Sector 13 of Goldilocks39 was humanity's vision made physical-an artificial planet designed to recreate the Earth's cycles and waves. Season had long pasts gone by, winds roared through synthetic forests, artificial sun set amidst man-made skies. Beneath this utopian exterior was stark reality, far from flawless. The majority of this artificial world was engulfed in great sprawls of urbanism with the remaining life living cramped within the cities. Sector 13 was notorious even among these cities—an orbiting labyrinth of contradiction where the rich lived in towers while the rest scrambled for their survival in the slums below.
This wasn't unique to Sector 13. Throughout the known universe, every habitable planet that humanity found was inhabited by humanoid civilizations. Over the course of centuries of trade, war, and uneasy alliances, they had all learned to refer to themselves as "human." But beneath this common banner, the chasms were stark, and hybrids like Juniper Green fell through the cracks between power and prejudice.
Now, Jun was running for his life.
His boots pounded against the grime-slick pavement of Sector 13's B District, a shadowy underbelly pulsing with neon lights and perpetual danger. His silvery cloak whipped around him as he vaulted over rusted cargo crates, his heart pounding in time with the guttural growls of the bi-hounds pursuing him. Each bark reverberated through the narrow alleys, a menacing reminder that they were drawing closer. Their glowing red eyes pierced the smog-laden air, tracking him with unerring precision.
"Damn it," Jun cursed under his breath, adjusting the hood that obscured his face. His distinctive eyes—narrow slits converging into glowing circles—were a dead giveaway of his hybrid nature.
The streets here were alive in their own twisted way. The glow of neon advertisements flickered above, with holographic messages promising escapes from hard knocks, indulgences in decadence, or enlightenment—whichever it might promise for whatever cost one is willing to pay. Vendors sold untraceable tech and street-made narcotics while shadowy figures hovered in the corners, exchanging whispers for credits. B District was at once the economy's lifeblood of Sector 13 and its blackened heart. The corporations and military may deny its existence, but their profits thrived upon its illicit trade.
"Get your grip together, Juniper Green," he muttered to himself as he ducked under a low-hanging pipe. His voice was strained, desperate. "This was all a mistake. Maybe. maybe they'll understand?"
But he knew better. There would be no understanding. Not for someone like him.
The mess began with the egg. For five years, Jun had carried it—a strange artifact he'd acquired through a trade that should've gone unnoticed. It was heavy and unremarkable, with no signs of life. He had nearly sold it countless times but never did. Something about it had always stopped him. A whisper of intuition, perhaps.
But three nights ago, the egg hatched.
Jun hadn't even been touching it when it happened. A sudden burst of radiant light filled his dingy hideout, shattering windows and short-circuiting nearby tech. The air shimmered as mana and technology twisted together, creating an explosion of anomalies that rippled through the district. The contents of the egg—a creature unlike anything he'd ever seen—disappeared into the ether, leaving Jun with nothing but chaos in its wake.
Within hours, the Flying Squads descended. These elite enforcers of the military and corporate alliance were after the creature;but they also they wanted Jun who had the connection with the hatched beast. A hybrid without citizenship or protection was an easy scapegoat. And now, thanks to the bi-hounds on his trail, escape seemed impossible.
The growls grew louder and Jun could hear the pounding footsteps of the Flying Squad hunters. Their spells zipped through the air, brilliant streaks of blue and silver light that shattered against walls or exploded into harmless sparks when they missed their mark.
Jun's instincts screamed at him to keep moving. His legs burned with exertion, and his lungs begged for air, but he didn't dare slow down. He rounded a corner sharply, almost losing his balance on the slick ground, and saw something strange—a door, slightly ajar, where no door had been before.
"Too obvious," Jun hissed to himself. His time in the streets had taught him to be wary of anything that seemed too convenient. But the bi-hounds were nearly on him, their hot breath already prickling the back of his neck.
With no other option, he dived through the door just as it swung open fully, a hand yanking him inside with surprising force. As the door clicked shut behind him, a shadow darted out, taking his place. The shadow was pitch black, humanoid, and identical to him in every way save for its color. It sprinted into the alley, luring the hunters away.
Jun blinked, adjusting his eyes to the dim room. A single flickering bulb cast eerie shadows over the cramped space. The air smelled of oil and metal, tinged with something sharper—mana residue, perhaps.
He turned to face the occupants of the room and immediately tensed.
Five figures stood before him, their expressions a mix of curiosity and caution. Three were high humans, their features sharp and perfect, their postures exuding the kind of confidence that came from knowing you were at the top of the hierarchy. They wore military-style uniforms, but the insignias were wrong—no corporate emblems, no Sector 13 crests. Instead, their sleeves bore a black flag, its design stark and haunting: a shadowed silhouette of a human standing beside a beast.
The other two figures were hybrids like Jun. Their faces were varied—-one's was a scale-covered skin with bronze flashing off it, and the other's were stretched finger-longs, with shimmering, bug-like eyes. They eyed him sympathetically but warily.
Jun edged back until his shoulders rammed into the wall, fingers twitching towards the hidden blade in his cloak. "Who are you?" he bellowed. "Why'd you help me?
One of the tall humans stepped forward, a woman with platinum hair pulled into a harsh braid. Her voice was level, but had an undertone of authority. "We're the only ones standing between you and a lifetime of servitude—or worse."
"That doesn't answer my question," Jun shot back, his eyes flicking to the others in the room. "You pulled me in here. Why?"
The woman smirked. "Because you're more important than you realize."
Jun narrowed his eyes. "Important? I'm a street rat being chased for something I didn't even do."
"You're more than that," another voice interjected. This one belonged to one of the hybrids, the bronze-scaled man. His voice was low and gravelly, but there was an undeniable sincerity in it. "That egg you carried—do you have any idea what it was?"
Jun shook his head. "No. And I asked for none of this."
The platinum-haired woman stepped closer, her eyes piercing. "That was no ordinary egg, Juniper Green. That was a relic—a fusion of mana and technology from the old wars. Whatever hatched from it is powerful enough to disrupt the balance of this entire sector. The Flying Squads want it under their control, and they'll destroy anyone who stands in their way.
Jun's stomach twisted. He had suspected the egg was valuable, but not to this extent. "I didn't even see what came out of it," he admitted. "It vanished."
"Then they'll keep hunting you until they find it—or until you're dead," the bronze-scaled hybrid said grimly.
The room fell silent as the weight of the situation settled over them like a suffocating shroud. Jun clenched his fists; his mind racing. He had spent his life surviving, scraping by on instinct and luck. But this. this was bigger than anything he'd faced before.
Finally, the platinum-haired woman spoke up, breaking the silence. "You have a choice, Jun. Run and keep running until they catch you. Or join us.
Jun scowled. "Join you? For what?"
"To fight back," she said flatly. "To show them hybrids, outcasts, and all the people who've been ground beneath their boots can still stand. We're not just rebels. We are the shadow they fear."
She pointed to the flag pinned on her sleeve, its silhouetted shapes inside. "We are the Shadow Banner. And we may be able to help each other."
Jun looked at her, the words echoing in his mind. For the first time in years, he felt something stir within him—something that wasn't fear or desperation.
It was hope.