Keon, still seated on the ground, mid-rest, suddenly froze. His violet eyes widened as a distant humming sound cut through the morning air. His head snapped toward the sky, and in an instant, he was on his feet, pointing dramatically.
"WHAT'S THAT?!" he shouted, his voice filled with exaggerated alarm, his entire body leaning forward like a kid discovering something insane for the first time.
Stella, who had just started to relax, closed her eyes and sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Keon… sit down." Her voice carried the exhausted, scolding tone of an older sister dealing with a hyperactive little brother.
But Keon didn't move. His finger remained locked in place, eyes fixed on the horizon. The low, rumbling hum was growing louder—whatever it was, it was getting closer.
As the distant humming grew louder, Stella's initial reaction was irritation—ready to scold Keon for another one of his antics. But then, she caught the look in his eyes. He wasn't joking this time.
Her sharp blue eyes shifted toward the horizon, scanning the sky. The sound wasn't just noise—it was rhythmic, controlled. It wasn't random. It was approaching.
Her expression changed. The exhaustion in her features faded, replaced with quiet understanding. Her muscles, once tense, loosened as she exhaled slowly.
Keon, still pointing like an excited child, glanced at her. "You hear it too, right?"
Stella didn't immediately respond. Instead, she adjusted her posture, wiping the blood from her cheek with the back of her gloved hand. Then, with a calm, knowing tone, she murmured, "Reinforcements."
The long night was finally over.
The dark spacecraft descended steadily, its size imposing but not overwhelming. A deep, mechanical hum filled the air as its landing thrusters kicked up dust and debris. Keon's eyes widened in awe, momentarily forgetting the exhaustion of the long night.
Stella stood up, her expression shifting from wary to composed as the ramp lowered. A squad of troops stepped out first, clad in sleek, lightweight armor similar to Stella's, but with full-face masks that obscured their identities. Their movements were disciplined, methodical.
Then, heavier footsteps followed.
A towering figure emerged, clad in reinforced armor far bulkier than the others. His plating was thick, layered with a dark matte finish, and faint energy lines pulsed along the edges. His helmet, unlike the smooth designs of his comrades, was angular and battle-worn—no visor, no expression, just a cold, unyielding presence.
Unlike the standard-armed troops, he carried something far more dangerous:
A high-caliber gauss rifle, its barrel humming with stored kinetic energy, capable of tearing through solid walls. Strapped to his back was a power blade, its sheath pulsing with a contained, violet glow.
Keon, still processing the sight, muttered under his breath, "…Okay, that's kinda cool."
As the troops arrived, they immediately began communicating with Stella in a coded language—brief, efficient exchanges of ID numbers, squad designations, and mission status updates—a dialect seemingly meant only for them. Their voices carried the weight of discipline and protocol, making it clear that these were no ordinary soldiers.
Keon stood on edge, feeling the intensity of their presence. Some of the masked troops turned their weapons toward him, their visors scanning his form as they repeated a question in the same coded language. Though Keon couldn't understand them, the sharpness in their tone made their intent clear: Identify yourself.
Stella, her stance tense, raised a hand in protest. "Stand down—he's not hostile!" she urged, stepping slightly between Keon and the soldiers. But hesitation flickered in their response, and their weapons remained trained on him.
A surge of unease shot through Keon. His instincts screamed that this was not a situation he could afford to stay passive in. Before he even realized it, his power activated—his hand flicked toward one of the troops, and in an instant, their rifle was yanked into his Rift Barrier. The soldier barely had time to react before their weapon disappeared into the void.
The shift in atmosphere was immediate. The first elite troop, clad in imposing black armor with glowing red veins of energy, took a step forward. His T-shaped visor gleamed menacingly, and the hum of his armor grew louder. His body language spoke volumes—he wasn't approaching to negotiate. He was about to strike.
Keon tensed, prepared to either defend himself or bolt—when suddenly, another figure intervened.
The second elite troop stepped in swiftly, raising a hand in a firm gesture of command. His dark metallic armor gleamed under the dim light, etched with silver markings that pulsed with faint blue energy. His helmet, more refined than the first, bore an insignia glowing faintly on the visor. The contrast between them was stark—where the first elite exuded brute force and hostility, this one radiated controlled authority.
The tension in the air was thick, a silent standoff between power and restraint. The first elite troop hesitated, his hand twitching toward his weapon. But the second elite's stance was unwavering, his blue-lit visor locking onto his counterpart in a silent command:
Stand down.
For a moment, Keon wasn't sure if the first elite would comply. But then, with a slow exhale, the red-lit soldier stepped back. The hostility lingered, but the immediate threat had been diffused.
Keon let out a quiet breath, still standing rigid. His gaze flicked to Stella, who looked between him and the troops with conflicted eyes. The second elite finally spoke, his voice smooth yet firm.
"Explain."
Stella took a deep breath, stepping between Keon and the elite soldiers. Her expression remained firm, but there was a clear urgency in her voice as she began to explain.
"This kid—Keon—is just seventeen. He's not a threat. His Espria got out of control when he was young, and somehow, he ended up here. He barely even remembers anything about his past—only his first name."
She glanced at Keon, then back at the troops. "I was alone after my team… after they were wiped out by a horde of high-ranked Beasts. I barely escaped and ended up in the abandoned town. That's where I met him."
She hesitated for a moment, then added, "Keon helped me survive. If it weren't for him, I wouldn't be standing here."
The tension in the air remained thick as the two elite soldiers exchanged glances. The purple-visored soldier's energy blade hummed faintly, still active, while the blue-visored one stood with his arms crossed, the weight of his hammer evident on his back.
Keon, standing there, didn't bother correcting her story. He simply watched, waiting to see how they would react.
Stella straightened her posture, addressing the elite soldier with the dark techno hammer.
"Sir, Keon isn't a rogue Espria citizen or a criminal. He's a lost citizen," she stated firmly, her voice carrying both conviction and urgency.
Meanwhile, Keon stood still, but inside, his thoughts were a whirlwind.
Well… I am a criminal.
He glanced at the soldiers, then at Stella, who was practically vouching for him with her life.
The real owner of this body was one. Does that make me a criminal too?
A strange mix of amusement and unease settled in his mind as he waited to see how they would respond.