Prologue: A Distant Past

Nestled amidst the rugged terrain of a mountainside, a cavernous opening beckoned, its entrance concealed amidst crumbling stone ruins. Descending into the earth's embrace, a staircase led to a vast hall, where colossal stone pillars stood sentinel against the weight of the rocks above. At the heart of this cavernous chamber rested a massive metallic sphere, its surface aglow with an otherworldly blue light.

As the sphere cast its ethereal glow, the walls revealed ancient murals etched into the stone, depicting a prophecy shrouded in mystery. These murals spoke of a black-feathered bird descending into eternal slumber within a tomb of steel, foretelling its eventual awakening as a Herald, heralding the dawn of a forgotten era.

Suddenly, the light within the chamber flickered, its brilliance diminishing with each passing moment until it faded into nothingness. The once-illuminated hall was now enveloped in impenetrable darkness, leaving only silence to fill the void.

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___________________

The steady clatter of fingers dancing across a keyboard filled the small room as Raven sat before his desktop, composing yet another application to join a scouting party. Lost in a repetitive cycle, he had long ceased counting the rejections that followed each attempt.

With a sigh, Raven leaned back, allowing his gaze to wander around the familiar confines of his quarters. The metallic walls and ceiling, now a mundane backdrop after nearly six months of living here. Across the room, his solitary bed occupied one corner, accompanied by a modest nightstand. Nearby, his lone computer sat, though devoid of any form of entertainment and limited to internal channels filled with nothing but technical and military jargon.

Despite the monotony, Raven found solace in one activity—a relentless barrage of applications aimed at securing a spot on a scouting mission. Each submission held the promise of escape from the subterranean isolation and the chance to breathe fresh air once more. A grin crept across his face as he devised a finishing touch for his latest application. With a mischievous glint in his eye, he chuckled to himself and added a cheeky note at the end: "I need sunshine in my life (seriously, I'm starting to glow in the dark down here)."

Feeling proud of himself, Raven leaned back in his chair, reflecting on how he ended up in his current predicament. With the country embroiled in war, one would expect an Ace pilot of the Anasthasian Army to be at the forefront of battle. Yet, here he was, stranded in the middle of nowhere, a token guardian of an Aether generating facility and wasting away his time sending frivolous applications.

Raven raised his hand into the air, lost in memories of flight—the thrill of soaring through the sky encased within his aether-armor, dubbed ‘Spartan’. Few had ever tasted such freedom, touching the clouds as he flew past, watching them scatter under his thunderous thrusters. Gazing down below, and beholding the rolling hills of verdant plains, the endless expanse of eldered forests, and the boundless depths of the deep ocean, all reflecting in his gleaming eyes.

His heart pounded like a war drum as he weaved through a hail of gunfire, diving straight into enemy lines. Aether surging through his veins, a fiery rush of power propelling him forward. As he plunged into the metallic chest of a titanic-mecha, piercing straight through its core. Reveling in the euphoria of power as it crumbled to the ground.

An explorer, a warrior, an adventurer—that was Raven. He thrived on discovering new sights and conquering adversaries larger than life. But now, trapped behind a desk, surrounded by familiar steel walls and ceilings, he felt frustration simmer beneath his calm exterior.

Relegated to guard duty in a remote facility due to a military scandal, leading to Raven and his fellow squadmates back then, to be branded with a derogatory nickname by the media—the 'mutant birds'. Raven couldn't help but feel the cruel irony of his predicament. A bird who once roamed the skies, seas, and land to be confined to a subterranean steel fortress of his own making.

With a heavy sigh, he powered off the computer, his reflection staring back at him from the darkened screen—black hair and brown eyes that reflected his inner turmoil. Rising from his chair, he made his way to his bed, resigned to another day of monotony. "Oh well, a new day, a new beginning," he muttered to himself, a hint of bitterness in his voice.

Turning off the lights, he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, hoping that tomorrow would bring a glimmer of hope in his otherwise bleak existence.

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Deep beneath the ocean, nestled a mile beneath the seabed, an aether power plant hummed with activity, churning out untamed aether at an alarming rate. Each passing day saw the generation of enough energy to power a whole city for a decade. Amidst the labyrinthine catacombs of metallic chambers lay the heart of this operation: a fist-sized sphere of bluish crystal.

Floating at the center of a gigantic spherical chamber, the crystal was surrounded by transparent spheres of bluish light, forming layers of containment fields to stabilize its volatile energy. Above and below, massive ducts siphoned off the raw aether it emitted, creating swirling whirlpools of twinkling concentrated particles and a blue haze that filled the chamber.

Truly, it was a sight to behold.

In the adjacent room, where dials and control panels filled the space, a team of aether engineers diligently monitored the slumbering beast. Suddenly, a green dot materialized on the edge of a radar screen, catching the attention of one of the engineers. Quickly reacting to the alert, the engineer spoke into the microphone in front of him.

“Code yellow. Prepare to deploy a scouting party.”

___________________

The soft chime of bells resonated through the darkness, accompanying the gentle glow of a phone screen as it flickered to life, casting a soft light over the metal walls of the small room.

Beneath the covers, a muffled groan sounded as an arm slowly reached towards the ringing phone resting on the nightstand. With a sleepy voice, Raven answered, "Hello? It's too early, man."

A gruff, seasoned voice crackled through the line, "Raven, what the hell!? You're on the roster for a scouting party!" Like a jolt of electricity, Raven bolted upright in bed. "What?"

The older voice persisted, "Yeah, just checked the new documents from command. You're in my squad as an accompanying officer. We're leaving at 0500. Better check the East Wing if they've still got your Spartan."

Feeling the anticipation surge within him, Raven swiftly responded, "Shit, I have to get ready. See you, David." With a decisive click, he ended the call and sprang into action. After a quick freshening up, he moved with purposeful strides towards his bed, a sense of foreboding lingering in his steps.

Beneath the bed, he retrieved a sleek black suitcase, its presence eliciting a mix of excitement and apprehension. With a deep breath, he unzipped the case, revealing a pristine white bodysuit adorned with circuit-like patterns. "I can't believe this is actually happening," he murmured to himself.

The suit—a 'neural interface suit' designed for piloting the human-sized mecha armor of the Anasthasian Army—lay before him, a symbol of both duty and power. Raven hadn't expected to wear it again so soon, but the time had come. With mounting anticipation, he slipped into the suit and emerged from his room, his destination clear: the East Wing awaited.

Walking through the familiar gloom of the metal hallways, Raven encountered fellow soldiers in the barracks, clad in their black and gray camos. Each salute he received carried a sense of reverence, accompanied by whispers of his codename, 'Blackhawk'. Raven returned the salutes with a nod, too caught up in his excitement to dwell on the attention.

As he approached the east side of the facility, the scenery shifted, and the soldiers gave way to people in white lab coats and yellow vests—researchers and engineers who instinctively gave him a wide berth upon spotting his suit.

Finally reaching the metal gate marked 'East Wing', Raven watched as it slid open, revealing a bustling scene beyond. A cacophony of drilling, hammering, and shouting filled the massive chamber, where technical staff worked tirelessly on various projects and machines. Cars and cranes darted about, transporting materials and oversized steel cylinders resembling massive gun barrels.

Known as the research sector, the east wing served as a hub for researchers and engineers to explore different applications of aether. Amidst the chaos, Raven caught sight of the receptionist desk and the black-haired woman diligently typing away at her keyboard. Approaching her, the woman quickly stood up and saluted. "Sir Raven, what brings you to the East Wing?" she inquired respectfully.

Returning the receptionist's salute, Raven quickly spoke, "Just a bit excited about finally getting a field assignment. Could you check the status on my Spartan that the MSD borrowed? There should be a request for deployment."

The receptionist nodded, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she searched the database. After a brief moment, she replied, "Sir, your Spartan is already in the armory bay. It's greenlit for deployment."

Confusion creased Raven's brow. The last report he received from the MSD indicated they would need his suit for three months. "Could you check when it left the MSD?" he asked.

The receptionist's response was swift. "The Mecha-Suit Department sent a notice of transfer at 0100, two hours ago, sir."

Nodding in acknowledgment, Raven thanked the receptionist and turned to make his way back to the South Wing where the armor bay was located. With a flick of his wrist, he activated the holographic screen on his watch, swiftly navigating to find the latest update on his Spartan. The timestamp confirmed the transfer notice had indeed been received at 0100.

"Huh, I guess it is my lucky day. The administration is definitely getting sick of me," Raven mused to himself, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he headed back to the South Wing, also known as 'The Barracks'.

Approaching the metal gate marked 'Armor Bay', Raven watched as it slid open before he even reached it, revealing a squadron of armored soldiers marching out. Clad in the standard mecha-armor design, the Pioneer, they halted in unison upon spotting him, offering a crisp salute, and addressing him in unison as "Ace Pilot Raven."

Returning the salute, Raven inquired, "Guard shift at the Central Sector?" The leading corporal, distinguished by the 'T' shaped visor, confirmed, "Yes sir."

Raven continued toward the armor bay, offering a parting remark, "Good luck. Try not to get too bored." He couldn't help but feel sympathy for them; the central sector shift was notorious for being the least desirable assignment. It meant hours of mind-numbing vigilance, staring at a metal wall next to the ticking time bomb of an Aether Core.

Upon entering the armor bay, Raven was greeted by the familiar sight of rows and rows of capsules containing human-sized mecha armor. From his left, a voice belonging to a technical staff member greeted him, informing him, "Sir Raven, your Spartan is in bay 4-C." With a nod of acknowledgment, Raven proceeded toward the designated bay.

As he traversed the rows of capsules, Raven peered through the glass, recognizing various designs of mecha-armor. The Ranger, with its overhanging visor and large module on its back, specialized in scouting and recon. The Tyrant, with its bulky build, boasted impressive strength and power output. And the Pioneer, renowned for its efficiency and versatility, had become the standardized mecha armor of the army.

Finally, his eyes fell upon his own 'Spartan'. This prototype armor, with a helm inspired by ancient Roman warriors, exuded both power and elegance. With unmatched speed and agility promised by its sleek design and insane thruster strength, it was likely the only one of its kind in existence. Piloting required a level of endurance beyond the ordinary, as the G-forces experienced during flight would turn most pilots' organs to mush.

Placing his hand on the scanner beside the capsule, Raven waited for a moment before the capsule slowly opened with a soft whirring noise. As the armor powered up, metal plates shifted and moved, unveiling the pulsating blue lines of aether underneath. A broad grin spread across Raven’s face as he stood before his pride and joy.

The Spartan boasted curves and edges in all the right places, giving anyone wearing it the appearance of a badass sci-fi warrior. Complete with a companion A.I. fully integrated into the Spartan-themed helmet, it represented the pinnacle of state-of-the-art aether combat armor.

"Hey there, beautiful. I hope you slept well~" Raven reached out and placed his palm on the chest of the armor. Neon blue lines quickly spread from underneath his palm, creating a circuit-like pattern all over its surface. With a mechanical clack, the front of the armor opened, inviting its pilot inside.

As Raven stepped into the armor, he felt the familiar cold embrace as steel enveloped him. A slight sting on his back signaled the insertion of a needle, followed by a warm sensation coursing through his veins and spreading throughout his body. It was a sensation he knew all too well—the culmination of years of research and months of agony. The result of the experiment that had claimed thousands of lives: aether reinforcement.

By injecting their bodies with nanites and introducing unstable aether directly to their bloodstream. The researchers would just then hope for the best. Some subjects exploded, others melted, but a few, like Raven, gained unique traits. His own trait was endurance.

It granted his body the ability to withstand extreme conditions and trauma. Raven recalled the time he was struck by a metal cube traveling at 100 km/h, his body sent flying across the testing room. Yet, he had risen unscathed, as if nothing had happened, giving birth to the idea of Spartan. Those were certainly... interesting times.

As the aether fully saturated his body, Raven heard a feminine robotic voice echoing in his mind.

[Initializing]

[Neural Link: Green]

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[Aether Cells: Green]

[System CvR: Green]

[Navigation Syste. . .

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[Spartan Cd43 online]

[Welcome back, pilot Raven, ‘Blackhawk’ of the Birds of Prey]

"I'll never get tired of this," Raven remarked with a quirky grin spreading across his face. Stepping out of the capsule, he flexed and shifted his limbs, relishing the sensation. Peering through the visor of his helm, he savored the unique scent of steel and aether, a smile blossoming on his lips. Clenching his fist, he looked up as his eyes gleamed in a new light. "It’s time to get some sunshine," he remarked to himself as he strode purposefully to the deployment meeting, where he would meet up with David.

Mid-stride, however, a nagging sensation pricked at the corner of his mind, prompting him to halt abruptly. "Spartan, run a full diagnosis," he commanded, his voice echoing softly within the confines of his helmet.

[All systems operational]

Glancing back at the capsule, he simply shrugged off the doubt creeping into his mind and resumed his stride.

___________________

Raven observed as a torrent of water began rushing into the airlock, quickly filling the space. Surrounded by the scouting party, he noted their lithe mecha-builds, all designed for agility and speed. Among them was the Ranger he had seen back at the armory bay.

After a brief discussion of the mission, they proceeded to the surface for deployment, standing before the massive metal gate. Raven felt anticipation coursing through him, imagining the sensation of flight once more. Breaking the silence of the rushing water, David's gruff voice rang out, authoritative yet tinged with familiarity.

"You've all been briefed," David began, his gaze sweeping over the group. "We're conducting a quick survey of sector 4A. Standard procedures apply—keep the aether footprint to a minimum. And that means no blasting rocks for fun. Looking at you, George," he added, prompting snickers from the group as he singled out a figure in the rear.

With a nod toward Raven, David continued, "And try not to make a fool of yourself in front of the distinguished ace pilot." Raven responded with a nonchalant thumbs up. "Glad to be part of the party. Just here for sightseeing," he quipped.

As the room filled with water, David turned and commanded, "Get ready for deployment." Metallic clanks echoed as the massive gate slowly parted open, revealing the dark abyss of the ocean floor. Stepping out, Raven felt himself sink slightly into the sand. Activating the light on his helmet, a beam pierced the darkness, revealing the endless expanse of the ocean floor, dotted with occasional rocks protruding above the sand.

He felt a weight lift from his chest, as his eyes wandered over the vast expanse stretching out before him. His gaze drifted upwards, past the dancing schools of fish that meandered through the currents, to the distant promise of the surface. The skies beckoning him, reminding him of the freedom he had yearned for. Gone were the confining metal walls that had defined his world for the past months; now, he stood beneath the endless expanse of the ocean.

Lost in his reverie, Raven was jolted back to reality by the roar of aether thrusters behind him. David's voice crackled through a private channel within Raven's helmet, a hint of amusement evident even through the static. "Looks like someone's finally spreading their wings. Don't lag behind." Raven could practically picture the smirk on David's face as he sped upwards with the rest of the scouting party, leaving Raven to chase after them towards the surface.

“Try to keep up first, old man,” Raven replied with amusement in his voice, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

With a mental nudge, several metal plates on his armor shifted to reveal the glowing neon-blue thrusters, growing brighter each second. Watching as they grew further away, Raven asked Spartan, “What’s the protocol for minimal aether footprint?”

[Recommended output: 30%]

“Let’s keep it at 20% just to be safe,” Raven decided, crouching down as he felt the thrusters’ heat intensify. Water bubbled and turned into steam, then with a powerful blast, he propelled himself upwards, kicking up sand in his wake. As Spartan's acceleration surged, he felt the heat building within him, his trait working to keep his body together. Cutting through the water like a blade, he swiftly overtook the rest of the squad in a matter of seconds.

With growing anticipation, he approached the surface, the light above him initially a mere speck that gradually expanded to encompass his whole vision. Until finally, it enveloped him, and with a large plume of water, he emerged.

The warmth of the sun, the endless blue skies, the pillowy white clouds, and the vast sea stretching to the horizon welcomed him. Hovering just above the water's surface, he observed the undulating waves and drifting clouds, a warmth traveling throughout his body as he drew in a deep breath.

Raven closed his eyes, savoring the moment in silence for a while. Then, with a sudden boom, he launched high into the sky, streaking through the air like a bullet. Piercing through the clouds, he let out a maniacal laugh, surrendering himself to gravity as he felt his whole body become weightless. Falling from the sky, he watched the curve of the far horizon, the navy-blue waters of the sea, and in that moment, he truly felt alive. This, he thought, was life.

Catching the sight of the rest of the squad breaking through the surface of the ocean, he flew down to join them as he heard David’s voice in his left ear. “Glad to have you back in the air, Blackhawk, of the Birds of Prey.” Raven settling into formation gave David a nod as he heard him switch to the squad channel to address everyone. “Maintain formation and hold low altitude, our ETA is 2 hours. Move out.

Time crawled by, with Raven relishing the sensation of flight, his eyes drinking in the vast expanse of the ocean below. Far from growing weary of the endless blue, he found himself grinning like a child in an amusement park, each moment a thrill of its own. His gaze often drifted to the rest of the squad, particularly to the Ranger, its advanced long-distance sensors making it the eyes and ears of their operation. The Ranger dutifully kept them informed, its voice breaking the silence intermittently with updates gleaned from its sensors.

"Nothing on the horizon," it would report, its steady reassurance a comfort in the empty skies.

As Raven's eyes scanned the horizon, he caught sight of a flock of birds. It had been a long time since he last saw a bird, reminding him of the story behind his past squad's name—the Birds of Prey.

It was during an operation, everyone was stressed and tense, that’s when the Ranger in their squad misidentified a flock of birds as an enemy battalion. Leading them to accidentally blast an innocent group of avians straight into the afterlife. The incident broke the tension, resulting in laughter and the coining of their squad's name.

In the midst of a chuckle, Raven's amusement turned to alarm as a chilling realization struck him like a bolt of lightning. With a quick glance back at the Ranger, his heart skipped a beat as he recognized it —it was the same model.

His heart raced within his chest, igniting a surge of adrenaline as he instinctively activated his sensors, unleashing a powerful wave of aether from his Spartan armor.

David’s startled voice crackled over the intercom, “What the hel-,” his words cut short by Raven's sudden mid-flight tackle, sending them both plummeting to the ocean below, Spartan’s thrusters roaring in their ears.

Above them, the air crackled with the deadly hum of razor-sharp drones, known as wasps, slicing through the squad with deadly precision. A deafening explosion followed, enveloping the surroundings in blinding light as destabilized aether erupted from the armor, propelling Raven, and David into the depths of the sea.

Landing with a splash of sand, Raven scanned their surroundings while David gathered his bearings. They found themselves on the sea floor, amidst the shifting sands and rocky outcrops. Raven's gaze swept the underwater landscape, searching for any signs of the Ranger who had likely betrayed them.

Turning to his colleague, who was still recovering from the rough descent, Raven inquired, "When did that Ranger join your squad?"

David, bent over and catching his breath, met Raven's gaze and whispered, “Collin… he joined last… month.” As Raven's eyes roamed over the rocks and sand, his mind raced, replaying the events of the previous month. "Last month... the new arrivals," he muttered, piecing together the puzzle.

Like a sudden shock, the memory of the recent influx of personnel hit Raven. Unfamiliar faces had appeared throughout the facility, even in the barracks, a development that had puzzled him at the time given their remote location. But now, with the pieces falling into place, a sinking feeling gripped Raven. “The squad going to the central sector,” he muttered, a sense of dread creeping over him.

With a plan taking shape in his mind, Raven swiftly turned around to check on David. “David, you good?” he inquired urgently. David, still visibly shaken, stood up shakily and looked at him, his words tumbling out in a mixture of frustration and disbelief. “It was the fucking recruit, wasn’t it? Shit, this was our fourth operation, I thought-.”

Raven cut him off sharply. “Snap out of it, David. We’ll have time for grief later. Can you still fly?” he pressed, his tone firm. He received a curt nod in response. “Good. Then I need you to fly east, towards the closest outpost. They’ve probably fried our main lines by now, and I need you to call for reinforcements. Clear?”

David looked at him, confusion clouding his expression. “What about you?” he asked, uncertain.

Raven turned his head towards the direction of the facility, a cold gleam shining in his eyes. Giving a resolute nod, he replied, “I'll handle things here.”

David stared at him as a few seconds passed, before he turned around and activated his thrusters, a deep rumble traveling through the water. “Good luck, Blackhawk,” he said, the roar of thrusters filling Raven's ears as David flew towards the outpost.

Watching David's departing figure, Raven murmured to himself, "They'll need it more than me, David." His heart racing with anticipation, but before he could proceed, he needed to confirm something. "Spartan, code 4C3F8C," he commanded. As the words left his lips, his entire armor shut down, enveloping him in darkness.

[Initializing code: 4C3F8C]

[System Hard Reset]

[10%...]

[30%...]

[78%...]

[System restored]

[Warning: Aether Core leak detected]

[Rerouting energy lines]

[Sealing fractured frames]

[Aether Core functionality restored]

Light returned to Raven’s vision, igniting a fierce glare in his eyes. “Those bastards,” he growled, “if I hadn’t limited my output to 20%, I would've been one hell of a firework display.” With a steely determination, he commanded, “Too bad it was my lucky day, fuckers. Spartan, maximum output.”

Steam billowed from the surface of his armor, enveloping him in a shroud of energy as the water around him churned and boiled. A torrent of aether surged through his armor, causing the glowing lines beneath to flare with intense light. Then, like a tempest unleashed, his thrusters erupted in a deafening roar. Despite his enhanced physique, he felt his insides churn from the sudden acceleration as he shot out of the sea and into the sky, aimed directly at the facility. With a thunderous boom, a shockwave reverberated through the air, announcing Raven’s breakneck speed as he shattered the sound barrier.

It had been too long since Raven's last battle, and he could feel his senses sharpening as adrenaline surged through his veins. Speeding through the sky, a wave of nostalgia washed over him, prompting a shallow sigh. Memories flooded his mind: the exhaustion from months of relentless operations, the sorrow of losing comrades, and the fierce determination to avenge them. It felt like he was returning from a prolonged hiatus, back to where he truly belonged.

Lost in his reverie, Raven was snapped back to reality by Spartan's voice in his head.

[Aether-frame detected, bearing 70 degrees, distance 20 kilometers]

With a swift change of direction, Raven accelerated towards the target. As the distance between him and the probable Ranger mecha-armor rapidly diminished, his muscles tensed. The enemy had waited until they could eliminate him before attacking the facility— they were afraid, terrified even. It must have been a shock for them to see him walking through the barracks unscathed.

He was no ordinary pilot; he was the renowned ace known as 'Blackhawk,' and the enemy was about to realize their grave mistake in letting him live.

In his peripheral vision, Raven spotted the Ranger. Then with a burst of acceleration, he reached out with his hand. Before the traitorous Ranger could even react, a resounding crack filled the air as Raven's supersonic fist punched straight through its steel visor, sealing its fate.

Undeterred by the confrontation, Raven pressed on towards the facility, his heart beating like a drum and his eyes gleaming with a steely determination. With a wide grin spreading across his face, he embraced the thrill of a battle, re-entering supersonic speeds as the wind whipped the blood on his arm into a crimson spray.

Deep inside, he felt a sense of gratitude for the unexpected excitement that had come knocking at his doorstep in his final hours.

___________________

In the depths of the steel catacombs, a luminous blue crystal loomed over Frank, each pulse sending shockwaves of aether through the chamber, causing his chest to pound heavily. Beads of sweat trickled down his neck as he feverishly typed commands into the control panel before him. Suddenly, a muffled explosion rocked the chamber, sending tremors through its walls.

Glancing over his shoulder, Frank spotted his assistant scurrying about, assisting with the shutdown procedures. His gaze then fell upon the massive blast gates that stood as the last line of defense against the infiltrators.

The chaos had erupted so suddenly that Frank barely had time to register it. The facility's guards had turned on them without warning, unleashing several aether blasts that singed his once-white vest black. The memory of one of his assistants dying with a large hole in his torso haunted him still.

Shaking off the shock, Frank refocused on his task: deactivating the aether crystal that powered the entire facility. As he stared at the pulsating crystal, a knot formed in his throat at the thought of the enemy faction seizing control of it.

For the past seven months, Frank had dedicated himself to researching the crystal's capabilities, ever since the Birds of Prey discovered and claimed it during Operation Starfall. It was a monumental find, rivaling the discovery of Aether itself decades ago.

The mere thought of the enemy seizing the crystal sent a shiver down Frank's spine. The consequences could be catastrophic, spelling doom for the world as he knew it. A steely resolve flashed in his eyes; he'd sooner obliterate the monstrous core than allow it to fall into the wrong hands.

But just as he grappled with this grim decision, a sudden interruption shattered his focus. "Gerald! We need to decouple th-," Frank's command was cut short as a sharp prick pierced his neck. Paralyzed, he crumpled to the grated floor, every limb rendered numb.

Through the haze of his panic, Frank recognized the voice that spoke next—a voice he had known for a lifetime, now twisted with betrayal. "I'm sorry, Professor Frank, but your mind is too valuable to waste," Gerald's words dripped with an icy chill.

Trapped in his immobile state, Frank could only shift his gaze to meet Gerald's cold stare looking down at him. "Don't look at me like that, Professor," Gerald continued, his tone devoid of warmth. "We've been through a lot, but I'll ensure you're treated fairly in your new lab."

Gerald strode purposefully towards the control panel, pushing the button to open the massive gate. Anticipation gnawed at him as he awaited the arrival of the squad he had snuck into the base.

But what he saw next stole the breath from his lungs and froze him in place. Instead of a team, there stood only a single mecha-armor amidst a scene of carnage, Spartan. Blood and severed limbs littered the ground beneath its feet, a grim testament to the violence that had unfolded.

As the Spartan turned its gaze towards him, a surge of panic gripped Gerald's heart. He glanced down at the syringe in his hand and the paralyzed form of the professor on the ground. "Wait, I can expla-," his plea was cut short by the crushing force of a fist, ending his life in an instant.

Raven had raced through the crumbling facility, blood pounding in his veins as an enemy armada was closing in on their location. Time was running out. He hurried to the professor's side, crouching down to check on him.

"Frank, you good man?" he asked, his voice edged with urgency.

As he helped the professor sit up, Raven cursed under his breath as he realized Frank was paralyzed but still conscious. "Shit, Frank, listen to me," he said urgently. "Enemy ships are closing in fast. Reinforcements won't arrive in time. We need to evacuate immediately."

With a sense of determination, Raven lifted the professor onto his shoulders, his mind racing as he heard a faint whisper. "The… core…"

"The core?" Raven's eyes darted to the center of the chamber, where the pulsating crystal floated within its containment fields.

"Destroy it," the professor muttered, his voice weak but resolute.

Raven stood in silence; his gaze fixed on the floating orb of crystal. Memories flooded his mind, each one etched with pain and loss. He knew that crystal all too well, for he was the reason it rested here in this facility.

Starfall. The operation that changed everything. He and his squad had embarked on what they thought was just another mission. Only for a month later, he alone would return, battered, and bruised. Carrying with him a steel capsule containing that ominous crystal orb. In that moment, he became the solitary Bird of Prey. In honor of his fallen comrades, he had revealed the truth behind their origin, sealing his fate as the guardian of the remote facility containing the very object that had claimed their lives.

And it was about to claim his.

"Funny how life works," he muttered, a bitter chuckle escaping his lips.

With resolve in his heart, Raven swiftly moved to extract the paralyzed professor from the chamber. As he laid the professor down in the cold metal hallway, Raven's voice cut through the silence, laced with dark humor. "Hey, remember to put up a damn big fucking statue on my grave," he remarked.

With heavy steps echoing in the corridor, Raven returned to the chamber, ready to face whatever fate awaited him.

Looking around him, Raven observed the swirling haze of blue aether and sparkling energy particles as they slowly spiraled towards the large ducts, being siphoned away to create a mesmerizing sight reminiscent of a galaxy.

As he heard the heavy metallic clank signaling the closing of the massive gates behind him, Raven took a moment to absorb his surroundings. The chamber, aptly named 'The Tomb', boasted massive steel beams holding its structure together and walls made of 4A-Metallic Alloy, each five meters thick. It was designed to withstand even a theoretical aether core meltdown—a fitting final resting place for Raven.

"Spartan, it was a nice last ride," Raven said with a tinge of melancholy in his voice.

With a buzzing noise filling the air, Raven flipped a switch, causing the numerous stabilizing fields to dissipate, allowing the crystal to violently vibrate in place.

There was truly only one method to destroy the crystal. Raven raised his hand, directing his open palm straight at it. Heat surged through his armor's chest, coursing towards his arm and gathering in his hand. Steam hissed from the gaps in his armor, a telltale sign of the incredible amount of aether flowing through it.

With a sudden whoosh, the air crackled as a powerful beam of energy erupted from his hand, striking the crystal core with force. Chaos erupted within the chamber. The entire structure shook and buckled under the strain as Raven beheld an unimaginable amount of aether. His skin prickled with the sensation of burning, his flesh writhing as if in agony. A torrent of blue haze gushed from the cracking crystal, seemingly unending, like a volcano erupting with unmatched fury.

Mesmerized by the spectacle, Raven held his breath. The once chaotic energy suddenly took on a new form, swirling and dancing as if guided by an unseen hand. It rose and fell, expanded and contracted, almost as if it were... alive.

Then suddenly, with the sound of breaking glass, glowing sapphire symbols materialized in thin air, resembling ancient runes. They rotated around the fracturing crystal core, seemingly absorbing the torrential aether.

Raven stood in awe, his jaw slackened, as he witnessed the mesmerizing phenomenon unfolding before him. Amidst the chaos of screeching steel and shattering glass, he felt a soft tickle in the corner of his mind. Focusing, he heard a whisper — a voice echoing with a timeless quality, speaking truths that spanned the breadth of existence. "Mana... eternal..."

As the words lingered in the air, the runes blazed with renewed brilliance, growing brighter with each passing moment. Sensing that his moment had arrived, Raven muttered under his breath, "I'll see you soon, brothers." A blinding white light enveloped him and everything around him, leaving behind a lingering sense of wonder and anticipation, as if the story had only just begun.