The sky was bleeding.
Earth was scarred beyond recognition.
Towering spires of alien architecture, once symbols of the Holy Empire's dominion over Earth, flickered in eerie blue flames. Explosions rippled across the megacity's skyline, sending shards of crystalline steel and plasteel tumbling like falling stars. The air was thick with the scent of burning ozone, the ground quaking as the heavens waged war.
Humanity was already broken long ago, enslaved under the rule of the Hearos, the self-proclaimed divine masters of the galaxy. Their empire had not simply conquered Earth, it had rewritten the very definition of life for mankind and taken over the Planet. Gone were the illusions of freedom. Every human, from the lowliest laborer to the highest scientist, bore the mark of their servitude for generations: a neural compliance chip embedded deep within the brainstem.
The Hearos were no fools. They had seen the untamed brilliance of humanity's creativity, its relentless ingenuity, and used it for their own. They knew that true innovation could not be forged in the minds of shackled drones. So they allowed free will, but only within the confines of their rule. A single act of disobedience, and the compliance chip would detonate, reducing the rebellious to nothing more than a burst of red mist.
And yet, even in chains, humanity still found ways to fight.
Elias sprinted through the wreckage of Orbital Platform Xyphos, his Exo-Vanguard armor flickering with the last remnants of its plasma shielding. Every footstep sent metallic debris clattering in the weightless environment, his breathing harsh over the radio feed. The station had been lost.
"Command, do you read?" Elias barked into his comms.
Static.
No surprise. The enemy had taken control of the relay towers.
Through the jagged holes in the station's hull, he could see the battle raging in the void. Swarms of Avyrian warships, their sleek obsidian hulls gleaming like onyx, descended upon the remnants of the Hearos fleet in elegant, sweeping formations. The Avyrian, the Harbingers of the Crimson Sky, were the only species to have ever challenged the divine might of the Dominion and survived.
They were not mere warriors. They were butchers.
Elias had seen the aftermath of their assaults. Planets rendered into charred husks, populations left flayed and displayed as grotesque warnings. And now, they had come for Earth.
The Hearos, in their arrogance, had underestimated the Avyrian's ruthlessness. The Dominion's doctrine of absolute control did not account for an enemy that did not seek to rule, but to annihilate.
Humanity was caught in between.
If the Avyrians won, there would be no liberation. No uprising. Only extinction.
And so, despite all logic, despite their hatred for the Hearos, Elias and his kind fought. Not for their masters. But for the chance to exist at all.
Elias reached the final airlock leading to Generator Core B, his HUD flashing with urgent red alerts. The station's central singularity reactor was destabilizing. If it went critical, it wouldn't just take out the orbital platform, it would tear a hole in space-time large enough to drag Earth's entire exosphere into oblivion.
His mission was clear: contain the core breach, or die trying.
A metallic shriek echoed through the corridor.
Elias spun around just in time to see the Avyrian Shadow Guard emerge from the ruptured bulkhead.
Avyrians were unlike any lifeform humanity had ever encountered. Avian, but not frail, standing nearly nine feet tall, their obsidian-black feathers rippled with an almost metallic sheen. Their piercing four-lensed crimson eyes pulsed with eerie luminescence, tracking movement with terrifying precision.
This was no ordinary squad.
This was an execution team.
Their leader, a towering Avyrian clad in razor-lined combat mesh, stepped forward. His taloned fingers gripped an arc-spear, the weapon humming with crackling red energy.
"You fight for your masters, human?" the Avyrian's voice resonated through the station's dying comms translator, layered with an unnatural distortion.
Elias leveled his plasma rifle, his armor compensating for the failing gravity. He would not kneel.
"I fight for survival."
The Avyrian tilted his head. "Then you have already lost."
And then they attacked.
Elias moved on instinct. His plasma rifle barked, sending superheated bolts toward the Avyrian squad. The lead warrior deflected them with impossible speed, his arc-spear cutting through the air in elegant, deliberate strokes.
Too fast. Too precise.
A second Avyrian lunged, metallic talons slicing through Elias' left shoulder plate. His nerve endings screamed, but he forced himself to stay in the fight. Twisting, he activated his gravitic disruptor, sending a pulse of kinetic energy outward. The Avyrians staggered, only for a split second.
It was all he needed.
Elias surged forward, drawing his mono-blade, a weapon designed to cut on an atomic level. He sliced through the nearest Avyrian's throat, black ichor spraying in weightless beads. The warrior spasmed, a gurgling screech escaping from his beak before his body went limp.
One down. Three to go.
But Elias had already lost too much blood.
A taloned foot caught him in the chest, sending him hurtling against the wall. His visor cracked, his vision swimming. Red warning lights flickered across his HUD—his suit was compromised.
He barely had time to react before the Avyrian commander drove his arc-spear straight through his abdomen.
Pain unlike anything he had ever known consumed him.
His body convulsed as his internal organs liquefied from the raw energy discharge. His vision darkened, his limbs growing heavy.
Dying.
He was dying.
The Avyrian commander leaned in close, his four eyes glowing with something akin to pity.
"A shame," the warrior murmured. "Your kind could have been mighty."
With his last ounce of strength, Elias did the only thing left to him.
He activated the singularity core's manual override.
A faint smile tugged at his bloodied lips as the warning klaxons screamed.
If he was going to die… then he was taking them with him.
The explosion tore through Orbital Platform Xyphos, the shockwave visible from Earth's surface.
For a brief moment, the Avyrian fleet halted, watching as the station collapsed into a miniature black hole, swallowing everything within its grasp.
Including Elias.
His consciousness fragmented, pain, darkness, cold, then came the nothingness to feast again.
But suddenly, a spark.
A voice, ancient and unknown, spoke into the Void.
"AAAAAAAAGAIN"
[REINCARNATION PROTOCOL: HOSTS SOUL LOCATED, PROMETHEUS SYSTEM INITIATING]
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