Deep in the Arkvault's exclusive zone, where the ship's alien overlords hold court, a sleek white room gleams like a freshly polished starship. A massive space window dominates one wall, framing a nebula that swirls like cosmic soup left on a galactic stovetop, its purples and blues dancing with pinpricks of starlight. The elder, an ancient alien with metallic skin like cracked starlight and eyes glowing like twin suns, lounges in a chair behind a desk that could launch a fleet. Its surface pulses with holo-displays—schematics of the Arkvault's seven-mile sprawl, habitat maps, and a flickering image of, Alex, Coach Bounce, D-rank Rambler, oblivious in Habitat-382.
The elder's gnarled fingers tap the desk, each tap sending ripples through the holo-images, like a coach tweaking a game plan before a galactic championship. "Report, Varkis," he rumbles, voice like gravel tumbling through a warp drive. Varkis, the sleek alien clad in dark metal that drinks the light, stands rigid, his angular frame cutting a shadow across the pristine floor. His voice, sharp via translator, slices the silence. "The human, Alex, progresses swiftly. Flux control—rudimentary but growing, honed in Habitat-411's pest extermination. His strikes were precise, his power fist glowing with faint flux. The rocky leader sensed earth elemental energy when their hands touched. Alex inquired about training at the Guild—1,000 credits per hour, a steep ask."
The elder's eyes flare, a smirk twitching his weathered face. "Earth and flux? The boy's a puzzle." He leans forward, desk humming as it projects Alex's eel-killing mission: Blades slashing snake-like pests, Fiona's white-and-black suit glowing as her flux staff zaps waves, Dmitri's orange-and-black suit shimmering as his shield scatters sand. "And his team?" the elder asks, eyes narrowing. Varkis tilts his head, metal glinting. "Fiona's flux mastery grows—arrows like laser bolts. Dmitri's fire and wind elements strengthen, his spear scorching. They're D-rank now, bound tightly, though…" He pauses, a flicker of amusement in his tone. "Fiona's attraction to Alex clouds her focus."
The elder chuckles, a sound like a meteor shower in a tin can. "A human romance? Like watching a supernova flirt with a black hole. Charming, but irrelevant." He steeples his fingers, plotting. "Alex's potential—marked '?????' since their Guild tests—is infinite. I've theorized it since I glimpsed him at the dome, there for… other matters." His smirk widens, recalling that rare visit, a cover for inspecting rogue habitats, when Alex's enthusiasm caught his eye—bouncing like a cosmic kangaroo, rallying his Earthly Ramblers. "No similar case exists, Varkis. A human wielding flux and earth element? What else could he master, fire, wind, water, void. I want him on my side."
Varkis shifts, his armor humming like a tuning fork. "The Council of Elders, fifteen others, would notice. They'd vie for him, or worse, neutralize him." The elder's eyes darken, glowing like warning beacons. "Precisely why we keep this quiet. The council makes the big decisions habitat assignments, resource splits, war protocols—but I'll not share Alex. They'd dissect his potential or bury it." His fingers trace the desk, pulling up a holo-log of the Arkvault's council chamber: sixteen thrones, his own gleaming with starlight etchings, the others cloaked in shadow. "Kryon would want him for experiments. Sylara would chain him to her flux labs. No. He's mine."
He leans back, chair creaking like a dying star. "Bring him to me, Varkis. Unnoticed." Varkis's eyes flicker, calculating. "Difficult, Elder. Surveillance blankets the Arkvault—cameras in every corridor, drones in the vents, sensors tracking heartbeats. A meeting here risks exposure." The elder's smirk returns, mischief glinting like a rogue comet. "Then we go to him. The Guild dome—neutral ground, crawling with adventurers. I rarely visit, but for Alex, I'll don my least ostentatious cloak." He gestures to a rack where a shimmering cape hangs, looking suspiciously like it could outshine a supernova. Varkis suppresses a snort. "A bold choice, Elder."
The elder laughs, a cosmic cackle that shakes the holo-displays. "He's scrappy, Varkis, like a cosmic underdog." Varkis nods, his metal fingers tapping a concealed device—a surveillance jammer, humming faintly. "I've tapped their teleporter logs. Alex's team hits the Guild daily now, hunting missions to fund his training. Fiona pushes him, Dmitri Follows. The moment Alex arrives, I'll signal you." The elder's eyes lock on the window's nebula, its swirls mirroring his thoughts. "Good. No one else must know—not the council, not his team. Fiona's flux, Dmitri's elements—they're sparks. Alex is a supernova waiting to ignite."
The room hums, tension thick as a black hole's edge. The desk's holo shifts to Alex's latest feats: His flux-punch crushing the eel queen, Fiona's arrows arcing, Dmitri's shield quaking the sand. The elder's voice drops, reverent. "Unique. A human with no limits. My theory—my gamble—rests on him." Varkis bows, his armor blending into the shadows as he slips out, a ghost in the Arkvault's machine. The elder hums, a low, resonant note like a tuning fork for the universe, plotting His cosmic draft.