"You've got some nerve," the robber growled. "You cost me everything, you know that? That job was supposed to set us up good. But no—now my partner's locked up, the cops are crawling all over the place, and I've got nothing."
Elias slowly raised his hands, his muscles taut as he measured the man's stance. "Listen, I don't know what you think you're going to get out of this, but—"
"Money," the man interrupted, his voice harsh. "Whatever you've got, hand it over. Right now."
Elias narrowed his eyes. "Do I look like I'm swimming in cash? I'm living paycheck to paycheck over here."
The robber sneered. "Doesn't matter. You're gonna pay me back one way or another, pretty boy." He stepped closer, his finger twitching on the trigger. "Besides, how the hell are you even alive? I saw you go down—stabbed, shot—no one walks away from that. But here you are, sitting pretty. Almost makes me think you've got something special I can use."
Elias swallowed hard, his eyes darting to the revolver and then back to the robber's face. "Look, I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just as surprised as you are. Maybe it was dumb luck, okay?"
The robber scoffed, taking another step forward. "Luck, huh? Yeah, right. You've got something worth more than luck, and I want it."
Elias's pulse pounded in his ears as the man's free hand shot out, gripping his shoulder roughly. His thumb pressed into the still-healing wound, sending a jolt of pain through Elias's chest. He grimaced, his mind scrambling for a way out.
"Don't touch me," Elias said, his voice sharper than he expected.
The robber grinned, clearly enjoying the reaction. "Oh, what's the matter? That sting a little?"
The pressure on his shoulder tightened, and something inside Elias snapped. Acting on instinct, he swung his arm up and slapped the gun hand away just as the robber's finger squeezed the trigger.
Bang.
The shot rang out, grazing Elias's cheek and sending a hot sting across his skin. The pain lit up his senses, but adrenaline drowned out the fear as he shoved his weight into the robber, sending them both stumbling.
The revolver clattered to the floor, spinning once before landing out of reach. Elias scrambled to his feet, his movements clumsy but driven by desperation. The robber lunged after him, but Elias kicked out wildly, his foot connecting with the man's shin. The robber yelped, falling to one knee as he clutched his leg.
Breathing hard, Elias backed up toward the wall, his hands trembling. "Stay down," he warned, though the shake in his voice betrayed his nerves.
The robber, still crouched, spat on the floor. "You think that's enough to stop me? I'm not done with you."
Before either of them could make another move, the sound of sirens blared outside. The sharp wail grew louder, and within seconds, the unmistakable red and blue glow of PCA cruisers filled the room. Heavy boots pounded against the hallway floor, and the front door burst open with a thunderous crack.
"PCA! Don't move!" a voice bellowed.
The robber froze, his eyes darting to the revolver on the floor, but it was too late. Two PCA officers stormed in, their stun batons crackling with energy. The first officer moved swiftly, delivering a sharp blow to the robber's wrist as he reached for the gun. The man yelped in pain, collapsing to the floor as the baton came down again, pinning him in place. The second officer scanned the room, their visor glinting under the overhead light, before their gaze locked onto Elias.
"You'll be coming with us as well," the officer said, their tone brisk and unyielding.
Elias's chest tightened as the officer stepped forward, pulling a pair of cuffs from their belt. "Wait—what? I didn't do anything!" he protested, raising his hands.
The officer didn't flinch, grabbing his wrist and snapping the cuffs into place with practiced precision. "You're part of the scene, and protocol requires all involved parties to be questioned."
Elias stumbled forward, his arm gripped tightly by the PCA officer. "You could just ask your questions here, you know," he said, irritation heavy in his voice. The officer ignored him, steering him toward the waiting transport vehicle parked under the artificial streetlights. Its bulky, reinforced frame loomed like a hulking beast against the quiet night.
"Get in," the officer ordered curtly, motioning to the open compartment.
Elias shot him a glare but complied, stepping onto the platform and sitting down. The metal door slid shut behind him with a resonant clang, enclosing him in darkness.
The creature perched on his shoulder broke the silence. "Why don't you just punch him? It'd be way more exciting."
Elias sighed, leaning back against the cold wall. "Not a great idea," he muttered. "After the alien attacks, the military stepped in and got things under control. It was a huge shift—helped a lot of people, sure, but it also… well, let's just say things started to change politically—" He stopped himself, shaking his head. "Anyway, long story short, they've got the power."
Elias paused as his surroundings lit up faintly, the source unmistakable. "Wait—you're glowing?"
The creature tilted its head, antennae twitching as it hovered slightly off his shoulder. "Kind of. But only you can see it."
Elias leaned forward, studying the light with a mix of curiosity and surprise. "Huh. That's… actually kind of useful," he said.
Before the creature could respond, a monitor on the wall buzzed to life. The static settled, revealing the stern face of an older man in military attire. His sharp gaze lingered as a woman leaned down to whisper something in his ear before walking out of frame.
"Good evening, Elias Kael. It's a pleasure to meet you," the man on the screen greeted with a calm, steady voice.
Elias leaned forward, frustration edging his tone. "I mean no disrespect, sir, but what is all of this? Why am I being interrogated for getting robbed?"
"Robbed?" The man raised an eyebrow, his tone laced with mild surprise. "Is that how they brought you in? No matter. It's my understanding that you've come into contact with a shard, correct?"
"This again?" Elias muttered, shaking his head. He straightened up, his voice firmer now. "With all due respect, sir, I have no idea about any shard. I'm just trying to live my life without worrying about things like this. I saw a woman getting mugged, tried to help, and ended up getting shot for my trouble. I woke up in the hospital, and frankly, I've had enough close calls to last a lifetime."
The man nodded slightly, a faint, almost knowing smile crossing his face. "That's quite a story, Kael. You know, I've heard a similar one before. Your father, Dorian, always had that same sense of justice about him. Got himself a scar protecting me once."
Elias blinked, the mention of his father catching him off guard. He coughed slightly, his voice quieter now. "You… knew my father?"
"Yes," the man replied, his voice softening as though recalling a memory. "I was in charge of his training long before you came into the picture. You could even call me 'Uncle Geras.'" He paused, his expression turning serious. "But that's beside the point. Whether you want to accept it or not, we have undeniable proof that the shard came into contact with you, just like many others."
Elias frowned, leaning back. "And? What does that mean for me?"
"The Commander Ward Divisions of the military," Geras explained, "are being deployed worldwide to locate and collect anyone who has come into contact with the shards before anything… unpredictable happens. This is unprecedented, Elias, and quite frankly, it could destabilize the world if left unchecked."
Elias's expression hardened as he crossed his arms. "Forgive me, but… what exactly are these Commander Ward Divisions again?"
"Of course," Geras began, his tone firm yet measured. "The CWD is a coalition of Warden Commanders, each overseeing large divisions assigned to various missions across different countries. They've been preparing for the inevitable—when the aliens return. And we're certain they will. The initial attack cost us an entire continent. The next could be worse."
"That's… understandable," Elias replied, his voice cautious. "But what does that have to do with me?"
Geras leaned back slightly, studying Elias through the screen. "You wanted to join the military once, didn't you? I believe I reviewed your file a few times."
Elias nodded, his expression tightening. "Yes. It was right after my eighteenth birthday. I wanted to follow in my father's footsteps, but it wasn't the path for me. I failed and moved on with my life."
"That's right," Geras said with a faint smile. "You failed the maneuver tests. Was it the height? If I recall correctly, the report mentioned you later refused an assignment with the medical ward team and were discharged under…" He paused for a moment, choosing his words carefully. "... under compassionate grounds."
"More or less," Elias muttered, his tone clipped.