Thomas followed Darian through the narrow, quiet streets, the soft hum of the city around them. Despite the late hour, the streets felt strangely alive. The air was cool against Thomas' skin, but there was no real comfort in it. His mind was racing, filled with thoughts of his past, his powers, and the strange new reality he had found himself in.
They came to a small, modest flat tucked between two other buildings—nothing spectacular, nothing that would draw attention. A perfect place to lie low.
Darian pushed open the door, which creaked slightly, and motioned for Thomas to step inside. The place was bare—just a few pieces of furniture, a kitchen that was more functional than stylish, and a single bed pushed against the wall. It wasn't much, but it was a temporary refuge.
"Make yourself at home," Darian said, though there was a faint edge to his voice, as if the words didn't quite match the heaviness in his tone.
Thomas walked in, his footsteps slow, as if he were still processing everything that had happened. He glanced around the room, his gaze falling on the empty corners, the plain walls. There was nothing to ground him here, no memories to anchor him to this new reality.
Darian shut the door behind him with a soft thud and then turned to Thomas, his gaze unreadable.
"You're probably wondering why I know so much about Earth," Darian began, breaking the silence. "The truth is, I've been sent here a few times, when the King was still alive. He trusted me to keep an eye on some things."
Thomas's breath caught in his throat at the mention of the King—his father. The King. The very title was foreign to him, something that had never truly felt real. He had no memory of the man, no image of him in his mind.
"Your father was... kind, from what I remember," Darian continued, his voice softening. "He cared deeply for his people, especially for your mother."
Thomas's chest tightened. His father—he had never known him, but Darian's words held weight. What did he look like? Was he kind, like Darian said?
What about his mother?
He wanted to ask, but he didn't. He couldn't.
Instead, his mind drifted to his adoptive parents. The people who raised him. The people he had supposed to protect but ended up being hurt by him. His heart sank as he realized just how much he had betrayed them. They had taken him in when he had nothing, given him a home, but... he had turned away from them.
He had attacked his father. He had hurt them.
His fists clenched involuntarily at the thought, and he turned away from Darian, walking toward the small window in the flat. Outside, the streetlights cast a faint glow, illuminating the quiet street below.
"You know, I never even thought about what my real parents might have looked like," Thomas murmured, mostly to himself. "I never knew them, not really. I just... assumed they were gone. And I thought my adoptive parents were enough."
Darian stood still behind him, watching. He didn't speak for a while, as though waiting for Thomas to finish his thoughts. Finally, he spoke.
"It's not your fault," he said, his voice low but firm. "What happened, what's happening now, it's not on you. You didn't ask for this power. You didn't choose this life."
Thomas didn't turn around. "I didn't ask for any of it," he muttered, his voice filled with frustration.
Darian was silent for a long moment. Then, he moved closer, his tone softer. "I know. But you have to accept what you are, Thomas. You can't change what's already been set in motion. All we can do now is fight. For you. For your sister. For everyone who's been hurt because of Draxis."
The mention of Draxis—Thomas' uncle, the man who had killed the king and destroyed their family—sent a shiver through Thomas' body. He was still processing the fact that his life had been turned upside down by this one person. His own family.
"Draxis won't stop," Thomas said quietly, his voice bitter. "Not until he's got everything and got rid of all future threats."
"You're right," Darian said. "He won't stop until he has what he wants. But that's why we need to stay one step ahead of him. Keep moving. Don't let him find you. That's our best chance of surviving this."
Thomas exhaled deeply, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on him. He didn't know if he was ready for all of this, but he knew he didn't have a choice. He had no idea what the future held, but he would have to face it, whether he was ready or not.
"Do you think we can win?" Thomas asked, his voice heavy with doubt. "Can we really stop him?"
Darian didn't answer immediately. He took a deep breath, as though weighing his words carefully. Then, he spoke, his voice steady, resolute.
"We have to. There's no other option.".
Liora's eyes snapped open, the harsh light above her making her squint in confusion. Her head throbbed, her mind fuzzy as she tried to piece together what had happened. The last thing she remembered was walking through the woods, feeling strange and dizzy, then... nothing.
Now, she was here. The cold, metallic floor beneath her felt foreign, unnerving. She was inside some sort of cage—no, a cell. The bars were smooth, almost flawless, reflecting the dim light above. The cage around her was made of some kind of strange, shimmering metal that didn't look like anything she had ever seen. She gripped the bars, shaking them in a desperate attempt to escape. Nothing.
Her breath quickened, and she began to panic. This was all wrong. Where was she? Who had taken her?
She shook the bars harder, her heart pounding as she struggled to keep her composure. Her mind raced through countless scenarios—none of them good. The thought of being locked up like this, held against her will, caused a panic she hadn't felt before. Her family, her friends… What was happening to them?
Suddenly, she heard a loud, mechanical hum. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as the door to her cell slid open with a quiet hiss. Liora froze, her gaze snapping to the source of the noise.
A figure emerged from the shadows. At first, she couldn't quite make out what it was—it was tall, standing well over six feet, and its movements were smooth, calculated. As it stepped closer, she could see more clearly: a robot, but not like any she had seen before. This wasn't the usual humanoid type with synthetic skin or human-like features.
This robot was made entirely of steel—its body gleaming silver and hard as iron. The shape was humanoid, but its structure was angular and rough, its joints clinking with every movement. The face was a smooth, blank panel, with two glowing eyes embedded in its metal head, scanning the area. There were no human features—just sleek, cold, and mechanical.
As soon as the robot saw that she was awake, it approached her silently. Liora's heart raced, but she didn't have time to react before it reached out with its long, slender arms. With a click, the door to her cell was unlocked, and the robot grabbed her wrist with unnerving force.
Before Liora could even flinch, a sharp, metallic cuff clamped around her wrists. It was cold, unnaturally cold, and she felt an immediate surge of panic as it locked her into place. It hummed quietly, as if syncing with her body's natural energy.
"Follow me," the robot's voice was unexpectedly human-like, despite the metallic tone, as though spoken through a voice modulator.
Liora didn't hesitate. She wasn't sure if she could fight back—she had no idea where she was or who had taken her. But one thing was clear: she wanted out of this cage, away from this place.
She stood up slowly, her legs weak from the panic and confusion, but the urge to escape pushed her forward. She had no choice but to follow. The robot walked ahead of her with deliberate steps, and she did as instructed, her mind spinning with questions that didn't have answers.
The hall they walked down was wide, stretching into what looked like a massive, futuristic facility. The walls were lined with metal panels, glowing softly with unknown symbols that shifted as they passed. The air was cool and sterile, and the entire facility had an eerie, clinical feel to it, as though nothing here was designed to be welcoming. The floor was smooth, with small, flickering lights embedded into it, marking the path ahead.
As they walked, Liora saw the first signs of activity. There were other figures, human and robotic, moving through the halls, carrying out tasks. Some were standing at consoles, typing on glowing screens. Others were working at strange machines that hummed and whirred, machinery unlike anything Liora had ever seen. Metallic arms moved quickly and precisely, assembling what looked like small, high-tech devices—things that she couldn't even begin to recognize.
There were large containers filled with glowing liquids, massive, spherical chambers that looked like they could be holding something alive or incredibly dangerous. There were computers that took up entire walls, glowing screens flashing information too fast for Liora to make sense of.
It was all too much for her to absorb at once. Where was she? What kind of place was this? She had never seen technology like this before—it was almost like stepping into a different world.
Finally, they arrived at a large room, where the walls were made of opaque glass, revealing even more of the strange machines, some still whirring softly in the background. The robot motioned for her to stop as they entered the room, and then it approached a large console, where a man stood facing a massive, holographic screen.
The man was tall, with dark hair and a cold expression. His features were sharp, his eyes sharp and calculating, like he was used to giving orders and expecting obedience. As he turned slowly to face Liora, his eyes met hers. His gaze was piercing, assessing, and there was a strange calmness to him, as if he was in complete control of everything around him.
Liora felt a chill run down her spine. This man—who was he? And why had they brought her here?
The man didn't speak immediately, just continued to stare at her. The robot stood next to him, waiting silently, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.
Liora swallowed hard, trying to steady herself, her pulse hammering in her throat. She didn't know what was happening, but she knew one thing for sure.
She was far from safe...