He was scared.

The noises behind the door made his heart race faster; the tears fell faster.

His cries were silent.

The sound of gunfire was barely audible.

The employees in the kitchen seemed unable to hear the crying kid. The sizzling pans, chopping vegetables, and boiling pots muffled the sound of his cries.

His ears were ringing.

His eyes began to dry out.

His throat was parched, like the desert.

His hands clasped over his ears.

He wanted to scream for help, but he had already done that. He tried to run, but his legs wouldn't move. At this moment, he kept wondering why he didn't move as the wall behind him could have broken and killed him.

His answer was clear: Fear.

Only ten seconds remained until help arrived. The blinking colon told him them.

Nine.

Kevin just left the staff bathroom to find Drew in his pitiful position.

Eight.

Kevin noticed the intercom and realized something was happening in the office, but he didn't dare open the door.

Seven.

Kevin began to panic, turning his head from side to side as he shouted something inaudible.

Six.

The sound of a pot dropping on the tile floor could be heard from the kitchen around the corner.

Five.

Drew felt his body lifted by the burly middle-aged cook. At the same time, Rika popped her head around the corner. Feeling the slight vibration coming from the other side of the wall, Rika scrambled to pick up Drew's things off the floor.

Three.

The fire alarm went off, and Rika and Kevin began to rush out of the building, closely following some staff members who were also pushing their way out.

Two.

Everyone in the kitchen pushed out the door to the main hall.

One.

An explosion blasted through the vicinity. Setting the kitchen and the back rooms ablaze. A bloodied body came flying out along with it. Kevin and Rika kept looking forward, but Drew took a glance back.

The figure's eyes were open, but he did not move a limb.

He couldn't believe it.

A black figure remained standing through the doorway. His hood was ripped. The red, translucent mask that covered his eyes was broken, revealing the figure's crimson eyes. Blood trickled down his pale skin, dripping from his chin and staining the wood floor. A gun was held loosely in his left hand. His face quickly contorted from one of exhaustion to one of triumph, revealing his sharp canines.

Zero.

The black figure fired one final shot then vanished into thin air.

Everyone had made it out safely. Five men wearing white bodysuits emerged from behind, the glass shards crunching under their feet. A drone hovered behind them and scanned the surroundings, but there was no trace of the killer except for the silver bullet protruding from the other end of the figure's head.

They were too late.

Winter was dead.

>>>

It's been ten minutes since help arrived. Drew was sitting on a chair in the lunch area. Rika and Kevin stared at him with concern. Drew was overwhelmed.

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"It can't be," Drew trembled, his breathing staggering, "Uncle Winter is not dead. He can't be dead!"

"What exactly happened in there, Li?" Kevin asked,d placing down a water bottle from the closest vending machine.

Drew couldn't answer. His ears began to ring even more. His eyes grew hollow as he tried to process the last half hour.

"Hic..." He sniffled. He was clearly shaken. "I don't know. I don't know."

Rika pat Kevin on the back, "We should give him some space."

"Alright." Kevin sighed, scratching the horn on his head.

Rika dragged Kevin to the other side of the building, leaving Drew to comprehend the events that had just happened in the past few minutes. The Buddha Box, the outdated supercomputer cube, and the wristband on the metal table beside him were in a neatly stacked pile.

His head was throbbing as fragmented scenes flew through his mind.

Uncle Winter's bloodied body.

The assassin with the gun.

The broken glass.

The door bursts open.

The monotone voice of the operator.

The sound of the gunshot.

Everything was a mess.

His green hair was sticking out in all directions. His emerald eyes had lost some luster. His uniform was slightly torn in some places, dried snot stuck to the roof of his nostrils, and his wristband was broken.

Drew took a swig of the cool water.

It felt refreshing, calming his nerves slightly. His senses started to return. Drew removed his wristband and removed the chip. Luckily, it was still intact. He tossed his broken wristband into the garbage can behind the chair and inserted the chip into an open slot in Uncle Winter's. The wristband powered on with a green check mark, indicating that his data had synced over successfully.

For the next fifteen minutes or so Drew just stared into the sky. The white cotton candy clouds difiting lazily above while the two suns shone their light over the campus. He craned his neck. Rika had just come back.

"You okay now?" Rika asked, leaning over.

Drew nodded, shifting his head forward, catching a glimpse of Kevin who was standing not too far behind.

"A little. I think I can form coherent sentences."

"Well, there are some Security Officers who need testimony from you," Kevin said, pointing to a man wearing a white suit with Star's famous logo embroidered in blue. The man was around 180 centimeters tall and had strawberry-blond hair neatly brushed back to reveal his forehead and aqua-blue eyes. His tan, athletic build enhanced his features, making him look like a fashion model rather than a regular security officer. The man slowly approached Drew with a solemn look on his face.

"You are Drew Li, I presume?" he spoke with an accent.

"Yes, sir," Drew replied with a stuffy voice.

"John Krishman, Captain of Star Academy's Security Team. Nice to meet you, Mr. Le."

Drew nodded with a weak smile. Meanwhile, Kevin and Rika moved away quietly once again, leaving Drew and John alone.

John held up his wristband, projecting an image of Uncle Winter and tapping the play icon on his recording application, " I'll need to ask you some questions regarding Linus Winter and the events that transpired. Can you spare some time?"

"Sure," Drew responded, "I'll tell you everything."

Drew told John as much as he could recall. From when Uncle Winter called him in to give him his bonus to when the assassin started firing shots and how he was dragged out of the building. Even while giving his testimony, he found the words getting lodged in the back of his throat.

"So you're saying that an Assasssat in the chair besideed shooting Linus Winter, and you don't know the reason why?"

"No," Drew said with a crestfallen expression.

"Try to recall. Is there anything that you noticed held any value to him?"

The Buddha box was the first thing on his mind, it was sitting there on the table in broad daylight. It was only right for him to tell the Officer about it yet something urged him not too. Drew had always trusted his gut and it's always been right. Now, it was time to trust it once more.

"That box," John continued. "You've been keeping an eye on it for some time."

Great. Drew cursed. Just had to jinx it.

"It was a gift to me from Uncle Winter...belated birthday gift."

"A traditional man wasn't he?"

"Elegant. He held himself with an elegance no one here has seen before."

"Alright," John sighed, pressing the off button on his wristband, "Thank you for your help. My condolences."

But to Drew, those were empty words.

Help came too late, and someone died because of that.

Uncle Winter died.

"No," Drew shook his head. There was no point trying to blame Security for coming too late. The moment the assassin fired his first shot, it was already over. Perhaps it was grief getting to him, but it's not like he could rewind time. "I'm sorry I couldn't provide any leads."

"Don't worry. You wouldn't have know anyways." John said, standing up and fixing his uniform, "I've looked at your records. Fifty Krasos and [Aegis]. Are you trying to become a student here?"

"Yes," Drew replied, "Fifty more Krasos before I can apply as a student."

"Well, just your luck," John spoke "We plan to reward you with a high-rank regiment and some basic Combat manuals."

"What?" He was stunned. "That's too generous! I can't accept this!"

Despite Drew's desperation to become an Intergalactic Warrior, he at least had some restraint when it came to tempting offers like this, as they often came with a catch. A high-ranking regiment is not something one could easily acquire, and Combat Arts manuals are even more challenging to obtain as only specialized dojos and military academies have the right to sell to the public. Moreover, the demand outweighed the supply for both, making them quite expensive.

John chuckled, "You're young and have a lot of potential. This is a small gift from Star, the Academy that believes in potential. No strings attached, of course. Now take it. You have a bright future ahead of you. Living on is what the deceased would have wanted. I can tell you from experience."

Drew was at a loss for words.

"One more thing," John continued while getting ready to depart, "Star will cover all funeral expenses. The date and time will be sent to you in the next few days. We're sorry for your loss and I hope to see you here as a student soon."

Again, those words felt empty to Drew.

He wasn't even sure what he was supposed to do any more.

August 5th, 0473 I.E., 1:10 PM, would be the day etched in the boy's memory for a very long time.