The void was silent.
Not the peaceful kind of silence—this was the kind that pressed against the mind, vast and suffocating, the kind that made even gods feel small.
Then space tore.
A soundless explosion blossomed in the dark expanse, light rippling outward like a wound opening in reality itself. On the surface of Earth's moon, hell had already arrived.
Lasers stitched crimson scars across the ash-gray ground. Bolts of plasma screamed through the vacuum, detonating in violent bursts that hurled regolith and shattered bodies into slow, drifting arcs. Armored soldiers surged forward in disciplined waves, their boots crushing lunar dust as they charged headlong into an endless tide of monsters.
Just a few kilometers above the moon hung a colossal structure—an inverted pyramid, three times the moon's size, its surface black and jagged, like obsidian grown rather than forged. From its hollow underside poured the swarm.
They came in impossible numbers.
Creatures of twisted flesh and alien geometry, each unique yet unified by a single horrifying trait: their upper heads split outward in a grotesque mushroom shape, fungal plates unfolding like a blasphemous crown. Their design was a fusion of nightmare and plague—petaled skulls reminiscent of lotus patterns, veined and pulsing, interwoven with rot-like tendrils and spore-textured flesh. Some skittered on too many limbs, others floated, others lumbered forward with brutish mass, but all of them screamed without sound as they fell upon humanity's defenders.
The moon became a slaughterhouse.
Soldiers were torn apart mid-charge, armor ripped open like foil as claws and tendrils punched through chests. Blood—bright red and oxygen-starved dark—burst into spheres that drifted and froze instantly. Limbs spun away, fingers still twitching. Plasma fire reduced entire clusters of the swarm to burning slag, yet for every creature that fell, ten more poured from the triangle above.
Then space itself shuddered again.
Another soundless boom rippled across the solar system as multiple inverted pyramid structures tore out of hyperspace, snapping into existence just kilometers from the planets. Across every moon—Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Neptune—the same carnage unfolded simultaneously. Humanity's last line of defense burned on every front.
From the structures emerged not only the swarm, but fleets.
Sleek, predatory ships surged forward in waves, attempting to break past the moons and descend toward the planets below. They were intercepted by smaller craft—dragonfly-shaped fighters that moved with terrifying agility. Their wings flared with energy as they fired relentlessly, releasing swarms of miniature deployment pods that slammed into lunar surfaces and burst open, unleashing reinforcements to support the ground troops.
War consumed the heavens.
Then two lights crossed the battlefield.
One blue.
One deep, violent purple.
They moved so fast they carved glowing scars through space itself, colliding again and again in flashes that mimicked stars being born and dying in an instant. Each clash sent invisible shockwaves rippling outward, distorting debris, ships, and bodies alike.
After one such collision, the blue streak shot forward with unstoppable momentum, tearing through multiple pyramids structures. Explosions crawled across their surfaces like fire eating paper, chunks of alien metal shearing away and drifting into the void.
Unable to stop, the blue light slammed into Earth's moon, scraping violently along its edge. A canyon was carved into the lunar surface, kilometers long, vaporizing swarm and soldiers alike in a single, indiscriminate sweep.
Then the blue streak fell.
It plunged into Earth's atmosphere like a falling god.
Fire roared around it, a blazing comet ripping through the sky. The heat of reentry did nothing to the figure within. As the flames peeled away, the blue light resolved into a man.
A human.
Dark-skinned. Pure white dreadlocks streamed behind him like banners of war, untouched by the inferno. He wore only white pants, torn and stained with blood, and upon his head rested a golden circlet—four sharp points rising from its band, glowing faintly with power.
[ Sir! Sir? Sir please wake up, sir can you hear me]
The circlet pulsed with light as a female voice echoed from it.
The man's eyes opened.
They were a brilliant, impossible light blue.
Wind screamed past his ears as gravity reclaimed him.
[ Thank goodness youre alright sir, sir youre badly hurt. It's highly unadvised to continue this battle]
He chuckled.
Immediately regretted it.
Pain tore through his body as he moved his arm to clutch his left side, fingers sinking into slick warmth. Blood poured freely, torn from a wound that should not have existed in any living being.
Before he could stabilize himself, the ground rose to meet him.
He crashed into a mountain.
The impact detonated an avalanche, snow and stone cascading downward in a roaring white tide. When the dust finally cleared, the man lay embedded in shattered rock.
He pushed himself upright slowly.
Below his left pectoral, where his heart should have been, was a massive hole. Flesh torn away. Bone shattered. Blood streamed down his side in thick sheets.
If he had been human in the normal sense, he would already be dead—yet he chuckled.
[ Sir this isn't funny, regeneration has slowed, your Àse reserves are extremely low. Our backup energy reserves are also running dry, the nanobots are running on scraps, we basically have no way of healing-]
Her words cut off as his chuckle deepened, twisting into a low, malevolent laugh. He coughed, spraying blood onto the snow, his body protesting every movement.
"Have you finally lost your mind human?"
The laughter stopped.
He looked up.
His opponent hovered above the mountain.
The being was dark-skinned, humanoid in shape, but nothing about him was truly human. His body was tall and elegantly built, every line sharp and deliberate, as if sculpted rather than born. Plates of smooth, obsidian-like armor fused seamlessly with his flesh, etched with glowing sigils that pulsed in time with his energy.
A mane of flowing, metallic hair framed a face that was undeniably handsome—angular jaw, high cheekbones—but utterly alien. His presence bent the air around him.
Purple energy wrapped his form like a living storm, arcs of electricity snapping across his limbs.
But it was his eyes that commanded terror.
Heterochromic.
One gold.
One deep blue.
The man didn't answer.
Instead, he looked past him.
Through space.
He saw the battlefield.
Humanity's last soldiers locked in chaotic war against the swarm and their elite forces. Men and women fighting with everything they had, defending the nine planets they called home. Fighting knowing that if they fell here, their families would be delivered into the hands of monsters.
This was it.
Humanity's last stand.
He turned his gaze further, watching streaks of light—his comrades—zipping through space, burning themselves out in desperate acts of defiance.
If they could give everything…
Who was he to give up?
Who was he to surrender because he was bleeding out?
This was his home.
Resolve hardened his expression.
"Charon, do you see what I see"
[ ....Sir?]
"Up there are our people fighting, they stand defending our home with all they have, my teammates, my friends... my love even"
He glanced at his arms. Only fragments of silver armor remained, broken sleeves clinging uselessly to his shoulders. His back plating was gone entirely, shattered earlier in the fight.
"I won't give up here Charon, as my people burn with the indomitable human spirit. I also must burn brighter"
Blue Àse erupted around him.
Heat radiated outward, melting the blood-soaked snow into steam as he levitated.
"I mustn't fail them, this is our last stand Charon, so I urge you, activate the "rebirth protocol ""
Silence.
The Zion watched, unhurried.
ZING!
A blur passed his face.
Blood—dark purple—dripped from a shallow cut on his cheek. It healed instantly as the Zion ran a finger across the wound.
"If that was your plan of attack then I'll be highly disappointed"
"What the hell are you talking about, i was just calling my weapon, cant charge at you with my bare fists alone now can I?"
The man spoke as his summoned glaive landed in his hands—beautiful, lethal, chipped from earlier battles.
[ Understood sir, "Rebirth protocol" activated,..... good luck sir]
The voice from the circlet faded, understanding her master's choice.
Energy surged.
The Zion felt it immediately.
The buildup was wrong.
Too dense. Too concentrated.
Was this a final attack? A suicide technique?
No.
They were on his home planet. A release of that magnitude would annihilate the entire solar system—everything he claimed to protect.
Then what?
He shoved the thought aside and took a fighting stance. Weapons materialized in his hands—two massive purple rings humming with power.
Then they vanished.
Their clash tore the sky apart.
Shockwaves flattened clouds for kilometers. The man twisted mid-air, glaive crashing down in a blue arc, only for the Zion to parry with screaming rings. Blows traded faster than thought—metal on energy, fist on flesh, bone cracking audibly.
The man kicked out, Àse detonating through his leg, launching the Zion kilometers upward.
They met again.
The planet suffered.
Mountains split. Glaciers vaporized. The Zion's ring returned like a guided missile, locking onto the glaive and wrenching it aside. A kick sent the man crashing back into the mountain.
He answered with spinning fury.
The mountain died.
Everest was cleaved apart, its peak sliding into the earth in a screaming avalanche of destruction.
They erupted into space.
Inside a pyramid structure.
Soldiers ran.
Too slow.
The structure was annihilated in seconds—fire, metal, bodies reduced to drifting debris.
Blue energy roared.
Purple answered.
A ring expanded, swallowing the blast and redirecting it—its exit blooming kilometres away as one of Jupiter's moons was erased from existence.
And yet, something was wrong.
The human was bleeding.
His organs were exposed.
Yet he wasn't healing—despite the vast amount of Àse building within him.
Why?
The Zion's thoughts raced.
Just moments ago, the human's reserves had been nearly empty.
Then where was this Àse coming from?
A contract?
If so, what was the cost?
Why gather so much power and not use it?
The human was stronger—but not enough to justify this buildup.
Not reinforcing his body.
Not amplifying his strikes.
Not healing.
Just storing.
The realization gnawed at him.
What was he planning?
They burst through another triangular structure.
That was when the Zion saw it.
The human was smiling.
As if he could read his thoughts.
As if he knew fear had finally crept in.
Then memory struck like a blade.
Rebirth protocol.
A premonition screamed through him.
"Too late"
The Zion went all out.
In a single, flawless motion, he beheaded the human.
The head flew—
Still smiling.
Light consumed everything.
The Zion felt his body split.
Glitch.
Then—
Nothing.
The truth came too late.
The energy was never meant for healing.
It was meant for something else.
Light swallowed everything.