The city of Kyoden-9 hummed like a dying circuit.
Blue neon veins flickered through towers that pierced the clouds, and streams of code poured through the streets like rivers of light. Somewhere in the storm, a single figure ran across a bridge of shifting pixels — a ninja wrapped in black armor streaked with violet light.
Tray.
Last survivor of the Shadow Grid.
Last child of a dying code.
The world around him was collapsing. Buildings melted into static, streets broke apart into shards of data, and the air screamed with distortion. He could see it — the Rift Code, a red virus crawling like wildfire through the Grid, rewriting everything it touched.
He sprinted across the bridge, clutching his Photon Katana, the blade phasing between solid and light.
Behind him, explosions tore through the skyline — silent bursts of code disintegrating reality.
> "Master! Where are you!?"
A figure appeared through the storm — tall, cloaked in a black kimono patterned with glowing runes. His face was calm, but his body shimmered with fading data.
"Tray…" The voice was deep, glitching at the edges. "You must go. The Shadow Grid is lost."
Tray's breath hitched. "No! We can fight it! We just need to—"
"Silence."
The Master's eyes burned gold. "The Four Kingdoms are the key. They hold the pure light. Find them… restore the balance."
A sound tore through the sky — a pulse cannon, loaded with Rift energy. The beam struck the bridge.
Tray was thrown backward as the Master's cloak ignited in red flame.
"Master!"
The old man smiled — calm even as his code disintegrated. "Courage is not the absence of fear… it's the will to act despite it."
He touched Tray's forehead, imprinting a glowing symbol — a green lion sigil — before dissolving into a burst of data particles.
Tray screamed as the bridge gave way beneath him. The world became light and static — falling, falling, falling—
Then silence.
---
When he opened his eyes, everything glowed green.
He lay in a jungle unlike anything from his world. The trees were alive — made of energy and fiber, pulsing with data. Birds of light soared overhead, their wings leaving trails of code in the sky.
He staggered to his feet, armor cracked but still running power. The green symbol on his wrist pulsed faintly.
> "Where… am I?"
The sound of rustling made him freeze.
Figures emerged from the mist — warriors in glowing green armor, carrying spears of light. They surrounded him with mechanical precision.
"Identify yourself!" barked the lead guard.
Tray raised his hands slowly, his voice steady. "I'm not your enemy."
"You carry no Kingdom code," the guard snapped, aiming a plasma spear. "That makes you a trespasser."
Before he could respond, a new voice cut through the tension — smooth, commanding, female.
"That won't be necessary."
The warriors parted.
She walked through them like the air belonged to her — armor trimmed with gold, eyes bright with data-fire. Her movements were precise but fluid, and for a moment, Tray forgot to breathe.
"I am Lyra, Captain of the Lion Guard," she said. "You're far from home, stranger."
Tray straightened, studying her stance. "And you're not from the Rift."
Her brow arched slightly. "You've seen the corruption?"
"I watched it consume everything I knew."
For a heartbeat, her eyes softened — then hardened again. "Then you have my attention."
Before more could be said, a roar split the jungle.
The ground trembled. A creature burst from the trees — a glitch-lion, body twisted by corrupted code, glowing veins of red running through its translucent skin.
Lyra drew her twin plasma spears. "He's yours to prove your worth," she said, spinning her weapons to life.
Tray smirked faintly. "You don't even know my name."
She stepped closer, eyes locking on his. "Then show me why I should."
The beast lunged. Tray leapt, blade igniting in a surge of violet light.
The jungle erupted in energy — blue and green colliding, neon sparks raining down like fireflies.
He landed hard, panting, as the creature dissolved into streams of clean data. Lyra lowered her spears, impressed despite herself.
"You fight like the storm," she said quietly.
Tray sheathed his blade, glancing up. "And you command it."
For the first time since his world burned, he felt something other than grief — a flicker of something alive.
And as the green light of the jungle reflected in Lyra's eyes, he realized his journey had only just begun.