2 YEARS LATER
The year for recruiting new members for the xenocides have arrived.
elias was getting ready to leave in order to join the xenocides . Just before the day ofThe Trial, Kael led him to the edge of a scorched cliff overlooking the city .
"You've learned how to kill men," Kael whispered, handing Elias a heavy, customized blade forged from salvaged alien alloy. "But men are easy. They bleed red, and they fear death. The things down there don't feel. They only consume,"
"I'm ready," Elias said. His voice was deeper now, steady and cold. He wore the matte-black tactical gear of the assassins, but he had painted a white tally mark on his shoulder for every scout he had taken down in secret.
"The Xenocides don't take recruits," Kael reminded him. "They take survivors. Elias… you're a good kid. I wish I had been like you.
Then kael left.
Elias didn't wait for a goodbye. He dropped from the ledge into the shadows below.
That night, the valley echoed with the screeching of dying invaders. Elias moved like a ghost, using the assassn techniques his been taught, he moved fast in order to make it to location of the trial before sun rise.
As the sun began to rise over the smoking ruins of the alien camp, a heavy armored transport—the Xenocide Vulture—descended from the clouds. Its hull was scarred by plasma fire and decorated with the graffiti,A ramp lowered. A woman in heavy power-armor stepped out, her visor retracting to reveal a face covered in chemical burns. She looked at the trail of alien carcasses Elias had left in his wake, then at the fifteen-year-old boy standing in the middle of the carnage, drenched in violet alien blood.
"You did this?" she asked, her voice like grinding gravel.
"I'm just getting started," Elias replied, his eyes locked on hers.
The woman felt the raw, focused hatred radiating off him—the kind of hate you can't teach. She stepped aside, gesturing toward the interior of the ship, where rows of seasoned alien-hunters sat cleaning high-tech weaponry.
"Now rookies I hope you are ready cause this ain't child's play once you step into this ship there's no turning back I hope you're all ready", Elias was the first to walk into the ship them the rest of the candidate followed.
The first part of the Trail was physical part
Elias passed it with ease even destroying all of the equipment.
After a few hours they were told to rest for the final part of the test .
"Hmm the candidate this year are quite impressive don't you think" said cyro
A 2nd division captain"yes I agree especially the one who's name his Elias "
L
iora replied. "I just hope the final test would be more entertaining."
It was finally time for the last test to join the xenocides, everyone was on edge
The liora the 2nd division captain stepped forward"listen up rookies they are 50 aliens in this ship , you get a point according to the aliens you kill the stronger the alein the more points you receive ".
"How many rookies do we have this year "
Cyro asked"100" liora replied.
"Hmm I just hope none of them died this is the part we lose the most people "
"Yeah , but it's the only way they can prove themselves "liora replied
The test began inside the ship.
Steel walls stretched endlessly through the vessel, lit by cold white lights. Participants stood ready, hands gripping weapons—energy rifles, plasma blades, reinforced batons. Some activated their abilities quietly, enhancing their bodies or strengthening their weapons. This was supposed to be a controlled trial.
Then the ship shook.
Alarms screamed as red lights replaced white. Before commands could be given, the doors ahead burst open, and aliens stormed inside.
The corridor erupted.
Weapons fired instantly. Energy rounds slammed into alien armor, blades clashed against hardened claws, and shockwaves rattled the ship. The first few aliens fell, but the rest pushed forward relentlessly. Fighters were skilled, trained—but the enemies were stronger than expected.
Weapons were knocked from hands.
Armor cracked.
One by one, participants went down—wounded, exhausted, unable to fight.
Then the pressure changed.
A tall figure stepped through the smoke.
An A-Rank alien.
It carried no weapon, yet power radiated from it. Glowing markings ran across its body as it moved with terrifying calm. When it attacked, it was unstoppable—snapping weapon barrels, breaking defenses, countering abilities with brutal precision.
Nothing slowed it.
The alien stopped in front of a boy who had dropped his rifle.
The boy reached for it.
Too slow.
The alien raised its arm.
"MOVE!"
Elias charged.
He slammed his shoulder into the alien, knocking its strike aside. The force sent Elias skidding across the floor, pain tearing through his body. The alien turned, eyes locking onto him with interest.
It attacked.
Elias barely rolled out of the way as the floor cracked where he had stood. He grabbed a fallen plasma blade and forced himself up. His hands shook as he raised it—he could feel the difference in power immediately.
He was outmatched.
Then something inside him responded.
The moment the alien moved again, Elias saw it clearly—the timing, the angle, the intention. His body adjusted on instinct, muscles reacting faster than thought.
Every exchange sharpened him. His grip steadied. His footwork improved. Each attack he survived rewrote his movements, making them cleaner, faster, more efficient.
The alien struck harder, sensing the change.
Elias met it.
Blade against claw. Step by step, he adapted—turning strength into technique, fear into focus. The alien overextended, and Elias reacted instantly, twisting inside the opening and driving the blade forward.
The A-Rank alien staggered.
Then fell.
Silence filled the corridor.
Elias stood there, breathing hard, the weapon humming in his hand. Around him, injured participants stared in disbelief. No one spoke.
Elias looked down at the fallen a
lien,And said
I'll wipe every last one of you from this world.