Tartarusios drifted through the endless dark, its colossal frame cutting silently between the stars like an ancient god wandering forgotten seas. Inside the control chamber, Youri stood before the immense viewport, his cloak hanging loose over his shoulders as the silver glow of distant systems reflected across his face. The stars stretched endlessly ahead, cold and beautiful, scattered through the void like fragments of shattered glass. Behind him the chamber hummed softly, alive with the steady rhythm of awakened engines and ancient systems working in perfect harmony.
Then the AI spoke.
"Initiating leap."
Its calm voice echoed through the vast chamber.
"Destination selected: closest habitable world, Antia."
Youri kept his eyes fixed on the stars.
"Antia?" he asked. "What kind of place is that?"
The AI responded immediately.
"Antia is the nearest inhabited planet matching your requested conditions."
Youri raised an eyebrow.
"And those conditions are?"
"Eating and drinking."
A smirk finally touched his lips.
"Well," he muttered, "at least someone on this ship knows what matters."
The AI continued.
"Antia possesses multiple settlements capable of providing nourishment, lodging, and recreational consumption."
Youri folded his arms.
"Antia it is then."
"Command acknowledged."
The control room dimmed.
Energy surged beneath the ship.
Outside the viewport, space warped.
Then—
Tartarusios leaped.
The stars collapsed into streaks of white and silver as reality folded around the vessel. The massive ship vanished from one region of space and emerged almost instantly within another.
The jump ended smoothly.
Youri steadied himself and looked ahead.
Antia awaited them.
The planet hung in space beneath a pale system sun, massive and weathered, its surface unlike anything he remembered from Terrian worlds. Vast gray-brown plains stretched across its surface, broken by jagged black mountain ranges and canyon systems so deep they appeared to swallow light itself. Scarred impact zones marked its crust like ancient wounds, while storms of dust moved slowly over barren lands.
It looked harsh.
Unforgiving.
And strangely beautiful.
The AI spoke again.
"Antia has no public orbital port available for a vessel of Tartarusios's classification."
Youri sighed.
"So we improvise."
"There is suitable landing terrain within the northern plains."
"Fine by me," he said. "Just don't land somewhere that requires walking half a continent. I don't feel like suffering for food."
"Command understood."
Tartarusios descended.
The ship entered Antia's atmosphere like a falling fortress. The hull groaned softly as layers of cloud and dust burned around it. Copper-colored skies emerged outside the viewport, casting warm bronze light over the control room.
The planet greeted them with wind.
Nothing but endless rocky terrain stretched beneath them—cracked plains, stone ridges, and dry crater fields scarred by ancient violence.
Then the ship found its landing point.
A giant impact crater.
The descent slowed.
Thrusters roared.
Dust exploded outward.
And Tartarusios settled onto Antia with enough weight to make the ground tremble.
Engines powered down.
Silence followed.
"You have arrived on Antia," said the AI.
Youri exhaled slowly.
"Finally."
He turned and walked toward the exit hall.
The corridors of Tartarusios still felt too large, too ancient, but he ignored the feeling. He reached the massive doors and stopped.
For a moment—
He simply stood there.
Taking a breath.
Then the doors opened.
Wind greeted him immediately.
Heavy and dry.
The powerful gust tore back the hood of his cloak and whipped his brown hair across his face, but Youri stepped forward anyway.
The world outside smelled of dust and stone.
Above him stretched Antia's copper sky.
And somewhere beyond the crater—
Civilization waited.
According to the AI, the nearest major settlement lay only several kilometers away.
Brussels.
So he walked.
The plains of Antia were harsh and uneven. Rocky formations jutted from the ground like broken teeth while deep fissures carved through the landscape. Ancient wreckage littered certain areas—half-buried machinery, forgotten transport hulls, and metallic skeletons devoured by time.
The wind never stopped.
It howled endlessly across the plains.
And yet—
Youri found himself enjoying it.
Hours passed.
By the time the settlement appeared, darkness had already crept across the sky.
Antia's twin moons hung overhead, pale and uneven, casting silver light over the land.
And there—
Resting between cliffs and scattered wreck-fields—
Lay Brussels.
The city looked improvised.
As though it had been stitched together through desperation and stubbornness alone.
Ancient shipwrecks formed its crooked skeleton. Broken frigates stood upright like rusted towers while gutted cargo haulers became apartment blocks and marketplaces. Massive hull sections fused together with scavenged steel and welded reinforcement created tangled streets and layered walkways suspended overhead.
But Brussels was not lifeless.
Far from it.
Warm lights glowed everywhere.
Among the wreckage stood enormous domes—arched shells of reinforced glass and carbon lattice scarred by years of storms. Their surfaces glimmered faintly beneath the moons.
Inside them lived entire worlds.
Markets.
Food stalls.
Repair shops.
Music.
Artificial sunlight.
The smell of cooked meat and machine oil mixed together in the air.
Youri walked deeper into the city.
People filled the streets—miners, scavengers, drifters, mechanics, mercenaries. Languages blended together beneath the hum of generators and distant engines.
Eventually—
He found what he needed.
The Rusted Halo.
The sign hung crooked above the entrance, glowing faint orange.
From the outside the place looked like the split-open carcass of an old frigate. Rusted plating covered the walls while patched metal sheets and exposed pipes gave it the appearance of surviving through pure spite.
Youri smirked.
Perfect.
He stepped inside.
Warmth hit him immediately.
The Rusted Halo was loud, crowded, and alive.
The bar itself had been built from a salvaged reactor casing cut in half and reinforced with polished scrap-steel. The surface carried countless scratches and etched names—apparently trophies left by survivors of the establishment's famous brawls.
Behind it stood shelves packed with bottles of every imaginable color.
Dark liquors.
Synthetic brews.
Fungi spirits.
And jars containing substances that looked vaguely illegal.
Youri approached and sat.
The bartender looked at him.
She was a broad-shouldered woman with a squared jaw and tired eyes. One eye remained natural while the other glowed faintly mechanical.
"What do you want?" she asked.
Before Youri answered—
A voice shouted across the room.
"Hey Marella!"
A drunken man waved from a nearby table.
"Another bottle!"
Marella rolled her eye.
"Over my dead body, Marvin. You haven't paid for the last one."
The man slammed his chair aside and stood.
He looked half drunk and entirely stupid.
"No drinks till you pay," Marella continued.
Marvin pulled a pistol.
The bar quieted.
"You bringing that fucking bottle," he growled, "or am I taking it?"
Marella snorted.
"Marvin," she said, "I swear I'll shove that pistol so far up your ass you'll cough bullets."
His face twisted.
"You bitch!"
He fired.
Glass exploded behind the counter.
Marella ducked.
Bottles shattered.
The room froze.
Marvin marched toward the bar.
And Youri—
Who had traveled between worlds, survived Tartarus, fought beside gods and monsters—
Took a long breath.
Then muttered:
"Fuck it."
As Marvin passed him, Youri grabbed his wrist.
The drunk spun around.
"Who the fuck are you!?"
Youri sighed.
"Buddy…"
He looked toward the bar.
"It's been ages since I had a proper drink."
He tightened his grip.
"I traveled across stars to get here."
His voice stayed calm.
"And you think I'm letting someone like you stand between me and that bitter fresh sensation?"
Marvin frowned.
"You picked a really bad time."
Then—
CRACK.
Youri twisted sideways.
Marvin's arm broke instantly.
The man screamed.
Before the scream fully escaped—
Youri punched him straight in the face.
The impact dropped him immediately.
Marvin hit the floor face-first.
Silence followed.
Then Marella slowly rose from behind the counter.
Shotgun in hand.
She stared at Marvin.
Then at Youri.
Then laughed.
"Damn," she said.
She set the gun down.
"You saved me a headache."
Reaching beneath the counter, she grabbed a glass and a bottle of gin.
She placed both in front of him.
"This one's on the house."
Youri looked at the drink.
Then at her.
Marella leaned on the counter.
"You may enjoy yourself…"
A grin crossed her face.
"…mysterious man."