The train slowed with a low, drawn-out hum, metal groaning as it aligned itself with the station platform. Nixxin felt the vibration through the soles of his shoes before the doors slid open. Cool, recycled air greeted them as the doors slid smoothly apart.
"This is it," Grandpa said quietly, his voice almost swallowed by the vastness of the station.
Nixxin stepped out beside him, eyes wide. The station was enormous—arched ceilings layered with softly glowing panels, clean white platforms that stretched farther than he could see. Holographic screens floated midair, showing arrivals, departures, and advertisements for apartments, schools, and commercial hubs. Everything gleamed. Everything functioned perfectly.
And yet… it felt empty.
Nixxin turned slowly. "Grandpa… where is everyone?"
Grandpa's brow furrowed. He glanced around, studying the few uniformed staff walking silently along the platforms. "Maybe it's just a slow hour," he said after a pause. But even his words sounded uncertain.
A man stepped off the train behind them, moving with the confidence of someone who belonged in the space he occupied. His coat was lined with subtle, glowing threads, perfectly tailored. His shoes made no sound against the polished floor.
He smiled. "It's always like this."
Grandpa straightened. "Always?"
"Always," the man said again, with a slight bow. "by the way my name is Welp."
Nixxin watched him carefully. There was something in the way he carried himself that made the station feel smaller and somehow alive again, despite the emptiness.
They found seats not far from the platform, and food was delivered by a hovering drone. Grandpa ate slowly, clearly still tired from the journey, while Welp sampled his meal casually, without urgency.
Nixxin fidgeted, curious. "Grandpa, who is he really?"
Grandpa finally answered after a long pause. "Someone… unusual. He's brilliant, that much I can tell. And very wealthy. But there's more to him than money."
"Like what?"
Grandpa smiled faintly, then shook his head. "We'll see."
After a few quiet bites, Grandpa spoke up. "You don't look like someone traveling for work."
Welp chuckled. "I'm not. I live here."
Grandpa's eyes widened slightly. "Here? On Proxima Centauri B?"
"Yes," Welp said simply, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Grandpa glanced again at the empty station. "Then forgive me… it doesn't feel very lively."
Welp's smile was calm, but there was a quiet edge behind it. "Most people don't stay. And that's what makes the emptiness… noticeable."
Grandpa nodded slowly. "I see."
"Finish eating," Welp said gently, leaning back. "I'll show the boy around."
Grandpa hesitated. "Nixxin—"
"I'll stay close," Welp said softly. "Promise."
Grandpa studied him for a long moment, eyes narrowing slightly. Then he nodded. "Don't wander too far."
Nixxin slid off his seat and followed Welp across the platform. They passed closed shops and vast hallways built for thousands. Nixxin's footsteps echoed sharply, sounding unnaturally loud in the silence.
Welp spoke casually. "You noticed the tattoo, didn't you?"
Nixxin lifted the back of his hand, showing the faint glow of his Blessed Mark. "This?"
Welp nodded. "Yes. Blessed and Depraved. Marks connected to higher forces. Yours shines because you're meant to face challenges that most people cannot."
Nixxin frowned. "Is it… dangerous?"
Welp shook his head. "Not if you understand it. It's not about harm—it's about choices. And how you respond to them."
Nixxin looked down at the faintly glowing mark on his hand, feeling a strange mix of pride and worry.
"There are also Altars," Welp continued. "Places where people are tested. Most only ever complete one in their lifetime."
"One?" Nixxin repeated, voice barely above a whisper.
"Yes. Even grown men, soldiers, leaders. One is usually enough to shape a life. Completing more than that… well, it's unusual. Rare. You might be one of the rare ones, Nixxin."
They stopped walking. At the center of the station stood a massive statue, its form perfect and deliberate. One hand reached forward, the other pressed against its chest. Its expression was determined, neither joyful nor sorrowful. At its base, glowing letters spelled:
PERSISTENT HOPE
Nixxin felt a strange pull, like the statue was watching him.
Welp watched him carefully. "This is an Altar."
Nixxin tilted his hand toward the statue. "It feels… heavy."
"That's normal," Welp said softly. "It asks a question without speaking."
"What question?"
Welp turned his gaze away, considering for a moment. "Whether you're willing to keep going when others do not. Whether you will act when no one is watching. Whether you can persist when the world feels empty."
Silence stretched between them.
Then Welp asked quietly, "Do you want a future, Nixxin?"
Nixxin did not hesitate. "Yes."
"Do you want challenges?" Welp pressed. "Not comfort. Not safety. Challenges that force you to grow."
Nixxin's mind flashed to the train, the Gates, Ardent, the Diligence Army. "Yes."
Welp nodded. "Then you may offer a part of yourself to the Altar."
Nixxin hesitated. "What… happens if I do?"
"You'll be bound to a task connected to this world," Welp said, his voice calm. "If you succeed, you'll gain another contract."
"Another?" Nixxin asked, eyebrows furrowing.
Welp smiled faintly. "Yes. One most men never receive. But," he added, "you won't know the full cost until later."
Nixxin glanced at the statue. "I want to be strong," he whispered. "Strong enough to choose."
The statue's surface shimmered faintly, and without pain or effort, a single drop of blood appeared on its base. The glow pulsed once, then faded.
Welp exhaled. "It's done."
Nixxin looked at his hand. "That's it?"
"For now," Welp said.
As they walked back to Grandpa, Nixxin noticed something again. "It's emptier than before. Almost no one here."
Welp nodded. "Most people have already left."
"Left where?" Nixxin asked.
"Anywhere else," Welp said simply.
They returned to Grandpa, then traveled through the city. Towering buildings lined the streets, all well-lit and fully operational. Automated traffic flowed in programmed lanes, yet the streets felt silent. Vast sections of the city were empty, abandoned.
Grandpa finally broke the silence. "Welp… why are you here? If the planet is emptying, why stay?"
Welp leaned against the glass of his skyscraper home, looking out at the quiet city. "Boredom, mostly," he said, almost dismissively. "I've done everything else. Built what I could, calculated the odds, perfected systems. Donated supplies, helped in evacuation areas… all because I can. But none of it is necessary. People leave anyway. I stay to see who remains."
Grandpa frowned, studying him. "That's… genius in its own way. You see more than most, understand patterns others don't… yet you're in the evacuation zones distributing food and supplies? Voluntarily?"
Welp shrugged. "Exactly. To understand. To observe. To test… curiosity. Even here, in an empty city, I can learn. And sometimes, curiosity is the only reason to stay alive in a place like this."
Grandpa shook his head slowly, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I can see why the city feels empty to most, yet alive to you. That's… remarkable."
Welp turned to Nixxin. "And you? Do you think you could handle this kind of emptiness? The kind that eats at people's will to stay?"
Nixxin felt his hand tighten. "I… I think I have to."
Welp's lips curved in a faint smile. "Good. Because persistence… that's what matters. The rest will follow."
Welp finally asked the question lingering in the air. "Nixxin… will he study here?"
Grandpa's voice was quiet but firm. "Yes. I cannot teach him everything. But here, he can learn… more."
Welp studied Nixxin, then turned back to the city lights. "Then perhaps this planet… still has a future. Not because of buildings, or streets, or government plans. But because of the few who choose to persist."