It's been days since I fell from the void.
Right now, I'm living under the same roof as two people I never expected to share a house with — a strange player with no memory of his past, and an Imperial soldier who I once fought on the battlefield.
Life's weird like that.
The morning air was cold when I stepped outside, rifle slung over my shoulder. Dew clung to the grass like faint shards of glass, and the horizon burned with soft light.
I sat near the porch, laid my rifle across my lap, and began cleaning it — slide, bolt, barrel. Every motion was calming, almost meditative. The sound of metal against cloth filled the silence, steady and familiar.
When I looked up, I noticed someone else already awake.
SK.
She was in the yard, practicing her movements. The air sliced with a soft whoosh every time her scythe cut through it. Each strike was precise — fluid, deadly, and beautiful in a strange, terrifying way. Even though she was part of the Empire once, her form spoke of discipline, not arrogance.
They called her The Reaper, the Empire's shadow executioner. I'd seen her fight before — her weapon, that crescent-shaped scythe, had reaped hundreds on the battlefield.
And now here she was, in the quiet morning light, her long blonde hair tied back, eyes calm and focused.
When she noticed me watching, she stopped and rested the scythe on her shoulder.
"Enjoying the show?" she asked.
I said nothing. I just gave a small shrug and kept watching.
She smirked. "Well, if you're going to just stand there, how about a mock battle?"
"Mock battle?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah. Don't worry, I'll go easy on you." Her grin was sharp enough to cut.
I exhaled. "You sure about that? You're asking for it."
She twirled her scythe once, resting it against her shoulder. "You should feel honored. You get to spar with The Reaper."
I smiled faintly and chambered a round in my rifle. "Good. Then you should be honored too — you're fighting the Starlink Sniper."
SK tilted her head, amused. "Rules are simple. First one to yield loses. Got it?"
"Yeah, yeah," I replied, standing up and stretching. "Let's start."
The instant the word "start" left her lips, SK vanished.
Her movement blurred — a flash of black and red as she charged, scythe sweeping through the air.
I dove to the side, rolling as the blade slashed where I'd been standing. Dust sprayed across my boots.
"Is that all you've got?" I shouted.
"Not yet!" she replied, voice echoing as she charged again — faster this time.
The second swing came from a blind angle. I barely dodged, feeling the wind of the blade graze my shoulder. A thin cut formed through my jacket.
"Close one," I muttered.
She smirked. "What are you going to do now, Starborn?"
"Are you always this talkative in battle?" I barked back, aiming down my rifle.
"Why you—!"
Her next move was chaotic — unpredictable. She weaved, feinted, then came down in a spinning slash.
CLANG!
Her scythe collided with my rifle mid-swing, metal screaming against metal. Sparks flew between us.
I gritted my teeth and pushed back. "Not bad…"
"Same to you," she grinned. "This is getting interesting."
We broke apart and clashed again. I fired a few rounds, forcing her to dodge. The bullets ripped the air, each one a split-second from her form. She was faster. Much faster.
After several minutes, I was covered in bruises and scrapes. She'd landed several clean strikes. My arms ached, my breath heavy.
"Is that all you've got, Starborn?" SK teased, her smirk widening.
"Lucky," I muttered, wiping blood from my lip. "If that last shot hit, you'd be down."
"Excuses already?" she taunted.
"Not excuses—facts."
Unbeknownst to us, someone had been watching the whole time.
Blaze leaned against a nearby tree, arms crossed, that faint amused look on his face.
"That was a good match," he said as he walked toward us. "You both fought well. SK, your movement's improved. You controlled your momentum perfectly."
"Thank you, sir," SK replied, clearly pleased by the praise.
I groaned. "Like I said, if that bullet hit her, I would've won."
"Sure, sure," she teased.
We glared at each other, still panting from the fight. Blaze just smiled.
"What about the two of you… fight me next?" he said suddenly.
"What?" I snapped. "Are you crazy? You could knock out SK with one hand!"
"Don't worry," he said calmly, lifting his hands. "I'll hold back. And I won't use my sword."
"You serious?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.
He nodded. "Completely."
SK bowed slightly, spinning her scythe back into position. "It's an honor, sir."
I sighed. "Fine. But don't blame me when we win."
Blaze just smiled. "Begin."
SK moved first — this time, she was going all out. Her speed was unreal, even faster than when she fought me. The scythe became a blur of silver light.
But Blaze didn't move.
He just stood there — calm, relaxed, one arm raised in a strange stance.
SK vanished, reappeared behind him, and swung with all her strength.
"Got you!!" she shouted.
The moment her blade touched his arm, a blue shimmer rippled across his skin — a barrier, a pulse of pure energy.
"No way…" I whispered from my scope.
SK froze. Her weapon locked in place as if time itself stopped. She couldn't move.
"What the hell…" I muttered.
In one fluid motion, Blaze turned, his hand glowing faintly, and tapped her chest with two fingers. The energy discharged like lightning — not enough to wound, but enough to knock her back. SK fell, unconscious, her weapon fading from her hand.
Then Blaze turned his gaze toward me.
"Oh, crap," I breathed, reloading quickly. I aimed and fired.
The shot echoed, but Blaze didn't even flinch. The bullet passed right through an afterimage — he'd moved before the trigger even clicked.
A faint touch landed on my shoulder.
"Hey," a voice said behind me. "Are you done yet?"
I turned, startled. "What the—?!"
I jabbed the butt of my rifle toward him, but again, that same blue shimmer appeared. The weapon hit his palm and bounced off harmlessly.
"Nice reflex," he said casually.
I tried again, feinting left and striking from below — but before I could blink, he stepped in, twisted my arm gently, and tapped my shoulder. My entire body froze — muscles locked, like static paralyzed me.
Then—
Tap.
One soft punch to the chest, and everything went dark.
When I woke, the first thing I saw was the ceiling. My head throbbed.
The second thing — Blaze sitting across the room, smiling like nothing happened.
"You awake?" he asked, leaning back in his chair. "How was the mock battle?"
I groaned. "You said you'd go easy…"
He laughed. "Sorry. Got carried away."
I sat up, rubbing my neck. SK was still out cold, lying on the couch with a blanket over her. "You… really don't hold back, huh?"
"Guess not," he admitted, scratching his head. "But it was fun. Haven't sparred like that in a while."
I squinted at him. "What was that thing you used? The blue light?"
He smiled faintly. "That's called a parry."
"A parry?" I repeated.
"Yeah. It's when you time your block perfectly—just before the attack hits. You don't take damage, and the enemy's left open for a counter. If you master it, even the strongest attack can't touch you."
I stared at him for a long moment. "You make it sound easy."
He chuckled. "It's not. You have to read your opponent completely — every breath, every twitch. It's less about strength and more about understanding motion."
I leaned back, exhaling. "Still… I've heard of that skill before. One of the Resistance's melee fighters used something like it. I've never actually seen it work, though."
"Well," Blaze said, standing up and stretching, "now you have."
He walked toward the door, sunlight spilling across his face. For a moment, that strange aura of his flared again — faint, like an echo of something ancient. Then it vanished.
"I'm going out for a bit," he said. "You two need rest."
"Yeah…" I mumbled, still watching him. "Rest sounds good."
He smiled quietly. "Tomorrow, maybe we'll spar again — but this time, no holding back."
I groaned, half joking, half terrified. "Remind me to fake an injury before then."
Blaze laughed, walking off. The sound of his footsteps faded down the hall.
I looked at SK sleeping peacefully, then at my rifle leaning against the wall. The events replayed in my head — the parry, the speed, the impossible precision.
"Just what are you, Blaze…" I whispered to myself.
Outside, the wind carried faint echoes of battle — reminders of a world still at war. But for now, in this small, quiet house in the middle of nowhere, we had something rare.
Peace — fragile, fleeting, but real.
At least, until tomorrow.