The wind howled over the vast plain, biting, icy, charged with electricity. It bent the tall grasses and whipped Angel Aiger's blond locks against his face. The cold should have made him shiver... but he felt nothing.
Not the wind. Not the firm earth beneath his boots.
Only this invisible pressure, this force that crushed the air itself, so dense it seemed to solidify the atmosphere.
Before him, about thirty meters away, a man was floating.
He was levitating, hands in the pockets of a long black coat, as if walking on invisible ground.
But it wasn't his calm posture that chilled Angel.
It was his face.
The same amber complexion, the same blond hair, the same features Angel saw every morning in his mirror.
Except that this face... was empty.
Without warmth. Without emotion.
A human mask inhabited by something too ancient to belong to this world.
To his right, Yabal struggled to breathe, muscles tense, his hand clutching the hilt of his weapon.
To his left, Rhea, usually so sharp and ironic, stared at the figure with eyes wide with fear.
Even her lips, always ready with a biting remark, trembled without a sound.
The silence stretched.
Then Angel's copy, this being that could not exist spoke.
His voice was calm, almost weary, but it resonated as if the wind itself bent to his words.
— "So you've finally arrived here..."
His gaze swept slowly over the group, before stopping on Angel.
He wasn't looking at him: he was analyzing him, like one observes a rare insect under a lens.
— "I see. You want to know what I am?"
A slight shrug. A gesture of absolute arrogance.
— "Well... I am the king of this universe. Its creator."
A nervous laugh almost escaped Angel's throat, but no sound came out.
The words echoed in his skull, absurd.
Creator? King of the universe? It was insane.
And yet... everything in him screamed that this being was telling the truth.
— "I get the feeling you're going to get in my way," he resumed, his voice lower.
— "But I'm curious. I want to see what you'll do."
Then he turned away, ascending slowly into the sky as if climbing an invisible staircase.
With each step, the air vibrated, and silver reflections ran across his coat.
When he disappeared into the clouds, the wind stopped abruptly.
The world regained its weight, its silence.
Angel collapsed to his knees, gasping.
A drop of cold sweat slid down his temple.
— "What... what was that?" he stammered.
Yabal shook his head, still trembling.
— "That's... that's the first time I've ever felt that. I can't believe it. So that was him..."
His eyes shone, torn between fear and excitement.
— "In the old book I read, they called him the Anachronistic Being. I can't wait to learn more."
Rhea stood up slowly, exhaling sharply.
— "Whew... I want to talk to him too," she said with a small, nervous laugh. "He's the one I saw in my dream. He asked me to come here... why?"
Angel clenched his fists.
— "I want to know too. Why do I have a look-alike... damn it?!"
Yabal looked up at the gray sky.
— "Rhea, get the map. Tell us where we are."
She unfolded a large, luminous parchment, crossed with shifting symbols.
— "We are on the planet Saturn," she said after a moment. "On the great plain of Jamir. The inhabited areas are to the east."
— "And on one of the moons, Europe, there are human colonies."
— "The Saturnine City," she added, pointing to a golden marker. "It's the largest of the cities. Around it, we have Cavally, and other minor villages."
Yabal nodded.
— "Good. The local currency is the Rafia. We'll need to find some. But first, we'll make camp here for the night."
The Next Day
Saturn's sun rose like a pale sphere through a veil of silver rings.
Our three travelers had been walking for hours, advancing through a plain where nature defied all logic.
Trees 60 meters tall with translucent trunks seemed to absorb the light, only to release it in colorful pulses.
Winged newts, a kind of reptile with luminescent wings, soared into the sky, tracing spirals of sparks.
Lightning squirrels rubbed their paws together, producing small electrical discharges before darting into the branches.
Further on, a herd of crystalline cattle grazed peacefully, their hooves leaving traces of frost on the grass.
Angel watched it all, amazed despite his fatigue.
— "This world is crazy..."
Rhea smiled, her notebook in hand, noting every creature they passed.
— "And you haven't even seen the luminous pollen rains at night. They say they make dreams real for a few seconds."
Suddenly, the sound of heavy footsteps made the ground vibrate.
A young boy was approaching, mounted on a majestic animal: a Lionage.
The beast resembled a lion, but its white fur looked like condensed clouds, undulating slightly like living steam.
Its eyes, a pure, pupil-less blue, seemed to contain the entire sky.
Rhea raised her hand.
— "Hey, you!"
The boy turned his mount toward them and stopped a few meters away.
— "Hi," he said warily. "What are you doing here?"
— "We're travelers," Rhea replied calmly. "We're looking for the Saturnine City."
The boy's expression changed instantly.
He leaped off his mount, his expression hardening.
— "Travelers?"
His tone had become sharper.
Then, without warning, he raised his hand.
— "Hybrid Mode: Stormlion, Rising Tempest Form."
The air condensed around him.
A silver mist began to float, the atmosphere vibrating with an aerial energy.
His hair took on a white tint with blueish highlights, and small fragments of cloud began to gravite around his body.
His eyes, an incandescent blue-gray, seemed to reflect a sky before a storm.
Luminous symbols etched themselves onto his skin, shifting lines like air currents.
His voice, when he spoke, seemed to come from above.
— "I am Dan, a warrior of the Order of the Sky... and I am going to arrest you."
— "Huh?!" Yabal cried out. "But what did we—"
Too late.
A circle of mist descended from the clouds, enclosing the three companions in a translucent cylinder.
Inside, the wind began to swirl violently, blurring all perception.
The air became heavy, breathable only through a silver vapor controlled by Dan.
Storm Veil Prison.
A cage of air and mist.
Every breath becomes a thread, every movement, a struggle.
Rhea fell to her knees, suffocating.
Yabal growled, trying to break the invisible grip.
Angel, meanwhile, felt his own breath merging with that of their jailer.
Dan smiled, satisfied.
— "Hah. Travelers captured more easily than expected. The army of Spart will pay me well for this."
And on the windswept plain,
the three heroes of destiny had just been taken prisoner.