The sky above Elizes had turned a soft blue steel, washed clean by its twin suns calm, unbothered. But beneath it, something snapped.
Without warning, Runge pulled his firearm and pointed it at Poshi. The sharp motion cut through the air like a blade, catching us all mid-breath. Even Grimmer, the ever-stoic one, flushed red with a blend of shock and rage.
But Jurgen… Jurgen was different.
Like a man pulled by an invisible current, he grabbed Poshi by the collar and shoved him to the ground, moving instinctively without thought, without knowing what Runge knew. His voice cracked the tension.
"All of you, throw your weapons! Now!"
Guns clattered to the ground, tossed into the thorny grove beside us. The air was electric. Then, without warning or hesitation, Jurgen ripped the gun from Runge's hand and fired a single shot.
Poshi's head jerked back.
The silence shattered. Eight brown-masked men let out a raw, bloodcurdling cry:
"Jaffer!"
They stormed forward like a triggered nerve, no words, no mercy.
I sprinted into them. One swung a curved blade toward me, and I blocked it with my forearm wrapped in makeshift leather, before driving my fist into his ribs. And again. And again. Plazies didn't go down easy. One punch just meant the start of ten.
Meanwhile, Jurgen and Anna were like twin storms. She danced between two of them, her face expressionless but her body brutal, while Jurgen drove his knee into the gut of one attacker and threw another off with a shoulder slam.
Runge, barehanded, snatched a sword mid-swing. His palms tore open, blood dripping, but he grunted, turned the blade against its owner, and crushed two men unconscious with savage precision. Pain didn't faze him. He moved like he had something to prove or something to forget.
I was still locked in with one Plazie when Jurgen suddenly appeared, cracked the man across the jaw, and sent him stumbling. Then, oddly… Jurgen clapped.
Just once.
I didn't know why. Not then. Maybe it was habit. Maybe a signal. Maybe madness. But that brief pause cost him.
A masked man blindsided him, hammering five brutal punches into Jurgen's face. Jurgen's body folded, then twisted, he flung the attacker off and threw a punch that would've dropped any human.
But the masked man didn't flinch. He took the hit like it was air. No recoil, no blood. Just stared.
That punch, Jurgen's punch felt like mine. Useless.
Then Grimmer, silent and strangely detached, picked up a sword from the ground. His eyes were empty, like he didn't even know where he was, and with one clean arc, he sliced down the unflinching attacker. Not rage. Not panic. Just mechanical necessity.
When the blood settled, only two of the masked men were alive. Their bodies trembled under the hands of Raj and Anna, who had subdued them.
Runge approached his hands bloodied, his eyes dark, fury humming beneath his breath.
Runge (low and sharp):
"Who sent you? Why were you here? Speak before I forget you're alive."
Jurgen, wiping blood from his mouth, turned to him half-anger, half-confusion.
Jurgen:
"But how? How did you know Poshi was the one betraying us? You aimed at him like you were sure. Why didn't you tell us earlier? We could've stopped all this before it began!"
Runge's stare cut like frost.
Runge:
"If we hadn't let Poshi spy on us, our enemies wouldn't have shown their hand. You wanted them blind, Jurgen. But we needed them curious."
He stepped forward, voice low, dangerous.
"A blind enemy can be avoided. But a curious enemy? A curious one will come to you. And now… we know who they are."
Runge: "How did you even recognize who they were?"
Raj: "Hold on. Right now, we're already in a trap, right? So why are we standing here throwing words like rocks in a storm? Let's secure ourselves first."
Runge: "Yeah. But even in a so-called safe place, you could be breathing danger. You don't know who's watching."
Raj: "So what?"
Runge (his voice going cold): "So we need to hide... like criminals."
Raj (taken aback): "What? You think we're working outside the law now? That this mission, this journey was forbidden by the government?"
Runge (firm, emotionless): "Yes."
A silence cracked between us like thunder. We stared at him, unsure if we were hearing right. But there was no time to argue. Runge suddenly barked orders like a man haunted by past missions.
"Grab whatever you need to survive. We move now, no delays."
I sprinted to my quarters, snatched up the prototype weapon I'd been building in secret. It wasn't just a design anymore, it worked.
Raj and Anna raided the camp kitchen for supplies, slinging ration packs over their shoulders. Grimmer, in his usual style, picked only what felt "necessary" nothing fancy, nothing too heavy. Meanwhile, Runge dragged two of the captured Plazie soldiers into the open and unmasked them. Jurgen disappeared into his room and reappeared with enough weapons to arm a small unit.
Elizes, the world so perfectly arranged, so richly built, and yet, behind its shining spires and peaceful faces, was a silence full of knives. The Plazies ruled not with AI or emotion, but with unblinking order. People here had no worries… unless they saw a human. Then, even the air turned hostile.
We escaped into the edge of the forest, a dense, untouched region where surveillance signals didn't reach. That night, under a flickering campfire, Runge tied the two Plazies to a tree and began his interrogation.
He didn't shout. He didn't rage. He just hit.
Fists and questions.
No answers came.
When I stepped forward, shaken by the cold in his actions, I asked:
Bjorn: "Who are the people trying to stop us?"
Runge (resting a heavy hand on my shoulder): "I'll tell you. Soon."
Moments later, he ended one of the Plazies with a shot to the head.
By then, Jurgen had already hacked down thick branches and built rough triangle-shaped shelters for each of us. He struck fire into the center with such ease, it made Raj and Anna raised in clean, glass cities watch him in quiet awe.
We gathered around the flame, its warmth pushing back the alien cold. We'd been walking all day, chased by silence and suspicion.
Runge finally spoke.
Runge (voice low and steady): "From now on, we're not just explorers. We're fugitives. What we're doing... is against the law."
Bjorn: "But... why?"
Runge: "Because every expedition into space, every colonization order, is given directly by the ruling council or the planetary king. But this one?"
He paused.
"This one was my own mission. My own curiosity. I wanted to uncover the truth about evolution... and all the lies they've wrapped around it."
Raj: "So we're being hunted? By our own government?"
Runge: "Yes."
Bjorn: "Then why didn't you tell us earlier? Before even Poshi and the others turned against us?"
Runge: "Because I wanted them to see something. That we, you are capable of standing tall without their systems, their permission, their blind rules. Our clarity, our refusal to fear them... that's enough to shake their throne."
Across the fire, Jurgen stayed silent. His eyes burned into the flames. In that moment, his expression was beastlike, cold and calculating, like a lion watching prey. He didn't trust easily. Raj had told me that long ago.
Bjorn: "But how do you know it's the government? Why not someone else? We need to be sure, so we can survive whatever's coming next."
Runge (slowly pulling off the bloodied glove from his hand):
"You see these masked men?"
"I used to be one of them. I was sent on missions like this to silence rebels, to kill those who spoke of hidden truths. Once, during a mission, someone slaughtered my whole team. I was the only one who survived. They tortured me. And before I passed out, one of them said something that burned into my skull..."
"Go against the government. One day, you'll be like us."
"Back then, I didn't understand it. But now?"
"Now, I know they were right."
A strange silence folded over us. The fire crackled, and the forest watched quietly. Somewhere beyond those trees, our hunters waited.
Bjorn (thinking aloud):
"Commander Runge… The government decides on expeditions within three days, right? But we trained for two months. If this mission was so illegal, why didn't they attack us after Day 3? Why wait this long?"
"Are they watching us? Studying us? Or are we just pawns in something bigger?"
The fire didn't answer. But Jurgen's grip tightened on his weapon, and in the sky above us, the stars blinked like silent witnesses, too far to help, too old to care. Runge (in a steady, bone-cutting tone):
"Maybe there's a thread of betrayal wound deep in one of us. Some traitor's blood still pumping loud in our veins. Perhaps that's why they attacked, even if the man once was honoured in our own society."
His words were calm, yet they hit like a cold splash of iron. Both I and Raj stiffened not out of guilt, but fear of truth becoming voice.
Then Raj stood up not like a man seeking forgiveness, but like someone placing his weight on an unshakable truth.
Raj:
"Commander, maybe me and my sister… we are the disturbance in your mission.
Because we carry the blood of a traitor.
My father he was a Plazie tech soldier, one of the finest minds. But he chose friendship with a human from Btell over his own kind. Died for that man.
I never knew why. But I do know what it makes us look like now, like shadows trailing after a broken name."
There was no apology in his voice. Just clarity. Just honesty. It shook me.
Runge (glancing across the fire):
"So. One man's truth has stepped out of the shadows.
Anyone else ready to show their true colour?"
The weight of his words pressed down on me. Raj's courage made something stir inside. But in my case, it wasn't just bloodlines it was the entire mission I had deceived. When I rose to speak, my legs trembled, not from cold, but from the fear of truth pulling down everything I had built.
Bjorn:
"Commander... The real reason for the attack… is me.
My father was the traitor your people feared, the same man Raj's father befriended. He fought to surrender my planet to the Plazies, and I'm the last left of that fallen clan.
I never told anyone… not even Raj. I used a new name, a new face. I just wanted to survive.
I'm sorry… for dragging you all into this."
Raj's face tightened. Anna stared blankly, her eyes cutting through my words. For a moment, I thought I had lost the last people who ever stood beside me.
"Aren't you… angry at me?" I asked Raj, barely audible.
But he just let out a quiet chuckle.
Anna:
"We are not responsible for the sins of our fathers or forefathers, Bjorn.
But we are responsible for not becoming them."
Runge (standing like an unshaken mountain):
"True.
Yet… we are also the consequences of our fathers and forefathers.
Every scar, every doubt, every enemy, they all stem from what they left behind."
A silence followed, deeper than before.
Grimmer, who hadn't spoken in what felt like hours, turned slowly. His gaze fell on Jurgen, who had silently let a tear roll down his cheek.
Grimmer (softly):
"Jurgen… why are you crying?"
Jurgen (voice trembling):
"Because for the first time… I feel like I'm part of something honest.
Even Plazies don't trust their own men like this."
Runge stepped forward. His face had the stillness of a storm yet to fall.
Runge:
"We've all been flung into a fire none of us asked for.
But look at us. Betrayers. Survivors. Soldiers. Misfits.
We're finally stitched together by the same wound, the question of who we really are.
Grimmer, I know you. You were the strongest fighter from Btell after Bjorn. Raised under the edge of both Plazie and human rule. A natural-born warrior.
And Jurgen…"
He turned, his voice softening.
"We grew up in the same adoption center, remember? You don't recognize me yet. That's fine. I looked different back then… weaker.
But I always remembered you.
You never trusted anyone, your trauma made you selfish. I don't blame you. But this time, Jurgen...
Be selfish for the truth. Not for survival."
Jurgen walked toward him, wordless, and wrapped his arms around Runge in a tight, burning embrace.
Jurgen (through glimmering eyes):
"Yes, brother. For truth."
And there, in that half-burnt clearing, surrounded by blood, lies, and legacy… we stood.
Not as fugitives.
Not as pawns in a mission built by unseen rulers.
But as people finally willing to be selfish for something that matters. Then we took pledge ourselves on the sparking fire.
"We didn't pledge for nations.
We didn't pledge for honour.
We pledged for ourselves to no longer be tools in someone else's war.
No longer slaves for a Plazie cause… or for a human guilt."
After forging a fragile bond of trust among us, we finally surrendered ourselves to the stillness of Elizes' night. The air held a dry warmth—like an old whisper that refused to vanish. For the first time in weeks, my mind lined up its thoughts in a straight row, clearing the fog of survival. The mission… the truth... it all began to crystallize.
It was then I truly understood the truth about Jurgen, he wasn't my brother from another mother, nor some distant cousin lost in family lines. He was a Plazie. One of them. A truth that was silent, but sharp, like a thorn behind a smile.
That night, under the forest canopy veined with bioluminescent moss, we chose our places to sleep. Anna and Grimmer nestled into their tree-woven shelters, structures built with both care and wariness. They were the ones who carried invisible targets on their backs, so we let them rest wrapped in safety.
Runge, oblivious in his own dreams, slept under a crooked tree, and that's when the wind played its trick. A photograph fluttered from his pocket like a wounded bird. I picked it up with cautious fingers.
It was a picture of a younger version of our commander, Runge, with a human beside him. The human's face was familiar in shape but foreign in details, like a version of someone I'd known from my world but painted in a slightly off shade. I stared at the image for a while, letting its mystery sit with me, before I slid it into my pocket and took shelter under another tree.
Morning arrived with the gentle push of sunlight, warm and amber, slicing through the gaps in the leaves. As I stirred, I saw Jurgen beside me, his breathing slow, almost too peaceful. But then his face twitched,lips parted in tension, and without warning, he bolted upright, his hand reaching toward the heavens like he was trying to pull something down.
"Who is that?!" he shouted, eyes wide, body stiff like stone cracked by a storm.
I rushed to his side, kneeling beside him.
"Jurgen... who did you see?"
His voice lowered, but his eyes still carried the storm.
"A man... with dark red eyes. He's always in my dreams. I've never told anyone. He's not like any of us, he's something else. Fierce. Destructive. Like he was born to end everything."
A chill coiled around me. I realized then that the life he'd led, among violence, survival, and suspicion, had painted that monster into his subconscious. A figure born from ruin. A shadow of everything he'd endured.
I placed my hand on his shoulder and said nothing. Sometimes comfort is not in words, but in the presence of someone who sees your chaos and chooses to stay.
Soon after, Runge gathered us under a massive elder tree, its branches reaching outward like a protector of secrets.
"Listen up," he said. "We move out today. Our homes, our camps—they're no longer safe. Government eyes are everywhere. And Raj…"he paused"…your mother's been taken. Whether it's because of our blood ties, or because they suspect we know too much we can't say. But don't let it shake you."
Raj said nothing. He stared at the dirt like it might swallow him whole. But his silence was louder than any scream.
Jurgen added from below, "Alexander's in the Shane Squad. He's our only hope. He's one of us, we trust him."
"Or he's changed," Runge replied, half-laughing, half-wounded. "People do, Jurgen. Trust can rot."
But Jurgen just scoffed. "You've seen what we've been through. If anyone hasn't forgotten who we were it's him."
We wrapped our faces in scarves and old gear, walking like fugitives through a town that felt alien to our pain. Plazies laughed in open markets, their lives cradled by comfort and technology. Their children played beneath synthetic light. The government gave them everything, except the ability to see humans as anything but dust.
As we neared Raj's home, his breath hitched. Guards swarmed it like ants on sugar. From a tinted vehicle, we saw her, his mother, eyes tired but strong, being driven away. For a second, her gaze locked with Anna's. No words. No tears. Just a look—a blade-thin glance that cut through steel, but gave nothing away to the soldiers.
Alexander's place sat on Alexa Street once owned by his uncle, now just a rental stacked in a 4-storey tower of lost stories. When we knocked, he peeked out in panic. Seeing Runge and Jurgen transformed him. He dropped his guard and embraced them like time had never passed.
He was small, clever-eyed, and shaped like a question mark, curious and always thinking.
He ushered us in after recognizing Runge.
"Jurgen, is he your age?" I whispered.
Jurgen grinned. "They're uncles. But still virgins," he joked. "Runge is ten years older than me, but he's my brother all the same, just like you are."
That one line… made something bloom in my chest. I had never felt more accepted.
Anna moved to Jurgen's side. "Are you hurt?" she asked quietly. Her tone was soft, but it hit Raj like thunder. Why ask him, when I'm the one bleeding? But Jurgen, as usual, brushed the question away like a speck of dust.
As Alexander cooked with a strange care, I joined him with Anna, cutting vegetables from Elizes' wild gardens.
I leaned in. "Why didn't you all escape together? From the adoption centre?"
He laughed softly. "Don't call it that. It wasn't a home. It was a factory. A soldier-making machine. Fate pulled us apart... but it also brought us here."
I blinked. "So how did Jurgen end up with you?"
Alexander's face dimmed.
"He came like a ghost. No guardian, no welcome. Just a child. Most Plazie kids are born to serve, not to dream. He was weak but had something fierce inside. We gave him a place. Made him our brother."
"And Runge?"
He paused again, slicing with a little more force.
"He looked human, completely. As a child, he was abandoned, even mocked. Thrown into human camps. But there… a human woman sheltered him. Loved him. Gave him something no one else could: a family. When she was killed branded useless for her 'weak human nature' he watched it happen. That pain… never left him."
I stopped cutting.
He continued.
"When he finally looked like a Plazie, they let him return to his bloodline. But his real parents, Plazie scientists, were killed during a mission to a planet called Earth."
My blood went cold. My father's mission. That planet.
I turned to Anna. Her eyes were already on me. We didn't need words, we both knew the guilt was ours to carry.
But Runge… he never treated us like enemies.
He saw us as comrades. And that truth hurt more than any betrayal.
Also, I thought that we are destined to a path that is still unknown.