The Iron Spire towered over the city below it like a jagged blade thrust into the sky, its rust-streaked metal frame groaning under the relentless weight of freight pods climbing towards orbit. The colossal structure buzzed with ceaseless activity, workers shouting commands over the grinding of machinery while the low hum of hover-lifts echoed as they ferried crates of freshly mined minerals from Drakara’s depths.

At its base, the sprawling underbelly of the Spire was a labyrinth of forgotten alleys and makeshift shanties where the unlucky and unwanted struggled to survive. For Nolena, this place wasn’t just home. It was her whole world.

“Give it back!” Nolena’s voice cracked as she lunged forward, her hands outstretched.

A lanky boy danced out of her reach, clutching a threadbare teddy bear. The fabric was matted and worn, one button-eye hanging by a thread, but to Nolena, it was everything.

“Come on, Nolena,” the boy taunted, holding the bear above his head. “It’s just junk. Why do you even care?”

The other children encircled them, a mix of jeers and laughter echoing in the dimly lit alley. They were all survivors of the Spire’s shadow, hardened by hunger and the daily fight for scraps. But tonight, Nolena wasn’t thinking about food. She wasn’t thinking about survival. She was thinking about the bear.

“It’s mine!” she shouted, her voice trembling with desperation.

“Oh yeah?” The boy grinned, his yellow teeth glinting. “Then come get it.”

Nolena didn’t hesitate. She darted forward, her bare feet slapping against the cracked pavement. The boy tried to dodge, but she was faster than he expected, slamming into him with her full weight. They both tumbled to the ground, the bear flying from his hand and landing a few feet away.

Scrambling on all fours, Nolena reached for it, but another child kicked it aside. “Not so fast!” a girl sneered, stepping between Nolena and the bear.

Nolena rose to her feet, her small frame trembling with exhaustion and anger. Her copper hair hung in tangled strands around her face, and her green eyes burned with defiance. She clenched her fists, the faint metallic glow beneath parts of her skin casting faint shadows in the dim light, though none of the children noticed.

“Move,” she said, her voice low and steady.

The girl smirked but didn’t budge. “What’s so special about that stupid toy, anyway? It’s not like it’s food or credits.”

“It’s mine,” Nolena repeated.

The tension crackled in the air, the circle of children tightening as they sensed a fight brewing. The boy who had started it all scrambled to his feet, brushing dirt off his ragged shirt. “Just give it up, Nolena. You’re always acting like you’re better than us.”

“I don’t think I’m better,” she shot back. “I just don’t let people take what’s mine.”

With a growl, the boy lunged at her. Nolena sidestepped, her movements surprisingly quick and fluid for someone so malnourished. She brought her elbow up, catching him in the ribs, and he doubled over with a wheeze.

The girl stepped forward, swinging a broken metal rod as a makeshift club. Nolena ducked, the rod whistling past her ear, and countered with a sharp kick to the girl’s shin. The girl yelped and stumbled back.

The bear was close now, lying forgotten in the dirt. Nolena darted for it, her fingers brushing the worn fabric.

A heavy weight slammed into her from behind, knocking her to the ground. She cried out as the boy pinned her, his knees digging into her back. “You’re gonna regret that!” he snarled, raising a fist.

Time seemed to slow. Nolena’s vision blurred, her head pounding as her chest heaved. But a flicker of something else stirred somewhere deep inside, a cold, sharp instinct.

Before the boy could bring his fist down, Nolena twisted beneath him, her movements almost mechanical. Her arm shot up, blocking his strike with a precision that startled even her. Using his momentum, she shoved him off balance and rolled away, snatching the bear as she scrambled to her feet.

The other children hesitated, murmuring among themselves. Something about the way Nolena had moved wasn’t normal. It was too fast, too precise.

Clutching the bear tightly to her chest, Nolena glared at them, her breathing ragged. “Stay away from me,” she said, her voice shaking but firm.

For a brief moment, no one moved. Then, the girl with the club spat on the ground. “You’re a freak, keep the stupid bear,” she muttered, turning and walking away. One by one, the others followed. Their interest was gone now that the fight was over.

The boy was the last to leave, rubbing his ribs as he shot Nolena a venomous glare. “Just you wait, freak, this isn’t over,” he hissed before limping off after the others.

Nolena stood alone, her small frame silhouetted against the flickering light of a nearby neon sign. She looked down at the bear in her arms, its button-eye dangling precariously. Gently, she smoothed its fur, her fingers trembling.

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“I won’t let them take you,” she whispered.

The memory was faint, like a dream she couldn’t quite grasp. A warm hand placed the bear in her tiny arms—a soft and kind voice telling her to hold onto it, no matter what.

But she didn’t know whose hand. Whose voice?

Her chest ached with the weight of not knowing the gaping hole where her past should have been. She sank to the ground, pulling her knees to her chest as she cradled the bear.

The sounds of the Spire rumbled around her, indifferent to her struggle. Freight pods groaned as they ascended, and the distant shouts of workers carried on the wind.

Nolena closed her eyes, the cold metal beneath her skin humming faintly, a sensation she didn’t understand but had learned to ignore. It had been with her for as long as she could remember, which wasn’t all that long.

Nolena looked down at the worn bear, the fur rough under her fingers. She smiled as a tear rolled down her cheek.

Someday, she thought. Someday, I’ll find out who I am.

For now, though, she had the bear.

And that was enough.

***

The overhead lights seemed almost to bight as Zara watched Lyra check over Alex’s vitals. The soft hum of the monitor filled the room but was too quiet in contrast. What little Zara could make from the readouts told the same frustrating story: Alex was fine. Medically, at least. There was nothing visibly wrong with him, nothing that explained why he hadn’t woken in five days.

They had found him after the Rebel leader, Reuben, left. Alex was slumped to his knees with his head bowed. At first, Zara thought he’d been catching his breath or slipping into some meditation, but when Commander Theon touched his shoulder, Alex had crumpled to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.

And now, here they were, still waiting.

Zara turned her attention to Jax. He was standing by the floor-to-ceiling window that made up the far wall of the hospital room. The capital city of Zenara sprawled beyond the glass, alive with activity. A shuttle roared past, its engines leaving a faint tremor. Jax didn’t flinch. He just stood there, one hand resting against the window frame. His fingers twitched, barely perceptible, but Zara noticed.

"If he doesn’t wake up soon, we’ll have to inform the Empire that the Baron is unable to rule,” came Commander Theon’s voice from across the room, his tone sharp.

Jax didn’t turn. He didn’t move. He kept staring at the city, his reflection ghostly in the glass.

Zara leaned against the back of a chair, her arms folded as she glared at Theon. “You know full well what’ll happen if we do,” she said flatly. “They’ll send the army. And when they see the protests, they’ll burn the planet to crush the uprisings. Drakara won’t recover from that.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Theon snapped, his voice rising. “I’ve seen it before. The planets turned to ash. People were slaughtered for the Empire’s convenience. Do you think I stayed in their service out of loyalty? I left because I couldn’t stomach it anymore!”

“The advisors are already asking when Alex will attend the meetings,” Lyra interjected, her voice soft but firm as she returned to the monitors. “The people need a leader, Theon. They’re scared. If we can’t give them Alex, we’ll lose them.”

She tapped at the screen, pulling up Alex’s brainwave data. “But right now, he’s fighting inside his mind. Look at this.”

Zara and Theon stepped closer as Lyra brought up two screens side by side. She gestured to the lines and pulses on the left. “This is Alex’s current brain activity.” Then she pointed to the right. “And this is the scan of a normal dream state. Do you see the similarities?”

Zara squinted, the two displays blurring together in her tired mind. Lyra continued, her voice tinged with frustration. “He’s not unconscious, not really. His brain is active like he’s dreaming, but it’s… too structured. Almost like he’s trapped in a memory or reliving something.”

Zara turned back to Jax, who still hadn’t moved. “Jax,” she said quietly, trying to draw him into the conversation. “You’ve known him longer than any of us. Does this… make sense to you?”

His hand trembled again, the twitch a little stronger this time. Zara’s chest tightened.

“Jax.” Her tone sharpened, her concern laced with irritation now. “You’ve been standing there for days. Say something.”

Jax exhaled heavily, his breath fogging the glass. “You don’t know what he’s carrying,” he said finally, his voice low. “I’ve known him for as long as I can remember. Something happened when he fought. Something was said or happened… It broke whatever strength Alex was holding onto.”

Zara frowned, glancing at Theon and Lyra, who both paused to listen.

“Alex isn’t just dreaming,” Jax continued, his voice steady but raw. “If it’s anything like the last time…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Back at the orphanage, before he was adopted, there was a girl. She was younger than him, scrawny, and always trailing after him like a shadow.”

Lyra turned away from the monitors, her brows furrowed. “What happened to her?”

Jax’s hand clenched into a fist, his knuckles brushing the window. “She looked up to him, trusted him. And one day, when he couldn’t stop it… she died—some fight over food or scraps. I don’t even know the details. All I know is he blamed himself.”

The room fell silent except for the hum of the monitors.

“He never talked about it much,” Jax continued, his voice barely audible. “But it broke something in him. After that, he pushed people away, fought harder, and got angrier, like he had to make up for failing her over and over again. And if he’s trapped in his mind now…” He finally turned, his eyes heavy with guilt. “He’s probably reliving it. Or every other time he thinks he’s failed since. And trust me. Alex blames himself for alot of things.”

Zara felt her throat tighten. She hadn’t known. None of them had.

Lyra spoke up, her voice soft but resolute. “Then we have to get him out of it. Whatever he’s fighting, he can’t do it alone.”

Zara glanced at Jax again. He looked smaller somehow, his usual confidence stripped away. For the first time since they’d met, she also saw how much Alex’s burdens weighed on him.

“Jax,” she said gently. “We’re not losing him. Not now.”

Jax didn’t respond, but his shoulders stiffened.

Theon cleared his throat, breaking the tension. “Then let’s focus. If Lyra thinks he’s trapped in his own mind, there has to be a way to reach him.”

Lyra nodded, already scanning through the data. Zara stepped back, her mind racing. Whatever Alex was fighting, she just hoped he was strong enough to win