The hallways of the Galactic Federation were quieter than usual cold, silent, almost like a tomb. The war had left scars here too, not just on bodies, but on walls, on morale, on the very air that used to buzz with ambition. Now, every corridor whispered of failure and unanswered questions.
Kaizu walked slowly, every step a silent protest against the pain that pulsed through his healing body. Most high-ranking officials used hover-chairs or private tunnels to move through the massive headquarters. But not Kaizu. Never Kaizu.
"Pain reminds me I'm alive," he'd once said. And that belief hadn't changed.
Skye walked beside him, her steps quiet, her sling-swaddled arm pressed close to her body. For a moment, it felt like old times like cadets sneaking through the halls, stealing food and stories.
"Remember when we got lost in this wing during training?" Skye asked, glancing at him with a half-smile.
Kaizu's lips almost curved. "You cried."
"I was sixteen," she protested.
"And I carried you past six security gates before anyone noticed," he added dryly.
They both chuckled, but the moment passed quickly. The hallway turned colder, quieter. As they approached the Science Department, the lights dimmed into an eerie blue glow, casting long shadows on the walls.
The sliding lab doors opened with a low hiss, revealing a cavernous room pulsing with strange energy. The ceiling was high, lined with hanging cables and dim screens. Holographic projectors lit up the space in bursts of symbols, some in languages only machines could read. Towers of data processors hummed like nervous whispers. At the center, surrounded by coils and blinking lights, sat a hunched man in a broken leather chair.
Dr. Ruce.
Kaizu stepped forward, his boots echoing on the polished metal floor. "You called, Doctor," he said.
Ruce turned slowly, his face emerging from the shadows. Thick glasses magnified sunken eyes, and metallic implants snaked across his temple like roots digging into his skull. His lab coat was rumpled and stained coffee, ink, and maybe something worse. The dim blue light reflected off his lenses, giving him a haunted look.
"Ah," Ruce rasped, voice crackling like static. "Captain Kaizu. How... unfortunate you're awake for this."
Skye's shoulders tensed beside him, her good hand drifting toward her sidearm, instinctively. The air in the room was thick with the smell of antiseptic and cold metal sterilized, lifeless.
Ruce didn't wait for a reply. He pressed a few keys on his wrist console. A deep tremor shook the lab.
"Come," he said. "The truth waits below."
A section of the floor split open, revealing a descending platform shaped like a hexagon. Without a word, Kaizu stepped onto it. Skye followed. The elevator dropped suddenly, a cold wind brushing past them as they were carried deep beneath the surface into the Federation's forbidden depths. Lights flickered around them as they descended, and Kaizu's reflection in the glass wall flickered with each flash showing not the commander, but the damaged man beneath.
Skye leaned close. Her voice was soft, full of something more than worry regret.
"I should've told you sooner," she whispered. "But... I wasn't sure you could handle it."
Kaizu didn't reply. His brow was furrowed. His heart, already weakened from coma and radiation, beat louder with each second.
The elevator stopped.
Steam hissed from hidden vents. The doors opened with a slow grind, revealing a chamber of white light and deathly silence. Machines blinked and pulsed on all sides some old, some alien. The air was colder here, sharp and biting.
And in the center of the room suspended in a tall cryo-pod floated a boy.
He looked no older than seventeen.
Pale skin. Short, jet-black hair. And across his bare chest, a spiral-shaped burn that pulsed faintly with blue energy like a second heartbeat. IV lines ran into both arms, glowing silver under the glass. The frost encasing him was cracked in places, but he was still alive. Breathing. Barely.
Kaizu stepped forward, his breath fogging on the cryo-pod's surface. His fingers touched the glass lightly, eyes fixed on the burn. He had seen that mark before on ancient scrolls, forbidden recordings, and… in his nightmares.
Ruce adjusted his glasses. "Found him floating near the destruction zone middle of nowhere, barely alive. The radiation signature on his body matches the Power Source."
The words hit like thunder.
Kaizu didn't move.
"He's the only survivor," Ruce added quietly. "Of Earth. The last... human."
Skye looked away. The machines beeped around them, calm and uncaring. But the weight in the room was crushing.
Kaizu's hands curled into fists. "Eight billion dead," he muttered. "And this boy, one boy lives?"
He shook his head, almost in disbelief. "How is that possible? He's just human. A weak race. No tech, no enhancements. He shouldn't have"
He stopped.
The images from his childhood came back again. The fire, The screams. And that name. That cursed name,
"Butcher."
He didn't speak it aloud. But the weight of it hung between them.
Skye noticed. She was watching him closely now, her face unreadable.
Kaizu turned to her. Really looked at her. Saw the scar on her temple, the one she got during their first year in training. The slight limp in her stance from a plasma wound five years ago.
They had survived everything together.
And yet... something was different now.
He narrowed his eyes. "What aren't you telling me?"
Skye didn't flinch. She didn't lie, either.
She gave him a tired smile.
"Guess we'll figure it out... soon enough."