(A Righteous Faction Military Base, Planet Nemo, A Common Captain's POV)

Captain Varrick trudged along the outer patrol route with a deep

scowl plastered across his face, his boots scraping against the packed dirt as he completed another slow lap around the perimeter.

"Damn filthy Cult insurgents..." he growled as he kicked a loose pebble out of his path, while behind him, a young soldier hurried to keep pace, his movements stiff with nervous energy.

"Captain, if I may speak..." the soldier interrupted carefully, as Varrick shot him a cautionary glance before eventually allowing him to continue with a curt nod.

"It is just my observation, sir, but you and the other senior officers have not looked well these past seven days..."

The soldier began, as Varrick let out a deep, exhausted sigh at his words.

"Your under-eye bags are almost the size of your lips, sir, making it seem like you have not slept at all.

And your behaviour has also grown more strained.

Which is making those of us under your command feel concerned for your well-being."

He said slowly, as though expecting to be scolded for even mentioning it.

However, to his surprise, Varrick did not dismiss his concern or bark at him to stay in line.

"Of course I cannot sleep!" he snapped instead, frustration cutting into every word.

"Do you see that calm sky above our heads?"

He pointed upward at the gentle blue stretching across the horizon.

"Ever since that damned Cult God Soron returned, every single officer on Nemo has been one breath away from collapsing.

Whether my eyes are open or closed, all I can imagine is him descending upon this place and killing every last one of us. That is why I cannot sleep a wink."

His expression twisted with genuine fear, something the young soldier had never witnessed on his captain's face before.

"And it is not just me," Varrick continued, his voice lowering into a hoarse murmur.

"Lieutenants, Legion Commanders, even the Commander himself... none of them have slept properly for days. No one knows which planet Soron will strike next, and hence no one feels safe here."

The soldier nodded timidly, shifting his weight.

"Captain... Do you really think he might come here?"

He asked quietly, as Varrick clenched his jaw tight.

"There is a non-zero chance that he does. And there is a one hundred

percent chance that we die if he truly comes here."

He replied, as for a short while, the base around them both felt

deceptively calm.

Turret lights rotated in steady arcs.

Training officers barked instructions at new recruits.

Transport mechs rumbled in the distance as they carried crates into storage hangars.

Yet beneath all that routine lay a suffocating dread.

The kind of silent fear that wrapped itself around every soldier's chest without anyone openly acknowledging it, because not only Nemo, but every Righteous Faction planet across the universe felt that same gloomy weight pressing down on them.

The psychological burden of whether or not Soron would strike their home world next?

*BWOOOOOOOP*

*BWOOOOOOOP*

*BWOOOOOOOP*

Suddenly, the base-wide alarm exploded to life, shaking the air so violently that both men flinched.

Red warning lights flashed across the entire compound, as Barracks spat out panicked soldiers, while turrets snapped upward toward the sky in automated response.

"Attention all units. Unidentified craft entering upper-atmosphere perimeter. Estimated descent vector: Sector 7. Repeat. Unidentified

craft approaching at high velocity."

The announcement blared from every speaker, as the young soldier froze with his jaw hanging open.

"Captain... unidentified craft... at this hour...?"

He asked, voice trembling, as Varrick felt ice crawl up his spine.

On one hand, a craft arriving meant the enemy was not Soron, since Soron never traveled in vessels.

However, it still did not feel like good news either, because the sudden approach of one unidentified jet often meant more could be

following behind.

"The fuck you asking questions for? What do you think I am? Your

pal?

Go fucking report for emergency duty. And get your crewmates asses

to come with you.

The fucking alarms are blaring, you incompetent cunt!"

Varrick snapped, as the soldier jolted back to reality and started to

run at once.

(Meanwhile, Leo)

*FWOOSH*

The wind brushed past Leo's ears as he stood at the edge of the craft's open hatch, looking down at the surface of planet Nemo far below.

The distance to ground was roughly ten kilometers, yet to him it felt

no different than ten meters, as at his strength, although he could not fly, he still had the confidence to land from this height without taking

damage.

"Captain, it seems that the enemy has finally noticed our approach.

So it's best if you leave fast....

Don't worry about me, I will be fine."

He instructed in a steady voice, before jumping, as the pilot immediately pulled the jet upwards and began to ascend sharply.

*FWOOOOOSH*

While the craft he arrived at Nemo with pulled away, the world around him turned into a vertical rush of air as he plummeted

downward.

Clouds tore apart around him, streaking past like torn sheets, while the wind screamed against his clothes and hair.

Yet, despite jumping straight into enemy territory alone, where potentially hundreds of thousands of soldiers awaited his arrival, his expression remained calm, his eyes half lidded, as the only emotion he felt was curiosity on how fast would he kill them all?

*BOOOOOOM*

He struck the surface like a falling star, a thunderous shockwave erupting outward upon impact, as dust exploded in every direction.

"Who? Who is it?"

"Did you guys catch a glimpse? I think it's a man? Can it even be a

man?"

The enemy soldiers chatted around the impact site, as they too felt unsure as to who exactly it was that had arrived.

Until it was Captain Varrick who noticed Leo's silhouette first once the dust settled.

"I-I-It's the Cult Criminal! The Shadow Dragon Leo Skyshard!" He said, his voice getting stuck in his throat, as his eyes widened in

disbelief.