Kato plummeted towards a blue-white sphere in his voidship, hundreds of other blocky Toravi vessels falling behind him. Near the front of the armada, he piloted his sleek Interceptor. He had hopes of arriving first. This world was one he had long envied: Aziru. Ancient. Once-abandoned. Beautiful. It had been a source of consternation for him ever since his first visit.

The black cloth of space peeled away, and the ocean expanded to fill his entire field of view. Its features became more clear as he approached. Dark-green islands, verdant and pure. White cliffs. A steel city, rising from the water in a ring. A thin, persistent fog that encompassed this world and hid the sky. Surrounding all of it, a blanket swaddling the life of Aziru, was this marbled blue-and-white ocean. It sank into darkness as the sun set behind Kato.

The pilot pulled the nose of his voidship up, flying parallel with the water. Traveling a hundred meters each second, he left a wake in the water behind him and arrived in moments at the city. His target was on a central island. A stone building, a monolith surrounded by incongruent structures. Steel spires, dark against the dark ocean, that were connected by roads of blue light.

The city was miles wide, some of it built on land, and most reaching up out of the water. Every building flaunted needless frippery of one kind or another. Curling twists, glass observation decks, statues. They could have built stronger structures, and more quickly, had they opted for simple blocks. Still, Kato couldn’t deny that he would be sad to see the beautiful city destroyed.

Not all of it was without function. Towers and bunkers throughout the city sported massive, neoteric weapons of a dozen varieties. Those were already firing glowing projectiles towards the approaching Toravi fleet that Kato had preceded. But Kato was fast.The pilot’s ship flew along untroubled, for the moment, by attempts to destroy it.

His ship swooped between towers, and crashed through a bridge, spilling people down to the water below. I could have pulled up a little, he thought, grimacing. The monument stood just ahead. Given the eclectic variety of projectiles harrying him, he decided not to slow himself to land. He had to get in and out. Quickly.

The fire the two parties began to exchange - and the nuclear fire that his peoples’ bombships were eager to release - was not one that the stone building would survive. This monument had stood here for time immemorial, well before Kato had been born, and even before the war had begun. But today, in the fire meant for the city, it would be destroyed.

Before the city had been here, before Aeglatharans had been on this world at all, Kato had visited this temple. This monument to a forgotten deity. It seemed in just as great of a condition as it had at his last visit, and was attended by a great many ant-sized figures clambering out far below to flee. Why are there people in the temple? The quicker ones among them made it to ships, flying towards the well-defended city. The laggards began to disappear in fatal flashes of light that spat up showers of rock. Some of them wore the grey armor of Aeglatharan Knights. Most did not.

There was a massive roar, and fire filled Kato’s vision and cracked the glass. The ship was suddenly rattling like a loose bolt, and his hands had already been slick with sweat. If there hadn’t been shields, that shot would have put a premature end to the mission. Kato let off a few conciliatory rounds while he still had enough of a lead to strike the people on the ground, then rolled his starship so that his head was facing down. Kato pulled on his equipment, pulled the lever beneath his seat, and was ejected.

The interceptor continued gliding through the air for several hundred meters, before colliding with the shields of one the towers. It generated an ear-shattering explosion. Only one of dozens, now that the two sides were battling in force. Ships flew up from the city, and from beneath the ocean, to meet those coming to them from Toravyn.

Kato, spinning like a tire off its axle, could make out nothing until he struck the ground. The impact immediately shattered his personal shields and drained them dry. Kato was fortunately intact, with only a few bruises. Already running, he patted himself down. He checked his rifle for damage and gave a cursory inspection of his other equipment. The world around him was illuminated faintly by the blue lights of the city, and now more prominently by orange blazes from the many fires that surrounded him. Their acrid chemical scent mingled with the smell of sea salt, and of sweat dripping inside of his helmet.

“Ground contact,” Kato whispered into the radio. “I’m going to see if they have any valuable data here.” He had landed on the steps of the monolith, as intended, and now was headed up to get inside and see what he could find. He saw invisible domes around the city shimmer with blue light each time they invisible rays, or a ship-sized bolt of lead, struck against them. Some of these shattered, allowing the towers to be consumed in grey fire and lightning. They toppled like stacks of rocks, with a familiar sound like a thousand engines firing at once.

One of the Knights in grey armor, fleeing from within, caught sight of Kato. The Knight’s weapon had not risen its point from the ground before quiet force, ejected from Kato’s rifle, sent him careening off the side of the megastructure and into the natural moat below. Kato was prepared. He had been defeated several times trying to investigate the power inside of this structure before the invasion, and he refused to let this, his final opportunity before this world was set on fire, be wasted.

“They won’t have anything! Get back to the station and grab another ship!” a comrade called through Kato’s helmet. “We need every pilot we can get!” Kato decided to disregard this advice, for the moment. He wasn’t really after data anyways; He’d come back to help finish the invasion, if time allowed.

At the top, rows of simple stone doors led him into a larger chamber, with a pedestal at the back atop a stage. An altar? The room was as wide as the entire monolith, capping it off. There were slabs for seating, and modern workstations had been set up all around the room. Now vacant save for an Aeglatharan man at the far end. The many items abandoned along the ground implied sudden surprise, and a rushed escape.

An intriguing primitive image of some ephemeral mutant creature with many ribbon-like arms and a shapeless head was plastered on its ceiling. Countless stick figures at its base were depicted bowing to it. Azirulites. The extinct race of men who once had dwelled on this world. A dark-pink-skinned man in robes had not fled with the rest; He was destroying data chips at the far corner of the room with a brick. Kato lifted his rifle and pulled the trigger. With no noise save squelching, the man was reduced to chunks.

This was as far as Kato had been able to come last time, several weeks ago. Now, he was able to make his way into the… Cathedral chamber? He paused for a moment by the man he had killed, crimson blood seeping onto his boots. The datachips might contain important information. More likely they were relevant to some meaningless anthropological investigation of the monument, but perhaps they had clues about the voice. Or new technology. The puddle at his feet had stayed to destroy them, after all. It would give him something to show the Assembly if they questioned his course of action.

He left a scanner cube there to upload the contents of the chips to his personal servers, and ran into a passage at the back of the room. A massive staircase met him there, with a large hollow center. He fixed a winch to the platform at the top, driving a bolt into the floor to secure it before rappelling down with his harness.

His frantic rush through a frenetic city-turned-battlefield became a frantic rush through a calm, stone ruin. The only sound was the occasional rumbling of explosions large enough to cause a tiny tremor in the walls, the rush of slackening cable, and dripping water in distant halls. He could feel the sweat in his gloves, the aching bruises in his flesh. All contributed to rising anxiety, to the idea that he might not find answers.

This calm journey was just as stressful as his entry above. At least up there, he had known what he was searching for. Now his responsibility was to find the voice. The source of that whispering that scratched at his head every time he slept. The source of the empty dreams he had at night, like peering at a stone in the bottom of a silt-clouded pond. Ever since his first visit to this world, dozens of bodies ago. They’d attempted to colonize it, but Aeglathar, prey that they were, weak as they had been, had beaten them down at every attempt, finally claiming it for themselves.

Well, after today, no one would have this verdant world. Its green plants, salty air, and cool mornings would be reduced to ash if Toravyn could not have them. And Kato’s people would rule the ashes. He felt a bitter taste in his mouth as he thought of his enemy’s obstinate refusal to die; four races from the seven prime planets lay dead at the hands of Toravyn, and their worlds had been preserved. But Aeglatharan persistence would lead to the destruction of more precious things.

The pilot turned on a flashlight fixed to his shoulders as he fell. The walls were gray and wet, and crawling with yellow moss. They smelled of mold. After a few hundred feet, he had run out of cable to rappel with, and was forced to climb back onto the staircase to continue descending on foot. Several excruciatingly slow minutes later, he reached the bottom. It all seemed in poorer condition than the exterior.

He found four passages, one in each direction, and decided to take the one that led toward the center. He was disappointed to see that it immediately split at a T intersection.

Kato’s computer flashed a small generated map onto his heads-up display, audio continuing to give him updates on the battle. He encountered strange things as he explored; Pits, with ancient bronze spikes at the bottom, which the scholars had bridged with rope, or solid light projectors. A set of stairs that, frustratingly, led to nothing at the bottom of a long walk. He came across a section where an Aeglatharan man had been crushed by a boulder that presumably had fallen from the trapdoor in the ceiling. A cursory inspection revealed no implant around the neck. Unfortunate for the dead man. He had to keep an eye out. If there was a dead one here, there might be live ones elsewhere.

Kato was no closer to answers. He was afraid. For the first time in his long, long life, he did not want his people to succeed. There was something here - Even if the voice was an illusion, something on this world, something about this monument, had managed to damage his essence enough that he was hearing voices no matter the condition of his body. Every night, no matter what, he dreamt of this meaningless monument. Refuse from an age without purpose. And the wind that tormented him with words he could almost understand.

Shuffling feet disturbed him. He peeked around the corner of another intersection and looked up to see the face of a tall, willowy Aeglatharan with blood-red hair. Force flew from his gun, and turned her to liquid before she could shout. He’d made a mistake firing his weapon in an enclosed space like that; The roar from the broken stones had nearly deafened him. Annoying.

He allowed himself to stop for a moment by the small Aeglatharan workstation that she’d been using, and think through the ringing. It had been destroyed by his weapon.

The battle above was not going well for Toravyn; Somehow, the Aeglatharans had taken down a heavy cruiser and managed to destroy one of the disguised bombships, vaporizing it before the nuclear weapon could be detonated. Their pilots would likely be moving to ordinary bombers. Kato shut his eyes and turned off his helmet’s audio feed. He turned his attention inward, lowering his guard. “... Please. I haven’t slept right in ages. I need to find you. You must say something intelligible. Just this once. Where do I look?” Sometimes, if he meditated on it, he felt he could hear the voice even while awake.

And then… The pilot heard something. A shuffling noise in the silent halls behind him. A whisper? No, it was a clicking…

Kato spun to find himself being tackled, landing in the puddle of blood. The wind escaped his lungs, and he was surprised by a small Aeglatharan pinning him down. She was short, for one of their race. Only a head taller than Kato, maybe five feet tall. She was wielding an ancient, primitive weapon in her webbed hands, and her features were round, with large eyes, a soft face, and paler pink skin than was usual. She was screaming at him in their foreign language, as she attempted to drive that blade closer and closer to Kato’s chest.

His weapon was pinned between him and his attacker. He had both hands on the Aeglatharan’s wrist, and she'd pinned the barrel of his rifle where it would blow them both up if he pulled the trigger. He couldn’t understand her because he’d shut off his audio feed and with it his translator. He had no armor, because he had been flying, and he’d spent his shields on surviving a fall. This woman might actually be able to kill him. He smiled, bemused that he might die to a weapon as simple as a knife. The grim reality of losing his only chance to investigate sobered him.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

Perhaps the monument’s destruction would ease the voice. Perhaps it would vanish, and give him peace at last. No whispering wind. No murmuring ocean waves. Only ashes, and their silence.

The knife cut through Kato’s suit and into his skin. He had both wrists on the woman’s- No, the girl’s wrist, but it wasn’t enough to stop her. Aeglatharans had a severe advantage in physical strength. Rather, Toravi had a severe disadvantage. He let out a scream as the blade finally punched through, scraping against his rib.

This would be a painful way to die. No vaporization, or rending gunfire, or explosion. A simple knife to the heart. Like in forgotten times. In times when people had built monoliths not from solid steel, but bricks of stone. In times when even his people had gone to the trouble of carving images on the ceiling and making beautiful things.

I cannot die now. Kato let go with one hand, crying out in pain as she drove the knife in further and cracked his rib. With one free hand, he clicked a button on the side of his helmet. The black visor opened.

She seemed surprised, seeing Kato’s face. It was pale white, with red eyes and black hair. It was smaller than hers; Toravis were a smaller people. But ultimately, it was human too. The minds of children were simple. Perhaps she had been counseled that his people were monsters, and was surprised to see a person’s face. Perhaps she simply was surprised that he had raised the visor.

Whatever the case, she recovered and lifted her knife up to stab into Kato’s face. That moment gave Kato a golden opportunity. He picked up one of the loose rocks, slammed it into her gills to get her off of his rifle, and pulled its trigger. The first shot deafened him and blasted chunks out of the wall, striking him in the face. There was a muffled shout. His second shot released an unpleasant, metallic-tasting red mist.

Several empty moments passed in a ringing darkness. Kato, with difficulty, rose to his feet, before sliding against the wall and taking a seat. He washed his face with his canteen, but had no medical supplies - He’d destroyed whatever first aid kit the Aeglatharan woman might have had. Each eye was blinded by the fragments of rock that he had scattered, and all he could hear was a plangent screech. He would have to go at the rest of this blind.

He felt the stone began to tremble. He could hardly hear its almighty roar, and out of habit, he stretched his eyes wide to try and see it. The bombs are dropping. Their shields have fallen. I’m dead. I didn’t… Find it. He tried to stand again, to keep searching. A pain shot through his groin from the cracked rib, and he felt faint. His eyes, his skin, and his ears were in terrible pain. He considered removing his eyes with the knife so that he could see but found it unpleasant and dismissed the thought. Only a few feet later, he slipped on blood and fell.

A hand wrapped around Kato’s arm. Weak. He reached over and grabbed at the girl’s wrist. There was a little cloth bracelet on it, with what felt like plastic beads. She was alive, for the moment. He must have missed. He clicked on his translator. “Why did they grow you like this? Why aren’t you finished?” he whispered. “... You were conceived, weren’t you? Not vat-born. That woman I killed must have been your parent.” An unfamiliar knot twisted the pilot’s stomach. It was strange to feel… Was that shame? The presence of the emotion itself further chilled his veins. Why should he feel shame for ending an enemy?

He heard through diminished ears the child’s voice. Feminine, shrill, and sobbing. Full of hate, but quiet because of her fading life. He couldn’t make out the words. Kato waited there a while, and he took no steps to end the wounded girl's life more quickly. He gently grabbed the wrist that had grabbed at his and held onto it when she tried to pull away. He found himself suddenly wishing that they hadn’t landed in the puddle of her mother.

She would have been perhaps twelve or fifteen years old. She likely had lived as a smaller child before the Aeglatharans had won Aziru. He wondered what it would be like, to be a newly-made life, and experience moving to a world like this for the first time. Seeing the oceans and the grass and the mist, when all you’d ever known were the clinical white halls of the Aeglatharan genesis ship.

A young soul. Gone. He supposed her soul was no younger than those of most of the adults Aeglathar grew. Lying on his back, growing fainter and fainter, Kato decided it was time to die. His mission, such as it was, had been a failure. He hadn’t even helped with the battle. He closed his eyes and began to let go of his body. He felt only pain, both physical and emotional, the occasional trembling of the stone, and the faint pulse of a heartbeat in the girl’s wrist. The latter faded unceremoniously.

As he felt himself separating, a sudden strong breeze came from the girl’s corpse. Her last breath, erupting like wind. No, that was stupid. His brain must have been addled from blood loss.

“Sh sh sh sh sh shhhhh…”

Wind rushed through the hall. There was nowhere for a draft in a place like this. And Aziru didn't have wind. Something must have collapsed somewhere… Kato let the thought slip away from him.

“Sh sh sh sh sh sh shhhhhhhhh…”

The wind brushed against his exposed face. As it did, the pain faded, just a little. The voice had never come to him outside of a dream before. But today, he recognized it in the sound of this wind. He could hear it, even though he was nearly deaf. Was this the answer to his request? A direction from the voice?

Kato stuffed his shame in a dark place inside of him. He undid the strap on his rifle, leaving it with the corpse. He began to crawl on all fours in the direction of the wind. It led him back the way he’d come from. Past the workstation. Past the crushed boulder. Over an ancient pit trap. And he thought, perhaps, that the stairs the wind brought him to were the ones he had visited earlier, with no opening at the bottom. Still, he continued. The pilot stood to head down the stairs when the walls once more shook violently. Dust fell from the ceiling. Loose chips of stone separated themselves from the walls. And Kato was knocked down the stairs.

By the time Kato slammed into a wall at the bottom, the man had several broken bones and was in no position to climb back up. The wall, as he’d expected, was solid. Still, the wind continued to whisper to him. He thought he could hear words in the wind. Real words, for the first time.

“Enter.”

Another tremor shook the temple. Kato faintly heard the sliding of stone on stone. The wall behind his back slid away, and he fell into an open chamber. With his one good arm, Kato began to drag himself inside. “What are you? Please.”

There was the sound of rushing wind, but no more could he make out a word from them.

“What are you?” Kato crawled further. He was surprised when his arm found warm, running liquid. It had the consistency of water, but as soon as he touched it, his skin began to burn. The pain was awful, but he felt something from it - an apology? A strange sense of reluctance to the injury. And in that injury, a warmth, and company that he had never known. Pain that felt pleasant… Like touching down on Toravyn, and putting on a rebreather so that you could keep the dust out of your lungs. Sweet, because it was home. Bitter, because it was so unlike it had been in his childhood.

The wind continued to rush. In it, he heard the whispers from his dreams. As loud and clear as ever, but still he couldn’t make them out. A pleasant pain… He lowered himself, submerging his face into the burning liquid. As his skin peeled away, and his eyes burned out, the pain diminished. His sight returned, in the dark tones of nightsight that he witnessed only when his living eyes had been destroyed.

He saw his reflection in the water, imposed before a brilliant light. Dark, frazzled hair. Blue dots for eyes. Pale white skin, which had been peeled away by the burning water. Using nightsight, he could see the soul of the water itself, though physical images were faint. It held a brilliant white glow, like the sight of young Aeglatharan souls magnified by a million. He could barely stand to behold it.

The overpowering cold of death began to creep in. He desperately needed to Return. But the thought of answers compelled him, and he resisted the tugging to try and remain here a little while longer. “Please… What are you?”

He was assaulted by a sudden barrage of alien thoughts - Memories that did not belong to him. A vision erupted in the stream. Dozens of cities on a hundred islands, crafted from wood and stone. Ships made of fragile wood connected the cities, sailing on the calm water in a wind that was produced by men at the prow. Aziru had no wind, and these magicians were the ones responsible for creating it.

He hadn’t seen a vision like this in hundreds of years. But what does this have to do with the voice?

He saw the temple erected by a great civilization. There in the center, he recognized it. A great power, wind-like light, sealed inside. An order of Azirulites, tending to the power, growing old and replaced by their children. Worshippers that came from every corner of the world, whether driven by oars or Windkeepers. Windkeepers? He sensed the power swelling as the people gave parts of themselves into it.

A moment passed by. In that moment, he sensed an immensity of history and story that was irrelevant to him. Despite his focus, he regretted that he couldn’t see it.

Radio signals fell on the world, but Aziru had no tools that could receive them.

Voidships visited, few and far between. The Azirulites met and traded with many men from the other planets around the sun. But they lacked the means to follow their peers into the stars. Some few left with foreigners to visit other worlds; Most stayed behind.

A darkness fell over society. Many voidships began to fall from the sky, all at once. Cothite ships, unmistakably. Long ago, they had started this war, with no concept of how quickly it would escalate. Their entire race now lay among the ancient dead, never to return.

The Cothites rained fire and destruction and eliminated the Azirulite race. Not one man, woman, or child was left alive.

The Cothites faded. Many races attacked. The Toravi won Aziru but left it undeveloped. By the time they came to build, the light was nearly gone. Kato gasped as he recognized himself in the vision. One of those voidships, coming with supplies for a colony, held him inside. He felt nostalgia for the days when he was responsible for building things up, rather than bringing them down. That light felt something for him too, he realized.

He’d visited this structure. A bit of that light had entered him. He felt its attraction... The admiration it had felt when it saw his love of flight. It had admired others like him too. He found that despite its affection, the light's composition was contrary to the composition of his soul's light. Its soul opposed the power of his own, eroding him, bit by bit, in his sleep. He felt shocked, to realize that whatever had happened here was contributing to the damage his soul suffered from age. Could this kill him, one day? Were there other Toravi pilots suffering as he was?

In the vision, his people’s colony was destroyed. Far from this world, other races waned. Aeglatharans came. They were destroyed. His people rebuilt. So the cycle continued, with neither side reaching a city of any reasonable size for years, until the Aeglatharans - who had been nearly killed - colonized the planet while creating a disturbance on the other side of the system after all other enemies had been annihilated.

He saw the tower in its near future, destroyed. Its light was gone. But in him, a greater measure of the contrary light which filled the water and burned his skin. The city, in this vision, still stood. Soon, pushing forward in the vision, he witnessed the destruction of Aeglathar. He witnessed his people, victorious. They built towers in the black water, and the wind blew on Aziru for the first time, and he saw Toravyn erecting cities! No more war - They could rebuild at last!

Kato’s smile faded little by little as he searched the vision and its impressions. The image was bereft of children. The new generation that was promised, when the war was ended. The bearers of the future, who would allow the Warrior generation to rest at last. Just towers, manned by the same old souls. In an empty, desolate world that they had destroyed. He gritted his teeth against the sight.

We will rule. I will conquer. Nothing else will come in… In our way. Kato had questions to ask, but he could not muster the strength to speak them. If he could, would there be an answer?

Ashamed, and suddenly without conviction, Kato closed his invisible eyes and turned his thoughts to that girl’s unheard final words.

The temple quavered. Stones fell as the chamber collapsed and crushed the Toravite into the pool. Kato, pilot of Toravyn, felt the light entering his body until it brushed against and burned his soul. He was consumed by that terrible, bittersweet pain, and the agony overcame the cold sensation of death.

At last, Kato passed away.

----------------------------------------

Minutes later, Kato opened his eyes. The chamber around him drained itself of protective gel, while tubes and wires pulled themselves free with mechanical precision. His soul settled into its body; He stepped out of the spawning chamber, and drew his first breath.

He found himself unsteady, despite the vigor of a fresh vessel. He questioned his conviction, that it could be rattled by the short events of not even a day. Though he supposed the root of it had stretched back years and years…

Well, it looked like time had allowed after all. He focused on the ongoing battle and pulled on a helmet, clicking the communicator. “Kato, reporting in. I’m heading to an Interceptor now.”