The hum of Eclipsera-5's training dome had changed. Yesterday it sang with rhythm also they both learned how to control their aura with hard training under alkhaz but—after 3 day's from incident it trembled like a throat before a scream.
Tojo sat against the reinforced wall, sweat running down his neck as the Lock Dome's gravity fluctuated again. His Destruction energy refused to stabilize; each pulse made the metal around him twitch like liquid.
Ozaru exhaled beside him, surrounded by fragments of half-formed light that kept collapsing back into dust.
"Bro," Tojo muttered, "either the dome's dying or I am."
"Probably both," Ozaru said, forcing a grin that didn't reach his eyes.
Alkhaz's voice echoed from above, steady as ever. "Focus on rhythm, not result. Genesis isn't a weapon; it's a language. Learn its grammar before you scream in it."
Also you've got the god stones so focus on your aura
"I know you are confused about me,my past, this organization but as Ozaru's grandfather have ordered saying let them control those stones because reclaiming them now means you both loose lives so Focus!!! Your grandpa see's potential in you"
Ozaru shooked he kept thinking
"why grandpa's avoiding me, i wanted to meet him after these much of years when i got to know he is still alive but..."
Ozaru snapped out!
Easy for him to say, Tojo thought, watching the mentor-figure float mid-air, golden aura rotating like miniature suns around him.
Outside the dome's translucent walls, the stars flickered oddly—like someone kept dimming the entire sky.
While
Nina landed near them, crimson trails flaring as she caught her breath her genesis galacta aura spreadingdue to too much use. "Training cancelled," she announced, breathless but sharp.
Alkhaz turned. "Why?"
"Ken's signal," she said. "The Council's satellite caught fragments. He's not responding."
Tojo blinked. "He's what?"
"He was on Rift patrol—something destabilized the core. The comm feed showed half a sector collapsing before it cut."
The dome went silent. Even Ozaru's normally cocky stance stiffened.
Alkhaz's expression didn't break, but the air around him shifted—pressure, faint but unmistakable.
"I told him not to go alone," he murmured.
Minutes later, they stood inside the Map Room again. The holographic galaxy rotated slowly, and near its western arm a crimson fracture blinked like an infected wound.
"That," Nina said, pointing, "is Rift-Sector 43. His last coordinates."
Tojo's throat went dry. "That doesn't look small."
"It isn't," Alkhaz replied. "Riftfall. A gravitational bleed between real-space and Null-space. Only high-tier beings can survive near its edge."
Ozaru frowned. "And Ken's… in there?"
"If he's alive, yes."
Nina clenched her fists.
"Then we have to go!" tojo said in serious tone
Alkhaz shook his head slowly. "No. You're still under Lock parameters. Sending you now would be suicide."
"Then un-lock us," Tojo snapped. "What's the point of training if our teacher's dying out there?"
The room flared for a second—Tojo's Genesis pulsing in anger. Alkhaz didn't raise his voice, but the golden halo around him expanded until it swallowed Tojo's flare whole.
[Even if tojo and ozaru weilds god stones they are inexperienced]
"Emotion without control births extinction, Tojo. You'd save no one."
The boy bit his lip. The glow faded.
Ozaru stepped forward, calmer. "Then what can we do?"
Alkhaz hesitated—something rare. "You can prepare for what's coming because of him."
Outside the Map Room, the corridors were chaos. CDC operators ran data strings, alarms buzzed in languages that weren't human. Through a transparent viewport, Eclipsera's defense rings were visible—layers of floating citadels shifting position.
Rika, Tarin, and the others from Nina's squad dashed by, their armor already adapting colors for space deployment.
Tarin called out, "You rookies stay alive, alright? Someone's gotta tell Ken's bad jokes when he's gone."
Rika elbowed him. "He's not gone, idiot. Not yet."
Tojo forced a half-smile, watching them disappear into the hangar glow.
Later, in the observation balcony, Ozaru found Alkhaz standing alone, staring at the stars.
"Tell me straight," Ozaru said. "You think he's dead?"
Alkhaz didn't answer immediately. "Ken's survived worse. But the Rift… it's not a normal tear. It smells engineered."
Ozaru raised an eyebrow. "Engineered? By who?"
"The universe has many architects. Not all build for creation."
Something in his tone made Ozaru uneasy.
"Are you talking about Nexarius?" he asked.
Alkhaz's eyes flicked sideways—amber light narrowing. "That name shouldn't have reached you yet."
Ozaru shrugged. "Mhmm... I used to think this name as Hollywood movies villian, i read that on a poster back on my mansion."
For a moment, Alkhaz almost smiled. "Nexarius is more than a name. He's the echo of what happens when a Genesis user refuses equilibrium. If the Rift is his work…"
He didn't finish.
Ozaru looked out at the stars again, voice low. "Then the war's closer than you're admitting."
Meanwhile, Tojo sat alone in the training hall, punching the air in frustration until crimson sparks flicked from his knuckles.
"I hate waiting," he muttered. "He's out there, bleeding space dust, and we're locked up in four walls."
Nina entered quietly, dropping a ration pack beside him. "You think rage'll fix that?"
"No. But somehow it keeps me warm."
She sat beside him, arms resting on her knees. "Ken's not an easy guy to kill. He's lazy, sure—but not weak. You know how many missions he's walked out of half-dead?"
"Yeah?"
"Too many. He'll call back. Probably with some serious smile."
Tojo sighed. "If he doesn't?"
"Then I'll burn whatever took him," she said simply. The plasma flicker in her eyes didn't look human.
He grinned faintly. "You scare me sometimes."
"That's mutual."
For the first time that night, they both laughed.
Hours later, alarms blared again. The Rift on the holographic map doubled in size. Data readouts flashed red.
Alkhaz appeared in the hall, coat whipping around him. "Everyone—formation level one. The Riftfall's spreading. We're moving to defense posture."
Tojo and Ozaru exchanged a look. The playtime was over.
Through the transparent dome, space itself seemed to ripple—like a curtain tugged by invisible claws. Beyond that shimmer, something vast stirred.
A distorted voice echoed through comms—broken but unmistakable.
"—Alkhaz… tell the kids… it's not just a Rift… it's calling—"
Ken's voice cut out again.
The dome shook. Energy alarms screamed.
Alkhaz stared into the distortion, eyes wide after a long time. "No… it can't be."
Ozaru asked, "What can't?"
"The Rift isn't expanding," Alkhaz said slowly. "It's opening."
And then, through the tear, came light—cold, silver, wrong.
Somewhere between galaxies, the first tremor of war finally reached them.
The Genesis Corps didn't realize it yet—but the universe had just blinked awake...