Meanwhile, buried beneath the rubble, Zane's body trembled. Blood trickled from his forehead, mixing with the dust. His breaths were shallow. He could hear the muffled sounds of battle, the cries of his comrades... and his own thoughts, louder than everything else.
"I'm... useless," he choked out, tears streaming down his dirt-covered face. "If I never joined the elite… the pro warriors… maybe none of this would've happened. Maybe my classmates wouldn't be suffering. This is all my fault..."
His fists clenched, fingernails digging into the earth beneath him.
"I should've been stronger. I should've protected them!" he screamed, voice raw and filled with agony.
The weight of guilt crushed him harder than the wall. His heart pounded, rage and sorrow rising in a storm inside him. His body was broken, but his spirit—his soul—was burning.
Then, through the dust and blood, his eyes flared with fury.
"I won't let this be the end!"
He let out a thunderous scream that echoed through the battlefield—a cry of pain, of rage, of defiance.
A wave of guilt crushed his chest, heavier than the rubble pinning him down. But in that darkness… something stirred.
Far beyond Earth, in the stillness of space—near the ringed giant, Saturn—a dormant orb floated silently among the stars. Ancient. Watching. Waiting.
Then it pulsed.
Once.
Twice.
Cracks spread across its surface as if some great force had awakened within.
And then—Zane screamed from Earth, voice echoing through stone and soul:
"GET OUT OF MY WORLD!!"
The orb shattered.
A brilliant beam of golden-white light exploded from Saturn, streaking across the void toward Earth. As it traveled, a rogue meteor was drawn into its orbit, breaking apart and spinning around it, forming a glowing ring of energy that spun like a second Saturn.
Back on Earth, in the PNHS control room, Mr. Shawn stood rigid, eyes locked on the live feed from the battlefield.
Alarms began to wail.
A technician's voice broke through the silence: "Unidentified energy signature—originating from deep space. It's… accelerating. Fast."
Mr. Shawn narrowed his eyes. "Where is it going?"
Then, on the screen, the skies above the battlefield split open.
A blinding column of celestial light crashed down at the center of the war zone—right where Zane had fallen. The impact shook the earth. A massive shockwave of light and wind surged outward, scattering debris and stunning both sides of the conflict.
Pro warriors, hardened and disciplined, fell back with shields raised.
Elite warriors stared in disbelief.
Students, bloodied and breathless, watched as something emerged from the center of the blast.
A figure, tall and radiant, stood in the glowing crater. His body shimmered with golden energy, his skin gleaming like planetary metal. Rings of glowing light rotated slowly around his arms, orbiting him like moons.
Everyone froze.
"W-What is that…?" Akashi muttered.
Akira took a slow step forward, eyes locked on the glowing figure. "That… wasn't one of us. Was it?"
Mayari's eyes flared as she activated her Vision ability—but her breath caught in her throat. "I… I can't see through it. It's like he's… not from here."
The mysterious figure hovered just above the ground.
Then—he vanished.
In a flash of light, he streaked across the battlefield like a comet. Alien reacted too slowly, their advanced combat instincts unable to match his speed. With each pass, a blast of light followed—and some of the most dangerous aliens dissolved into nothing, their bodies unraveling in the wake of his energy.
The defenders watched, stunned.
The aliens—relentless and tactically precise—shifted formation, adapting, recalculating. But it didn't matter.
He was too fast.
Too powerful.
The figure reappeared high above the battlefield, rings orbiting, energy pulsing. Everyone watched, breath held.
And then—he dove.
Straight for the largest alien monstrosity standing—towering, armored, roaring like thunder.
The air cracked as he hit.
Explosion. Light. Silence.
Dust rose.
No one spoke.
The only question in every mind—from the academy, from the battlefield, from the command room—was the same:
Who is he?
The explosion faded, but the light still hung in the air—glowing like a second sun above the shattered battlefield.
In the crater, the mysterious figure hovered, ringed in golden energy, unmoving for a moment… like a god looking down on a world not his own.
No one knew what to say.
"W-We saw that, right?" a young elite whispered, gripping his weapon with shaking hands.
"He's… on our side?" muttered one of the pro warriors, his eyes never leaving the light.
But the figure didn't speak.
He only stood—calm, centered, unreadable. The light from his body shimmered across the smoke-filled sky, casting long shadows across the war-torn ground.
Then, without warning—he moved again.
In a flash, he vanished—appearing behind another charging alien. With one strike—a burst of pure energy—the creature collapsed into ash. Another turned, screeching, and lunged with unnatural speed, but the golden figure dodged effortlessly, leaving a trail of radiant light in his wake. A single wave of his arm sent a slicing shockwave that split the ground.
Alien after alien fell in his path, unable to keep up, even with their heightened combat instincts and flawless coordination.
The defenders—still stunned—began to move again.
"We can't just stand here!" Ronald shouted, snapping out of the trance. "Stay sharp! Cover the flanks—use this moment!"
The pro warriors reformed quickly, falling into tactical positions. The elite warriors followed suit, blades igniting, guns ready. The students—still shaken—tightened their grips on their weapons and rushed back into formation.
But even as they fought, their eyes kept flicking upward… watching the battle unfold around the unknown savior who burned like a star.
"What is he?" Mayari asked, breathless, dodging an enemy strike.
"I don't know," Akashi replied, slashing through an attacker. "But... he's buying us time."
"I thought Zane was gone…" Alyas muttered, her voice almost drowned in the chaos. "And now this?"
"He's not Zane," Akira said, uncertainty in her voice. "He can't be. That... thing… that power…"
No one knew.
But they kept watching.
They kept fighting.
The mysterious figure continued tearing through the enemy ranks—his body gliding across the field, each movement precise, every strike devastating. The aliens tried to surround him, adapting, predicting—but it was never enough. He was faster. Smarter. Like he had lived this battle before.
And through it all… he didn't speak a word.
Only fought.
Only protected.
Above, from the PNHS command center, Mr. Shawn stood in silence, one hand on the console, his jaw clenched.
"That's not any warrior I trained…" he muttered.
"But whoever he is… he turned the tide."
Back on the ground, as the warriors of Earth regrouped and pushed forward, a strange feeling settled over them—one they hadn't felt in hours.
Hope.
Even if they didn't know his name.
Even if they couldn't see his face.
He was fighting for them.
To be continued.