"What lies behind you and lies in front of you, pales in comparison to what lies inside of you."
-Ralph Waldo Emerson
The midst of fall has passed, and the sun now shines brightly over the Village of Rikuzentakata.
Six million years ago, the meteor that extinguished the dinosaurs did not simply strike Earth-it shattered.
Fragments of its otherworldly core scattered across Japan, embedding themselves in mountains, rivers, and forgotten forests. These shards pulsed with a silent, alien resonance, humming a song only certain souls could hear.
And so, the disappearances began. Across centuries, across cultures, people vanished without a trace-children chasing fireflies, scholars mid-sentence, warriors sheathing their blades. No bodies. No farewells. Just... gone. Legends whisper that these chosen ones ascended. Not to heaven. Not to hell. But to Rox.
Tekka Ishuna stretched her arms overhead, her luscious white hair catching the afternoon sun like fresh snowfall. A gentle yawn escaped her lips-lazy, unhurried.
"Seriously?"
She flicked a stray lock from her face, shooting Mika a sidelong glance.
"That old myth about magical stars? You still believe in that fairy tale?"
Mika Inori practically glowed under the afternoon sun, her short blond hair catching the light like spun gold. Every step she took was precise, her pristine navy-blue coat-tailored to perfection-fluttering just enough to reveal the Inori family crest stitched in silver thread. Unlike Tekka's lazy stroll, Mika moved with the grace of someone who'd been trained to command attention.
"It's not just a myth,"
Mika corrected, voice measured.
"Historical records mention disappearances. Even the shrine elders—"
Tekka groaned, rolling her vibrant green emerald eyes.
"Ugh, spare me the 'ancient wisdom' lecture. Next you'll say the meteor gave us superpowers."
A breeze rustled the golden barley fields flanking the path, carrying the scent of damp earth and distant hearth smoke.
Somewhere beyond the village, the mountains stood silent-watching. Mika's lips twitched.
"Would that really be so bad?"
Tekka grinned.
"Maybe, if I get to pick."
"From generation to generation,"
she began, chin lifted with pride,
"the Inori clan's sacred duty has been to find one of those stars."
The wind tousled her short blond hair, but nothing could break her focus.
"They say each star is a fragment of a different world-realms beyond our universe, fallen all the way to Earth."
Her fingers tightened around the report, knuckles whitening with passion.
"And we will be the ones to claim one."
Tekka stared at her, one eyebrow arched.
"So let me get this straight-your whole bloodline's been chasing space pebbles for, what, a thousand years?"
Mika's gaze didn't waver.
"Six hundred and forty-two, actually and they're not pebbles."
Somewhere above them, a single cloud drifted across the sun, casting the path in momentary shadow. The village bells tolled in the distance, their echoes fading into the mountains' silence. Tekka sighed, but her smirk was fond.
"You're impossible, you know that?"
Mika's answering smile was all triumph.
"And yet, here you are. Listening."
Tekka's voice dripped with world-weary amusement, her violet eyes half-lidded as she kicked a pebble down the path.
"I get where you're coming from, Mika-chan. But there's more to life than chasing fairy tales."
Mika's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. With a deliberate, practiced motion, she slid her precious report back into her leather satchel-too carefully for someone who wasn't irritated. A sigh escaped her lips, part frustration, part resignation.
"Yeah. I get it."
Her tone was light, but the way her fingers lingered on the bag's clasp betrayed her. Then, with forced cheer.
"Anyhow, have you heard?"
The shift was abrupt—a tactical retreat. The breeze carried the scent of blooming yuzu from the village square, mingling with the distant iron tang of the blacksmith's forge.Tekka eyed her, smirk widening.
"Heard what? That you're finally giving up on your family's wild goose chase?"
Mika's laugh was too quick, too bright.
"In your dreams, Ishuna."
Mika's voice lifted with giddy urgency, her earlier annoyance forgotten.
"There's been talk all over the internet—tonight's meteor shower is supposed to be insane."
She pulled out her phone, thrusting the screen toward Tekka. A livestream headline blared. She pulled out her phone, thrusting the screen toward Tekka.
[Once-in-a-Decade Cosmic Event!]
"Astrologists say there'll be a super-rare meteor mixed in."
Mika continued, her sea-blue eyes sparkling.
"The kind that only shows up every ten years!"
A pause. She tucked a stray blond strand behind her ear, suddenly feigning nonchalance.
"So, y'know… if you don't have plans after school…"
The unspoken "Come with me?" hung in the air, wrapped in the scent of sun-warmed grass and the distant chatter of their classmates.
Tekka tilted her head, her white hair catching the light like moonlit silk.
Mika's words faded into white noise. Tekka's gaze had snagged on something— someone-far behind her friend. There, at the edge of the sunlit greenery fields, stood a figure that didn't belong. Tall. Pink-haired. A blue uniform stitched with too many stars, their emblems glinting like polished coins.
But it was the woman's eyes that froze Tekka's breath-Amazonian lake-blue, clear enough to drown in. Their eyes met. A split second. A silent challenge.
Then—
Gone
No rustle of grass. No shimmer of light. Just empty air where she'd stood.
"—Tekka? Hello?"
Mika snapped her fingers in front of her face.
"Did you even hear me?"
Tekka blinked. The fields lay undisturbed, the wind humming through the barley.
Mika blinked rapidly, scanning the horizon like a confused owl. The fields stretched out, barley swaying in lazy waves, utterly empty of pink-haired anomalies.
"You might want to cut back on those late-night gaming sessions, Tekka-chan,"
she quipped, nudging her friend with an elbow. she quipped, nudging her friend with an elbow.
"Your sleep-deprived brain's conjuring NPCs now"
Tekka's eye twitched. Tekka's eye twitched.
"I don't game THAT much..."
"Could've fooled me,"
Mika cut in, grinning.
"That time you called a real crow a 'respawn point'—"
"—That was one time—"
Mika, oblivious, checked her watch.
"8 PM. Don't bail on me."
Tekka exhaled through her nose.
"Yeah, yeah."
But as they walked away, she stole one last glance over her shoulder. The fields were still empty. Yet for a heartbeat, the shadow of the barley stalks didn't quite match the sunlight.
The school halls buzzed around them—lockers slamming, gossip ricocheting, the occasional yelp of someone tripping over untied shoelaces.
"Few more months, and boom—adulthood,"
Tekka muttered, kicking a crumpled soda can. It hit a locker with a clang that sounded suspiciously like a funeral bell.
"Nine-to-five drudgery. Microwave dinners. Existential dread as a lifestyle."
Mika adjusted her bag strap, unfazed.
"Speak for yourself. Some of us are evolving beyond convenience-store onigiri."
"Right, right. Your grand plan—galavanting after space rocks like some kinda cosmic raccoon."
"Celestial archivist,"
Mika sniffed.
Tekka's mind flickered to her favorite manga—specifically, that one where a guy got stabbed and reincarnated as an overpowered slime. Rimuru Tempest had it made: kingdom-building, epic battles, a literal demon lord for a bestie. Meanwhile, her future promised Excel spreadsheets and pretending to like her boss's kombucha.
Tekka groaned.
"I'd take a isekai stab wound at this point."
Mika side-eyed her.
"You're thinking of "That time I got reincarnated as a slime" again don't you?"
"You'd panic, trip over your own sword, and get adopted as Rimuru's problematic pet human."
"Joke's on you—I'd thrive as a mascot. Free tempura, zero responsibilities."
The bell rang. Students surged forward like lemmings in uniform. For a split second, the fluorescent lights stuttered—casting the hall in long, warping shadows. One near Tekka's feet rippled, almost… slime-like. Then reality snapped back.
"Ugh. Fine."
She shoved off the wall.
"See you at nerd hill, future-stargazer."
Tekka Ishuna didn't just top her class—she redefined the curve. Ninety-percent averages. Flawless test scores. A permanent slouch in the back row, where she alternated between napping, snacking on dubiously acquired convenience-store taiyaki, and demolishing mobile games with one thumb. Her teachers had long since surrendered.
Mr. Fujisawa (Quantum physics, chronically undercaffeinated)
"Ishuna, are you even—?"
Tekka (mid-yawn) "Yes, the answer's 4.2 light-years. Can I go back to sleep now?"
The faculty's collective sigh was practically a school anthem. But here was the secret: Tekka's indifference wasn't laziness—it was a weapon.
While classmates stress-crammed, she observed. While they panicked over formulas, she absorbed concepts like sunlight, dissecting logic puzzles for fun.
Her notebooks? Pristine. Not from diligence, but because she never needed to review.
"School's never been my problem,"
Tekka mumbled into her folded arms, her voice muffled against the desk's scratched surface.
"Grandma cranked out homeschool drills like a military academy. Books stacked to the ceiling. Pop quizzes with breakfast. She forced me in so many martial arts clubs that I mastered in a two weeks. There is no grandmother like her on the world, it's because of her I'm like this."
A yawn cracked her jaw.
"Result's? Straight A's without trying. Could teach this class if I cared."
She flicked a dismissive hand at the whiteboard, where Mr. Fujisawa was already droning about quadratics equations.
"But I don't."
Her eyelids slid shut laying her head down on her desk as her usual spot. Last night's gaming marathon flickered behind them—pixelated coins glittering, constellations of stars collected in her favorite RPG. A far better use of time than pretending to care about x-intercepts.
The teacher's voice dissolved into white noise. Around her, pens scratched paper like ants marching to war. Tekka's breathing evened out. Just before sleep took her, one final thought floated up.
If adulthood is just more pointless hoops to jump through… maybe I'll let the meteor take me after all…
…
The world snapped silent—no rustling papers, no squeaking chairs, not even the hum of fluorescent lights. Transitioning to just void-black stillness, thick as velvet.
It coiled around her like smoke, equal parts whisper and command. Tekka stirred, her limbs heavy yet strangely weightless. Her white hair fanned around her face, adrift in the darkness like bioluminescent seaweed in some deep, unseen current.
A pale blue glow pulsed from nowhere and everywhere—not light, but the idea of light. It painted her skin in watery hues, revealing motes of dust (or were they stars?) suspended around her.
A voice (but not voice)
(not words but the shape of meaning)
(—rise—)
Tekka…
(floating in the negative space between thoughts)
(her body: a chalk outline erased by the dark)
(—is this a dream?—)
(—am i losing my sanity?—)
the void exhales. blue light (not light) (not blue) a vibration that paints her bones she tries to scream (but her mouth and state is a theory) tries to move (but motion is a myth here)
The voice
(—chosen—)
(—door—)
(—soon—)
the stars in her skin ignite.
(—falling—)
(—but there is no down—)
(—only the unraveling—)
The voice
(not voice) (a pressure between ribs)
(—you are more—)
Tekka…
(—What is happening!?—)
(—in a sentence I didn't write—)
(—in a sentence I didn't spoke—)
(—in a sentence I didn't recognise—)
The light
(not light) (a hunger)
(—see—)
(—you hold luck—)
(—you swallowing the sun—)
(—you unmaking the word can't—)
(—you stand where there is no space to stand—)
Her hands
(not hands) (a breaking of darkness)
(—i am small—)
(—i am endless—)
The voice
(a wound)
(—hero is a verb—)
(—begin—)
The world
(—Too great to be called a world—)
(—now—)
A sharp symbolic star shape confronted her on the back of her hand(not hand), imprinting itself on her like a tattoo as then the light enveloped her, shining bright with a brilliance she couldn't even begin to comprehend. The light dissolved, leaving Tekka sprawled across a sea of golden grass that shimmered like spilled honey under the sun. The field rolled in gentle waves toward a distant village, its thatched roofs peeking over a hill like shy children. But something was… different.
The grass glowed faintly at the tips, as if dusted with crushed topaz. Flowers the size of teacups dotted the landscape—their petals shifting colors from peach to violet with each breeze, like living stained glass and the airscent—warm bread, wild mint, and something electric, like the moment before lightning strikes. Tekka groaned, clutching her throbbing head.
"Ugh. Did I get hit by a truck or a rainbow?"
Her voice startled a flock of tiny, winged creatures (birds? Butterflies? Both?) from the grass.
They scattered into the sky, their wings chiming like wind chimes made of crystal. Beyond them, the village beckoned. Smoke curled from chimneys. A wooden windmill turned lazily and high above it all—Two suns, One gold, One silver.
Tekka's stomach dropped.Tekka's stomach dropped.
"Okay. Definitely not Japan anymore."
"So… she's finally arrived..."
The voice purred from the shadows of a gnarled obsidian tower, its edges carved with leering gargoyle faces. His voice echoed through the sterile hum of his orbital command center, its walls lined with pulsing data streams and holographic battle maps. Before him, a translucent drone feed hovered, displaying Tekka's dazed form in the meadow below—4K clarity, real-time biometrics scrolling beside her face.
Heart rate: Elevated. Adrenaline levels: Rising. Anomaly detected: Right wrist (stellar-class energy signature).
Elric smirked, tapping a gloved finger against his chin. The drone's camera zoomed in—catching the exact moment Tekka noticed the winged horrors above her.
"Show status…"
The screen changed to an profile, revealing all sorts information about Tekka. (Name: Tekka Ishuna, Age: 18, Birthday: March 17th 2007, length: 5ft11, Weight: 78kg Cupsize: H, IQ: 148, Kardashev scale: 0.8)
"0.8?"
"That's the first time the star chose a host from such a barbaric society."
He scrolls down, several information about Tekka specifically appear all on his screen.
"There's not much special about her besides the star and-"
Suddenly his eyes open wide landing on something that almost dropped his heart.
"Impossible…"
He stood up trying to comprehend what he is reading.
Between the information it speaks about her physical stats. (Power level: 120 "is capable of wrestling an elephant." Speed: 30km/h "at her own pace" Combat: Judo "master level", Chinese Kenpo "master level", Taekwondo "master level", Kick Boxing "master level" Aikido "master level" Laido "master level" Wrestling "master level" Potential: Aboslute Skills: "Tekka holds the power of absolute adaptability, adapting anything unconsciously, because of this she was capable of learning so many martial arts styles, her growth of intelligence and knowledge, her strength and speed being abnormal compared to her own society. Her limitless growth causes her to be stronger the more she learns.")
"Absolute Potential!?"
"Are my eyes projecting illusion??" "From such an barbaric society!?!"
"No… of course…"
He sat back down again letting the information sink into his brain.
"How… quaint,"
he mused, watching her freeze.
His lieutenant—a cyborg with optic-lens eyes—cleared his throat.
"Orders, my Lord?"
Elric leaned back in his floating throne, its edges crackling with suppressed violet energy.
"Deploy an Unit,"
he said, flicking the hologram toward a 3D terrain model. Red dots bloomed across the map—drones, armored scouts, and worse things stirring in the forest's edge.
"But remember—"
His smile sharpened.
"I want her intact. That vessel is worth more than this entire backwater realm."
The drone feed glitched suddenly—just for a frame—as Tekka's star-scar flared white. Elric's smirk vanished.
"But Lord Elric… she's just a girl."
Elric's smile didn't waver as he raised a spyglass—it's lens cracked with old blood. Through it, Tekka's confused squint filled the frame.
"Oh, my dear fool," he murmured. "That's exactly why she's dangerous. Bring her to me. Alive."
Somewhere in the meadow, the grass hissedwhere it met the boots of advancing soldiers.
The village wasn't just lively—it was a collision of eras and realms. Tekka gaped as she wove through the crowd.
A dwarven blacksmith in a neon-orange happi coat hammered a glowing blade, his beard braided with copper wires that sparked with each strike.
A felinoid merchant—golden eyes slitted against the twin suns—haggled over spices, her tail flicking as she tapped a holographic price display hovering above her stall.
A group of elfin children in retro 90s windbreakers darted past, their laughter harmonizing with the chimes of floating magitech lanterns.
The air smelled of sizzling yakitori, alien herbs, and ozone from the occasional passing hover-cart.
"What is this place?"
Tekka muttered. A voice answered from her left.
"New Verge. Where the lost things wash up."
She turned to find a towering wolf-like humanoid leaning against a noodle stall. His red leather jacket was patched with both embroidered clan sigils and a faded 'NASA' logo.
He slurped his ramen, unfazed by her stare. Sitting on a chair by a ramen shop.
"You've got that fresh look. Need a guide?"
Tekka's wrist itched. The star-tattoo on her back hand once—a silent warning.
"Depends,"
she said slowly.
"You gonna sell my kidneys?"
The wolf-man barked a laugh.
"Kid, around here? Your soul's the hot commodity."
The wolf-man straightened, his frost-tipped furcatching the lantern light as he extended a paw. Claws glinted, but his grip was carefully measured—just shy of crushing.
"Ludwig von Asterix,"
he said, his voice a gravel-and-velvet rumble.
"At your service, little star."
Tekka eyed his embroidered waistcoat (who wore velvet in a place like this?) but shook his hand.
"Tekka Ishuna and I'm nobody's star."
Ludwig's muzzle split into a grin, sharp canines on full display.
"Oh, that tattoo on the back of your hand begs to differ."
She yanked her hand back. "Creep."
"Realist," he corrected, tapping his nose.
"Festive. Like a firework dipped in stardust."
Before she could retort, he tossed her a brass token stamped with a howling wolf.
"Show that at the Salty Howl. Free meal, no poison, Probably."
Tekka flipped the token. The other side read:
[Property of the Asterix Pack - Trespassers Eaten.]
"…Charming."
Ludwig winked. "We aim to disarm."
He got up, he was a few inches taller than Tekka looking down on her.
"Come with me, I'll show you around."
The tour began deceptively pleasant. Ludwig, true to his word, was a surprisingly knowledgeable guide. He led Tekka through the vibrant, chaotic tapestry of New Verge's market district with the ease of a local king.
"That one's selling 'dragon eggs',"
he muttered, nodding toward a vendor with a cart full of glowing, rock-like objects.
"They're just chicken eggs soaked in glow-worm slime. Gives you the runs and a green tongue."
He bought her a stick of sizzling meat from a reputable-looking ogre cook, paid for with strange, iridescent coins. The meat tasted like pepper and lightning. For a fleeting moment, the absurdity of her situation was overshadowed by simple, strange wonder.
"And down there,"
Ludwig said, his voice dropping as he pointed a claw down a narrow, shadowy alley between two leaning stone buildings,
"is something you won't see on any map. A little piece of the old world, frozen in time."
The alley was a stark contrast to the main thoroughfare. The cheerful noise of the market faded into a damp, echoing silence. The air grew cold. Lines of laundry hung overhead, but they were still and dripping, and the windows on either side were dark and shuttered.
"It's… quiet," Tekka said, her own voice seeming too loud.
"Isn't it?" Ludwig agreed, his tone flat. He had stopped walking and was now standing between her and the alley's entrance, his broad back blocking the light. The playful glint in his eyes was gone, replaced by a weary, unreadable hardness.
"A good place for a private chat. No interruptions."
Tekka's instincts, lulled into a false sense of security, suddenly screamed. The star-tattoo on her backhand gave a painful, urgent throb.
"What kind of chat?"
she asked, taking a subtle step back. The sound of perfectly synchronized boots clicking against the wet cobblestones echoed from the entrance of the alley. She spun around to see three figures in onyx-black uniforms and harpoon-star emblems step into the mouth of the passage, blocking her only escape. She whipped her head back to Ludwig, her emerald eyes wide with dawning horror.
"What…"
He wouldn't meet her gaze. He just looked past her, at the lead Star Chaser, and gave a single, curt nod.
"The deal is done, Von Asterix,"
the lead Chaser said, his voice a emotionless modulator behind his visor.
"Step aside."
Ludwig did. He moved to the side of the alley, leaning against the damp wall with his arms crossed, a picture of detached indifference. She tried to run, to shove past him, but it was too late. Two of the Chasers moved with terrifying speed. They seized her arms, their rune-etched gauntlets humming with a energy that made her muscles go weak. She was slammed face-first against the cold, rough stone of the wall. The impact jarred her teeth.
"H-Hey! Who are you!?"
"Get off me!"
she snarled, struggling with a strength she didn't know she had. It was useless. One of them pinned her easily with an arm across her back, while the other produced a set of manacles. They weren't ordinary iron, but a sleek, brushed metal that seemed to drink the light. The moment they clicked shut around her wrists, a wave of nullifying energy washed through her.
The throbbing in her tattoo ceased, replaced by a dead, hollow feeling. Her strength drained away, leaving her limp and held up only by the Chaser's grip. The lead Chaser approached Ludwig. He didn't speak. Simply held out a heavy, clinking pouch.
Ludwig took it without a word, weighing it in his palm once before tucking it into his inner jacket pocket. The transaction was complete. He finally looked at Tekka then, her cheek pressed against the grimy wall, her white hair tangled and her amethyst eyes blazing with a fury that could melt steel.
"Why?"
she choked out, the word a weapon. Ludwig's ears flattened slightly. For a heartbeat, something like shame flickered in his golden eyes. Then it was gone, replaced by the same weary hardness.
"Nothing personal, little star. But a wolf like me needs to survive as well."
he said, his voice low and rough.
"And some debts have to be paid."
With that, he pushed off the wall. He didn't look back.
"Goodluck Tekka"
He just walked past the Star Chasers, out of the alley, and disappeared into the bustling market crowd as if she had never existed. The lead Chaser's visor glowed as he looked down at his captured prize.
"Hollow Star Hostess secured,"
he intoned to his subordinates.
"Transport is waiting. Lord Elric does not like to be kept waiting."
They hauled her, stumbling and defeated, deeper into the darkness of the alley, toward a fate she could only dread.
The cold, deadening metal of the manacles sealed around Tekka's wrists, but it couldn't extinguish the fire in her veins. As the two soldiers began to drag her deeper into the gloomy alley, she fought like a wild thing. She dug her heels into the grimy cobblestones, her body a taut bowstring of defiance.
"Let me go! Who are you people?!"
she screamed, her voice echoing off the narrow walls, raw and desperate.
"What do you want from me?!"
The lead Star Chaser, who had been observing with detached professionalism, stopped. He held up a single, gauntleted hand, and his subordinates froze instantly. He took two slow, measured steps toward her until he loomed over her. The dark, reflective visor of his helmet tilted down, and though she couldn't see his eyes, she could feel his gaze a physical weight of pure, unadulterated disgust.
He looked at her the way one looks at a filthy, disease-ridden swine wallowing in its own filth.
"Cease your pointless struggling,"
his voice was a synthetic, cold monotone, stripped of all humanity by the helmet's modulator.
"It is beneath even your wretched kind."
He reached out, not with his hand, but with the humming, rune-etched claw of his gauntlet. With a contemptuous flick, he pushed up the sleeve of her school uniform, fully revealing the star-shaped tattoo on her backhand. It seemed to pulse faintly, even against the nullifying metal of the manacles.
"We," he stated, the word final and absolute, "are the Star Chasers. The purifiers of this realm. The scalpel that cuts the cosmic rot from the flesh of reality."
He leaned in closer, the humming of his gear the only sound in the silent alley.
"And you… you are a vessel. A container for a power that has eluded our finest minds for generations. The Hollow Star is not a blight. It is the most potent, immeasurable power source in existence. A key to technologies beyond comprehension."
His head tilted, the gesture somehow more threatening than any snarl.
"We chase what should not be. We contain what we need. And we dissect what is unknown."
The cold, threatening tone of his voice dropped even lower, promising not pain, but something far worse: erasure.
"Our society thrives on order. On understanding. And you… you will provide a great deal of understanding."
The modulator crackled softly.
"We will peel back your layers, hostess. We will map every synapse that fires when we stimulate this… brand. We will learn how it functions, how it connects to the source, and how to sever that connection permanently."
"The experiments awaiting you are not meant to be 'friendly',"
he hissed, the word dripping with mockery.
"They are meant to be informative. You are not a guest. You are a resource. A specimen to be utilized until there is nothing left to learn. And then, you will be discarded."
He straightened up, the brief moment of horrific intimacy over. He gave another slight nod to his soldiers.
"The subject is agitated. Sedate it."
One of the soldiers holding her produced a sleek, needle-like device from his belt. Tekka's struggles renewed with frantic, panicked strength, but it was useless. She felt a sharp sting on the side of her neck.
A cold numbness spread rapidly from the point of injection, washing through her body and clouding her mind. The world began to swim, the visor of the cruel captain becoming a blurry, dark moon in her fading vision. The last thing she heard was his emotionless voice.
"Lord Elric awaits his new toy."
The two Star Chasers marched their numb, stumbling prisoner toward a sleek, menacing aircraft hovering at the end of the alley. Its hull was the same onyx black as their armor, its engines emitting a silent, shimmering heat haze.
Just as they were about to ascend the ramp, a figure melted out of the shadows in front of them, blocking their path.
"Now, now, gentlemen,"
a voice, smooth as velvet and sharp as a razor, cut through the air.
"Does the Empire not teach you any manners? One does not handle a lady so… roughly."
The lead Chaser instantly dropped Tekka's arm, his hand towards the figure with a fire aim position.
"Identify yourself!"
The man before them was massively tall, even taller than Ludwig, standing at an imposing 6'8". He was elegantly lean, dressed in an immaculate, tailed black coat worn over a blood-red waistcoat and a high-collared shirt. The attire was archaic, from a bygone era of duels and courtly intrigue, yet it looked utterly natural on him. His skin was pale as moonlight, a stark canvas for his vibrant, crimson hair that fell in soft waves to his shoulders. And his eyes… they were two gleaming rubies, holding a glint of ancient amusement and profound danger.
He completely ignored the drawn weapon, his ruby gaze sliding past the captain to land on the dazed, captive Tekka.
"She is clearly a treasure and treasure's," he said, his voice dropping to a intimate, chilling whisper, "should not be manhandled by common thugs."
"This is official Star Chaser business," the captain snarled, the modulator straining with his anger. "Interfere, and you will be eliminated."
The crimson-haired man's smile was a flash of perfect white teeth. It did not reach his eyes.
"Eliminated? What a tiresome word." He took a single, graceful step forward. The air around him seemed to warp and thicken, the temperature dropping several degrees.
"I am merely offering a critique of your customer service. It is… lacking."
He finally looked at the captain, and the amusement vanished from his face, replaced by an ancient, bottomless cold.
"You will unhand the girl. You will walk away. And you will tell Lord Elric that his property has been repossessed by a higher authority."
The captain barked a order.
"Open fire!!!"
But before the soldiers could even squeeze their triggers, the man moved. It was not a movement. It was a blur of black and crimson. One moment he was ten feet away, the next he was standing directly beside Tekka. He didn't attack the soldiers.
He simply placed a single, pale finger on the nullifying manacles around her wrists. There was a sound of shattering crystal. The high-tech cuffs didn't just unlock—they exploded into a thousand glittering, inert fragments. Power, raw and immense, crashed back into Tekka like a tidal wave.
The sedative in her system burned away in an instant. Her star-scar flared to life, not just on her wrist, but she felt a corresponding, searing heat bloom between her shoulder blades—a hidden mark she never knew was there.
She gasped, stumbling back, free. The crimson-haired man didn't even look at the stunned Star Chasers. He offered his arm to Tekka, his expression one of genteel courtesy.
"My apologies for the delay,"
he said, as if they were at a ball and not in a combat zone.
"Shall we go? This locale has become rather… vulgar."
The lead Chaser finally found his voice, a mixture of rage and terror.
"Who are you?!"
The man glanced over his shoulder, his ruby eyes glowing with an inner fire.
"A concerned citizen. Now,"
he said, his tone final.
"Run along and deliver my message."
He didn't wait for a reply. With a grace that defied physics, he swept Tekka alongside him, and together they melted back into the shadows of the alley, leaving the elite Star Chasers standing bewildered and defeated beside their useless ship.
Consciousness returned to Tekka in a nauseating wave. The world was a blur of sound and motion. She felt the cold numbness of the sedative receding, burned away by a sudden, searing resurgence of power that flooded her veins from the scar on her wrist. Her eyelids fluttered open.
The last thing she remembered was the cold visor of the Star Chaser captain and the promise of being a "resource."
Now, she was standing, her legs wobbly, supported by a tall figure in a black coat. A man with hair like crimson silk and eyes that glowed like embers.
"W-who...?"
she slurred, her tongue feeling thick and heavy.
"Who are you...?"
The man didn't answer her. His attention was on the recovering Star Chasers. They had no intention of letting their prize walk away. Enraged by the destruction of their cuffs and the stranger's arrogance, they acted.
Their rune-etched gauntlets hummed to a fever pitch. Holographic numerals and equationsspiraled around their clenched fists, calculating and concentrating immense energy. The air crackled with ozone.
"Target both! Maximum discharge!"
the captain roared. Twin lances of crackling blue electricityerupted from their hands, crossing the distance in a nanosecond, aimed to electrocute them both into submission.
The crimson-haired man didn't even look concerned. He gently shifted Tekka behind him, his voice a calm, almost bored murmur.
"A moment longer, if you please. It seems our hosts require a more... direct lesson in manners."
As the violent arcs of lightning were about to strike, he simply lifted his pale hand and made a casual, backhanded swatting motion. The electricity shattered against his palm like glass, exploding into a thousand harmless, fizzling sparks that dissipated into the air.
"Pathetic," he sighed, the word dripping with genuine disappointment. "Is this the might of the great Star Chasers? I expected more than parlor tricks."
Before the soldiers could process their attack being nullified so effortlessly, the man moved. Holographic data streams, far more complex and ancient than the Chasers', flickered around his own clenched fist. But where theirs calculated electricity, his writhed with fiery, crimson equations. The numbers didn't just glow; they burned. The air around his fist distorted from the heat. In the blink of an eye, he was simply gone. He reappeared instantly directly in front of the nearest soldier. There was no blur of movement—it was pure, instantaneous teleportation.
"Too slow," the man whispered.
He drove his flaming-data-wreathed fist into the two soldiers chest plate. There was no loud impact, only a deep, resonant thump, like a massive bell being struck once. The advanced armor didn't crack. it vaporized on contact in a small, precise circle.
The soldiers didn't cry out. They were lifted off their feet and launched backward like a ragdolls. They sailed across the width of the alley and smashed through the stone wall of a building with a thunderous crash, disappearing into the cloud of dust and debris, unconscious before he even landed.
The crimson-haired man stood where he had landed, the fiery numbers around his hand fading. He glanced at the remaining, utterly stunned Chasers, then back at a wide-eyed Tekka.
"Now," he said, as if he hadn't just redefined the laws of physics and combat. "Where were we? Ah, yes. Our exit."
Consciousness returned to Tekka in a nauseating wave. The world was a blur of sound and motion. Her eyelids fluttered open to a surreal scene. She was standing, supported by a tall figure with crimson hair, while the two remaining Star Chasers recoiled in shock. The one who had been sent flying through the wall was not moving.
The lead Chaser stared, his visor flickering as it tried and failed to compute what it had just witnessed. The holographic data streams around the stranger's fist had been unlike anything in their databases—not just more powerful, but structured on a completely different, terrifyingly advanced level.
"Impossible…"
the captain's voice was a staticky gasp, all its former cold authority shattered into pure disbelief.
"That level of Mathix… the energy signature… No one is capable of that! No one! What… what are you?!"
The crimson-haired man gently steadied Tekka, his ruby eyes glinting with amusement at the captain's meltdown.
"Who knows?" he offered, his tone light and mocking. "I've been called many things. But truly, I simply pay better attention in class."
He held up his hand, and for a brief second, a few lingering, shimmering numerals—fiery, golden calculus symbols—danced over his knuckles.
"That 'attack' was quite simple, really. A rudimentary kinetic amplification formula. I merely calculated the exact resonance frequency of his armor and applied the potential energy of a micro-solar flare, concentrated to a one-millimeter point."
He gave a dismissive wave.
"Child's play. The real trick was converting the sun's spectral output into a cohesive force without vaporizing the entire block or causing a gamma ray burst. The equation for that is rather elegant, though I suppose it would be… too complex for you to understand."
The explanation, delivered with the casual arrogance of a professor lecturing a slow student, was the final straw. The lead Chaser's fear curdled into rage.
"Stop screwing with me!"
he screamed, his modulator cracking with the strain. He thrust both hands forward, gauntlets whining as he poured every ounce of power into a final, desperate electric blast.
The air screamed with the build-up of energy.
The crimson-haired man sighed, a sound of profound boredom.
"So predictable."
He didn't swat this one away. He simply vanished. He reappeared in the exact same spot he had been standing. To Tekka and the Chaser, factual instantaneous movement. There was no time to even process it. The massive ball of crackling electricity wasn't deflected. It was just gone. And in the man's hand was a dense, shimmering sphere of that same energy, now compressed and docile, spinning quietly like a toy.
"You really should learn to recycle,"
he said calmly. Then, he flicked his wrist. The contained energy ball shot forward not as a blast, but as a solid, concussive projectile. It crossed the space before the captain could even process that his attack had been stolen.
It struck him square in the chest with a sound like a gong being struck by a meteor.
The impact lifted him off his feet and hurled him backward. He sailed across the alley, a black streak against the grimy walls, and crashed into the hull of their own sleek aircraft with a deafening CRUNCH!!! of buckling metal. He slid down the dented surface, leaving a smeared scorch mark, and collapsed in an unconscious heap at the ship's landing struts.
The crimson-haired man dusted off his hands, the last of the holographic numbers fading from his skin. The alley was silent save for the faint crackle of dying sparks from the wrecked ship. He turned back to Tekka, offering his arm once more with impeccable grace.
"My apologies for the mess,"
he said, as if he'd just taken out the trash and not two elite soldiers with the ease of someone swatting flies.
"Shall we? I know a place where the refreshments are significantly better… and they don't come with manacles."
The world snapped back into focus with a painful, high-definition clarity. Tekka's senses were overloaded, each one feeding her a piece of a nightmare she couldn't process.
The acrid smell of ozone and scorched metal. The sight of the lead Chaser's body crumpled against the massive dent in his own ship.
The lingering, searing heat from the crimson-haired man's impossible equations, still warming the air. The echo of his voice, casually explaining solar flares and kinetic frequencies like he was discussing the weather. Her mind, already frayed from the sedative, the betrayal, and the sudden resurgence of her own strange power, short-circuited. It was too much. The leap from napping in a classroom to witnessing a man weaponize advanced mathematics was a chasm her sanity could not cross.
She stared at the crimson-haired savior—or was he just another predator?—her emerald eyes wide with pure, uncomprehending shock. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. The questions—Who are you? What are you? Why?—jammed together in her throat, a tangled knot of terror and awe.
The adrenaline that had been sustaining her vanished all at once. A wave of dizzying vertigo washed over her. The edges of her vision darkened, the image of the man's faint, amused smile swimming in and out of focus.
Her knees buckled.
There was no dramatic cry, no final word. Her body simply decided it had reached its limit. She felt a strong, steadying arm catch her before she could hit the ground, the fabric of his coat soft against her cheek.
Then, nothing.
Only a deep, welcoming blackness, swallowing the madness whole. The crimson-haired man looked down at the unconscious girl in his arms, her stark white hair contrasting sharply with the black of his sleeve. A slight, almost imperceptible sigh escaped him.
"A rather abrupt end to our introductions," he murmured to the silent alley. He adjusted his hold, lifting her effortlessly.
"No matter. Rest is perhaps the most rational response to all this. We will have plenty of time for… explanations."
With a final glance at the wreckage of the Star Chasers, he turned and walked into the deeper shadows of the alley, the unconscious Tekka held securely against his chest, leaving behind only silence and the smell of a fight that was never even a contest.