Two months.
Sixty days had passed since the catastrophic collapse of the gigantic Moving Planet—sixty days since the heavens themselves had torn open, and the absolute limits of human and cosmic endurance had been pushed to the absolute edge.
XENOCIDES HEAD QUARTERS:
In the centre of the room stood the towering, formidable silhouette of Dock Von, the leader of the entire Xenocides organization.
His piercing eyes swept across the tiered rows of seating where the surviving captains and vice captains had gathered. To his right, standing as the undisputed second-in-command of the entire organization, stood Zane.
Dock Von rested his heavy hands on the central console, leaning forward as his deep voice echoed across the silent room.
"I've looked over the final reports from the war on the Moving Planet, and frankly, the numbers are both surprising and unbelievable," Dock Von stated, his tone grave. "Every single Xenocides squad, every division that deployed into that planet, managed to return. Not a single company was left behind. I still honestly couldn't wrap my head around what actually happened out there."
All eyes in the room subtly shifted toward Zane, who remained silent, his arms crossed over his chest, staring blankly at the floor.
Dock Von paced slowly around the central holo-table, his brow furrowing as he brought up the next data point. "Let's keep that miracle aside, there is something far more disturbing keeping me up at night."
The leader stopped, casting a serious look around the room.
"Since you all left, fought, and came back, we haven't had a single Zethrian attack. Not even a sighting. It's entirely, unnaturally odd."
The silence in the command room broke instantly as murmurs rippled through the tiers. The captains and vice captains exchanged uneasy glances.
Reid Gedion Swallow, captain of the 1st Division, leaned back in his seat. His sharp eyes narrowed. "Vanished? Completely? That doesn't sound like the Zethrians at all. They don't just pack up and retreat into the dark."
"Yeah you're right, but could it be they left during the war on Malkor world It's highly possible.," Kylo, the 1st Division vice captain, pointed out, his voice sharp and analytical.
Across the table, Liora, captain of the 2nd Division, crossed her arms. "That's not possible, their probably planning something,they had an opportunity to attack but didn't something big is about to happen I can feel it"
Her vice captain, Cryo, adjusted his collar, his expression cold and brooding. "I agree captain, it might be true so we should be prepared for anything."
"Let them try," Lady Ness, the elegant yet lethal captain of the 3rd Division, purred softly, a dangerous smile playing on her lips. "If the Zethrians want a round two, my division is more than ready to show them what happens when you disturb our peace. Though, I'm more interested in the gossip coming out of the medical wing than ghost stories about the zethrians."
Her vice captain, Tessa Sol, nodded in agreement, flicking a strand of hair over her shoulder. "She's not wrong. Everyone's talking about the xenocide. Specifically, the one they brought back from the brink of total annihilation."
That comment shifted the entire gravity of the room. The conversation instantly pivoted from intergalactic politics to the elephant in the room: Elias.
Zarek Solis, the captain of the 4th Division.
"You mean the boy who went toe-to-toe with Malkor? Ha! Talk about unbelievable. He's evolved twice in the fight even brought Malkor to he's knee".
Beside him, his vice captain, Zorin Lyx, let out a low whistle, shaking his head. "It wasn't just an evolution, Zarek. That boy reached a state of true awakening. I watched him move so fast , it's like he wasn't even there. To take down a monster like Malkor and leave him crawling in the dirt... that's the kind of raw power that redefines the laws of our universe."
"Power is one thing, Zorin, but the psychological toll is another," Zainab Virel, the captain of the 5th Division, chimed in, adjusting her glasses. "Reports from the field medics said when he came back, his body was completely spent, and his mind was locked in a feral, destructive psychosis. He didn't even recognize his own team. He attacked Zane right after the battle ended."
Her vice captain, Temi Nova, winced slightly at the memory. " He must have really been in pain.."
Zarek Myron, the of the 6th Division, crossed his arms, his expression unreadable. "Vengeance is a double-edged sword. You can also be cut by the sword if not used properly. But it's looks like Elias was cut by the sword."
"Give the kid a break," Arix Calder, the 6th Division vice captain, interjected defensively. "I don't know much but watching the fight, he was in pain , you can't blame him for what happened ".
Lenny D Mic, the eccentric captain of the 7th Division, strummed his fingers rhythmically against his desk. "Oh, the drama of it all! Tragedy, evolution, blood, and brotherhood! It's like an ancient epic poem played out in real-time. But Arix is right. Whether we like it or not, Elias and his crew are tied to the future of the Xenocides now. If he wakes up, the power dynamic in this universe shifts permanently."
His vice captain, J J (Jane Jorren), nodded quietly. "And let's not forget Tyson holding the line and pulling them out, or Zane risking his life to neutralize the core. It was a collective miracle we even made it back."
Torin Kez, captain of the 8th Division, grunted from the back of the room. "Miracle or not, we have a massive problem. We need to know if Elias is weaponizable or a liability."
His vice captain, Alina Icter, shook her head. "He's neither, Torin. He's a survivor. And right now, he's just a kid whose body is trying to stitch itself back together."
From the shadowy corner of the briefing room, Shadow, the elusive 9th Division captain, finally spoke up, his voice sounding like a whisper carried on a cold wind. "Let him sleep. The dead have claimed their dues, and the living must recover. If the Zethrians are quiet, it means they are terrified. And they have every right to be."
His vice captain, Dr. D, pushed up his medical visor, tapping a diagnostic pad. "From a biological standpoint, Elias's regeneration is a medical anomaly. He used up all he's evo-energy till the point of death. It's a miracle he's even breathing."
Finally, Drakye Void, the lone captain of the 10th Division . "Elias is a member of the 10th division and everything that happened is my fault as a captain I should have been more observant ".
The room fell dead silent once more. All eyes turned where on drakye.
Zane slowly raised his head.
"It's not your fault drakye, it's not your fault at all,
Sir von if that's all for today I say we round up ".
Dock Von nodded slowly, accepting the answer. "Very well. Meeting adjourned. Keep your divisions on high alert across all border sectors. Dismissed."
Meanwhile, in the Xenocides Central Medical Wing, the air smelled of antiseptic and ozone.
The room was bathed in a soft, dim light designed to soothe recovering neural pathways.
Elias stirred.
His eyelids fluttered, heavy and uncooperative, fighting against the crushing weight of exhaustion. Slowly, painfully, his consciousness clawed its way back from the dark void of sleep.
His chest rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm. The acute, burning agony of the true evolution was gone, replaced by a dull, aching soreness in every muscle and bone.
Elias blinked open his eyes.
The first thing that came into focus was a stark white ceiling. Then, the hum of life-support monitors chiming softly beside his bed.
He turned his head slowly to the side. Sitting on a small metal table next to the medical berth was a vase filled with vibrant, alien wildflowers—petals of deep azure and soft silver. Resting against the vase was a small, handwritten note scrawled in Tyson's messy handwriting: 'Glad you're not dead. Wake up soon, idiot.'
And others from he's friends.
Elias stared at the flowers for a long, quiet moment. The sterile smell of the hospital, the steady rhythmic beep of the monitors, the physical reality of his breathing chest.
A profound, disorienting wave of confusion washed over him.
"Was it... all a dream?" Elias whispered, his voice raspy and dry from weeks of disuse.
He pushed himself up slightly on one elbow, wincing as a sharp twinge of pain shot through his shoulder—right where his teeth had sunk into Zane's flesh during that terrible, feral blur. The memory hit him like a physical blow, crashing through the haze of his awakening.
It wasn't a dream.
His eyes widened as the horrific realization flooded back: the battle, the slaughter, Malkor's terror, Zane's arrival, the atomic erasure, and his own blind, monstrous attack on his own flesh and blood.
Elias looked around the empty room, his heart suddenly hammering against his ribs in a panic.
"It's not a dream..." he choked out, his voice trembling as fresh tears welled up in his eyes, spilling hot and fast down his pale cheeks.