Solar System – Outer Orbit, Between Mars and the Asteroid Belt
A stretch of cold void spanned ahead—an endless black canvas speckled with stars. Cutting through this silence were two warships: one matte-black, angular, leaving a trail of faint violet ion wake; the other, a navy-blue dreadnought humming with cerulean energy from its pulsating thrusters. They had been burning across the void for over forty-eight hours.
The command deck of the lead vessel lit softly with interface holograms and low system murmurs. The doors hissed open with a hydraulic sigh. Jason shuffled in, still clad in flight-deck pajamas, stifling a yawn, one hand buried in his pocket.
"Yo, Lucifer—heads up." He lazily tossed an energy bar.
Without glancing, Lucifer raised a hand and it levitated within his proximity field. He peeled it open and bit in, his eyes still locked on the telemetry streaming across his screen.
Jason slumped into the seat next to him. "So, how much longer?"
Lucifer didn't look up. "At our current velocity, we'll breach the outer threshold of the Asteroid Belt in three hours."
Jason groaned. "Space travel—glorious in theory, boring as hell in practice."
He wasn't wrong. The novels made it seem romantic—blazing dogfights, exotic anomalies, thrilling discoveries. But real deep-space missions were long, cold, and silent. Like a week-long train ride through a tunnel.
Suddenly, a mechanical chime broke the lull.
[Incoming transmission—Origin: EDS]
Aria's voice—clean, synthesized, emotionless—echoed through the deck.
Lucifer's brow furrowed. "Strange. EDS transmissions only trigger under planetary-level anomalies."
Jason perked up, boredom forgotten. "What kind of anomaly?"
Lucifer tapped through the encrypted stream, his fingers dancing across the holo-keys. "Aria, get the rest of the team on deck. Now."
Minutes later, the full crew was assembled as lines of alien-looking code rippled across the main screen. Lucifer stood at the helm, arms crossed.
Percy stepped forward. "Talk to us."
Lucifer nodded. "The EDS array sent a quantum burst—compressed data packets encoded in critical priority format. That only happens if Earth's planetary security protocols detect an unidentified existential threat."
"And?" James prompted.
Lucifer adjusted the display. "I'm still parsing it, but the system recorded an anomalous energy spike—localized near Naval Station Lemegeton. The signature doesn't correspond to any known terrestrial or interstellar classification—"
"Sheesh, Lucifer—basic tongue, please," Jason interrupted, waving a hand.
Lucifer gave him a brief glare, then continued more plainly, "In layman's terms... something alien just pinged Earth's defenses."
A tense silence rippled through the deck. Eyes turned to Percy. He exhaled, then gave the order. "Aria—patch through to Captain Brad."
—[Comm Channel Open – Secure Uplink Established]—
["Brad here. Go ahead, Captain."]
Percy's voice was firm. "We've got a situation, Brad. Our sensors confirm sensors detected some kind of an unknown entity outside the planet's atmospheric influence."
There was a pause on the line.
["What?! That's... alarming. What are your orders, Captain?"]
"We're proceeding with our current mission. However, I recommend your battleship return to reinforce planetary defense, in case Command requires support."
Another silence.
["...Acknowledged. CL-01 will reroute and return to High Command, Captain."] The channel closed.
As Percy received the transmission, a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
Outside, the navy-blue battleship's primary thrusters powered down, replaced by a burst from the auxiliary stabilizers. The vessel rotated cleanly along the X-axis, executing a precise 180-degree spin, aligning itself for emergency retro-burn and reverse course.
Meanwhile, aboard the black battleship now forging ahead through the void—
"Now that we are not being held back, how long will it take if we push to peak velocity?" Percy asked calmly.
No one questioned his decision. Their past with the I-CA left little room for hesitation or loyalty.
In response, a tactical overlay of the solar system flickered to life on the holoscreen. Their projected trajectory rendered in luminous vectors across the display.
"Let's revisit that after we clear the Asteroid Belt in one piece," Lucifer replied, his tone grim as he analyzed the path ahead.
Almost on cue, a violent shudder rippled through the deck.
"Aria, reroute maximum power to deflector shields. Reduce acceleration to controlled minimum," Lucifer commanded, hands racing over the holo-interface as data scrolled around him.
Within moments, the tremors subsided to faint vibrations. Outside the viewport, bursts of ionized sparks illuminated the hull—asteroid debris disintegrating as they collided with the ship's charged shield barrier.
The crew silently strapped in as the bridge settled into tense quiet. But the calm didn't last.
"Oh hell—massive contact incoming!" Lucifer shouted, eyes wide as the screen zoomed in on the threat. A single asteroid loomed ahead—its size nearly double that of their battleship.
---
A pale-faced young operative, appearing no older than his early twenties, surveyed the formation of twenty silent figures clad in advanced black tactical exo-armor. They stood still, awaiting instructions. This was the Phenex Squad, led by the very man whose call sign—Phenex—had been bestowed upon him by high command.
[T-minus 10 minutes to drop coordinates.]
The AI's voice echoed from the comm-system. Their transport: a heavily modified variant of the MH-60 Skyshadow, retrofitted for deep insertion ops and capable of supporting an autonomous tactical squad.
Captain Phenex turned to face the obsidian ocean stretching endlessly ahead. With the moon obscured and the sky blanketed in storm clouds, only the rhythmic churn of waves and the faint hum of rotor-silencers broke the silence of the stealth aircraft.
Ten minutes passed. The aircraft dropped into hover mode.
Phenex transmitted a standby protocol to his squad, then strode into the flight control chamber—its spacious design more akin to a command pod than a conventional cockpit.
"Status report," he requested.
"All systems nominal, Captain. No thermal or biosignatures detected within the grid. Even advanced bio-scanners are registering zero lifeforms topside," one of the four-pilot crew responded.
"Scan for flux radiation in the local vicinity," Phenex ordered.
"Confirmed." The pilot team initiated scans. Within moments, data appeared on the monitors.
"Residual flux radiation detected—two clicks northwest. Concentrated. Awaiting further instruction, sir."
Without a word, Captain Phenex returned to the deployment bay. He raised one arm and punched in a command on his console.
[Side hatch opening—manual override acknowledged.]
The pressurized side bay hissed open, letting in a violent gust of salt-heavy wind. Phenex narrowed his eyes against the current, arms outstretched in a controlled stretch. One squad member handed him a combat knife—its material an unknown dark alloy. Silence fell like a signal jam. In the midst of that quiet, Phenex hurled the blade into the night.
The knife shimmered unnaturally mid-air as if slicing through space itself—
BOOM.
A dull shockwave echoed through the void. The black ocean's veil was breached by a sudden flicker of blue luminescence. Zooming in revealed the combat knife lodged into a semi-transparent energy barrier, wreathed in deathly black fire.
"There. Lock onto that coordinate," Phenex instructed. Another input. A compact orb launched in the same trajectory.
Within the concealed fortress of Atlantis, alarms blared as the impact registered. Encased within mountain ranges and guarded by a full spectrum of tactical defense, the island's borders lit up. The mountains—retro-engineered into dual-purpose terrain and artillery outposts—reacted immediately to the breach.
King Diaprepes, stationed within the border command nexus, observed the data feed. The drone footage showed the knife embedded in the barrier's lattice, disrupting its integrity. An unexpected energy signature. He hadn't anticipated such an asset on the opposing side—but he didn't flinch.
"Prepare breach countermeasures," he commanded.
In response, concealed plasma turrets rose from hardened silos across the mountain perimeter, primed to intercept. But the threat came faster than expected.
FWUMP.
A low-frequency burst swept across the defense grid. Screens dimmed. Systems crashed.
"EMP wave detected! Shield nexus partially compromised—communications scrambled. Impact zone is exposed!" an officer shouted.
And yet—no panic.
Back in the sky, the MH-60 Skyshadow accelerated toward land.
Captain Phenex and his squad executed a high-altitude insertion atop the mountain range. Upon touchdown, a lone defender awaited. Clad in armor forged from a sapphire-toned alien composite and wielding a similarly crafted spear, the sentinel stood unmoved—his gaze sharp, unfazed by the numbers before him.
The squad raised their magnetic pulse rifles, weapons charged. But Phenex raised a single hand. Instant compliance—the squad stood down.
"Execute mission protocol," he commanded.
The twenty operatives broke into four tactical units, dispersing across the perimeter. The defender's expression shifted. Tightening his grip on the spear, he activated kinetic boosters beneath his boots, vanishing in a blur—only to reappear before one squad.
He struck—but a moment later, he spun around, blocking an ambush.
CLANG.
Metal screamed as his spear intercepted twin daggers inches from his throat. The clash knocked him off trajectory—just enough for the unit to slip past. No words exchanged. Just the oppressive tension of battle-readied instincts.
The defender retaliated. Spear in hand, he lunged at Phenex with calculated force. The air tore under the momentum. But Phenex did not evade.
With a mere shift of weight and subtle bend, he allowed the spear to drive into his shoulder—blackened blood splattering across the polished shaft and his own expressionless face.
The defender faltered. Phenex licked the blood from his cheek. His pale smile deepened—unsettling and cold.
Sensing the danger, the defender attempted retreat—but far too late.
THUD.
His arm—the one wielding the spear—landed on the ground, severed cleanly. Black fire devoured the wound's edge, cauterizing flesh without pain.
And then—silence.
Phenex appeared behind him. In a flash, the blade met flesh. The sentinel's throat opened, life draining from his eyes. Cradling the lifeless form with eerie reverence, Phenex gently lowered the body, methodically removing the armor.
Just as he was finishing—ZAAAAK.
A concentrated blue beam tore through the atmosphere, aimed directly at him.
Reacting instantly, Phenex brought his dagger up. It intercepted the beam, nullifying the strike—but the force launched him backward across the ridge.
Stabilizing mid-air, he landed and turned toward the source—eyes narrowing, locking onto the distant sniper's position as if peering through kilometers of terrain and steel.