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Location : Ber'Herek Patrol District 17 – Lower Watchtower Air ships Barracks
Hour : 8PM
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The dropship landed back in Ber'Herek's inner perimeter just before the setting sun.
The skyline greeted them like a cage of glass and gold — endless towers, neon rain, and sky-traffic screaming past layered highways to the atmospheric elevators of Gorgon HQ orbital city.
Elohen Kael'Serin, Class-B Scan Officer, Sector Watch Unit 12-Beta.
Elf. 172 years old. Quiet. Reliable.
/// PERSONNAL DATA /// :
Criminal Record: CleanPromotions: NoneWarnings: 0Aura Resistance: HighGorgon Loyalty Suspicion Rating: "Passive compliant"
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Just another name in the city's bloodstream.
After debrief, he returned to his pod-barrack — a metal room barely wider than a coffin, lit by humming blue glyphs and one cracked monitor showing the newsfeed.
He sat on the edge of the bunk.Boots still on.Helmet on his knees.
He hadn't stopped thinking about it.
That man.The silence.The gust.
Not a reading. Not a trace. No visual anomaly logged. But still—
He felt something.
He could still feel it.
TOWER RECORDING LOG [PRIVATE - UNFILED]
He pressed his finger to the comm-pad. The recording glyph blinked.
"Elohen Kael'Serin, Patrol 12-Beta, Outer Sweep 60-Kappa..."
He hesitated.
"No incident reported by field tech. But I'd like to… flag a subjective impression."
Silence.
"There was a man in the village. Ragged. Repairing infrastructure. No aura signature. But..."
His voice lowered.
"I looked at him too long."
"And I swear — for a breath, for a blink — I felt like I was standing beneath a… tower of presence. Not power. Presence. Like something that shouldn't fit in this reality was wearing a man appearance like clothes."
He exhaled.
"Maybe it was the wind."
The record filtered his voice but Elohen didn't hit the save.
"I must be mad from all this training..."
Later that shift after eating some Synthetic celeri soup, he stood outside the sergeant's office.Hand hovering above the door glyph to open it but...
He lowered it.Then walked away.
////
At the same time in the orbital Marsian prison of Gorgon HQ in the upper stratosphere of the Planet.
////
The alarms had no color.No sound.Only weight.
Void-13 hadn't been accessed in a million years.
Even the AIs had forgotten what they had kept locked and stored here.
When the seal broke, there was no breach reported.
Only a soft laughter in the air pressurized corridors of the runic seven layered golden sealed globe.Heard by no ears — only remembered by the void.
////
[CONTAINMENT CLASS BREACHED : DIVINE-PRIMAL-FAE – STATUS: ESCAPED]ENTITY: Codename "Faesery the planeshifter"RACE: Fairy (Primal Magic era Origin)AGE: UnknownINCARCERATION TIME: 1,008,334 yearsTHREAT CLASS: Cosmic Restructure TierPREDICTED PATH: UNCALCULATED
In the surveillance logs, the camera footage showed nothing.
Just a flower blooming on the cold floor,and a trail of stardust where her prison used to be.
The Gorgon HQ went in full throttle mod 24H after her escape, assembling spaceships to go inspect the void prison. Ezarion Vel'tharn, kept ordering his squads to be carefull as he pulled her record from a pile of dusty scrolls is the aura vaults archives. All of the twelve seats entered an emergeancy meeting to discuss the possible Aura loss caused by the primal fairy...
Except one.
Varnex Mal'Reth was no where to be seen as even his clan's main HQ sent excuses to Ezarion for his disappearance... Ezarion Slammed his fist on his control pannel as he realised the plan of Varnex to double him up on the location of the returning Immortal & the divine ranked fairy...
"DAMN YOU VARNEX !!"
////
The cabin pulsed with quiet malevolence — a vessel built from enchanted death metallic shards and soul-forged alloys, its structure stitched together with forbidden runes and corporate black law as is ripped through the Ber'Herek skies towards a hidden location.
Inside, seated within a throne of pulsing bone-circuitry and glyph-lined steel, sat Varnex Mal'Reth —Chief Aura Broker.Lich of the Sixth Collapse.Executor of Gorgon's Deep Silence Protocols.
His skeletal fingers flexed over an obsidian control panel,adjusting the shimmering necrotic nerve channels embedded in his forearms.Arc-light flickered across his polished business suit, tailored from dimensional fiber harvested in soul storms of aura farmed entities.
Before him, two monitors hovered in eerie silence:
— One showed Void-13, now empty. Its containment glyphs flickered like dying suns. The cell that held a divine-class fairy for over a million years... gone. Not breached — abandoned, before shifting to Gigantia, the Elven forest of origin 24km away of Ber'Herek's frontier.
— The other? A grainy still frame from a surveillance drone over Thirn's Hollow —A ragged man kneeling beside a broken drone,dust swirling around him like low fog worshipping a forgotten altar.
Varnex leaned forward.
His feets pulsed once with ancient green flame.No alarm. No rage.Only the slow, curling smile of a predator savoring the first scent of blood on the wind—a smile carved from cold calculation and intoxicating anticipation.
"Both of you…" he whispered, as if addressing the monitors personally,"…woke up way later than i anticipated... making me doubt the precision of my scrolls of written destiny."
He stood — slow, precise. A corporate god stretching his spine of soulwire and steel.
He straightened his lapels. Adjusted his cufflinks, etched with micro-glyphs stolen from collapsed time entities.
The aircraft hummed in approval — recognizing intent.
Then he turned toward the bay doors and whispered to the shadows behind him:
"The harvest season... is back and open my dear investments."
The bay doors opened as the remaining 4 black gods weapons walked in their respective full 100 year of aura tech progress, hunting gears powered suits.
"Bring me the fairy's core first !"
////
Location: Ber'Herek Patrol District 17Time since Gorgon Escapee : 35 Hours
////
Elohen Kael'Serin tried to forget.
He really did.
He reran his sweep logs.Recalibrated his scanner three times.Ran an aura leak check on his uniform.Even took an emotion suppressant pill — just to sleep.
But it didn't work.
Because every time he closed his eyes,he saw dust curling around bare feet,and a man too small to contain what Elohen felt.
That morning, he skipped his squad patrol time as the whole Gorgon agency was in mess handling press and population panicking from the mad primal fairy who had escaped the day prior.His appetite had faded as the news feed popped up on the screen.
Suddenly a strucking effect of curiosity and obsession overtook him..
"THE VIDEO DATA !! JHON HAD A ULTRA FAST CAM ON HIS TORSO !!"
////
His clearance wasn't high enough to enter the Sector's data bank in the Sergeants office but he hacked his way in with his magic leaving a mana arrow blast through the cam commands. As his squad was busy patrolling the city for the escapee.
The sergeant had left her monitor wide open on the registry holographic desk.
Patrol Record: Sector 60-Gamma | Thirn's Hollow | 6 Days AgoUnit: 12-BetaSquad Visuals: StandardAnomaly Tags: NoneResult: No Readings Logged
He leaned forward.
Slowed the frame speed on Jhon's video who had yet been opened.
Seconds played out in ultra-time:Villagers moving slowly.Dry air rippling from solar panels.Children. Farmers. Elders.
Then—
Him.
Center screen.
The man in rags.
No aura.No heartbeat spike.No anomalous readings.
Just… standing.Fixing a farming drone in a gated garden.
But as Elohen stared again — harder this time — he felt it again as he spammed the slow time button.
That pressure in his chest.Like his soul was standing on tiptoe beneath a cathedral of stars.
He froze the frame.
Zoomed in.
The ragged man's back was turned.
But the air — the dust, the trees, the shadows — bent just slightly inward.The wind... didn't move his rags but... it moved towards...
Toward him with a blue imperceptible aura flicker of energy.
Elohen's fingers hovered over the "Report Observation" key.
He could tag it.Send it directly to his sergeant.Trigger a re-sweep.
But something inside him hesitated.
Not from fear.But from a strange kind of loyalty —To whatever that thing had been.
Because whatever it was, it hadn't hurt anyone.
In fact… it had helped and prevented innocent death or his teamates.
And then—
A cold breeze blew through the archive booth.Artificial systems didn't allow for airflow.
But Elohen felt it.Felt it brush his shoulder — like a whisper through bone.
He shivered.And whispered to himself:
"Holy shit... It's him... it's the Immortal King..."
He closed the log.Didn't flag it.Didn't file a report.
He just sat there.Silent.Torn in between death & duty.