Chapter 3: The Alien in the Restaurant
The rain had finally stopped falling over Junksyke, but the city still carried its weight like a tired beast. The air was heavy with the smell of gasoline, smoke, and wet iron. Neon lights bled across the cracked sidewalks, painting everyone who passed in shifting shades of blue, red, and green.
Moro walked ahead, his shoulders tense, his mind replaying Kaya's blade inches from his throat earlier that night. Kaya followed just behind him, arms crossed, her eyes sharp as though she still didn't trust her own decision.
They had fought to a standstill, and yet here they were, traveling together.
"You could've killed me," Moro muttered, finally breaking the silence. His voice was calm, but his eyes remained fixed ahead.
Kaya's footsteps slowed. "I could've."
"So why didn't you?" Moro pressed.
Kaya exhaled, her sharp gaze softening. "Because I've spent years following orders… and for the first time, I wanted to make a choice. And when I looked at you—really looked—I saw someone who wasn't afraid to stand alone against the entire world."
Her words lingered. For a moment, the restless noise of Junksyke seemed to fade.
Moro glanced over his shoulder, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "So what now? You gonna betray CD-9 and just… tag along with me?"
"I'm not betraying anyone," Kaya said firmly. "I'm freeing myself. And if that means standing with you, then so be it."
Moro chuckled under his breath. "Guess we're partners now."
The unspoken bond between them was fragile, like a spark that could die with the wind—or grow into fire.
After weaving through alleyways, they arrived at a crooked neon sign barely clinging to life. It flickered in faint pink letters:
"Aiyan's Diner – Food of All Worlds."
Kaya frowned. "This is it?"
Moro's expression shifted. "Yeah. If anyone knows what my father was after… it's him."
They pushed open the creaking door. Inside, the diner smelled of spice, roasted meat, and something else—something alien. The place was dimly lit, tables half-empty, shadows stretching unnaturally long across the walls.
Behind the counter stood a man—or what appeared to be one. His figure was tall, his posture relaxed. His skin carried a faint glow that shimmered as though it couldn't decide what color it wanted to be. His eyes were molten amber, constantly shifting, constantly alive.
He looked up the moment Moro entered. A grin slid across his face, sharp but not unfriendly.
"Moro… I was wondering when you'd come."
Moro stiffened. "You know me?"
"I know more than you think," Aiyan replied, his voice carrying an odd, musical cadence. "Your father spoke of you often."
Moro's chest tightened at the mention.
"You… knew Jara Jama?"
Aiyan's smile widened. "Knew him? He saved my life once. He saved this world more than once. And if you carry his fire… then you have much to live up to."
But before Moro could respond, Aiyan's body rippled like liquid metal. His form expanded, limbs elongating. In seconds, he was no longer a man but a towering creature with shifting features—horns, claws, wings—never settling on one shape for more than a breath.
Kaya reached for her sword, her stance rigid. "What the hell—"
"If you want answers," Aiyan's distorted voice boomed, "then prove you're worthy of them."
He lunged forward.
The strike was so fast Moro barely reacted. He rolled aside, the floorboards cracking as Aiyan's claw gouged the wood. Tables split like matchsticks. The whole diner shook.
Moro's aura flared instinctively, the Matrix within him glowing blue across his skin. "You're insane!" he shouted, charging back. His punch connected with Aiyan's chest, sending ripples across the alien's body.
Aiyan laughed, twisting midair into a hulking beast with four arms. "Good! Don't just fight me—show me your soul!"
The clash tore the diner apart. Chairs exploded against the walls, glass shattered into storms of fragments. Aiyan's shapeshifting gave him an endless variety of attacks—talons one second, blades the next, then monstrous fists heavy as hammers. Moro fought back with raw determination, guided by the Matrix. His movements grew sharper, his strikes heavier, blue light bleeding off his fists like lightning.
Kaya's hand hovered over her blade, torn between stepping in and letting Moro prove himself.
Finally, after a brutal exchange, Moro roared and slammed a blazing strike into Aiyan's chest. The impact cracked the wall, shaking dust from the ceiling.
Aiyan absorbed the blow, his monstrous form shuddering. Then, slowly, his body shimmered back into its humanoid state. His chest rose and fell, but his grin never faltered.
"Not bad, boy. Not bad at all." He dusted himself off like nothing had happened. "You carry the Matrix well. But you're still raw. Still green."
Moro scowled, wiping sweat from his brow. "You could've just asked me to spar. No need to wreck your own restaurant."
Aiyan chuckled, his amber eyes glowing brighter. "Would you have believed me if I said you were strong enough? Strength isn't told—it's proven."
Kaya stepped forward, glaring at him. "Enough of your games. We didn't come here for a fight. We came for answers."
Aiyan's smile softened. "And you'll have them. Sit. Eat. Listen. I'll tell you what I know about your father, the Matrix… and the storm that's already moving toward us."
Moro hesitated, his heartbeat slowing from the fight. The thought of hearing about Jara Jama again—anything about him—was enough to anchor his resolve.
But outside, far from the glow of the diner's neon lights, two figures stood on a rooftop, their silhouettes razor-sharp against the moon. Their presence was suffocating, their movements perfectly synchronized.
The Asura Twins—Kizen and Kazen—watched silently as Moro entered Aiyan's world.
"Targets located," one whispered, his voice cold as steel.
The other only smiled.
The hunt had begun.