At the sound of his electronic alarm, a man with white hair got up from his bed. His eyes were still groggy from a night of drinking the day before, since, he thought why not, he was on break until the start of the academic year, so have some fun while he could.
But unlike the students who wore a uniform, this man instead dawned a white coat over his black attire. Wrapping a blue scarf around his neck, he then put on the glasses he usually wore so he could see further back into the large classrooms he worked in.
He was the head teacher at the school, so these were a must. Getting them on straight he then checked himself in the mirror. He reached over to grab a mug of freshly brewed coffee from the automatic dispenser, and sipped.
“Hah, now that’s nice… much better.” He sighed in relief, letting the initial bitterness work away at his hungover mind.
Nothing was better than fresh coffee in the morning as a pick me up, and he made sure to flavor it after his first sip. Now the way he wanted it, with extra cream and sugar, he sighed again, this time with a relished look on his face.
The man could feel the warm sugary liquid bite off the cold that was trying to seep into his skin. While he knew he had no digestive organs due to “that” accident, he could still eat and drink like everyone else.
Grabbing and checking that he had everything he needed, the white-haired man remembered something, something he needed to take to act as his good luck charm. Going over to the cabinet just beside his home’s main window which had a hilltop-like view of the Terracolony, he gazed out.
This high up, he could almost see over the immense walls of the outer perimeter, but alas, per building regulations, nothing could be made over a certain height.
While somber at how he couldn’t see the sunrise at the horizon, the man felt safe behind these walls. Recalling what he needed to grab, he slid open the drawer and took out what looked like a set of blank dog tags.
“Hello old friend, looks like I’ll need your help today.” He mumbled while smiling warmly, recalling who these were from and could still remember the gold glint of his comrade's visor.
Turning his attention back to the Terracolony and its inhabitants below, the man looked over at what his group had built. He whispered a soft congratulations.
“You’ve passed the torch everyone. Just a little more, a little more and then maybe we can reach it.”
It had been 20 years since that first and last dive into the final stardepth. While the man had been exalted as a hero and savior of humanity after persevering through the ordeal, he thought otherwise. The true heroes were those who came before him, who gave their lives and continue to give their lives now.
Ryu Kurogen came to mind and a few others, but they were off in the European block. In truth, when he thought about that last mission, very few of the original 1,000 explorers had survived the ordeal.
It saddened him to know they were gone, but in a way, those that were deceased continued to live through the citizens of this Terracolony. Like an unfaltering truth, as firm as the outer perimeter wall.
Standing as a message to those that were gone, that their sacrifice was not in vain. No life was wasted in the war, not thrown to the wind on a whim, but put forth to gain every second and chance for survival.
“Hah.” He sighed. “I still have more work to do.” As somber as he sounded, he was still glad he was alive, that humanity was alive.
Some of humanity kept telling him that he was the key factor for victory in the war. The white-haired man scoffed, thinking that those people were too ignorant. Sure, he was a lead scientist in the Explorer Program, but there was more to it.
It all started over 40 years ago, just a couple years after the Starfall Calamity. The white-haired man had discovered something, something that was both hope, and despair.
***[Decades Prior]***
The sound of the helicopter blades rang in his ears and a voice called out to him.
“Cyno? Cyno! CYNO!!”
“HUH? What?” His eyes taken away from the dog tags with his name on them, he held it tightly in reflexive fear.
This was Cyno Basa Yuno, a 30-year-old man who had a pension for marine biology and a multitude of other recreational activities under his belt. He found himself being yelled at by his assistant. Seeing the concern on his assistant’s face, Cyno asked in concern.
“What’s wrong, are we under attack?”
“NO, you idiot!” The assistant said harshly as she flicked her blue hair to the side. “Jeez, stop dozing off and hurry up and get ready for the brief. We’re almost to the site.”
“Oh yeah, sorry about that, it won’t happen again.” He sighed tiredly, wishing he had some coffee this morning. The assistant couldn’t blame him but took back those words as Cyno continued, letting slip a lazy sigh.
“But really, I have no idea what the higher ups want me to do in this situation. I’m a marine biologist, not some space scientist.” He groaned, to much of his assistant’s newfound annoyance.
“What use am I when it comes to examining some space material?” Cyno questioned himself and felt that his skill set was not up to par for what was needed for this research study.
Apparently, he was told that they faced a threat from the stars and that sounded incredibly cheesy to him.
But, just out of the blue, a letter and a group of men in military attire came to him and told him that. He thought that this was a fruitless and rushed attempt from the government to quell the populace's anxiety.
Make it look like the governing body still had control after the worldwide calamity, and so, duty called, quite literally since the American draft had begun in full swing.
Plucked from his career as an up-and-coming professor, Cyno was assigned to this quickly formed research group to deduce the reasons for the recent attacks. Attacks from unknown creatures that were appearing around the world.
“Hah, Well it doesn't matter what you think.” Said his assistant. This assistant, on the other hand, was not having any of his complaints so she quickly went ahead to the front of the helicopter to talk with the pilot. “Just put on your equipment already.” She said in a huff before leaving.
“Jeez, what’s got her in a scuffy mood.”
But Cyno already knew why. It was the year 2002, and since the 2 years after the calamity, humankind was still trying to figure out what to do. Picking up the pieces, so to say, and Cyno, among others, were left to do that job.
Putting his headgear on, he tapped the side of the apparent headphones that were built in. He heard and saw as video images ran across the heads-up display, along with the voice of a foreign general.
A Russian, Cyno thought, and a rough and tumble one at that. Display lights pinged green in the corner of his view as more voices joined this conversation as the general took roll call.
Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
Turning his head, Cyno could see past the rudimentary interface. Through the window of this transport copter, he could see another helicopter, like his own, and it was flying next to his.
In fact, hundreds of aircraft were flying in a secure column formation towards a destination. The make and model of each craft was different, attributed to how this was a joint UN operation.
As diverse as the moving column of aircrafts was, they had a unified formation that followed coherent reasoning to past doctrines of war time scenarios. A worrying detail Cyno knew since World War 1 and World War 2 were great notes to rely on.
“Alright! Let’s get this started.” The disgruntled Russian general said, his English tinged with disgust at how he had to speak in such a language in accordance with UN policy.
“Per the joint UN agreement, you all have been selected from around the world to take part in this military operation. We will be sending you to where the largest site of the recent calamity has occurred.”
A map was pulled up on Cyno’s heads up display, showing what looked like a black land mass that was circular in form but had a pitch hole at its center. Going by the scale of the map, Cyno and many others deduced that this pitch hole was hundreds of miles long.
They all gasped in silent horror. This was what was left of the state of Hawaii.
With the Big Island as its epicenter, the nearby islands were fragmented or just blown off the map entirely. It was everyone’s first time seeing this and the scale of the disaster shook them to their core.
Swallowing his fear, Cyno asked. “Sir, will we have support? I have heard that these holes are a hotbed for those unknown monster attacks.”
“Yes. Cyno? Was it? You’re keen, but do not ask such needless questions. Do as you are told and stick to your role. Am I understood!”
“Y-Yes sir!” Cyno said hesitantly, but he needed to grip his hands into a fist to hold back the anger that welled up from the general's dismissive tone.
He thought his question was valid since this seemed more like a military operation that needed more than scientists, but this uppity General saw him as nothing more than a tool in this operation.
So be it, Cyno thought, and he listened on.
“Ahem! You will be landing just off the edge of the black land mass that we are calling the black site. We’ve already established a base on the landmass, and while limited, we are somewhat capable of providing support.”
A bit of relief came over everyone as the general paused, to gauge their reaction. He nodded.
“Now, onto what you will be researching is of more importance. We’ve detected seismic activity in the area and would like you to figure out what the cause is. They align with the recent monster attacks, so they’re a clue to how this is all happening.”
The general then went on to describe the recent behavior of the unknown monsters and how this was the largest recorded site from the Starfall Calamity, highlighting its importance about the vital role they had in uncovering its secrets.
As the Russian General prattled on, Cyno took mental notes here and there. They’d help him get out of this shitty situation fast, especially since he wasn’t a fighter, but fate had other plans for him.
The comms in his ear suddenly cut out and the sounds of gunfire could be heard as A10 Thunderbolts began taking evasive maneuvers, their swerving cause the air to crack and break into booms. The helicopters did so as well, throwing Cyno around in his seat.
Luckily, he was strapped in, but still, the violent rocking was making him feel sick.
Peering out the window, he could see streaking lights as he was jostled around. Likely projectiles from an unknown source and he knew they were not friendly since the lights crashed into other helicopters, ripping into them.
He could hear the General scrambling for an answer as their side of the comms cut out and screams filled the short-range radio frequencies.
“This is group 1, under heavy fire from an unknown bogie! I can’t get a lock on them and we’re taking fire! I repeat we are taking fire! We need suppor—”
But the people’s plea over the radio cut out as more explosions filled the air.
Was this where I was going to die, in some crack pot research group that didn’t even get to study what they were supposed to.
Cyno’s life flashed before his eyes and his breathing became erratic.
The answer to Cyno’s question came as the door to his helicopter was blown off. His seat then tore from the hinges and welded down sections of the aircraft’s frame. He felt himself, and saw many others, go flying out.
The sight of the hundreds of helicopters and other aircraft being blown up above him came into view as he fell a few thousand feet to the ocean’s surface.
“Shit, shit, shit.” Cyno panicked and reached for the parachute string on his backpack, but when he pulled it, nothing came out. He tried the backup string, but nothing. ‘Dammit!’ He cursed in his mind and braced for impact, hoping he’d get lucky.
As his body hit the ocean’s surface, his equipment tried to take the force for him. What he was wearing was a prototype exosuit that was being put through its paces.
Supposedly, it should be able to act as modern tactical environmental armor, but the clunky thing looked and felt flimsy, slap shot even. Whoever made this was likely Russian or Chinese since this kind of crappy equipment seemed unpromising and disposable.
His head going faint after such thoughts, his sensations were the next thing to go as he went numb. But Cyno still felt the familiar force of gravity as he was pulled down into the dark ocean.
As his body descended, he swore he saw what looked like purple tendrils, like that of an octopus. They wrapped around him before his mind went completely dark.
The strangest thing happened next, and Cyno found himself face to face with what looked like a blue fragmented star, about the size of his hand. This was definitely a dream, but Cyno could sense this was different.
With a hand, he touched the blue fragments and a window, like a mirror, was materialized in front of him with flickering blue sparks. It just floated there, right in front of him as it defied the very physics of his academic knowledge.
In view, the visage of his familiar face was reflected, but was somewhat different. A black line streaked down each of his green eyes, when he went to touch the display his reflected hand was different.
It was oddly shaped yet still humanlike but had a sheen to it. When Cyno touched this somewhat different reflection of himself, a bright flash enveloped his sight and he next found himself in a dark place he didn’t know.
Was he dead or alive? Was this a dream or not?
He checked himself but found his body different from before and realized he was on his back. He tried to get up, but he couldn’t feel his legs.
“I wouldn’t try that.” A woman’s voice rang in the air and Cyno tensed since its tone was unlike any he had heard before. It was alluring and inviting, yet foreboding. The touch of something slimy went across his cheek and he glanced around from the somewhat helpless position he was in.
It was dark in here but there was a little light. When he looked all the way up, he saw something horrific and something glimmering gold as well.
“W-Who, Who are you?”
The two visages he saw tilted their heads as if not understanding.
“Where am I!” He shouted and the horrific one glanced at the glimmering one, but it stayed silent, its golden visage a blank canvas.
“Well, perhaps I can explain, but I don’t think you’ll believe me.” Said the horrific one.
“At this point, I’ll take what I can get. Argh!” Cyno coughed, a sudden onset of pain racked him, and he looked down at the cause. “Wah! What the hell, where are my legs! Wait a minute…..How am I even alive!”
“I told you not to try that. You’re injured beyond belief, and it's a miracle you can talk.” Said the horrific one.
Cyno began to scream and in reaction, the glimmering one knelt down beside him. The gold visage’s flaking specks of gold particles moved to Cyno.
Relief washed over him, but again, something odd happened next. His eyes bulged in surprise as a blue light then emitted from his core. After that, the rest was history, and Cyno ended his recollection whilst sipping his coffee.
“So many questions, and so little answers.” He mumbled, before leaving to attend a meeting with the Headmaster.
Apparently, a few students had a complaint about the changes in the academy and since these changes were mostly due to him, he needed to rectify it.
“Ugh, I’m getting too old for this. Wish I could play video games and watch anime all day, that would be great, right?” He sighed, as if wishing on a shooting star that even more luckier times were abound for him.
[C-R-M1 Environment Exosuit]
Description: Developed in joint partnership between Russia and China for use in the UN counter operation post Starfall Calamity. A, “supposedly”, cutting piece of equipment meant to allow humans to take heavy blows and lift heavy burdens. Developer Note: No actual testing (Aesthetics were emphasized due to a lack of proper use of systems engineering.
image [https://i.postimg.cc/pX1PqBN0/1696197359654.jpg]