The world outside the pod window was dead silent. Nothing but the hum of oxygen cycling and Elias’s shallow, rattled breathing.

  Rizer didn’t move. He couldn’t.

  His mind replayed Kiera’s final look, her whisper, "Survive", and the wet red bloom that spread across her chest as that alien bastard lifted her like a trophy. Every instinct in him wanted to scream, to break open the pod and throw himself into space after her, even if it killed him. But it was too late.

  The launch had been irreversible.

  The pod was already cutting through the void, carrying them away from Earth and into blackness.

  Hours passed.

  Or maybe it was days. Neither of them spoke. The stars outside didn’t move, and the onboard systems had long since cut to emergency power. Rizer's tracker pinged occasionally, confirming vitals, but the rest of the control screen was a dim flicker.

  Elias curled into him, face wet with tears that had long since dried on Rizer’s shirt. He hadn’t asked where Kiera was. He knew. His silence was louder than any scream could have been.

  And then—

  BEEP. BEEP. A sudden red light flashed.

  “Proximity Alert.”The mechanical voice rattled through the speaker.“Impact in 00:02:46.”

  "What the hell?" Rizer snapped upright. He scrambled to the viewport, and there it was.

  A planet. Grey. Dark. Wounded.This was Tartarus.

  Pockmarked with craters and scarred by centuries of warfare, the planet looked like a burnt-out skull left in the dark too long. Scattered lights flickered across parts of it, signs of life, or death, he didn’t know.

  “Hold on to me,” he whispered, grabbing Elias and securing the last of the straps.

  The pod shook violently as it hit the upper atmosphere. Flames licked the edges of the window. The world became vibration and heat, the hull screaming around them like metal mourning the dead.

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  CRASH.

  They hit ground hard—skidded—rolled—then slammed to a stop upside-down in a canyon of black rock.

  Silence again. Except for Elias groaning and Rizer breathing.

  They were alive.

  It took hours to pry the emergency hatch open. Rizer's hands bled from the effort. Eventually, a beam of cold grey light sliced through the dark cabin.

  He pushed it up. Sand poured in, coarse and black like powdered ash.

  Tartarus greeted them with wind that hissed like a whispering curse. The air was thin, colder than ice, and reeked faintly of decay.

  He pulled Elias out, and together they stumbled into the canyon, surrounded by jagged cliffs. The sky above was a dull green-grey haze, no sun, no stars. Just… smoke.

  Suddenly, a shout was heard.

  "CONTACT! TWO—MAYBE THREE—CHILDREN!"

  Figures appeared over the ridge. Human silhouettes. Armed.

  “Don’t shoot!” Rizer yelled hoarsely, shielding Elias.

  The figures rushed down. Uniformed. Armored, but not Odryix.

  Human.

  The first one reached them and pulled off his helmet. A woman. Scarred face, eyes sharp, early forties. She looked them both up and down.

  "You’re from Earth," she said flatly. “I can tell by the look in your eyes. Welcome to Tartarus.”

  Rizer nearly collapsed. Someone caught Elias before he fell. Relief turned to exhaustion.

  They were taken underground, into a system of reinforced bunkers carved into the canyon walls. Fires flickered. The scent of oil, sweat, and metal filled the tunnels.

  Hundreds of survivors .All of them changed. Harder. Sharper.

  Some were adults. Most were teens, scraped together from different districts. Their eyes didn’t blink too often. Their hands never wandered far from weapons.

  They’d built a base here. Makeshift, but functional. Tightly structured. And everyone was training.

  Later that night, after a bland protein meal and a quick med scan, Rizer sat beside Elias, who was curled in a cot beside him.

  He looked around the barracks. Rusted metal. Children cleaning guns. A mural on one cracked wall, a painted tree. The roots wound down through caves, and in the center, a glowing red heart.

  Hope, someone had scrawled above it. But buried.

  A commander approached.

  He was tall, dark-skinned, and had a mechanical arm from elbow down. “Name’s Commander Venn,” he said. “You both survived something no one should’ve. That earns respect. But here, everyone pulls weight. No exceptions.”

  Rizer nodded. “We’ll fight.”

  Venn looked him over. “Yeah. I believe that. You’ve got something in your blood.”

  The commander left without explanation.

  But it lingered in Rizer’s mind.

  Something in your blood…

  He looked down at the bracelet on his wrist. Kiera’s. Still glowing faintly.

  Then at Elias. His brother stirred in his sleep, muttering something incoherent, but Rizer swore he saw the flicker of light pulse from the boy’s fingertips.

  Like static. Like something waiting to wake.