A bolt from the blue struck Byzon like a physical blow—sudden, electric, and impossible to ignore. The archives had opened a wound in history, and the answers it hinted at filled him with equal parts doubt and dread. Now he understood why the Zyphorath had paid such a steep price to hire the Moryxil: they hadn't been buying muscle, they'd been buying knowledge. If the ancient records were true and these humans were the same ones from legend, then preparation—cold, meticulous preparation—was the only prudent path.
For weeks the Moryxil intelligence corps had studied every scrap of recovered data: human physiognomy, combat doctrine, technological schematics. They had reverse-engineered fragments of weapon designs and built simulations to test human tactics. The conclusion was chilling—humans adapted with terrifying speed, learning languages, deciphering protocols, and turning allied strengths against their hosts.
Byzon stood before the main hall's holo-screen, voice steady but low.Byzon: "Prepare the Moryxil elite—combat and infiltration squads. Bring them to the main hall. Now."
Within the hour, the chosen teams assembled: lean, coiled figures draped in adaptive armor, faces lit by the cold glow of mission feeds. The hall fell silent as Byzon stepped forward, the weight of the archive heavy on his shoulders.
He let the data speak for a moment—flashes of holo-archives, ruined fleets, star-maps that ended in blotches of static—then addressed them, blunt and uncompromising.
Byzon: "That history is old. It is incomplete, and it is dangerous. These files were recorded aeons ago. They do not show everything—only fragments. But the fragments are enough. If what we've seen is true, we are not dealing with a simple rival. We are dealing with a species that learns faster than we can imagine and uses our own knowledge against us."
He paced once, eyes hard. A dozen weapons systems hummed in the background like a nervous heartbeat.
Byzon: "You will go in quiet. No glory runs. No unnecessary confrontations. Your mission is reconnaissance, infiltration, retrieval. Learn who they are now, not who they were on paper. Do not start wars you cannot finish."
A wet swallow ran through the ranks. The gravity of the task pressed on them like a cold hand.
Byzon: "If you succeed—if you return with proof and leverage—you will gain honors beyond rank. The supreme leader will know your names. Your status will be permanent. You will no longer be looked down upon."
He let a beat hang in the air—then sharpened his voice.
Byzon: "If you fail—if you are discovered or outmatched—do not expect mercy. You may die by the enemy's hand… or by the consequences of a mission gone wrong. This expedition will decide the future of our people. Choose your steps carefully."
A nervous chorus of gulps answered him. Faces that had been stoic before now betrayed fear—but also a hardening resolve.
Byzon closed the briefing. The hall's lights dimmed to operational amber. Outside, the archive servers hummed like sleeping beasts. Whatever waited beyond the abyss would not be met unprepared.
The Moryxils moved with careful precision. As their commander ordered, they advanced toward the human cities, cautious not to expose themselves.
Little did they know, humans were already locked in a brutal conflict among themselves—the Stellaris War. Some claimed it was a war for freedom, peace, and order. Others called it chaos, greed, and the lust for power. Even now, no one could say what the true purpose was.
Meanwhile, aboard the Aurelius patrol ship led by Harold…
Carlo:groans "Ugh!!… too much has happened these past few days—aliens that are pure black, entities I can't even explain, and then this war? I swear, my head's going to explode."
Noah:laughing "Hahaha, calm down, Carl. You sound like you've aged twenty years in one week."
Carlo:clenches fists "I'll kill those bastards! If I ever get the chance… no, I will get that chance someday."
Noah patted his friend's shoulder, trying to ease his fiery spirit.
Later, Sara appeared at the cockpit.
Sara:sighs "Are we there yet?"
Harold:serious tone "Yes, Sara. We've arrived at Moon Station. We'll proceed to headquarters after filing the patrol details."
Sara:nods "Alright."
As she walked down the corridor, she caught a glimpse of Harold's unusually quiet expression. Concern flickered across her face, but she decided not to press him—sometimes, even leaders needed space.
Harold busied himself filing patrol reports and resupplying the ship, while Carlo and Noah stepped outside, eager for fresh air after the horrors of war.
Noah: "Hey Carl, it's the last day of Christmas. Don't you want to buy something for your little sister back on Earth?"
Carlo:smiles, eyes lighting up "Of course! I could never forget my lovely sister."
Noah:teasing grin "And what about your crush, Fiona? winks She works somewhere around here."
Carlo:blushes, clearing his throat "Ahem… well, maybe I could. But… what if she's not interested in gifts?"
Noah:laughs loudly "Come on, buddy! At least give it a shot. This might be your golden chance."
Carlo thought about it, then nodded. "Why not?" After buying a present for his sister, he decided to see Fiona.
He walked the busy streets, clutching a bouquet and neatly wrapped gift.
Carlo:muttering to himself, nervous but excited "Would she… accept this? Maybe this time…"
But as he approached the café where she often worked, his heart froze. Fiona was there laughing, smiling… with another guy. Carlo's breath caught as he watched the man lean in and kiss her forehead.
When Fiona came out of the restaurant, Carlo approached her silently, his eyes avoiding hers. Without saying a word, he handed her the flowers and the small gift, his hand trembling slightly.
Fiona blinked in surprise, caught off guard by his sudden gesture. Before she could speak, Carlo gave a faint smile—half-broken, half-determined—and turned away.
She stood frozen, clutching the flowers close to her chest. A faint blush colored her cheeks as she whispered to herself, "Carlo…?"
But by then, he was already gone, disappearing into the crowd with heavy shoulders and an even heavier heart.
Later, back with Noah…
Carlo:sobbing into Noah's shoulder "Sob… huhuhu… why am I so unlucky, Noah? Sob…"
Noah:concerned but trying not to laugh "Whoa, hey, calm down man. What happened? Did she… reject you?"
Carlo:wiping tears, voice cracking "No… sob… somebody kissed her! Right there, in the cafe! Sob… huhuhu… she has a boyfriend!"
Noah:raises an eyebrow, hiding a smirk "Are you… sure it was her boyfriend?"
Carlo:sniffles angrily "Of course I'm sure! I saw it with my own eyes. Two eyes don't lie!"
Noah's face turned red as he fought to hold in laughter. Because what Carlo didn't know… was that Fiona wasn't being kissed by a boyfriend. That man was her cousin—Noah's older brother.
Noah hugged him tightly, whispering reassuringly.
Noah:chuckling under his breath "It's okay, buddy… it's okay. You'll understand… someday."
Hours later, the Aurelius crew gathered back at the patrol ship. The mood had shifted—lighter for some, heavier for others.
Harold stood at the bridge, his voice steady but tinged with exhaustion.Harold: "Ready the engines, Hary. We're heading back to Earth."
Hary: "As commanded, sir!"
The Aurelius lifted from the lunar station, its thrusters cutting through the silence of space.
But once they reached headquarters, the atmosphere was different. The news spread quickly—Sky Marshal Navion Pulsar, a six-star commander and one of humanity's most decorated heroes, was dead.
Whispers of disbelief rippled through the command halls. Some officers mourned quietly, while others questioned the reports entirely. Doubt thickened the air—were these alien sightings real? Or just convenient lies to hide something far worse?
Yet one truth was undeniable: the Aurelius' latest report would not be ignored. Their testimony of alien contact, if proven authentic, would shake not only Earth, but the entire Milky Way.
And in the shadow of that revelation, every soldier, officer, and leader knew—nothing would ever be the same again.