"Li, I know you have many questions. Maybe not time for all answers. But I sent OOD transfer request—to planet called 'Wisdom Bank.' It far from Dark Borough, much safer. Still a learning place. Big wisdom house sits on banks of Forever Spring."
"Seriously, Tavo? Thank you so much!"
"Ha, thank me later—"
"Wait, out of duty? I didn't know Guardians could just… stop."
"Wisdom Bank needs Guardians. Kind of."
"Oh… that make more sense. How long will I stay there?"
"We talk later. Captain coming. Gear up."
…
The Guardians of the three crews gathered in the main holding chamber—the same place Li had passed through on his first night aboard the ship. From the balconies above, the chief's daughter and other non-Guardians watched in silence. In just two hours, the ship would land on Atramenth, and the mission would begin immediately.
Through the windows, Li observed the galaxy's darkness shifting as larger clumps of some ominous substance drifted past. The commanders' voices echoed around him, their words blending into a hollow repetition of orders—a rebriefing, a solemn warning.
…
"LINE ORDER! GRAVITY CHECK! SYSTEMS DISTRICT CHECK! REMEMBER YOUR TRAINING! WE TOUCH DOWN, WE CHECK IN WITH T88! TEN STANDARD MINUTES TO ADAPT—THEN WE DESCEND! I DON'T WANT TO LOSE ANYONE ON THE FIRST DAY!"
The ship trembled violently now. What had begun as an occasional jolt every five minutes had escalated into a relentless, bone-rattling quake, as if some unseen force was wrestling against their vessel.
A sickly purple mist slithered into view through the reinforced windows, appearing in fleeting, ghostly waves. Li exhaled sharply, feeling the suffocating isolation of his life-support suit sealing him in.
Final reconfigurations flashed across their helmets. Soon, the airlocks would open, and the first reinforcement squadron would step onto Atramenth's cursed soil. The warriors before him stood with the silent resolve of those who had already accepted their fate. For some, this would be their last mission.
Li shifted, stealing a glance around. Three rows ahead stood Naryssa, her stance unshaken. Directly before him, a massive, rodent-like Guardian loomed, deep scratches etched into the fur along the back of his head—a testament to countless battles. Li strained his neck, scanning for Aoki and Tavo, but they were nowhere to be seen.
A final alert blared through the comms.
"LANDING SEQUENCE CONFIRMED! ALL GUARDIANS—AT READY!"
The Guardians advanced toward the airlock, the heavy door sealing shut behind them with a slow, final hiss. Li cast one last glance over his shoulder—just in time to catch a glimpse of the chief's daughter standing on the balcony above.
For a fleeting moment, he thought he saw her crying.
That morning, they had embraced, stealing an hour together in the quiet before the storm. But now, as the cold grip of war settled over him, that hour felt painfully short. Not enough. Nowhere near enough.
The ship buckled violently, a sudden jolt that nearly sent Li to the floor. A warning klaxon blared. Then, with a deafening hiss, the airlock doors yawned open, unveiling the world beyond—a vast abyss of blackened stone, fractured and endless, bathed in the eerie pulse of flashing purple mist.
"DEPLOY, 5 KM STANDARD FORWARD!"
Li ran. Two hundred and fourteen feet struck the ground in unison, a relentless drumbeat against the dead stone beneath them.
The air was thick, pressing in on them like an unseen weight. Only the dim glow of the higher-ranking Guardians' helmet lights and the intermittent flashes of sickly purple lit their path, flickering like the last embers of a dying fire.
He stole a glance behind him. The airlock doors were shutting, cutting off the last tether to the world they had left behind.
As Li's eyes adjusted to the suffocating darkness, the silhouette of a colossal city emerged in the distance, its towering presence undeniable. Jagged spires and uneven structures jutted against the void, forming a skyline that was more a wound on the land than a beacon of civilization.
The intercom crackled with voices—Guardians murmuring, their words laced with an unexpected energy. A nervous, growing excitement, pushing them faster. They couldn't see much, but the city loomed ahead, an undeniable force drawing them in.
Then, flickering lights. Small, erratic, appearing and vanishing like dying embers swallowed by the dark. They were moving, scattered torches in the abyss.
Suddenly, a voice cut through the frequency, raw and strained, like a man who had once commanded but had long since been hollowed out.
"L98, is that you?!"
For a moment, silence. Then, the captain's reply, grim and certain.
"It's us, Gateguard."
A muffled shout. Then another. The faint sound of cheering.
…
At the foot of the worn gates, the warriors of T88 and L98 embraced. A collision of battered armor, of weary hands grasping shoulders—some in relief, others in disbelief. Li was pulled into the arms of someone he didn't know, someone he would likely never know. Yet, in that moment, none of it mattered. They clung to each other, as if the embrace alone could push back the inevitable.
Their ten-minute adaptation period—an insultingly brief window to reorient, to breathe—was all they would get. In that time, gifts were exchanged, old squadmates reunited, and weary laughter rang out like remnants of a past long lost.
Li observed it all in silence, sympathy settling like lead in his chest. These were men and women who had stood here long before him. How many had they welcomed like this before? How many had they lost after?
The communication wave was a chaos of shouts and overlapping voices, so Li shut it off, just for a moment. He let the noise fade, let himself stand in the eerie in-between—where they were still the celebrated reinforcements, still the heroes arriving in time.