The Riftfall closed with no sound after a chaos full moments.
One moment, space had folded like origami, whispering in voices that didn't have lungs. The next—there was just a dead wind brushing across cracked violet soil, like it wanted to pretend none of it happened.
But Tojo, Ozaru, Nina, and Ken stood frozen. They knew. Something had happened that shouldn't have. Also Something that wouldn't stay silent for long but because of Alkhaz's order they didn't attacked.
While Alkhaz… just stood still, eyes fixed on the point where the porcelain Harbinger Mask had vanished. His face wasn't worried. It was knowing.
Nobody spoke for a while.
The crimson sands of Eclipsera-5 wheeled quietly. Twin moons hanging over the horizon like tired eyes.
Finally, Nina exhaled shakily. "Ken… did that—mask—just talk to your grandpa?"
Ken didn't look at anyone. "Not just talk," he answered low. "It remembered him."
Before anyone could think, a vibration cut through their comms. A soft blue circle blinked behind Tojo's ear — the CDC signal tech that was patched into their genetics during initial clearance.
Rika's voice crackled in. "Backup has landed. Estimated ten seconds to surface contact."
They all turned.
Far beyond the Riftfall, between the cracks of jagged ground, silver threads began to hum. Not from ships. From the planet itself.
Eclipsera-5 was not just a CDC station. It was a data-rooted world, one of the Genesis Registrar planets, where information soaked into soil. It didn't grow trees. It grew records.
And now—those records were responding.
Six figures approached through the haze. Not in a dramatic drop. No flashy entrance. Just silent, purposeful arrival.
Their suits were different from Ken or Nina's. Sleeker, almost fluid—colored in dark slate and quiet silver. These weren't cadets or patrol members.
These were Investigators — Rank Sigma and above.
The lead figure removed her face visor. Her eyes were pale lavender, scanning everything without expression.
She didn't look at the team.
She looked at where the mask had been.
"You triggered something, didn't you?" she spoke softly. Her name tag displayed: Liora Kael – Level Sigma Investigator.
Ozaru squinted. "Kael?"
Liora didn't turn. "Family relations are irrelevant on Eclipsera."
But Alkhaz smiled faintly. "Never irrelevant. Just inconvenient."
Behind her stood two alien investigators—one tall and quadruple-eyed with cyan markings, another smaller, pale-green skin, floating pad for reading energy imprints. They weren't humans. But they were CDC.
They weren't here to fight.
They were here to listen to what the planet itself recorded.
Ken stepped aside, hands in pockets, distant. Waves of Azure Genesis still shimmered faintly around his wrist, like a heartbeat.
One of the Investigators walked straight past Ken—toward Tojo.
Not a warrior. Not armed.
A reader.
He lowered a device — floating obsidian cube — near Tojo's hand.
And Tojo flinched.
The cube pulsed, and a hollow voice echoed:
> "DESCTRUCTIVE SIGNATURE MARKED. CLASSIFIED. DENIED TRACE FOR NOW."
The alien raised his head. Curious. Studying Tojo's hand too long.
Ozaru stepped forward, almost protective. Crimson and pale-blue flickers around him. His own Genesis rippled, slight but noticeable.
The cube turned to Ozaru.
It scanned again.
> "CREATION IMPRINT STABLE. TEMPORARY MASKED PRESENCE. CLASS SECURITY: UNREGISTERED."
UNKNOWN PRESENCE... BUT THE SIGNATURE CARRIES KAEL ANCESTRY MARCKS TOO.
The alien investigator froze and thought in mind "He? And from Kael clan?" She snapped out.
"Two anomalies in one Riftfall?" he whispered.
The lavender-eyed Liora Kael finally turned away from the battlefield and faced all of them.
"You four…" she said, not loud, not soft. "What did the Riftfall speak to you?"
Even though ken and Nina were captain and vice captains respectively she did scold them
No one answered.
Because no one actually knew.
Alkhaz finally moved, walking forward, casual, hands behind his back like he was strolling through some park, not a breach-marked battlefield.
"Liora," he said calmly. "This wasn't a breach. It wasn't even an attack."
The Investigators looked at him sharply.
Ken didn't turn. His voice came out low. "It was a… message."
"Not to us," Alkhaz corrected.
"To those watching," Nina muttered.
The wind stirred. Nobody knew why, but the chill felt different.
Like the planet heard that.
Ken's Azure Pulse flickered. He closed his fist to suppress it. He hated when his Genesis reacted on its own. It meant information was trying to get in.
Tojo watched him. For the first time, Ken didn't look like that lazy, half-interested, too-smart-too-comfortable guy.
He looked shaken. But not scared.
Recognized.
The Investigators gathered readings. Machines hummed. The broken ground occasionally pulsed, remembering Ken's attack, remembering Valkor's voice.
Remembering Nexarius.
Ozaru finally asked the one thing nobody said loud.
"So... that Nexarius fragment-whatever it was-was actually aware of us?"
Alkhaz looked at him.
"No," he said simply. "It wasn't real."
Tojo frowned. "But—"
"It was present," Alkhaz said.
That landed differently.
Not real.
But remembered.
Ken looked up at the twin moons. His voice was low. "He wasn't inviting a fight."
He almost whispered it.
"He was marking the players."
The lavender-eyed investigator looked sharply. "Where did you hear that?"
Ken paused.
He didn't answer.
Because he hadn't heard it.
He had remembered it.
Liora stepped closer to him—not threatening, just observant. "Ken of Azure," she said carefully. "Flux Drift Genesis users often see data before it happens. But this… seems different."
Ken's eyes were calm now.
"It wasn't data from this side."
Silence.
The taller alien hesitated. "Beyond Eclipsera? Beyond Andromeda?"
Ken shook his head.
"Beyond our instructions of reality."
No one spoke for a few moments.
Even Nina was quiet. Her Crimson Genesis flickered around her sleeve, like small embers unsure whether to burn or listen.
Alkhaz broke the silence, like a teacher switching to next lesson.
"Enough," he said lightly. "They're alive. Riftfall has closed. Now let the archives process what they saw, not what they think they saw."
Liora Kael stepped back. "We report to the Council. Expect interference."
"I'd be disappointed if they didn't," Alkhaz smirked.
She stared a moment longer at Ken, Ozaru, Tojo, and Nina — like scanning their faces, not their signatures.
"Four names," she muttered. "Four vibrations. Existence is beginning to take note."
She turned and walked away.
The others followed.
But before leaving fully — the alien cube stopped, blinking violet, and played one last recorded echo.
Not a voice.
Not a language.
But a whisper in static.
Repeating faintly.
> "…they remember…"
And then it dimmed.
The Investigators vanished behind the ridge.
—
It was quiet again.
Too quiet.
Tojo sat on a broken slab of violet stone, still breathing heavy. "We were supposed to fight some Voidspawn and go home," he muttered.
Ozaru dropped next to him. "Yeah well, now we're apparently getting remembered by things that shouldn't know we exist."
Ken didn't sit.
He looked up at the sky. But it wasn't a sky. It never truly was.
"Ozaru," he said calmly. "When your Creation Genesis pulses… does it ever feel like its reacting to someone, not something?"
Ozaru looked at him, confused.
Ken didn't explain.
Meanwhile, Nina didn't speak at all.
She was staring at Alkhaz.
Not fearfully.
Just with realization.
Because only now—only after the Riftfall—everyone felt it properly.
Alkhaz's presence.
Not loud. Not flashy.
But… familiar.
Ken finally turned.
"Alkhaz," he called.
The mentor turned, neutral.
Ken spoke slower now. "That mask… called you something. Not Commander. Not Captain. Something else."
Tojo stood slowly.
"What's a… Thronebearer?"
Alkhaz looked at him for a long time.
Then he smiled, very gently.
"Something you're not ready to meet," he said.
"Yet."
The wind shifted.
This time, nobody thought it was just wind.
Ken's Azure flickered.
Ozaru's Creation dimmed.
Tojo felt an ache in his core, not fear, not pain—almost like something wanted to wake up.
And deep in the data roots of Eclipsera-5 — something recorded their names.
While away, in a place not on any map, not even on any timeline, a porcelain mask floated in black-white emptiness.
Silent.
Still.
But aware.
And a voice—not spoken, not heard—sighed between realities.
> "Found them."
> "Marked them."
> "Now the game begins."