The sky above Tartarus burned with eerie light, neither sun nor star, but the byproduct of a once-buried alien reactor now awakened by human hands. Power surged through the base like a heartbeat. Something ancient was stirring.
Rizer stood before the Assembly Hall’s stone altar, etched with battle scars, names of the fallen, and the oath of Tartarus engraved in six languages. The council had just made their decision.
A new mission. High-risk. High-stakes.
Infiltrate Gaia-9. Eliminate the threat. Bring back the children. Or die trying.
Arlow stepped forward, his voice hoarse with resolve. “You asked for warriors. I’ve given you ghosts.”
Six soldiers emerged from the shadows behind him.
Not regular recruits. These were Tartarus’ elite.
-
Commander Senn Varro, a towering juggernaut who once ripped a shuttle door off with his bare hands. A man built from bone and rage.
-
Nyra Vex, the ex-thief whose hands could pick a lock in the dark and slit a throat without breaking stride.
-
Kael Sarin, blind, but touched by psionic whispers, he saw the world in echoes of intent.
-
Dr. Roe, field medic turned tactical biochemist. Rumor was, he’d poisoned more Odryix than bullets ever could.
-
Tama and Ives, twins trained since birth to move as one. Ruthless. Silent. Soulbound.
And then, there was Rizer, not just the youngest, but the most feared. Not because of what he’d done. But because no one yet knew what he was capable of.
Not even him.
Aboard the Raven’s Fall, an off-grid shuttle outfitted for stealth, the team approached Gaia-9 from low orbit. Below, the colony blinked dimly beneath storm clouds, fractured domes, fractured people.
Rizer sat alone, staring at the leather bands around his wrist.
Kiera's bracelets.
Still glowing. Still warm.
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Elias had stayed behind this time. Training. Recovering. Growing stronger. But he had whispered one thing before Rizer left:
"I think your powers only break through… when your heart does first."
Rizer clenched his fists.
He wasn’t ready.
Gaia-9
They breached the outer shell under the cover of darkness and corruption. Nox’s soldiers didn’t scream when they died. They didn’t speak at all.
Senn cleaved through two at once with a war axe, laughing as blood sprayed the corridor. Nyra danced between them, blade spinning, her breath calm.
The children were deeper below. Underground chambers turned into indoctrination pods. Minds being rewritten. Truths unlearned.
Nox had turned Gaia-9 into a crucible, and its metal walls were beginning to heat.
They found him in the old education dome, standing at a podium smeared with red chalk. Behind him, a child sat bound, eyelids fluttering, mouth sewn shut.
“Rizer…” Nox turned slowly. “Have you come to learn?”
“You’re sick.”
“I’m free. Free of orders. Of rules. Of fear. Can you say the same?”
Nox pressed a hand to his chest. “The Odryix don’t fear death. They fear evolution. And we are evolving.”
A scream pierced the silence behind him. The child convulsed, then levitated off the floor.
No wires. No machines.
Psionic energy. Raw. Surging.
He was creating a new generation of psychic weapons.
But something was wrong. The child’s limbs twisted. Bones cracked. Blood sprayed across the walls.
Too much power.
Too fast.
The boy collapsed, silent.
Nox looked disappointed. “Still imperfect. But I’ll refine the method.”
Rizer moved without thinking.
But Nox was already gone, vanished into the collapsing tunnels beneath the dome.
They pursued him, deeper, faster, through smoke and flame.
Until they hit a wall.
Not rubble.
Roots.
Thick, blackened, twisting roots had erupted through the tunnels, pulsing with unnatural life. A wall of plant and flesh.
Kael stopped cold. “This isn’t Gaia-9 tech. This is… Earthborn. Hybrid.”
Underground Earth — Delta-37 Tunnels
Far below the surface of the old world, Adelpha Rae, Rizer’s grandmother, stood beside a massive vat pulsing with green light. Around her were engineers, children, and weathered survivors in cloaks made from recycled pod sails.
A machine loomed overhead, part life-support, part terraformer, part weapon.
“The Odryix harvest our life,” she said, voice low. “Then we’ll turn our decay into poison.”
An engineer stepped forward. “The root project is nearly ready.”
“Their roots were flesh,” Adelpha whispered. “Ours are fury.”
She looked down at a child drawing symbols on the dirt floor.
One of them was a paper plane. Cracked and burning. Beneath it, branches twisted like veins.
“The prophecy said a child of both blood and ash would lead the collapse.” Adelpha stared up, eyes gleaming.
“And my grandson just stepped into the fire.”
Back on Gaia-9
The roots trembled. Something ancient stirred.
And Rizer finally snapped.
A scream tore from his throat. Psionic energy exploded outward in a radius, vaporizing the root wall, collapsing steel and stone alike. His eyes blazed white. Every soldier in the room was knocked flat.
Dr. Roe gasped. “You did it… you broke the seal.”
Rizer fell to one knee, panting, sparks of light still crackling from his palms.
But he didn’t feel triumphant.
He felt… watched.
Because down the hallway, behind a shivering, flickering panel of flame—
Lord Ankura stepped from the shadows.
Tall. Calm. Smiling.
“You’ve grown,” he said, voice like thunder over a funeral drum. “Now show me what you are, boy. Or die like the others.”