THE WAR THAT FOLLOWED ME

The neon rain slicked streets of New Ardent glimmered like broken jewels, reflecting the chaos of a city that had forgotten sleep. Holographic ads flickered above, promising everything from synthetic noodles to neural enhancements, while hover-bikes screamed past in uneven streams. Down here, on the cracked streets between towering spires, life had a rhythm all its own—fast, sharp, and unforgiving.

Kade Reyes crouched under the dim shadow of an old maintenance tower, sleeves rolled up, elbow-deep in the engine of a broken hover-truck. Oil and grease smeared his hands and forearms, but he didn’t care. Work was a distraction. Noise was a distraction. The city’s pulse—its chaos was a comfort.

A sudden hum vibrated through the ground, faint at first, almost imperceptible. Kade froze, wrench in hand, listening.

It grew, deep and insistent, resonating through concrete and bone. His jaw clenched. He’d heard this before.

The sky split.

Not figuratively—literally. A jagged tear tore across the neon-lit clouds above the skyline. Electric blue light lanced through, jagged and alive, and the hum transformed into a pulse, reverberating with an intelligence that made the hairs on the back of Kade’s neck stand on end.

People on the streets stopped. Holograms flickered and died. Hover-bikes spun out of control, crashing into buildings or each other. Somewhere, a dog barked. Somewhere else, someone screamed.

Kade didn’t move immediately. He just watched. The sky bent in impossible angles, and massive shapes began pushing through the rift—smooth, alien, geometric hulks with surfaces that pulsed like they were alive. Dropships followed, cutting through the clouds and landing on the city streets like knives.

“Not again,” he muttered.

He dropped the wrench, letting it clatter onto the wet pavement. His instincts took over.

Kade Reyes had been nineteen when he enlisted to fight the Vaelith, humanity’s nightmare from beyond the stars. The war had ended years ago, a victory signed with treaties and celebrations, but the scars were still buried under his skin. He had survived battles that would make a normal person scream, but even he hadn’t expected this.

A bus exploded three streets over, throwing fire and twisted metal into the night. Civilians screamed, scattered, or froze, paralyzed by disbelief. Kade ducked into an alley, calculating.

The first Vaelith scout landed at the alley’s entrance. Six feet tall, jointed backward like a nightmare insect, its visor flaring crimson as it scanned. Kade’s pulse raced, but his hand found the Phase blade tucked in his boot. Illegal on Earth, a relic from a battlefield he’d hoped never to return to.

The blade extended with a hiss, plates sliding and locking into place, the metal humming as if alive. The scout’s sensors flared, and Kade moved.

The strike was surgical, precise. The alien crumpled, its armor disintegrating into nothing. The hiss of the blade faded into the night.

Breath ragged, Kade didn’t pause. Across New Ardent, explosions tore through the streets, and he ran.

He moved through familiar territory—the lower districts, where neon reflected in puddles and walls were plastered with layers of graffiti, some gang symbols, some political messages, some ancient warnings nobody heeded anymore. Civilians fled in every direction, clutching what they could. Smoke from burning hover-bikes rose into the fractured sky.

He ducked under a flickering holo-sign advertising “Aurora Dreams Neural Upgrade – Live the Mind You Want.” It sparkled, then blinked out.

A group of humans huddled in the corner, wide-eyed. A kid, maybe ten, clutched a tablet like a shield.

“You,” the kid said, pointing. “You’re”

Kade cut him a glance, shaking his head. “Move,” he said. His voice was steady, but sharp. “Go. Now.”

The kid hesitated. Kade grabbed his arm, pulling him behind cover just as another dropship descended nearby. Beams of concentrated energy tore through buildings. Concrete and glass exploded outward.

“Why… you?” a woman whispered from the shadows, her voice trembling.

Kade didn’t answer. He had no time. He ran.

By dawn, New Ardent was no longer a city. It was a battlefield. Emergency sirens blared, drones hovered, and the city militia—armed but undertrained tried to organize some kind of defense. They barely managed to scratch the alien armor.

Kade moved like a ghost through the chaos. Each kill, each strike with his Phase blade, was precise. He was alive because he had to be. Not because he wanted to be.

Finally, he found shelter in a derelict metro station where a small group of survivors had gathered. Among them was Mila Okoye, a woman whose sharp mind had kept her alive more than her aim. She looked up and froze, recognition flashing in her eyes.

“Kade?” she asked, incredulous.

He didn’t answer immediately. He studied the faces around her—civilians, other survivors, all terrified. And yet, there was something else in Mila’s gaze, a question he wasn’t ready to answer.

“They’re here for you,” she said quietly.

He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “I know.”

A holographic projection flickered in the station, projected from a drone overhead. Massive, elegant, terrifyingly calm, it filled the entire room with its presence.

“Kade Reyes. You carry what belongs to us. Return it, and this city will be spared further destruction.”

The image shifted, showing a younger version of him, armored and standing on a battlefield littered with alien corpses. In his hands was the glowing Core Relic.

Kade’s stomach dropped.

Years ago, during the Aurelian War, he had stolen this relic, a living consciousness capable of predicting war itself. He had sworn never to use it, never to let it be weaponized, and yet here it was—the Vaelith still wanted it.

Mila placed a hand on his shoulder. “You can’t give it to them,” she said.

“I know,” Kade muttered. His mind raced, feeling the familiar pulse of the relic inside him. It was alive. It whispered possibilities, futures, and probabilities too vast for anyone else to comprehend.

The metro ceiling shuddered. Something massive slammed onto the street above. The Vaelith commander had arrived.

Kade stood, gripping his blade. He looked at Mila. “Then we fight,” he said.

Outside, the, New Ardent burned.

And for the first time in years, Kade Reyes wasn’t running. Write it in a human writing

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5:37 PM

CHAPTER 1: WHEN THE SKY CRACKED

The neon rain made everything in New Ardent look like it was bleeding light. Kade Reyes didn't mind—he'd learned a long time ago that beauty and ugliness were close neighbors in a city like this. Above him, holographic advertisements cycled through their usual lies: miracle noodles, brain upgrades, prettier faces. The hover-bikes screamed past overhead, weaving between buildings like angry hornets.

He was under a maintenance tower, trying to fix a hover-truck's engine. His hands were black with grease, his back ached, and honestly? This was exactly where he wanted to be. Busy. Distracted. Not thinking.

Then the ground started to hum.

It was subtle at first, like someone had turned on a bass note too low to hear properly. Kade stopped mid-turn with his wrench and just... listened. The hum got louder. Deeper. It vibrated through his boots, up through his legs, into his chest.

He knew that sound.

The sky tore open.

Actually tore—like someone had taken a knife to fabric. A jagged rip cut across the clouds, and electric blue light poured through. The hum became a pulse, rhythmic and wrong, like hearing a heartbeat that didn't belong to anything living.

Around him, the city stuttered. Holograms blinked out. Hover-bikes spun out, crashing into walls or each other with the sound of metal screaming. Someone's dog barked frantically. A woman screamed.

Kade just stared up at the sky.

Through the tears, shapes pushed through—massive, smooth, geometric things that seemed to shift when you looked at them directly. They pulsed like they were breathing. Dropships followed, sleek and blade-like, cutting through the clouds and heading straight down.

"Oh, hell," Kade said quietly.

He dropped the wrench. It clattered on the wet pavement, but he was already moving.

He'd been nineteen when he enlisted to fight the Vaelith. Back then, he thought it would be an adventure, maybe—a way out of New Ardent's grinding poverty. What he got instead were three years of nightmares wearing exoskeletons, battles that turned landscapes into graveyards, and a war that supposedly ended with treaties and ticker-tape parades.

Apparently, nobody told the Vaelith.

Three streets over, a bus exploded. The blast wave hit him like a physical thing, hot and violent, and Kade ducked into an alley by pure instinct. His heart hammered. People were running everywhere now, screaming or frozen in shock or clutching their children.

At the mouth of the alley, something landed with a heavy thud.

A Vaelith scout. Six feet of angular nightmare, joints bending the wrong way, armor that seemed to absorb light. Its visor flared crimson as it scanned the alley.

Kade's hand went to his boot.

The Phase blade was illegal on Earth—a souvenir from the war he probably should've thrown into the ocean. But old habits died hard, and paranoia had kept him breathing when optimism got people killed. The blade extended with a soft hiss, segments locking into place, humming faintly.

The scout's sensors locked onto him.

Kade moved.

One strike. Clean. The alien folded in on itself, armor dissolving into ash. The blade hissed as it retracted.

Kade stood there for a second, breathing hard. His hands were shaking. From adrenaline, maybe. Or maybe from the fact that this was all happening again.

He ran.

The lower districts of New Ardent were a maze if you didn't know them, but Kade had grown up here. He knew every alley, every fire escape, every shortcut through buildings that were more holes than walls. Neon reflected in puddles. Graffiti layered the walls—gang tags, political slogans, old warnings nobody read anymore.

An advertisement for "Aurora Dreams Neural Upgrade" flickered above him, promising a better mind. It sparked once, then died.

In a doorway, a group of people huddled together. Families, maybe. A kid with a tablet clutched to his chest stared at Kade with wide eyes.

"You," the kid said, pointing. "You're—"

"Move," Kade said, sharper than he meant to. "Get inside. Now."

The kid hesitated. Kade grabbed his arm and pulled him into cover just as another dropship descended nearby. Energy beams carved through a building across the street. Concrete and glass exploded outward in a shower of debris.

A woman in the doorway whispered, "Why are they here?"

Kade didn't answer. He couldn't. Because the truth was worse than the lie, and right now, lies were kinder.

He kept running.

By the time dawn broke—or what passed for dawn under the smoke and chaos—New Ardent looked like a war zone. Emergency sirens wailed. Drones circled overhead. The city militia was trying to organize, but they were undertrained and outgunned. Kade watched one squad empty an entire magazine into a Vaelith soldier. The rounds just bounced off.

Kade moved through it all like a ghost. Every kill was efficient. Necessary. He didn't think about it too much. Thinking got you killed.

Eventually, he found a derelict metro station where other survivors had gathered. Maybe twenty people, all looking lost. And among them, leaning against a cracked support column with a pistol on her hip, was Mila Okoye.

She looked up. Her eyes widened.

"Kade?"

He stopped. They stared at each other for a long moment.

"Mila," he said finally.

She pushed off the column, disbelief written all over her face. "I thought you were dead."

"I got better."

She didn't laugh. Instead, she studied him—really looked at him—and something shifted in her expression. Understanding, maybe. Or suspicion.

"They're here for you," she said quietly.

Kade felt something cold settle in his chest. "Yeah."

A holographic projection flickered to life in the center of the station, cast by a drone hovering outside. It filled the room—a Vaelith commander, tall and elegant in that terrible alien way. Its voice was calm. Too calm.

"Kade Reyes. You possess what belongs to us. Return it, and this city will be spared."

The image shifted. It showed him—younger, in battle armor, standing on a field of corpses. In his hands, glowing faintly, was the Core Relic.

Kade's stomach dropped.

Three years ago, during the Aurelian War, he'd stolen that relic from a Vaelith facility. It was alive, in a way—a consciousness that could calculate probabilities, predict outcomes, see entire wars before they happened. The Command had wanted to weaponize it. Kade had refused. He'd hidden it instead, sworn never to use it.

Apparently, the Vaelith hadn't forgotten.

Mila put a hand on his shoulder. "You can't give it to them."

"I know."

"They'll destroy the city anyway."

"I know," Kade said again. His jaw tightened. He could feel the relic inside him—not physically, but mentally, like a second heartbeat. It whispered possibilities. Futures. Probabilities are too vast to process.

The ceiling shuddered. Something massive landed on the street above, hard enough to crack the concrete.

Kade stood. He gripped his Phase blade. Looked at Mila.

"Then we fight."

She nodded.

Outside, the New Ardent burned. And for the first time in years, Kade Reyes wasn't running anymore.