"Oh, by the way..." She hesitated, then pulled something from behind her. "Your device. It was destroyed. I... found the remains."
She handed over a scorched, half-melted chunk of metal. His phone.
Xavier stared at it for a second and then let out a long, annoyed sigh. "That thing was new. Just bought it yesterday morning after I got out of prison..."
He flicked the ruined device into the dirt.
"Next time I’m getting a phone that doesn’t blow up the moment someone sneezes on it. Indestructible. Maybe one made out of dragon bone or some stupid alloy."
Lyra nodded seriously, like it was a genuine strategy.
And then came Kilop.
The old beast walked with steady steps, dressed in fresh robes, his presence calm, but firm. Beasts along the way made space for him like water parting around a stone.
He stopped before the container and looked up.
"Lord Xavier," he said, his voice respectful but not groveling. "I wanted to thank you. You didn’t just save us... you gave us hope."
Xavier tilted his head. "Hope’s a bit dramatic. I was just trying not to die."
Kilop chuckled. "Even so. We owe you everything. Now... if you and Lady Lyra would follow me, there’s something we must discuss."
Lyra looked at Xavier, waiting for his word.
Xavier finished the last bite of whatever the hell passed for scrambled eggs here, dusted off his hands, and stood.
"Alright, lead the way, old man."
Xavier and Lyra followed behind Kilop, their steps quiet, slipping away from the noise of the crowd and the smell of cooked roots and burning metal. Kilop led them to his chamber, a carved-out space in one of the larger rocks, more like a cave turned into a house.
He asked them to sit.
Xavier didn’t. He leaned back against the wall instead. Lyra stood beside him, hands folded neatly, head slightly bowed. Always ready. Always watching.
Kilop disappeared into the back. Some old cloth curtains swayed behind him. A few moments later, he returned with a box. Simple. Wood, no decoration. Just heavy and important.
Kilop walked up and knelt.
He held it out like a gift meant for someone holy.
Xavier stared at him for a second. Then took the box.
The moment he opened it—he felt it.
The fragment.
It wasn’t just sitting there like a rock. It was alive. Beating. Breathing.
He picked it up.
And something clicked.
A ripple.
[Power fragment is happy that you are awake.]
Xavier blinked. A small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Back at it, huh?"
He tilted his head, feeling the pulse of energy dancing up his arm. It was warm, familiar. But not the same as before.
’You’re different from her,’ he thought to himself.
[Power fragment wishes to meet her sister fragment.]
"Sister, huh..." he muttered under his breath.
’Fine. You’ll meet her soon.’
He closed the box, but kept the fragment in his hand. It didn’t resist.
Kilop turned around and said nothing. Just nodded once and started walking again. Xavier and Lyra followed.
They reached the crater.
It was... grim.
Ash. Blood. Burned fur. Bone. Metal.
A few hundred yards out, beasts were carrying their dead. Wrapping bodies in thick cloth, some carrying them on stretchers, others dragging them by their limbs.
Some were crying. Some weren’t.
Others were gathering the wreckage from Piolet’s ship. Scattered tech—engine cores, pulse rifles, plasma drills—pieces of alien machinery Xavier could identify just by a glance. Dropships with busted wings. Missile shells. Crushed armor that once belonged to mercs who’d never walk again.
Xavier looked around. No words.
Kilop stood beside him. "We are... in your debt."
Xavier didn’t respond. He wasn’t a fan of thanks. Especially when it felt undeserved.
Because deep down, he knew he didn’t save them out of kindness.
He didn’t even plan on helping.
He was just... there.
Xavier doesn’t consider himself as a hero who would risk his life for people, especially for those whom he didn’t even know.
But if Xavier was strong, and he had power and he was confident of winning, then he would surely help them out, expecting to get something in return.
’If we had gotten here late,’ he thought, ’all of them would’ve been dead. And the only thing I’d be doing is picking through bones for answers.’
He glanced down at the fragment.
’If we got here earlier... maybe none of this would’ve happened. Maybe the fragment would’ve been in my hand before the slaughter.’
But maybe not.
Empty thoughts. Wasted regrets. That was just an empty hope and expectations of ifs.
He pocketed the fragment and looked out at the horizon.
The wind was dry. Carried the smell of blood and fire.
Behind him, Lyra didn’t speak. She stood silently, eyes on the field of the dead.
She didn’t cry. She just waited. She was used to seeing blood and war. After all, she was a space pirate.
And Xavier... he kept standing there, watching the aftermath of a war he didn’t start, but ended anyway.
’We were here to get the fragment. If the fragment was somewhere else, the beast land would have vanished with us knowing. We were in the carter to look for the fragment and I just happened to be lucky to have found it at the right time.
But... if the fragment was kept safe with the old man, then we would have taken it and bailed out before Piolet and his army attacked the beast land. I had nothing to do with this war. I wasn’t prepared. But I don’t hate the beasts for it, but if anything were to happen to Lyra, then surely they would have to be blamed.
Is that the right thing to do? I don’t care. I didn’t ask for it. And neither did they. But they were surely responsible for it. After all, if not them, who would be to be blamed? The attackers are dead, but Piolet was paid to do this.
Do I care who was it? Should I take my revenge?’
"Abso-fucking-lutely. Whoever it was, I am going to hunt them down." Xavier turned to Lyra and said, "Let’s go. We have a city to conquer."