Darkness didn't feel empty.
It felt… distant.
Voices
"we've got one—"
"still breathing—"
"who is that—?"
"Is he alive?"
Static.
Movement.
Metal groaning.
Hands pulled him.
Rough.
Uncertain.
"armor's wrecked—"
"no ID signal—"
"is he even one of ours?"
Akane didn't move.
Didn't respond.
But somewhere—
Deep inside—
Something was still awake.
The dropship lifted.
Barely.
Shaking under pressure.
"we need to leave—NOW—"
"those things are still climbing—"
Gunfire echoed outside.
Metal scraping.
Something hit the hull.
Hard.
"…GO—GO—GO—"
The ship surged upward.
Breaking away.
Below—
Darkness swallowed the facility again.
Inside the ship—
Akane lay still.
Strapped down.
Surrounded.
"check his tag."
"there is none."
"what?"
"no signal. No record."
Silence.
"then who the hell is he."
A soldier leaned closer.
Examining the damaged armor.
"…this isn't standard issue."
"…old model!" another said.
"first generation?! "
"those were phased out years ago."
A pause.
"how long was he down there?"
No one answered.
Lights flicker.
For a second—
Akane's fingers twitched.
One of the soldiers noticed.
"hey—he moved—"
Akane's eyes opened.
Slow.
Cold.
The entire squad froze.
"easy—easy—don't move—"
Akane stared at them.
No recognition.
No confusion.
Just—
Observation.
"Status," he said.
The soldiers exchanged glances.
"who are you?"
Silence.
Akane didn't answer.
At aurius space station.
The ship docked hard.
Not clean.
Not stable.
Alarms blaring.
People running.
"get him to medical—"
"NOW—"
They moved him out.
His vision darkness.
Through corridors.
Different.
Changed.
Akane watched.
Quietly.
The station felt—
Wrong.
Walls reinforced.
Sections sealed.
Emergency lights permanent.
More soldiers.
Heavier gear.
Less talking.
More tension.
"this isn't the same…" he said to himself.
One of the medics paused-
and looked at him.
Inside medical—
Scans activated.
Machines humming.
"vitals stabilizing—"
"how is he even alive…"
A senior officer stepped in.
Looked at Akane.
Long.
"where were you recovered from?"
"In nexarion death zone" a soldier replied.
"death zone."
The officer's expression shifted.
"that sector was lost…"
Silence.
" four years ago."
Everything stopped.
"what?" one soldier said.
"Sector 7 was sealed after total failure," the officer continued.
"no survivors."
A slow realization spread.
They all looked at Akane.
"...that's impossible…"
Three Years.
Akane didn't react.
At first.
Then—
"…three… years?"
His voice was quiet.
Flat.
But something—
Shifted.
Fragments.
Darkness.
Silence.
Movement.
Blood.
Speed.
Gone.
"Incorrect," he said.
"time discrepancy."
"you've been missing for three years," the officer said firmly.
Silence.
Akane looked down at his hands.
Slowly.
"…no."
But nothing came back.
Only—
Instinct.
A screen activated nearby.
Live feed.
Nexarion.
But not the same.
Fires in distant sectors.
Explosions.
Containment lines.
Ships constantly moving.
Orbital rings destroyed.
Sections gone.
Completely gone.
"…what happened," Akane asked.
No one answered immediately.
Then—
"…we lost control," the officer said.
"…bit by bit."
"…the infection spread faster than we could contain."
"it adapted."
"we adapted."
A pause.
"…barely."
"…Nexarion is holding," the officer continued.
"It held strongly"
"Three districts remain"
Akane watched the screen.
Everything—
Different.
Broken.
"…this is home," he said quietly.
"…was," Assault's voice came from the doorway.
Akane turned.
Aira stood beside him.
Heavy behind them.
They looked older.
Sharper.
More tired.
"…you took your time," Assault said.
Trying to sound the same.
Failing.
Aira stepped forward.
Stopped in front of him.
"…four years, Akane."
Silence.
"…we thought you were gone."
He looked at her.
"…I was here."
She nodded slightly.
"…we now know."
The room fell quiet.
Three years lost.
No memory.
No answers.
Only—
Change.
Outside—
Nexarion struggled to survive.
Inside—
Something had returned.
Not the same.
Stronger.
Colder.
Akane stood.
Slow.
Steady.
"…Status updated."
They all looked at him.
...
for him—
Nothing had ended.
But for everyone else—
Everything had changed.