The sky was still grey with the pale light of early morning when the five figures appeared. They descended slowly, their grey clothes catching the wind, the symbols on their chests gleaming faintly. Four of them flew in formation behind their leader, their arms crossed, their expressions cold.
Wolfen stood apart from the others, his hands in his pockets, his golden eyes fixed on the approaching figures. The survivors were still asleep, huddled together in their makeshift camp. The rest of them were awake except zoey who was still too weak—Eva, Maya, Nora, Sasha, Derek, Leo, Jordan—all watching the sky.
Nora and Sasha sat together, their postures relaxed, but Sasha's aura was radiating warning. Selene leaned against a tree, her eyes locked on the strangers. She looked like a monster—her expression icy, her gaze predatory, her usual cheerfulness completely gone.
The leader flew down and landed in front of Wolfen. His boots touched the ground without sound.
"Who do you represent?" His voice was cold, his accent harsh.
Wolfen smiled. "I represent myself."
The leader's eyes narrowed. "Who represents humanity?"
Wolfen tilted his head. "I don't know what's wrong with your accent."
One of the other figures flew closer, his face twisted with anger. "You will lower your eyes, worm."
A flash of steel. The man's hair fell in a neat line—cut cleanly from his head by Jordan's katana, which was already back in its sheath. Jordan's expression was calm, his eyes fixed on the man.
"I'd be careful if I were you," Wolfen said.
The leader ignored the threat. "Who is the representative of your species?"
Wolfen looked back at the group. Then he pointed at derek.
"Wait—what?" Derek's eyes went wide.
The leader stepped aside, moving toward Derek, but Wolfen moved with him—stepping into his path, blocking his way. His golden eyes were no longer joking.
"He represents humanity more than any of us. But if you have anything to say, say it to me."
The leader's voice was flat. "In one hundred years, our forces will arrive. We will conquer this planet."
Wolfen's eyebrow rose. "Oh, wait." He looked back at his friends. "Guys. Look. Aliens."
Eva stepped forward, pulling Wolfen back. She took his place in front of the leader, her expression calm, her eyes fixed on his.
Then she punched him in the face.
The impact sent him flying backward, his body carving a trench through the rubble before he finally stopped, hundreds of miles away.
Wolfen blinked. "And that," he said, "is why I always do the talking."
The remaining four figures reacted instantly, flying toward the group—but they stopped mid-air, held in place by an invisible force. Sasha's hand was raised, her expression calm. They hovered, unable to move, their faces twisting with frustration.
The leader rose from the rubble, blood dripping from his split lip. He spat, the red staining the grey earth.
Eva grabbed Wolfen.
"Hey—what—"
She threw him.
"WHY ME?" His voice carried across the distance as he flew toward the leader.
"You're the one who punched him," Wolfen said, rolling his eyes.
"Get information on him!" Eva shouted. "See how tough he really is!"
Wolfen landed on the rubble near the leader, stumbling slightly, muttering under his breath. "Mean. My friends are mean."
The leader straightened. His eyes burned with rage.
"Fine, then," he said. "You're the first human filth I'll kill."
Wolfen's arms were covered in Umbralite. He cracked his neck, a lazy grin spreading across his face.
"Let's get this over with."