The darkness beyond the lunar horizon was a stark reminder of the isolation that marked Scar’s journey to HawkSight Academy and his search for his missing sister. The infinite abyss mirrored his inner struggle, a constant battle between hope and the unknown.
Scar barely made the shuttle in time. It wasn’t unusual for him to get caught up in impulsive acts of heroism, and today was no different. He had stepped in to help someone without a second thought—an instinctual reaction. Scar couldn’t stand by and watch someone else suffer, even as his burdens weighed on him.
As he took a seat, Scar’s gaze drifted to the documentary on the shuttle’s screen, recounting the life and legacy of King Hawk. The iconic speech that set humanity on its path to the stars played in the background, but Scar only half-listened, his mind preoccupied with his mission.
"The infinite abyss of space becomes a metaphor for humanity's struggle against extinction," King Hawk’s voice echoed, each word laden with conviction. "Space colonization is humanity's only hope for survival, yet riddled with dangers beyond comprehension."
King Hawk, known for more than just his vision, had claimed a gift of Divine Sight, which historians believed allowed him to foresee humanity’s ultimate test. He had prophesied:
"There will be an individual who stands at the forefront of our survival and our destruction. He will bear the Traits of a Supernova."
These words, once considered the ramblings of a long-forgotten seer, now lingered in the hearts of those daring to flee their dying world.
As Shackleton Crater, Luna’s capital, rose into view, Scar looked at its gleaming spires and bustling streets. Despite the city's grandeur, he felt detached. He was one of many cadets heading to the Academy, yet none of them carried his burden. They weren’t searching for a missing sibling or weighed down by a prophecy of hope and destruction.
Scar’s casual clothes, marked by the red and white of his Academy uniform, hinted at his status as a first-year cadet. Despite his laid-back demeanor, a storm brewed inside him. He was here to find his sister, nothing else mattered. The moment he’d sent a challenge to the Academy’s top student, he’d disrupted the natural order. First-years weren’t supposed to challenge the elite, but Scar didn’t have time for ranks.
As he walked the streets of Shackleton Crater, the hum of the city faded. The mission that had driven him here, the burden of prophecy, and the sense of being out of place weighed on him. He hadn’t eaten since yesterday, his usual impulsive act of heroism delaying his plans. Yet a feeling nagged at him, deeper than hunger.
He felt it—someone was following him.
Scar’s instincts sharpened, the same instincts that had kept him alive through countless threats. His Sixth, honed through training and necessity, flared to life. He weaved through the crowd, moving toward a more secluded area. As the streets narrowed and the crowds thinned, he slipped into a shadowy alleyway, tension coiling within him.
The figure trailing him was skilled, keeping their distance, but Scar was ready. When his pursuer drew close, he made his move, pivoting to confront them. The alley was dimly lit, but Scar’s senses cut through the shadows like a blade.
The scuffle was brief. Scar’s instincts took over, subduing his opponent with swift precision. His breath steadied as he locked eyes with his pursuer—a young woman, calm despite the situation. In her gaze, he saw not hostility but curiosity.
“You’re not a threat,” Scar muttered, though his voice held a note of intrigue. “So why are you following me?”
Pinned but unfazed, the woman—Nerae—smirked, a hint of amusement in her voice. “Depends on your definition of ‘threat,’” she replied, flipping her hips to reverse their positions. Now, she held him down, her demeanor cool and confident.
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Scar frowned, trying to discern her intentions. His Sixth still registered her as nonthreatening, leaving him searching for what she wasn’t revealing.
“You followed me for a reason,” he said, his tone firm but calm. “Who are you?”
Nerae let her hair fall around them, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “I can tell you everything you want to know about the Academy. Who the top cadets are, how the hierarchy works, even how to win your first duel.”
Scar’s eyes narrowed. “Why would you help me?”
Her smirk widened. “Still not the right question,” she teased. “But there’s a condition.” She paused, letting the silence stretch. “You have to ask me out first.”
Caught off guard, Scar’s expression flashed with surprise. “What?”
Nerae shrugged. “You heard me. I was here to offer answers, but now you owe me a date.” Her smile was playful, but her eyes stayed sharp, as if she were testing him.
Scar stared at her, uncertain if she was serious. Yet there was something about her—confident, unreadable—that unsettled him. She stepped back, brushing herself off as if nothing had happened.
“There’s a ramen place nearby; you can take me there,” Nerae said, casting him a knowing look. “Trust me, the Academy is a labyrinth, and I know my way through it better than most.”
Before he could respond, she turned and began walking away, leaving him standing with more questions than answers. This was only the beginning.
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Scar walked beside Nerae, his gaze falling to the ring on his finger—a blue jewel shaped like Earth, with its continents delicately outlined. It was a gift from Gaia, who had listened to his story of the “Blue Jewel,” a symbol of his hope for finding his sister.
It was more than a keepsake; the jewel was a link to his memories of Star and the mission that brought him here. As they walked, he traced its contours, grounding himself in the present even as his mind drifted to the past. His heart tightened at the thought of his sister—her smile, her laugh, their life before she was taken.
Nerae noticed the ring and, in response, adjusted one on her own finger—a silver band with a hollow crescent moon. Scar’s curiosity piqued as he caught the similarity.
“The cradle is missing the Blue Jewel, is it because of the hollow crescent moon?” he asked, his tone casual yet focused.
Nerae slowed, holding up her hand so the light caught her ring. “It’s a symbol,” she explained. “Affiliation, if you will. It represents the Children of Hollow Crescent.”
“Children of Hollow Crescent?” he repeated, intrigued.
She nodded, her gaze turning to the stars. “Better known as the Children or Hollow Crest. They’re not exactly fans of how things are run up here.” Her tone held a hint of defiance, but she didn’t elaborate, leaving a seed of intrigue in Scar’s mind.
Though the significance remained unclear, Scar’s instincts pressed him to pay attention to this connection. But his focus was unwavering—his mission was his sister.
As they continued, Nerae shifted the conversation. “You know, your challenge to the top cadet has caused quite the stir. You’re acting pretty cavalier about all the attention.”
Scar shrugged. “Let them watch.” His words were dismissive; his mind was elsewhere.
Nerae studied him, her gaze sharp. “You really don’t get it, do you?” she said, half-amused at his unbothered demeanor.
Most cadets would be panicking, but Scar? It was as if none of it mattered.
He leaned closer. “Do you know anything about the Mad Scientist or a name—Moonshard Starlight?” His tone shifted, intense. This was what he cared about—finding his sister.
For the first time, Nerae’s expression faltered, a brief crack in her composure. Scar noticed the flicker of recognition, the slightest hesitation, even a hint of hostility. But she recovered quickly, her tone casual.
“You’ve made a lot of waves for someone new,” she said, smoothly deflecting. “The Soirée Gala will be interesting, especially since you’ll be my escort.”
Scar’s suspicions deepened. “The gala?”
“All the top cadets and elites will be there,” she replied with a smirk. “Consider it your first real trial.”
Scar didn’t respond immediately. The only pressure he felt was to find his sister, the rest was background noise. Yet, something about the way Nerae looked at him hinted that her game wasn’t simple.
As they neared the ramen shop, his Sixth prickled with a subtle warning, lingering at the edge of his awareness. He couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched.
His gaze scanned the streets, finding nothing, but the weight of it lingered like a shadow.
“Hurry up, I found us a spot,” Nerae called, her voice light. “By the way, how do you like your ramen?”
“Spicy. Hot enough to leave a scar,” he replied, drawing a grin from her.
“Oh, spicy, huh? I like mine mild,” she teased, her eyes twinkling. “Just enough kick, with a perfect soft-boiled egg.”
Their banter continued, but Scar’s thoughts remained fixed on the journey ahead, aware that his quest—and Nerae’s role in it—was only beginning.