The Broken Star!

Later that evening, as the sky outside turned a deep shade of indigo, Ren stepped out of the apartment. The air was cool, carrying the faint hum of the city. He didn't have a particular destination in mind; he just needed to clear his head. His mother's words lingered, heavy and unresolved.

His feet carried him to the town square, where a statue stood tall in the center. It depicted a man clad in armor, his sword raised high as if ready to face the heavens themselves. The base of the statue bore a simple plaque: "For those who rose to protect when all seemed lost."

Ren stopped in front of the statue, his dark blue eyes fixed on the figure's determined expression. His tail swayed gently behind him, his thoughts churning.

"I'm going to join the Imperial Guard one day," he muttered, almost as if addressing the statue. His fingers brushed the red stone on the necklace he always wore, a keepsake from his father. "I'll protect this place. I'll protect Mom."

The words were filled with quiet conviction, but they carried the weight of his doubts as well. Could someone like him—a Xeno, an outsider—truly make a difference?

He clenched his fists, his gaze hardening. "They can look down on me all they want. It doesn't matter. I'll prove them wrong. Just watch me."

Ren turned away from the statue and began walking, his footsteps echoing faintly in the empty square. His resolve was clear, but the road ahead loomed uncertain and filled with challenges.

As he neared the edge of the district, the sound of rushing air caught his attention. A low, droning hum grew louder, accompanied by faint tremors that vibrated through the ground. Ren looked up, his brows furrowing as a massive shadow passed overhead.

A massive aircraft—a dreadnought-class cruiser—loomed in the night sky. Its sleek, dark metal glinted faintly in the moonlight, its colossal engines casting a low rumble that sent chills down his spine. He'd seen such ships before in broadcasts, but witnessing one this close was a different experience entirely. It was a symbol of the Principality's might, and its presence was rarely a good sign.

***

Command Center

Inside the cruiser, a man in a crisp black uniform stood in the middle of the command center. His presence was imposing, his neatly combed hair and sharp features radiating authority. His silver epaulets gleamed under the artificial lights as he turned to the tactical officer.

"Report," he said, his voice calm but commanding.

"Commander," the officer began, his fingers flying over the holographic console. "We've detected rebel activity closing in on Sector 49. Intelligence suggests they've established a foothold in the area."

The commander's jaw tightened. "Nearest military stronghold?"

"The 49th Squadron, stationed near Baldur City," another crew member replied. "They're within range to provide reinforcements."

The commander considered this for a moment, his sharp eyes scanning the map projected before him. "Alert the 49th Squadron. Instruct them to address the issue and prepare for evacuation procedures in the surrounding area. The civilians must be secured."

"Yes, Commander," the officer replied, immediately relaying the orders.

"And send in reinforcements," the commander added, his tone leaving no room for argument. "We can't allow the rebels to gain any more ground."

The command center buzzed with activity as officers moved swiftly to execute his orders. The commander turned back to the projection, his expression unreadable.

***

Ren's Perspective

Ren watched the cruiser pass, the low hum of its engines fading into the distance. His tail twitched involuntarily, a faint unease settling over him.

"What are they doing here?" he muttered to himself. The sight of such a massive vessel hovering over Baldur City wasn't normal. Something was happening, and it wasn't good.

He shook his head, trying to push the thought aside. Whatever it was, it wasn't his concern—at least, not yet.

But as he turned to head home, a sudden, deafening explosion ripped through the night. The ground trembled violently beneath his feet, and a wave of heat and debris washed over the area. Ren stumbled, shielding his face with his arm as he whipped around to see the source.

In the distance, a smaller aircraft had crashed in the middle of the street. Flames licked at the twisted metal, and thick black smoke billowed into the sky. People screamed as they ran in every direction, panic spreading like wildfire.

Ren's heart pounded in his chest as he stared at the chaos unfolding before him. "What the hell is going on?"

Ren's feet moved before his mind caught up, propelling him toward the scene of the crash. The air was thick with smoke, the acrid scent burning his nostrils as he pushed through the crowd of panicked civilians. His heart pounded like a drum, each beat echoing in his ears.

"What happened?" someone yelled nearby, their voice trembling.

"Rebels!" another cried, pointing at the smoldering wreckage.

Ren's dark blue eyes darted to the twisted remains of the aircraft. The vehicle, once sleek and imposing, now lay in a crumpled heap, flames licking hungrily at its fractured hull. Pieces of debris were scattered across the street, embedding themselves into nearby buildings and vehicles. The glow of emergency lights flickered in the distance, though no responders had arrived yet.

People ran in every direction, their voices rising in a cacophony of fear and confusion. Some stumbled over the rubble, their faces pale and sweat-drenched. Others clutched loved ones, desperately trying to escape the chaos.

Ren stopped at the edge of the destruction, his tail twitching with unease. His hands clenched into fists, his mind racing to make sense of the scene. This wasn't just an accident. The damage, the impact—this was an attack.

"They wouldn't…" he muttered to himself, but the thought trailed off. His gaze swept over the wreckage, searching for something—anything—that could explain what he was seeing.

Then he saw them.

Figures moving in the shadows of the flames. Their silhouettes were unmistakable—armed soldiers, their rifles glinting in the firelight. Their uniforms bore no insignia, but their movements were methodical, practiced. They weren't there to help.

Rebels.

Ren's chest tightened as the realization hit him. His mind flashed back to the tales his father used to tell, stories of betrayal and bloodshed. He'd always thought those stories were exaggerated, relics of a time long gone.

But now, staring at the scene before him, he realized how wrong he'd been.

"Hey, kid!" A voice snapped him out of his thoughts. He turned to see a middle-aged man in a security uniform, his face smeared with soot. "Get out of here! It's not safe!"

Ren hesitated, his instincts screaming at him to run. But something rooted him in place, a burning need to understand why this was happening. "What about the people trapped in there?" he asked, gesturing toward the wreckage.

The man's face darkened. "Listen, kid. Those aren't ordinary people in there. Just go before you get yourself killed!"

Ren opened his mouth to argue, but a sudden burst of gunfire cut through the air. The sound sent chills down his spine, and the crowd around him erupted into renewed panic. He turned back to the wreckage, his eyes narrowing as he saw the soldiers advancing, their weapons raised.

"Go!" the man shouted, grabbing Ren by the arm and shoving him toward safety.

Stumbling back, Ren's breath came in shallow gasps. He didn't understand why this was happening, but one thing was clear: Baldur City wasn't safe anymore.

He turned and ran, weaving through the panicked crowd. The chaos around him blurred, his focus narrowing to a single thought: he had to get home.

Ren sprinted down the broken streets, his breaths ragged as his heart pounded in his chest. Smoke and flames filled the air, blotting out the sun and casting the world in hues of red and black. The closer he got to where his apartment once stood, the heavier the dread in his chest grew.

Finally, he reached the block where his home had been—and froze.

The entire building was in ruins, reduced to rubble. Fires crackled along the wreckage, and thick plumes of smoke rose into the sky. But what stopped Ren in his tracks wasn't the destruction—it was the towering, grotesque monster that stood amidst the ruins.

The creature was massive, its hulking frame covered in leathery, ash-colored skin. Jagged, bone-like spikes jutted out from its back, and its eyes burned like molten lava. Perched on its shoulder was a rider clad in dark armor, the insignia of the Rebels etched onto their chest plate. The rider's cold gaze scanned the wreckage below as the monster raised its massive, clawed hand.

And there, clutched in its grip, was Ren's mother.

Ren's eyes widened, dread washing over him like a tidal wave. "Mom!" he yelled, his voice cracking as he sprinted toward the scene.

Before he could get far, a soldier of the Principality intercepted him, grabbing him by the arm. "Kid, stop! It's not safe here!" the soldier barked, his voice firm but laced with fear.

Ren twisted in his grip, his eyes wild. "But my mom's there! Let me go!"

The soldier hesitated, glancing at the monster as his hand instinctively reached for the hilt of his sword. His face was pale beneath his helmet, his gray eyes betraying the fear he tried to suppress. His armor was dented and dirt-streaked, a testament to the chaos he'd already faced.

"I'll save her," the soldier said, his voice faltering slightly. "Don't worry, kid."

But his hand trembled as he tried to unsheath his blade. He knew. Ren could see it in his eyes—the soldier knew he stood no chance against that monster.

The soldier closed his eyes, his grip tightening on Ren's arm. "I'm sorry, but we have to go."

"No!" Ren screamed, struggling against the soldier's hold. "Let me go, you coward! Let me go!"

Tears streamed down his face as he thrashed, his gaze locked on his mother. She was heavily injured, blood staining her clothes and dripping from her limp body. Her head tilted weakly, and for a moment, her eyes met Ren's.

"Run, Ren!" she shouted, her voice strained but filled with urgency. "You can't save me!"

"No!" Ren yelled back, his voice breaking. "I won't leave you! I can't!"

Despite her pain, his mother smiled—a soft, loving smile that sent a knife through his chest. "I love you, dear," she said softly, her voice trembling.

Before Ren could say another word, the monster's claws tightened around her. With a horrifying snap, it lifted her toward its gaping maw. Ren's screams pierced the air as he watched, helpless, as the creature bit down.

Her upper body disappeared in a single, brutal motion. Then the monster devoured the rest.

Ren's legs buckled, his entire body shaking. His voice turned hoarse as he screamed, his cries tearing through the chaos around them. "No! Damn it! Damn it!"

The soldier turned away, gripping Ren tightly as he bolted from the scene. Ren struggled, his fists pounding against the soldier's chest. "Let me go!" he yelled, his voice raw. "Let me go, you coward!"

The soldier's face twisted with guilt, but he didn't stop running. Behind them, the monster roared, its voice shaking the ground as flames consumed what little remained of Ren's home.

Ren's screams echoed in his ears, the image of his mother's final smile burned into his mind.