Sylas watched the spaceship vanish into the steel sky of Caerostis Prime, he knew that Lucan and his team would also begin their own mission.
In the spaceship seven men sat quietly around Lucan, each clad in matte-black armour threaded with golden inlays that shimmered faintly under the ship's internal lights. They weren't just any soldiers they were—The Golden Wardens.
In order to be christened as such they had to undergo three years of relentless training under Sylas and Sera's joint command.
From sub-zero to wastelands to gravity-fluctuating combat domes, from urban warzones to radiation-soaked dunes, they had been pushed beyond the threshold of normal men.
Each of them had to master dozens of weapon types, adapted to a wide variety of vehicles—land, sea, air, and space—and endured bio augmentations that elevated their reflexes, strength, and stamina to near post-human levels.
Now they stood as living weapons and there was not a single sign of nervousness even though this was their first mission.
Even with Sylas gone, tension still lingered in the air like static. Not from fear of failure or combat—but because she was still watching.
Sera chuckled to herself as she watched the men in their tense position, eventually she said, "Lucan get your men to relax, I don't bite."
'Atleast not from this far.' Sera thought to herself.
Lucan allowed himself a faint smile. "Thank you, my lady." He turned to the rest of the squad. "Alright, you heard her. Feel free to speak—but keep your senses sharp."
"Yes, sir," they replied in perfect unison, voices clipped and disciplined.
They loosened slightly, some making small talk—quiet banter about their gear, about their experiences, or other minor things—but it didn't last long. Habit reclaimed them like the snap of a finger. Within minutes, they were silent again, eyes scanning, fingers twitching against weapon grips.
The spaceship dipped beneath a line of low clouds and approached their designated drop zone. Below stretched a vast, uninhabited dense and towering forest. The trees were colossal, their canopies like green fortresses, some reaching hundreds of meters high.
"Target site in visual range," the flight officer said from the cockpit.
Lucan leaned forward, studying the terrain with a trained eye. "Set down just outside the forest. Keep the engines hot and be ready to leave in a moment notice. One stays with the ship."
"Yes, Commander," the pilot replied.
As the craft hovered low and began its landing sequence, Lucan turned to his men. "Final check."
Each Warden moved with mechanical precision, running diagnostics on their gear—weapons ready, HUDs active, sensors properly calibrated.
Once they nodded satisfied, Lucan stepped toward the back of the ship where two reinforced cases lay secured in a magnetic crate. He grabbed one and beside him, Warden Drax took the other.
"Let's move."
The ramp hissed open, and the scent of wild earth flooded in—damp leaves, old bark, and the distant buzz of unseen creatures.
Lucan led them down the ramp, boots hitting the mossy ground with confidence.
They fanned out into the shadowed woods, making sure to move in formation as they had been trained.
Behind them, the spaceship sealed its ramp and began a low hover, holding position and scanning the perimeter. One Warden remained onboard, rifle in hand, silent and alert.
The mission had begun.
*******
Lucan moved cautiously through the towering trees, his visor glowing faintly as the scanner swept the environment in layered waves of red and green.
The forest was dense—thick with massive trunks, hanging vines, and brush so tall it reached their waists. Birds screeched in the far distance, and every step felt like a negotiation with the wild.
His eyes scanned for markers—clean soil, minimal root entanglement, ideal moisture saturation. They needed the perfect spot.
Then, through the quiet buzz of static, Sera's voice cracked into their comms.
"Wait."
The team froze instantly. Hands hovered over weapons, and eyes swept the underbrush.
A few heartbeats passed.
"Warden Drax," Sera continued, her voice glitching slightly due to the distance from her core, "extract the beautiful flowers on your left. Be careful, and make sure to keep it alive."
Tension drained from the squad in a wave of barely audible sighs.
Drax exhaled through his nose, dropping to one knee. The rest of the Golden Wardens immediately shifted into a protective perimeter, scanning every direction for threats.
Drax opened the reinforced box he carried and pulled out a delicate set of tools. In practiced movements, he dug around the shimmering violet bloom and gently extracted it, roots and all.
Less than two minutes later, the flower was nestled safely inside the box, soil and roots intact. Drax sealed it, and Lucan signalled them forward again.
They walked for several more minutes, eyes scanning, weapons idle but ready.
"Stop."
Sera's voice returned, cracked but clear enough. Again, the team tensed, expecting a threat.
"Drax," she said again, "there's another beautiful plant to your right."
Again the tension drained from the squad just as quickly as it built up.
The cycle continued: pause, extract, resume. Occasionally, the squad would rotate watch positions or check gear, but never strayed from their focus.
Eventually, Sera's voice came again.
"Stop."
The squad moved in a defensive position as they had done several times over. Drax stepped, ready to begin the extraction of whatever plant had caught lady Sera's fancy when her voice came again.
"Not you, Drax," Sera said. "Lucan—you're up."
Lucan responded without hesitation.
"Yes, my lady."
He knelt, motioning to the others. The perimeter adjusted, weapons angled outward.
Lucan place the box on the ground and inputting a security key through a small touchpad—fingerprint, eye scan, then a verbal confirmation.
A faint hiss followed. The lid unlocked with a soft click.
Inside the box laid a glass cube, filled nearly to the brim with a thick, black liquid that shimmered faintly in the dark.
He placed the cube gently on the mossy ground. With both hands, he cleared a small patch of earth, careful not to disturb any nearby roots.
Then, Lucan opened the cube.
The liquid slid out slowly, like syrup, pooling before it was suddenly drawn downward—sinking into the forest floor as though pulled down by an unseen hand. The earth seemed to pulse once. Then silence.
Lucan stared for a moment longer, then turned his head slightly.
"Drax."
The Warden jogged over and knelt, pulling out a small pouch filled with transplanted grasses and moss.
He gently covered the site, matching the surroundings until the disturbed soil was nearly invisible to the eye.
Once satisfied, the team rechecked their gear, sealed the empty cube, and began moving again—this time taking a different route through the forest.
They still needed to gather more plants.