The corridor's light swallowed them whole.
When the glare faded, the floor beneath their boots wasn't marble anymore — it was sand.
Black, glass-like sand stretching toward a blood-orange horizon that pulsed like a dying sun.
Tojo squinted. "We… moved?"
Alkhaz's voice came from ahead, calm and sharp. "Welcome to Eclipsera-5. Don't fall — gravity here has mood swings."
A gust hit them sideways; Tojo nearly toppled, and Ozaru caught his arm.
Chunks of rock floated lazily above them like broken satellites. Lightning arced between them with a hiss that smelled of ozone.
"Nice place," Tojo muttered. "Love what you've done with the apocalypse."
Alkhaz chuckled. "It's prettier at sunset. Or when you stop whining."
Nina's boots sank into the sand. "What is this planet?"
"Training ground," Alkhaz said, eyes tracing the flickering clouds. "Used to be a mining world. The CDC turned it into a crucible for captains. If the planet doesn't kill you, you graduate."
Tojo swallowed. "Comforting."
They followed him toward a ridge where metallic ruins jutted out like ribs of a dead titan.
A circle of silver pillars waited ahead, humming with faint blue light.
"Sit," Alkhaz ordered. "Breathe. Let your Genesis settle."
Ozaru frowned. "Feels heavier here."
"It's the planet testing your resonance," Alkhaz replied. "It amplifies who you are. That's why we train here — truth has gravity."
Tojo dropped to one knee. "I feel like my bones have secrets."
"Good," Alkhaz said. "Listen to them."
He crouched beside them and drew a sigil in the dust — a spiral crossed by twin lines.
"This is the balance mark — Creation and Destruction. Together they shape the pulse of reality. You two aren't wielding Stones. You are the resonance those Stones answer to."
Nina blinked. "So… they're not chosen by the Stones — the Stones are chosen by them?"
Alkhaz smirked. "Exactly. You're catching up."
Tojo leaned forward. "Okay, serious question. Where the hell are we really? Like… Jupiter? Saturn? Please tell me my board exams aren't voided."
Alkhaz laughed — genuinely. "Earth boy, this isn't your solar system. You're four million light-years away in the Andromeda cluster."
Ozaru froze. "Wait— what? How are people not freaking out that we're gone?"
"The CDC wrapped your planet in a temporal veil," Alkhaz said. "Time flows differently there. By their clocks, you've been gone maybe ten minutes. Humanity's still arguing over traffic."
Tojo groaned. "Ten minutes for them, ten years of trauma for me. Awesome."
Ken's voice crackled faintly from Alkhaz's wrist-comm. "They're stable?"
"Physically, yes," Alkhaz replied. "Mentally… we'll see."
Tojo squinted. "Hey! We can hear that!"
Alkhaz smiled. "Good. Saves me time."
The silver pillars suddenly pulsed brighter. The ground trembled beneath them.
Alkhaz stood. "Lesson one: control through chaos."
The sigil lit up — and something crawled out of the light.
It was made of shadow and glass, its body constantly tearing and rebuilding. A faint core pulsed in its chest — a heartbeat of starlight trapped in darkness.
Tojo whispered, "What the hell is that?"
"A Voidspawn echo," Alkhaz said. "A reflection of fear. Strike the core, or it becomes you."
The creature roared — soundless yet deafening.
Ozaru summoned a burst of pale energy, a blade of light forming in his grip.
Tojo clenched his fists, red sparks bleeding through his skin.
"Ready?" Ozaru asked.
"No," Tojo said. "Let's go."
They charged.
The beast met them head-on — claws like blades, speed unnatural.
Tojo dodged low and slammed his fist into its chest; a crimson explosion erupted, hurling shards of molten sand in every direction. The creature staggered but didn't fall.
Ozaru followed, slicing across its torso; creation-light sealed the cracks before they could reform wrong. The air itself rippled. The sand turned to glass beneath their feet.
For a heartbeat, Tojo's power flared uncontrollably — Destruction answering too eagerly.
"Tojo, stop!" Nina shouted.
Alkhaz moved faster than sight. His palm glowed gold, drawing a circle in the air.
A sphere of compressed light swallowed the blast, bending reality into silence.
When it cleared, the Voidspawn was gone — reduced to ash that shimmered like falling snow.
Alkhaz's voice cut through the hum.
"Lesson one: power isn't what you command. It's what remembers you."
Tojo collapsed, chest heaving. "You could've warned us!"
"I did," Alkhaz said calmly. "You just weren't listening."
They rested among the ruins, sweat and dust streaking their faces.
Ozaru looked at Tojo. "So… we almost died. Again."
Tojo laughed weakly. "At least this time it was educational."
Nina smirked. "Barely."
Alkhaz stood at the crater's edge, eyes tracing the dim horizon.
"That was the weakest class of Voidspawn," he said. "Next time, we test instinct under pressure."
"Next time?" Tojo groaned.
"Of course. Genesis isn't a weekend workshop."
He turned toward them, the sunset painting his scar gold.
"Rest while you can. Tomorrow, gravity itself will try to break you."
Ozaru raised an eyebrow. "And if it succeeds?"
Alkhaz grinned. "Then you'll finally learn how to stand."
They stared at him — half awe, half disbelief.
Tojo muttered, "I'm starting to think surviving him's harder than fighting monsters."
Nina nodded. "Welcome to training."
The wind swept across Eclipsera, carrying fragments of ash and starlight into the night.
For the first time since awakening their Stones, Tojo felt something heavier than fear — purpose.
Meanwhile, Somewhere in Orbit
Far above Eclipsera-5, inside a CDC observation craft, Ken sat upside down in zero gravity — munching dehydrated noodles that kept floating off his fork.
"Note to self," he muttered, trying to stab one midair. "Don't slurp near the oxygen vents."
A noodle strand vanished into the filtration unit with a faint whoosh.
The ship blinked red.
Ken blinked back. "Oh. That's… probably fine."
He turned to the holographic screen showing Tojo and the others fighting for their lives.
"Y'all got this," he said with mock thumbs-up. "I'm doing critical… orbital support."
The ship shook violently. A noodle packet floated past with the label 'Spicy Galactic Curry'.
Ken sighed. "Yeah. Definitely fine."