a soft green, synonymous with the verdant landscapes of Verrundia.
The holoscreen displayed an image of Verrund's iconic floating gardens, verdantly sprawling across the planet's lower stratosphere where they hovered serenely above the more densely urbanized areas.
Garrick leaned back in his seat, nodding toward the screen. "Those gardens feed half the system. Innovation and nature in one breath, eh?"
"Verrundia's agricultural engineers have successfully introduced a new strain of sky wheat that adapts to both low-gravity conditions and the increased solar radiation we've been noticing in recent cycles—truly a testament to Heliosynth ingenuity."
"Indeed," the female continued, her expression reflecting her pride in a system-wide achievement. "In other news, our scientific community is abuzz with the breakthroughs coming from Selaphi's oceanic labs. They've managed to harness the power dynamics of deep-sea currents, paving the way for new renewable energy sources."
The holoscreen now displayed the azure depths of Selaphi, marine structures elegantly designed like coral clusters, working in sync with the powerful movements of the ocean—a piece of futuristic artwork made real through the lens of marine technology.
Jyan whistled softly. "Bet that kind of power could run a fleet of star-hoppers without so much as a hiccup."
"And you'd win that bet," Garrick mused, already visualizing the applications of such tech on a starship. "The whole system's moving towards a cleaner grid—takes guts and brains. Something our thief from earlier could use a dose of."
Amused by Garrick's quip, Jyan polished off his plate and directed his attention back to the screen.
"In sports news," the anchors moved on, "the Heliosynth Hoverball League is expecting an electrifying season with the Emberblades of Pyronia introducing their latest star player—born from the planet's volcanic training academies, she's as fierce as the flames they play among."
The screen lit up with images of hoverball players, suspended above a field of pulsating energies, maneuvering around columns of flame and bouts of simulated lava eruptions—a sport both thrilling to watch and demanding to play.
"Gotta love the Emberblades," Jyan grinned, "always bringing the heat. I wanna join them."
"You can if you just GO to the tryouts. They could definitely use someone like you."
"You think so?"
"You're an abnormal brat. Of course they would let you in. And you have a knack for that sport, I know you and your friends often compete
Garrick chuckled at the pun, raising his glass in a silent toast to the display of athleticism and bravado.
As the news cycle continued, weaving stories of art, culture, technological advancement, and societal milestones, the citizens of Forgrenn reveled in the intimate realization that despite the vastness of the cosmos and the individual peculiarities of each planet in the Heliosynth system, they shared a common thread of pioneering spirit and a united front against the dark void beyond.
"These are our stories for today," the anchors concluded in unison, the female's gown now displaying a pattern of connected stars—each representing a tale from the Heliosynth news cycle. "We are all part of this stellar narrative, building a future where every planet, every individual, has a role to play."
The holoscreen dimmed, and the anchors disappeared, leaving behind an invigorated sense of community among the eatery's patrons.
Jyan turned to Garrick, a thoughtful look across his face. "You ever think about our place in all this? What legacy we'll leave behind?"
"Every time I see that screen light up," Garrick replied, his eyes reflecting the myriad stories they'd just immersed themselves in. "We're making history, kid—one punch at a time, it seems. That all depends on what you want to leave behind when you die."
"I..I don't know. I don't know what I really wanna do?"
"Racing? Hoverball? Professionally."
"Maybe. Either being the greatest of all time in those categories. Or becoming a professional fighter!"
"Noooo no no! No fighting! You know you could really kill someone, you know that right? I know you were holding back that punch against that thief."
"Of course I was holding, I'm not a KILLER."
"Haha, I'm toying with ya. Listen, whatever happens, just remember that you only got yourself in this world. Your sister Yuna, me, we're always there for ya', but we don't control your actions or thoughts, so whatever you do from here on out, think wisely."
"You say that all the time. And I'll try."
Garrick put Jyan in a headlock, "And you say that all the time, damn brat!"
"Let me go! Oaf!"
Garrick stood, stretched, and glanced over at Jyan, an older-brotherly concern etching his rugged features. "I've got things to handle, Jyan. Try not to find trouble while I'm not looking, okay?"
"Where are you going? Just gonna abandon me?"
"You know I run a business of fixing up peoples rides, this was just a little break for me. A break I needed."
"Ahhh. Alright. Go ahead. I won't be sad or anything."
"Don't get into shit."
Jyan smirked and flicked a final zelberry into his mouth. "When have I ever?" he joked, knowing full well the answer was more often than not.
Garrick shook his head with a laugh and walked off, leaving Jyan to wander towards the nearby field known for its impromptu hoverball games. The field was a patchwork of repurposed landing pads and recycled metal panels, fitted with makeshift goals and surrounded by a motley crowd of onlookers. Jyan's friends were already there, gearing up for another high-energy game.
He had just gotten a text from his friend Ajin, a boy with silver colored hair, dark blue eyes, and a scarf around his neck.
"Ajin!" Jyan called out, spotting the cool-headed strategist who was double-checking the field's magnetic coils. Ajin looked up and gave a slow nod. His demeanor was always an anchor for the team.
"Thought you got snagged by the Iron Sentries with Garrick," Ajin commented with a quiet chuckle.
"I got out of it, luckily a thief was nearby and I sent him to oblivion."
"Did he die?"
"Nope. He attacked me first so I-."
"You were glad he did, weren't you?"
"The adrenaline pumping, the action, of course I did!"
Next to barrel into the group was Braxx, strutting forward like a frigate about to take on an armada. "Outta the way! Future hoverball champ coming through!" he roared, his tattoos seemingly flexing with him. No one dared argue—Braxx would run them down if they tried. He grabbed a man out there by the shirt, and threatened, "So were playing for 800 credits? Take it or leave it."
"I-I."
"Bet it! Now! Or we ain't playing!"
"Fine! Fine!"
Braxx looked after at Jyan, saying, "Oi, Jyan, use your super punch to knock these guys out. You know I only play for the money we can yerk out of these guys."
"Braxx."
"What?"
"What is yerk?"
"I made it up. It means yank, don't question it, now threaten them-."
The other team said, "Okay! Okay! We'll bet 800 credits!"
"Haha! That's more like it, dammit!"
Braxx had wavy red hair in an undercut fade hairstyle, he had black and red rose tattoos all over his body, he had dark orange eyes, and had grey birthmark on his face and all over his rigtht arm, he also wore a black earring in both ears.
Seven drifted in silently, her gear meshing with her form, a living shadow in the cacophony around them. She carried a presence that subdued the ambient chaos. Jyan's heart skipped, but as always, he shoved the fluttering down deep.
"Hey, Seven," he mumbled, a meek wave accompanying his greeting; she only nodded, the faintest trace of acknowledgment, her attention already dissecting the field.
Seven had long black braided hair with two buns on top, dark red eyes, and a silk green headband on her forehead.
Jyan thought, 'I've had a crush on her for a long time, we've been around each other so much, I don't even know if she even likes me as a friend, she barely talks to me. She barely talks to anyone though. She's always been quiet, even when guys at school propose to her every single day; her good looks are unmatched, her entire family line were models and actors.'
Lastly, Jugg bounded towards them, his unstoppable enthusiasm knocking into Jyan's shoulder. "You ready to kick ass, Jyan?" Jugg beamed, with the wide, infectious grin of one who lived for the rush of the game.
"Always am," Jyan fired back, his spark returning.
'Jugg. He's just like me, craving for a rush of adrenaline. Some blood pumping action would keep us up for days. But the difference between me and him, is that he is obsessed with actual victory, and also causing havoc.'
Jugg was stacked up with muscle, had spiky aqua colored hair, robotic like blue eyes, and was 6 feet tall.
Their ragtag team assembled just in time to face their opponents—kids from another district who thought they had what it took to challenge the champs of the streets.
"Okay, we're betting 800 credits, yeah?"
Braxx replied, "Damn right! And don't punk out either!"
The game started with the release of the hoverball—a sphere of contained plasma, floating as it was kicked off into the field. Jyan squared off at the front, Ajin behind him to direct, Seven to his left, the quiet storm ready to explode. Braxx took the right flank with the bulk to shield and shove, while Jugg held the rear, ever-vigilant.
The other team made the first move, sending the ball arcing high. Jyan watched Ajin, whose eyes followed the trajectory with calm precision, his leg extending and angling for the rebound.
A whir of movement, Seven darted like a wraith intercepting the pass, her boot connecting and sending the ball into a spiral that hummed through the air.
"Heads up, Braxx." she projected just loud enough for their team, the ball cannoning towards the tattooed wall.
Eyes from the crowd followed the fast-paced exchange, spectators leaning in, the murmur of awe threading through the gasps. "Did you see that pass?" one spectator whispered to another. "Like a silent storm, she is."
Braxx, with surprising agility for his size, barreled the ball down the field, brushing off attempts to snag it from him with the ease of an elder dismissing infants. "Come on, you runts—Braxx is bringing the fucking boom!" His voice boomed over the field, earning a mixture of cheers and playful jeers from the onlookers.
Jugg prepped, muscles tensing like coiled springs. As Braxx drew the defense, the tattooed giant lobbed the ball vertically. Jugg launched into action, using the magnetic field to vault himself up. "Sky high, baby!" he shouted, as his foot met the ball at the apex of his leap, slamming it downward in a blinding streak.
A collective shout rang from the crowd.
Yet, the opponents were nimble, their keeper leaping and just grazing the ball, diverting it from its death dive towards the goal.
"Oooooh!" the spectators groaned in admiring frustration. "What a save!"
The keeper's touch sent the ball towards the sidelines, right towards Jyan. With a burst of speed, he intercepted it, weaving through the approaching defenders with a dancer's grace, his eyes flicking to the goal.
Seven moved as though she was part of the shadows itself, sliding into position for the assist. She caught Jyan's quick pass and pulled a feint that fooled two defenders, creating just enough space.
"Jyan, up." she hissed, her voice cutting through the field's din.
Jyan, sprinting up to meet her pass, was already airborne, fueled by the magnetic pulses under the surface of the field. The spectators leaned forward, their voices building to a frenzied pitch.
"Damn look at him go! That brat is literally flying.."
With the ball coming at him like a comet, Jyan timed it perfectly. He executed a bicycle kick—a move seldom seen out of professional arenas—sending the ball hurtling back at the goal with a fierce velocity.
The opposing keeper, who had just pulled off the miraculous save, had only a fraction of a second to respond. The ball, however, was a bolt of lightning, ricocheting off the inside post and into the net. The field erupted in a cacophony of sound, spectators and players alike in awe of the precision and athleticism.
"Yes! By the moons of Forgrenn, what skill!"
Ajin maintained his calm composure but allowed a rare smile to dance on his lips at the execution of their play. Braxx was already hollering his triumph, thumping Jyan on the back with a force that would have winded a lesser person.
"Jyan, you beast! That's how we do it! NOW I'M GONNA NEED MY CREDITS!"
Seven simply nodded at Jyan, a ripple of approval in her gaze, enough to send Jyan's spirits even higher than his leap.
Jyan blushed and thought, 'She nodded at me..'
Ajin comforted him, "Get yourself together."
As the game resumed, the opposing team pushed harder, fuelled by the spectacular play they just witnessed. The crowd was in it now, their collective energy feeding the players.
New kids watching from the sidelines couldn't help but marvel. "Did you see that kick? That's Jyan; he's like a legend around here!"
"I heard he once played three games back-to-back and scored the winning goal in each!"
The game carried on, a fierce battle of attrition, each team vying for control. Jugg, with boundless stamina, never stopped moving, always there to back up his team or go for a bold play. Braxx used his strength to protect and serve; Seven, her inscrutable focus to disrupt and create; Ajin, his strategic mind to command and conquer; and Jyan, with his raw talent and heart to inspire and achieve.
As the sun began to dip low, casting long shadows over the field, the score was tight, but Jyan's team held the advantage. The breathless excitement of the crowd never waned, riding the crescendo of each play, relishing the spectacle before them.
"Never seen a game like this before," a spectator sighed, almost dreamily. "It's more than a match—it's a dance, a battle, a work of art."
Aboard the sleek skyship, Yuna peered through the crystalline viewport, her eyes tracing constellations that, to the untrained, were just random freckles on the sky's vast canvas. The stars held secrets, and among those celestial formations, the enigma of Kanoan's arrival weighed heavily on her mind.
Beside her, Captain Narris stood at the helm, his uniform impeccable, badges of rank catching the ambient light. His fingers danced over the holo-controls, adjusting their course ever so slightly. The Sector Patrol would soon play host to the approaching hero, and uncertainty hung like a dense fog around them.
Harris had slick brown hair, thin black glasses, and green eyes with a scar on his cheek.
"Captain, have we confirmed Kanoan's trajectory?" Yuna asked, her voice betraying the blend of curiosity and concern that accompanied such a mysterious figure's advent.
Narris nodded, his gaze fixed on the readouts. "Affirmative, Yuna. Our star mappers have logged his vector, but how he maneuvers through these shipping lanes without so much as disturbing a micro-sensor is... unsettling."
The crew members around them were lost in their duties, some tapping away at complex navigation algorithms, others calibrating sensor arrays to get a clearer picture of the incoming vessel.
A young navigator turned from his console, a look of barely contained excitement marking his youthful features. "It's like he navigates by the constellations alone, charting courses that even our A.I. can't predict."
The science officer chimed in from her station, the glare of her screen lighting up the lenses of her glasses. "It's more than just skill. There're theories—gravity slingshots, dark matter drafts, even quasi-temporal folds." A wistful sigh escaped her lips. "Imagine the breakthroughs if we could study his methods!"
Yuna pondered their words while tracing a finger along the constellation maps glowing on her tablet. Each star was a waypoint; each cluster, a story. "The Ancients believed heroes like Kanoan bore the essence of the constellations themselves," she mused. "Perhaps there's more to that old lore. Maybe he's attuned to space-time in ways our science hasn't grasped yet."
Captain Narris interjected, a note of gravitas entering his voice. "Speculation aside, protocol demands we understand Kanoan's abilities. He may have come with something new."
Across the bridge, a tense technician adjusted her headset, listening closely to the chatter of comms and beacons, hoping to catch a whisper of Kanoan's ghostlike approach. Meanwhile, the engineer fiddled with the engine's power coupling, multitasking between his practical concerns and the conversation spiraling around Kanoan.
"He's like a ghost in the nebulae," the technician murmured.
Yuna exchanged a look with Captain Narris, the apprehension clear between them. "We'll need to arrange an audience swiftly, Captain. Clarity dispels fear, and right now, our people need that more than ever."
Narris gave a decisive nod, his voice firm. "I'll send word to the Council."
The ship's thrum settled into a determined hum, and the crew's energy focused with renewed purpose. The Sector Patrol would soon stand face-to-face with the hero of the stars, and in that monumental meeting, they would seek to unravel the mysteries that bound Kanoan to the constellations—a quest for understanding that could reshape their grasp of the cosmos itself.
Yuna was walking forward out of the room, thinking, 'Ready to go home. I hope Jyan isn't doing anything that'll get him killed.'
"Captain!"
"Captain Narris!"
"It's Kanoan!"
Yuna gasped and she turned around to see Narris ask a worker, "What's going on?"
They showed him a screen, and it showed Kanoan floating in the middle of the planet, grinning.
Narris said, "Was he not on his spacecraft..?"
Yuna added, "How did he.."
All over the planet, every screen showed surveillance of Kanoan in the air. People in bars, at home, at a party, in the shower, at eateries, at malls, or walking on the streets stopped what they were doing just to see a screen near them.
"That's the hero Kanoan!"
"He's back already?!"
"What about the parade they were gonna have?!"
"He looks better than ever! Like he was kissed by the power of light!"
Jyan and his backyard hover all team were sitting in the grass, drinking water as they had just finished talking, and they looked at their phones.
Jyan commented, "Shit. He's here already? Wasn't there supposed to be a parade or something?"
Braxx answered, "I thought so too. I was gonna use you to threaten people so I could take their cash."
Jyan scoffed, "Can you STOP ACTING LIKE WERE CRIMINALS?!"
"Excuse me for wanting to be rich!"
Ajin said, "It's odd that this is happening."
Jugg responded to Ajin, "Oh yeah? How so?"
"It's out of nowhere. That's why. It's strange."
Seven said nothing.
Jyan thought, 'It is weird that he just popped up out of the blue all creepy and stuff. Seems like he has something to say. But I'm getting a weird feeling..where's Uncle Garrick? Or Yuna? I feel like I'm need to get to them..'
Radiating a presence that hushed the world around him, Kanoan stood tall and began his address, his voice washing over the people of Forgrenn in a cascade of benevolent authority:
"People of Forgrenn, children of the cosmos whose breath fills the sails of destiny, hear my words. Today marks not the juxtaposition of past and future, but the weaving of legacy through the loom of hope. We are but solitary stars in an infinite expanse, and yet, when we stand as one, we transform into constellations that chart the course of history itself.The fabric of bravery is woven by those who dare to look into the abyss and see not an enemy but an ally in the quest for understanding. Bravery does not shout its presence with pomp and pretense—it whispers in the quiet decide of a heart that refuses to embrace the darkness. Heroes are not the idols of old, cast in bronze and stone; they are the everyday souls who choose to act with courage when silence would be easier. Let us speak, then, of strength. It is a concept often misunderstood, a term misrepresented by those who have never felt the quake of fear or the burden of doubt. True strength is the gentle yet unyieldable grasp of a mother's hand, the steadfast gaze of the guardian who watches through the night, and the unwavering resolve of the peacemaker who walks into the storm armed with nothing but words of reconciliation."
He continued, "And let us not forget the defense of our beliefs—for within this defense lies the very essence of our spirit. A conviction unchallenged is a flame untested; it cannot know its true strength until it faces the wind. To defend is not to attack those who wander other paths but to illuminate the reasons we have chosen our own. Beliefs are the compasses by which we navigate the tumultuous seas of life, and defending them does not require the brandishing of swords—it asks for the sharing of insights, the kindling of understanding, and the willingness to listen. In the mosaic of existence, every piece has its place, every shade its purpose, every contour its story. When we defend our beliefs with wisdom and extend our understanding towards others, we create a masterpiece that resonates with the harmony of diversity. So now, I stand before you, a voyager of the vast and beautiful unknown, and I say to you: Be brave, for your courage inspires the stars themselves. Be strong, for your strength upholds the heavens. Defend what you believe in, for those beliefs forge the very armor that protects the soul. Remember, you are the heirs to an ancient legacy and the forgers of a destiny that reaches beyond the horizon. Together, we can become the constellation that guides the wayward, that signifies hope, and that reminds us all that within our hearts burns the undying light of a billion suns.
A hush fell over the crowd as Kanoan's speech concluded, each word like a shooting star, burning bright and leaving a trail of light that the people of Forgrenn would not soon forget.
Across the varied landscapes of Forgrenn, where forests whispered and cities pulsed with life, a collective sense of wonderment hung in the air as Kanoan's speech resonated with the people. From the wide-eyed children perched on their parents' shoulders to the grizzled veterans of forgotten wars, murmurs of approval cascaded through the crowds.
"That was a fine speech," remarked a shopkeeper, her hands paused in their perennial motion of trade.
"Aye, a voice like that makes ya think we can do better, be better," agreed a nearby blacksmith, his arms crossed and his expression thoughtful.
In the fields beyond the city, farmers stopped their work, looking toward the sky as light began to flicker and portals opened like blossoms of the dawn. "What wonder is this?" one of them exclaimed, a hopeful glint in his eyes.
Children laughed and pointed, and the adults shared their enthusiasm, remembering the tales of old where light brought blessings from beyond the stars.
But as the portals expanded, the light twisted into the form of golden swords that fell like rain upon the planet. Instead of the gifts they imagined, terror reigned as massive destruction unfurled across Forgrenn.
They were slaughtering people, and a few giant glowing swords from the sky massacred half the people who were near Jyan on the field.
Jyan froze, his eyes went dull, and he yelled, "R-Run!" He and his friends ran, and giant glowing sword landed in the middle of them, splitting them all away from each other, being launched far away.
Jyan crashed through multiple buildings, yelling, "AGHHHH!"
'What's going on?! Whys he doing this?! Garrick..Yuna…Seven..Braxx…Jugg..Ajin…please don't die! Why is this happening?!! What did we do wrong?! Isn't he supposed to be the hero? A hero I looked up to?! I thought I could see my own future through him, but why..why do I feel like it's my fault for believing in someone to is two-faced?! I gotta survive!'
Screams and cries rang out, as the bodies of people were pierced or exploded in chaos, it was tragic. Countless lifeless bodies sprayed into the atmosphere, and Kanoa continued to let his power rain down with an emotionless expression on his face.
The falling swords spared no quarter, indiscriminately laying waste to buildings and scattering the once hopeful crowds. Jyan gritted his teeth as his heart pounded, and he vowed to find his loved ones amidst the terror.
As the chaos swirled, Kanoan's voice once again pierced the air, but now it carried a different weight—a chilling blend of regret and inevitability.
Jyan was sitting up, blood dripping from his face, head, and entire body, covered in dust and dirt. He was surrounded by bodies and wounded people trying to stand or run.
He coughed, "Run..r-run.."
THWACK!
Jyan was hit in the back of the head by a soldier of Kanoan's.
This soldier, One side of his face was obscured by a metal mask, a macabre half-helmet that held a singular mechanical eye glowing with an ominous crimson light. The lens whirred and adjusted with heartless calculation, designed to instill panic at a glance. It blazed like the very soul of a machine god, casting a blood-red hue over the battlefield's destruction. Contrastingly, the other half of his face was exposed, revealing a human visage twisted by the horrors of endless war. Part of his skin was pale, almost ashen, marred by streaks of black and crimson warpaint which contoured his anguished features into a grotesque war visage. The human eye was piercing, the sclera stained with streaks of red, reminiscent of the countless battles he'd endured—a window to a soul that reveled in chaos. Cybernetic augmentations snaked across his human skin like perverse vines, blurring the line between flesh and machine. Metallic conduits and wires burrowed into his skull, cheek, and neck, integrating with muscle and bone in a horrific symbiosis. The sinew of his neck was clad in segments of alloy, flexing with a chilling inhumanity each time he turned his gaze. His armament was varied and lethal—a heavy rotary cannon attached to his right arm, its barrel scarred and weathered, but no less deadly; a forearm-mounted blade on the left, shimmering with a toxic iridescence that hinted at some vile enhancement. He had the name written on him, 7N Dreadnaught.
He was with hundreds of other soldiers out there, and they were saying:
"Take the wounded, put them in the prisons. They're weak."
"Clean the streets fast! As Kanoan commanded!"
Jyan's vision was fading, saying, "Yu..na…"
Kanoan, smiling, said, "People of Forgrenn, please, heed my words amidst this horror," Kanoan's tone was somber, and it cut through the cacophony of destruction. "This was never the path I wished to tread upon this established world, a place I have come to revere since first I set eyes upon its bounteous beauty. I stand before you, not as a harbinger of death but as a soldier of a greater purpose that even I find myself grappling to comprehend. I am heralded as a hero, a protector of this planet, a sentinel of the starry veils that envelop your reality. Yet the universe is a complex tapestry, woven with threads of power and dominion that stretch beyond the comprehension of mortal beings. It is a vast, unyielding force, and sometimes, to keep the greater weave intact, individual threads must unravel. And now, me and my subordinates shall rule this planet in our vision, how we see fit."