Natasha found herself moving through the dim white lighting of the expanse of the UNE mining floors. She felt she wanted to pull her hair out as she searched for Albin.

She had been talking to Amelia, a towering woman whose presence matched her robust frame, but Albin had vanished without a trace, leaving her uneasy and frustrated.

An hour or two passed as she tried to hail him. She had gone to his residence on the 20th floor and knocked, but there was no answer, so she repeated her attempts, which was brushed aside.

“So, Miss Amelia, where did he go after he spoke to you?” Natasha inquired, her voice taut with urgency. “Don't know, but whoever that kid is, if he’s gotten on Albin's bad side, don't be surprised if you find him floating in orbit,” Amelia replied, her brows knit with a mix of concern and grim laughter.

“He wouldn’t do that,” Natasha asserted, though doubt gnawed at her confidently spoken words.

“And you’ve known him for how long?” a sceptical Amelia challenged.

“He’s a suspect, and I haven’t even spoken to him yet,” Natasha defended. “Let me see the picture again.

“Yup, that’s the kid alright.” Wanted a job with me,” Amelia said, peering closer at the slate pad Natasha held up.

“Where is he now?” Natasha pressed, a sense of urgency quickening her pulse.

“Don’t know, but you best get moving,” Amelia replied, urgency creeping into her tone. Wasting no time, Natasha raced back to the station, determination surging through her veins. She dove into the supercomputers, crossing her legs as she immersed herself in the search, fixated not on the boy Travone but on Albin. The hours slipped by, sunset giving way to night as she poured over digital records.

“Officer Natasha!” a voice startled her from behind, pulling her from her reverie and out of the tangled web of data she had immersed herself in. She turned, her blank stare altering to one of focus as she recognized the urgency in the voice.

“Who is it? What do they want?” she snapped, the tension in her shoulders evident.

“It’s someone from the top floors. They want to speak to you.” The implications were heavy. Was it Hector? Had he discovered that Albin was conducting his own mission?

The knot in her stomach tightened; she had been put in charge of the investigation while Albin was off pursuing his own agenda. “Hold on, I’ll be out soon,” she said, reaching for the cords connected to her back, swiftly disconnecting herself before covering up her cybernetic spine, a fleeting moment of vulnerability overshadowed by the situation's urgency.

She walked to the door, pushing it open with a sense of dread swirling within her. “Who is it?” Natasha asked, anxiety creeping into her voice. “Don’t know, but it doesn’t look good,” came the reply from the same female officer who had escorted Albin moments earlier. If only Natasha had asked more questions earlier, but she had been too wrapped up in her own crisis, trying to locate Albin and the suspect he had apprehended. As she traversed the corridor down the stairs, she was led into a well-lit room overflowing with an atmosphere thick with tension. A coffee mug rested to the side, steam still swirling lazily in the air.

Behind a desk sat a young Asian man, his expression clouded with anxiety, while a Gamma-ranked seeker stood beside him, his hands replaced with some form of Centurian metal, the gleaming surface catching the light. Seated on the other side was an older man whose closed eyes belied a world of indifference around him. Natasha paused, taking a breath before bowing in the traditional manner expected from the eastern families, before seating herself across from them.

“My name is Rai,” the young man announced without introducing his intimidating companions. “They told me you know this man.” The large man’s optics glowed momentarily, and an image filled Natasha's vision.

An involuntary twitch threatened to escape as she gazed at the image. “Yes, I do,” she confirmed, maintaining her composure, “He’s my partner.”

“And where is your partner, Miss Natasha?” His voice was calm, but the underlying menace made her heart race. A cold sweat formed on her brow as she felt another twitch; he had not once mentioned her name.

“I don’t know,” Natasha admitted, the truth sliding out darker than she had hoped. “Well, Miss Natasha, your partner arrested my companion, whom I have been sponsoring—” the cement of her anxiety hardened.

“You were sponsoring a suspect? Then you have no jurisdiction,” she interjected, the firm resolves in her voice barely masking her rising panic.

“Yes, but I came to see if he was being held here, and to my knowledge, he has been taken to the planet surface.” Natasha’s eyes widened, fear pulsing through her veins. “Do you know why he would do that?” Rai continued, his tone unyielding.

“No, I don’t,” she answered, a sick feeling creeping into the pits of her stomach.

“Well, for your sake, I hope he is not harmed by this partner of yours,” Rai said, the weight of his words pressing down on her, “because the Tokisane high family will not be pleased.”

“If you will excuse me, I will go to the planet and get him,” he declared, rising with an imperious authority that filled the room.

“Please, go ahead,” Natasha replied, feeling dread and urgency.

Raising his hand as if dismissing her concern, Rai strode from the room, his companions following closely behind. Natasha wasted no time; dread tugged at her as she felt her hair pull taut against her scalp, tension tightening into a headache.

“Officer Monique, come with me,” she ordered, determination flooding her. “Where are you going?” Monique asked, trailing closely behind her. “To the planet’s surface.” Monique halted abruptly, her expression shifting.

“I’m not going back down there!”

“What do you mean?” Natasha inquired, bewildered.

“Yeah, me and a few senior officers went down there with your partner—and Mike almost got killed!” Monique exclaimed, her voice rising in disbelief.

“You mean to tell me that you were down there?” the pilot asked. “Yeah, an hour ago,” she replied, exasperated. Natasha gritted her teeth, feeling the venom of the situation in her veins.

“Fine! I’ll go by myself!” “That’s not what I meant—pick someone else!” Monique shouted back, but Natasha was already set on her course. There was no way she would allow Albin to run wild on this mission; she needed to find him and bring him to justice. Time was slipping away, and the vortex of chaos was waiting—and she would not let it swallow her whole.

If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

—Officer Albin's eyes widened as he stepped into the grand room, its opulence rivalling the most luxurious chambers of corporate towers on the world's surface. The sprawling space was adorned with intricate alien designs that shimmered in the dim light, casting a ghostly glow around the eerie atmosphere. His focus was drawn away from the boy at his feet, who lay completely weakened as he froze in front of a majestic throne where an otherworldly figure sat.

The creature's skin glistened faintly, complementing the dull yellow hue of its glowing eyes. The eyes surveyed Albin with a sharp intensity that belied any stereotype of mindless creatures.

“You man-child,” the alien lord spoke, its voice echoing with an unsettling resonance, “are you in need of help?”

“Yes,” Travone wheezed. The tension hung thick as the alien's gaze shifted to the boy, demanding something profound and inexplicable.

“Do you remember?” it inquired, the weight of the question pressing heavily upon them.

“No,” Travone gasped, despair evident in his tone. Albin observed, disbelief coursing through him as he recognized the alien's potential—the ability to heal, yet not without conditions.

“I will not heal all your pain lest it becomes a crutch,” the alien stated firmly, watching the boy's reaction closely.

Just then, the alien raised a hand adorned with ornate rings, one of which broke apart into a cloud of metallic dust that rushed towards Travone, healing his wounds before Albin's eyes. It seemed like magic, and envy twisted in his gut as he activated his shield and gripped Travone's black blade tightly, ready for confrontation.

The creature regarded him with an appraising glance and then turned to its arsenal of black weapons with determined intent.

“Officer,” the pilot's voice crackled through the comms, “if you’re not back in ten minutes, I will have to leave.

The sun is setting on the planet, and I won’t wait.”

“Give me twenty minutes; if I'm not back by then, I won’t hold it against you,” Natasha responded, her voice resolute as she ventured towards the cave. The remnants of fallen prowlers stood stark in contrast to the darkness surrounding her.

As Natasha delved deeper, haunted by the mine's eerie whispers, she discovered remnants of alien ruins, a secret the officers kept from her during their reports.

Following vibrant lights echoing softly with distant sounds, she dashed headlong into the fray. Meanwhile, Albin wasted no time, rushing forward to intercept the creature, colliding with his shield against its spiny form. The contact surprised him; he had expected a much cleverer defence.

He estimated the creature to be at least in the gamma ranking and noted the absence of a power-class gem. Summoning his strength, he invoked his ability, “Repel,” anticipating the monster would be thrust back.

To his dismay, the alien retaliated with an unexpected ferocity, grappling his shield and twisting the situation to its advantage. Albin slammed his head into the creature’s grotesque nose, sending it staggering, then activated a barrier. He lunged, hoping to force the creature into the wall. The ensuing struggle was fierce as the alien struck down at his shield, Albin's face twisting in shock as he realized how adept the creature was at countering a shield user’s moves. It was a battle of wits and strength, revealing the beast’s intelligence.

Albin employed his barrier sensitivity, perceiving everything around him within the dome of protection as he calculated his next move. The creature's strength was formidable, and as it applied pressure, he felt the painful crack of bone, forced to relinquish Travone’s weapon amidst agony.

The black dagger descended towards him again, a reminder of the stakes at play. Yet he noticed the alien's attacks were growing slower, like a fading shadow. A smile crept across his face as he gauged the weakening resolve of his foe—the alien was exhausting itself. Little did he know how right he was, for the Xyrr’than lord’s power dwindled with every exchange, having relinquished its black class gem to the boy.

Despite its centuries of experience, the alien lord had restrained itself, fearful of unleashing its brethren's madness and rage. Albin summoned another barrier, anticipating an imminent attack, yet the alien lord refrained, waiting patiently as it had come to understand the dialogue of combat.

Years of life had taught it the predictable patterns of shield users, so it remained still, letting tension build in the air.

“Come on, you monster! Attack!” Albin taunted, the thrill of the challenge igniting his competitive spirit. As Natasha arrived, the alien lord stayed silent, unyielding in the standoff, looking to assess the unfolding confrontation that held the fate of all involved in a perilous balance.

Natasha burst into the room, her heart racing as she froze at the scene before her. "Albin! What are you doing? What is that thing?" she cried, panic in her eyes.

Albin turned towards her, but just as he did, he felt the alien lord shift, its elongated frame glimmering threateningly under the dim lighting. Instinctively, he stopped using his shield barrier and activated his Shield Bind skill, but it was too late.

The Xyrr’than lord, intricate designs etched into its skin and glowing yellow eyes, feigned one way before lunging forward with a speed that belied its size, driving a black dagger deep into his gut. The pain radiated through Albin as he felt the cold metal slide further into his body as if the weapon was siphoning his strength. He punched the alien away, feeling the impact register, and watched as the creature staggered back yet remained poised, poised for its next move.

Natasha’s mind raced; she glanced at Travone, crumpled on the ground, groaning in agony, then back at Albin, who appeared lost in his pain. The sight of the Xyrr’than lord filled her with dread, the creature exuding an aura of otherworldly power that suffocated the air around her. Mustering her courage, she knew that fighting this alien was futile; her instinct screamed at her to flee. If she could save Travone, it would be enough. She rushed to him, attempting to lift his limp body, but the weight of his suffering felt too heavy as she struggled to pick him up. The Xyrr’than lord, having dispatched Albin for now, turned to her, unfurling its alien limbs as it approached.

The last thing Natasha remembered was the alien’s hand reaching for her, a searing pain engulfing her throat that sent alarms blaring in her mind as her vision blurred. Darkness swallowed her whole. When she regained consciousness, the alien lord loomed over her and the unconscious boy, eyes like molten gold fixed on her.

“You, female humman, can you understand me?” it asked, an unsettling calmness in its voice.

Natasha's heart thudded in her chest as she bolted upright, adrenaline flooding her system. She instinctively summoned her Astra bow, its form glowing faintly as she manifested it. The alien regarded her with curiosity, its eerie calm seemingly belied by the intensity of its presence.

“Can you understand me now?” it repeated.

A glance to her side revealed Albin writhing on the ground, tears spilling down his cheeks as he grappled with the pain of the dagger still embedded in his gut.

“Don’t listen to him!” Albin shouted through gritted teeth, his voice strained with agony. The alien, unfazed, casually struck the other pair of daggers against its ornate throne, a sharp sound that sent a thrill of fear through Natasha as Albin let out a heart-wrenching cry that felt out of place for a man of his stature.

“Can you hear me?” the Xyrr’than lord prompted again. This time, Natasha’s fear mingled with confusion as she felt a strange bond forming amidst the chaos; she could comprehend the creature’s spoken words.

“Lower your soul weapon, human,” the alien commanded authoritatively. Slowly, she lowered her Astra bow, the weapon dropping from her grasp.

“You…you call it a soul weapon? Why?” Her voice trembled, holding back a rising storm of emotions. “Because it’s the closest thing we have to bridging the gap between body and soul using our advanced technology, but I am not here to discuss philosophy,” the lord replied.

As she gathered her courage, Natasha’s mind flashed with questions, “What do you want, then?” “From you, I want nothing,” it replied before nodding at Travone.

“From him, everything. The boy needs to find the purpose of what he has.” A pang of desperation filled her.

“Will you let us go?” she asked, fearing the worst.

“You two yes, him no.” The alien pointed at Albin, who doubled over in pain. Natasha’s heart sank, her eyes darting around as the alien summoned a portal beneath Travone, lifting him away. As the black blade was also dragged into the rift in space, another portal materialized behind her, leading back to her room.

Without a word, she stepped through, her heart pounding, and instantly felt the difference in gravity; the familiar sensation of safety felt jarring compared to the chaos she had just escaped. She turned back just in time to see the alien removing its rings, dropping them into the portal with the boy.

“Will I find you again?” Natasha asked, uncertainty gnawing at her.

“No,” the alien answered abruptly, and even as it replied, part of her breathed a sigh of relief; she wasn't sure she wanted to encounter that creature again. In her room, Natasha’s emotions churned—a mix of excitement and dread washed over her. Though she didn’t know if this was the outcome she had been searching for, she felt it was undeniably something significant, a shift in her reality that hinted at a more significant purpose unfolding before her.