The metallic dawn of Eclipsera-5 crept through the glass dome, painting fractured reflections across the training bay. Tojo blinked awake, his head still buzzing from yesterday's trial. His limbs ached, not from pain—but from energy overload.
Across the chamber, Ozaru sat cross-legged, tinkering with a hovering orb that kept zapping itself in protest.
"Still trying to make that thing hover straight?" Tojo muttered, rubbing his eyes.
Ozaru smirked. "It's a training drone, not a toaster. I'm tuning its core sync."
Before Tojo could reply, a shadow slid down from the catwalk above—Ken, hands in pockets, boots echoing lazily. His uniform jacket was half-zipped, hair messier than usual.
"You two look alive," he said. "Which means my job here's done."
Tojo frowned. "You're leaving already?"
Ken shrugged. "Rift containment call. Other side of the cluster. Someone's gotta clean cosmic messes before they become news."
Ozaru tilted his head. "So you're just running off again, huh?"
Ken shot a sly grin. "Running? Kid, I'm doing universe-level paperwork. Way worse."
The air shimmered—Alkhaz appeared through a faint orange ripple, eyes glowing with that calm, amber flare that made the entire room fall quiet. Unlike Ken's casual chaos, Alkhaz's presence was structured—composed, like gravity itself had manners around him.
"Paperwork again, Ken?" Alkhaz asked.
Ken laughed. "Better than your lectures about balance."
"Balance keeps stars from imploding."
"Bureaucracy makes them want to."
Tojo almost choked trying not to laugh. For a moment, the CDC's dome felt like a dorm rather than a galactic fortress.
The laughter faded as Ken began strapping on his utility harness. Alkhaz's gaze followed him for a moment, then shifted toward Ozaru.
"You've been quiet lately, Kuruzama."
Ozaru's head snapped up. "You know my full name?"
"Not just yours. Your bloodline." Alkhaz's tone softened—rare for him. "Zarion Kael—your grandfather. The Genesis One of Creation. He built the one of the first lattice that keeps this Corps alive."
Alkhaz's words hit like thunder. Ozaru frowned. "That's not my name. My family's Kuruzama." Alkhaz's gaze softened, almost nostalgic.
"It was, once. The Kuruzama line took your grandmother's name after the Concord Collapse. A wise choice-'Kael' drew too many blades in its day."
Nina blinked. "So... you're saying Ozaru's family changed their identity to survive?" Alkhaz nodded. "The Kael bloodline was hunted long after the war. Power that creates is always feared more than power that destroys."
Silence followed. Ozaru's jaw tightened-half pride, half defiance.
"To hell with the name," he muttered. "I'll make mine mean something new.
The words hung heavy. Nina, who'd just entered with her crimson energy faintly pulsing across her arms, froze mid-step. "Wait… that Zarion Kael? The Architect of Bloom?"
Ozaru clenched his fists. "So what if he was? Doesn't make me him."
Alkhaz nodded slowly. "Good. Because power borrowed from blood fades faster than power earned."
Tojo watched his friend's face twist—half pride, half pressure. For once, Ozaru didn't have a witty comeback. Just silence, heavy as gravity itself.
The silence broke when Alkhaz traced glowing sigils mid-air, scattering patterns of light across the dome. "There's something you should understand before you start your Lock Training."
The sigils formed a rotating ring, each symbol pulsing with its own rhythm. "The universe holds seven Primordial Stones. Three are awake here."
Red light burst first. "Destruction—the Genesis of Annihilation Pulse. Tojo, you wield energy that breaks reality into raw light."
Then gold. "Creation—the Genesis of Origin Bloom. Ozaru, you rebuild what should not exist."
A third, balanced shimmer flowed through them both. "Equilibrium—the Genesis of Celestial Balance. Mine. Between ruin and rebirth, someone must keep the scale from breaking."
He paused, eyes glancing at Nina. Crimson sparks twisted around her fingertips, almost breathing with her pulse.
"And the fourth—Crimson Stone. The Genesis of Crimson Sever. You manipulate plasma born from life-force itself. Dangerous. Beautiful. Unforgiving."
Nina tilted her head with a faint smirk. "So basically, I'm the scary one."
Ken coughed from across the room. "You were already that before the stone."
Nina flicked a tiny orb of molten crimson his way. He dodged with a grin.
Alkhaz let their banter breathe for a second before clapping his hands. The floor panels below shifted, machinery whirring to life. The chamber lights dimmed as a spherical dome rose from the center—gravity inside flickering unpredictably.
"Your training begins here. The Lock Chamber. Your powers are restricted to twenty percent capacity. The rest is pure instinct."
Tojo groaned. "Twenty? You sure you're not trying to kill us?"
"Not intentionally."
Ken zipped his jacket. "While you kids play dodge-the-death-beam, I'll be saving galaxies. Someone has to maintain our reputation."
Tojo smirked. "You have a reputation?"
"Yeah—chaos delivered on time."
Alkhaz shook his head, a quiet smile breaking his calm. Their bond felt ancient—two warriors who'd seen worlds fall, still teasing each other like brothers.
The dome doors hissed open before anyone could speak again. Boots echoed—five figures in CDC armor entered. Nina's squad.
Rika stepped forward first, short-haired and sharp-eyed. "We heard the rookies survived the trial. Not bad."
Tarin cracked his knuckles. "I bet they still can't land a clean kinetic sync."
Lume smiled faintly, her gloves glowing green. "Stop bullying them, Tarin."
While
Kaze adjusted his visor, his mechanical eye flicking toward Tojo. "That one's power signature is unstable. I like unstable" and started giggling.
Reo leaned lazily against the railing. "Don't scare them on the first day, bro."
The air felt alive again—teasing, laughter, rivalry, camaraderie. The kind of chaos that reminded them they were still human underneath all the cosmic power.
Nina smirked. "You'll meet them again after training—if you survive."
Tojo raised an eyebrow. "That supposed to be motivation?"
"Depends. Do you respond better to threats?"
Ozaru stretched, grinning. "He responds better to food."
The chamber erupted in laughter.
As the training session wound down, Alkhaz called Tojo and Ozaru aside. The laughter faded into the hum of energy conduits as they followed him through the corridors. The walls opened into a colossal chamber—the Map Room.
Galaxies floated as holographic spectrums, time streams overlapping like veins of light. Alkhaz pointed toward a small spiral near the edge.
"This is your Earth. Still intact. Protected by the Temporal Cocoon Protocol. To them, you've been gone for seconds."
Ozaru frowned. "Seconds? We've been here weeks."
"Time bends differently under the CDC's field. Humanity isn't ready for cosmic truth."
Tojo stared at the glowing blue sphere, voice low. "Feels weird… like we're ghosts watching a life we can't go back to."
Alkhaz nodded, voice softer than usual. "Then earn the right to return. The next Genesis War won't wait for your nostalgia."
Suddenly, the communication node crackled to life. Ken's voice burst through the static—half shout, half sarcasm.
"—I swear if one more Voidspawn bites me—" BOOM.
The feed cut.
Everyone froze.
Nina blinked. "Was that—an explosion?"
Alkhaz sighed, pinching his temple. "He'll respawn. Eventually."
Tojo frowned. "Respawn?"
Ozaru smirked. "Don't ask."
For a few seconds, silence lingered—then laughter broke it apart again. Maybe that was the only way to survive in a universe that big: to laugh, no matter how close the storm was.
Alkhaz turned back toward them, his gaze steady, gold light burning behind his eyes. "Your training begins now. From this moment, you are no longer wanderers. You are the Genesis Corps. Every breath you take shapes the fate of galaxies. So breathe wisely."
Tojo raised his hand. "Can I breathe loudly?"
Nina groaned. "He's hopeless."
Alkhaz smiled faintly. "Let's hope not."
> Somewhere in the quiet between galaxies, new storms began to stir.
For now, laughter echoed within the CDC dome—brief, fragile, human.
But the universe was already listening.