Forgotten Stars

After Felicia’s departure, Elijah stared at the cracked supermarket door, still clutching the small communicator the woman had given him. The air inside felt heavier, redolent with the scent of mold and lingering traces of battle clinging to their armor. Evelyn took a deep breath before seating herself on a box filled with unexpired canned food.

“Have you ever heard that name before?” Elijah asked as he removed his helmet and wiped the sweat from his brow.

Evelyn shook her head, her hand still examining the fractures in her silver armor. “Military ranks are always sensitive information. Your father used to deal with them, but he never once mentioned Felicia.”

Elijah exhaled his frustration. Outside, the sky darkened further, the acid rain easing off yet leaving rust-like stains on the window. “Are we supposed to take it at face value? She could be luring us into a trap.”

Evelyn patted Elijah’s shoulder, a small smile breaking across her weary face. “You want to accept her offer, don’t you? Because you believe their bunker is safer… and that we might meet more people.”

Elijah looked down, knowing his mother could read his mind. “But we don’t even know who she is.”

“Then we’ll find out,” Evelyn declared, rising and smoothing her tousled hair. “Crowe might have some information. He used to serve in the military.”

Elijah nodded, but before he could move, a low growl from outside froze him. Through the shattered window, ten mutants roamed around a burning truck, their yellow eyes gleaming like poisonous fireflies.

“Coming home won’t be easy,” Elijah growled, as his red helmet once again shrouded his face.

Evelyn activated her cloaking device, her body shimmering briefly before vanishing. “Let’s test our new abilities.”

Elijah landed on the dented hood of a car, his breath coming in ragged gasps. A mutant with stone-like skin, towering three meters high, roared as its colossal hand struck the ground, shattering the asphalt into a circular pattern. “Left, Mom!” he shouted, leaping aside just before the creature’s massive claws rent the air where he had stood.

Emerging from a cloud of dust, Evelyn’s energy knife whirled into a blue circle. “Aim for the shoulder joint! That’s its weak spot!” she cried, thrusting the knife into the mutant’s knee. The metal of her silver armor creaked under the strain as the beast writhed, yet it did not withdraw its strike.

“I’m on it!” Elijah shouted, propelling himself into the air with a plasma kick. His energy sword slashed toward the mutant’s neck like a bolt of lightning. Alas, the granite-hard skin yielded only a scratch the length of his finger. “Damn! Tougher than before!”

Evelyn withdrew her knife from the mutant’s knee and leaped back to avoid a wild swing from the creature. “Try the eye! Or even the nostril!”

“Nostril?!” Elijah roared in disbelief, yet he complied. With acrobatic precision, he landed on the mutant’s shoulder, his sword plunging into its left eye—a murky, yellow orb. Thick, green fluid burst forth; thanks to the crystal energy he had absorbed earlier, his sword now struck deeper. “Got it!”

The mutant howled as its body slumped and collapsed, and a red crystal, no larger than a marble, tumbled from its chest. “Fifteen seconds. Faster than before,” Elijah remarked with a satisfied smile as he pocketed the crystal.

“Don’t let your guard down!” Evelyn suddenly pulled Elijah’s shoulder, saving him from the grasp of a winged mutant swooping in from above. Two monstrous, crow-like creatures circled them, their metallic beaks clicking ominously. “Its wings! Sever the membrane joints!”

Elijah nodded, his sword transforming into an energy boomerang. With precise throws, he slashed off the left wing of the first mutant. “Makes sense!”

Not to be outdone, Evelyn’s energy knife morphed into a long spear, plunging into the heart of the second mutant as it fell. “Two more crystals. That brings us to seven.”

But Elijah’s laughter died abruptly when the ground before them suddenly bulged. A giant, frog-like mutant leapt out, its gaping mouth spewing a stream of green acid.

“Don’t let that acid hit your armor!” Evelyn shouted, shoving Elijah behind the wreckage of a truck. The acid gnawed at the metal until it pitted, forming a hole as large as a head.

“What’s your idea?!” Elijah peeked from behind the thinning shield.

“You’ll serve as bait,” Evelyn replied curtly, her cloaking device flickering back into action.

“What? Wait—!” But Evelyn had already vanished. With a defiant cry, Elijah charged forward, his sword blazing. “Hey, ugly frog! Taste this!”

The mutant bellowed as a second acid spray targeted Elijah. Just in the nick of time, Evelyn reappeared atop the creature’s head, her energy spear piercing squarely between its eyes. The frog mutant convulsed before finally falling silent, a red crystal lodged at the spear’s tip.

“Eight,” Evelyn smiled triumphantly as she tossed the crystal to Elijah.

“Perfect teamwork,” Elijah panted, patting his mother’s shoulder.

In the distance, a new horde of mutants began advancing. But this time, the pair exchanged only a knowing glance and a small smile. “Onward?” they silently agreed.

“To the bunker,” Evelyn replied, reactivating her energy knife.

The 1-kilometer trek to the bunker felt like a death march. Every ten meters, new mutants emerged—some as bulky as gorillas, others as agile as spiders. Yet, with growing coordination, Elijah and Evelyn dispatched them one after another, the crystals in their bag steadily increasing: 5… 10… 15…

Upon reaching the bunker’s entrance, Elijah recounted the tally. “Nineteen. Enough for the three of us.”

Crowe swiftly opened the heavy steel door, his face pale. “I saw it all on the external cameras. My backup drone wasn’t ready—”

“That’s enough,” Elijah interrupted, removing his helmet with labored breaths. “We need to talk.”

Seated on a synthetic leather sofa, Crowe’s hands trembled as he clutched a cup of cold coffee. Elijah and Evelyn recounted everything—from the encounter with Felicia and her bunker offer to the ferocity of the street battle.

Crowe exhaled deeply as his fingers danced across a holographic panel, decrypting military data. The main screen displayed Felicia’s profile, laden with previously hidden details. “She isn’t just any commander,” he began in a low, respectful tone. “Two years ago, Felicia was merely a captain in Sector 3. But within six months, she rose to full command—the fastest record in the history of the combat division.”

Elijah crossed his arms, his eyes scanning the virtual medals displayed. “How did she do it?”

“Training.” Crowe zoomed in on the report. “The program was called ‘Operation Naraka.’ It wasn’t only physical—it was a mental game.” A holographic simulation emerged: dozens of soldiers in black uniforms creeping beneath electrified barbed wire, drones launching vacuum missiles at them. “Eighteen hours of non-stop drills every day: urban guerrilla tactics, virtual hostage scenarios, and even psychological endurance tests with 72 hours of total isolation.”

Evelyn touched an image of a soldier collapsing in the middle of a field. “Only thirty percent pass… what about those who fail?”

“Terminated,” Crowe replied tersely. “But those who endure become true war machines. Look at this.” He played a secret video: a team of soldiers adorned with eagle badges infiltrated a virtual skyscraper with precise, wordless movements. “Alpha-9 team. They neutralized 150 terrorist targets in 47 minutes—a world record.”

Elijah whistled softly. “And Felicia was behind their training?”

“More than that.” Crowe revealed a document stamped “SECRET.” “She overhauled the entire military curriculum. In Sector 9 now, every soldier must undergo the ‘Mirror Test’—a 24-hour battle against an AI clone of themselves. Win, and you’re promoted. Lose…”

“Psychosis?” Evelyn interjected.

“Worse. They must watch recordings of their defeat repeatedly until they identify their own weaknesses.”

Elijah grimaced. “Sadistic.”

“But effective,” Crowe said, sliding the screen to display mission success statistics. “Since Felicia took command, the mission success rate in Sector 9 has increased by 300%, and soldier casualties have dropped to 5%.”

Evelyn’s gaze drifted to Felicia’s cold photograph. “Does that mean she has no friends because she’s too busy being an executioner?”

“No.” Crowe played a short interview with one of Felicia’s former subordinates—a soldier bearing a scarred cheek—who said, “She doesn’t need friends. She needs soldiers capable of changing the world.”

“That sounds clichéd,” Elijah muttered.

“Yet the facts remain,” Crowe continued, showing a financial report. “Her commander’s salary is donated entirely to war orphanages. She sleeps in barracks, eats basic rations, and rejects all VIP privileges.”

Evelyn gasped. “Then what motivates her?”

“Perfection.” Crowe pointed to the slogan on Felicia’s uniform: “Weakness is an unforgivable sin.” “She believes war is only won by those willing to sacrifice every human frailty.”

Elijah fell silent, his eyes fixed on a video of Felicia training her soldiers—her voice cold and commanding: “If you fear blood, don’t be born into this world!” as a comrade collapsed under twice the normal burden.

“So… do we trust her?” Evelyn finally asked.

Crowe deactivated the hologram. “If you choose to believe in a system that creates monsters like Felicia—then yes.”

Elijah produced nineteen crystals from his bag and laid them on the table. “Before deciding, we need this.”

Crowe raised an eyebrow. “What is that?”

“New fuel,” Elijah grinned, picking up one crystal and grasping it. Slowly, the stone melted into a red liquid that seeped into his arm. His muscles pulsed, but the effect was gentler this time—like warm water flowing through his veins.

Evelyn demonstrated with one of her own crystals. “Slow, but you feel it.”

Reluctantly, Crowe tried it, placing eight crystals before him. “Am I supposed to sing as well?”

“Just focus,” Elijah laughed.

Seated cross-legged on the bunker’s steel floor, Elijah arranged five crystals in a row. With deep breaths, he closed his eyes and allowed the crystal energy to course from his palms. This time, the process was painless—more like meditation. The shattered visage of Aurora Tower flashed in his mind, followed by Felicia’s icy voice: “We need an army.”

Beside him, Evelyn furrowed her brow. The six crystals in her hand glowed brighter than Elijah’s; her body felt almost weightless, as if gravity had been halved.

Crowe fared the worst. The three crystals before him only flickered dimly, their red liquid half-absorbed into his wrinkled skin. “My body is rejecting this,” he groaned, wiping cold sweat from his forehead. His hand trembled as he tried to grasp a fourth crystal—its energy rebounded, throwing him backward. “Age can’t be fooled,” he murmured bitterly, staring at Elijah and Evelyn, who now seemed enveloped in an aura of otherworldly energy. Yet, behind his complaint, a small spark remained—three crystals still granted him a burst of extra strength in his legs, reminiscent of a teenager on his first marathon.

Elijah gathered the remaining crystals into a specially designed anti-radiation bag. “Slow but steady,” he said. Yet, a nagging thought stirred in his mind: what would happen if we absorbed dozens of crystals all at once?

That night, Elijah couldn’t sleep. The crescent moon pendant around his neck glowed in sync with the crystals arranged on the table. On the holographic screen, Felicia’s photograph still stared back—her cold gaze almost challenging him.

“Are you still in doubt?” Evelyn’s voice startled him.

“Mom, you’re not asleep either?”

Evelyn sat beside him, her eyes fixed on Felicia’s image. “She has an aura like Benedict—cold, yet visionary.”

“But Felicia offers something we don’t have: an army,” Evelyn continued, pointing to a map on the screen. “If the mutants keep evolving, we can’t face it alone.”

Elijah activated Felicia’s communicator. The small red light blinked steadily, harboring a frequency that could summon aid—or disaster.

“Tomorrow,” he murmured. “We decide tomorrow.”