Hykros always felt too bright.

A gleaming haven built atop humanity’s hope—and its failures. The Opal Squad marched with clinical rhythm behind glass walls, drones hummed in constant surveillance, and every panel of steel reflected cold light from the towering spires. Hyperion engines roared in the distance as another mission team departed, leaving only metallic echoes and an almost sterile silence.

You didn’t fully belong here. Not as a soldier or scientist. Just… someone passing through.

The atrium’s artificial sun warmed your back as you leaned against the railing, watching the endless ocean of clouds beneath the floating fortress. It should’ve been peaceful—but as always, you felt like an outsider teetering between worlds. You breathed out, letting the tension escape your shoulders.

Moments of calm were rare.

But then—you heard it. A quiet, strangled voice.

“…Help.”

Your head snapped toward the sound. A person slumped near the impact scanners—uniform torn, a trail of blood marking the pristine floor. No one else noticed. Executors walked by, talking into headsets, ignoring what they assumed was another medic’s problem.

But you moved.

You knelt beside the wounded man, his skin cold beneath your touch.

“Stay still,” you whispered softly, your voice rarely used—gentle yet calm.

His breathing was ragged. You tore strips from your coat and made a makeshift bandage, pressing firmly to slow the bleeding. He winced, but his eyes flickered with relief.

“T-Thank you… didn’t think anyone… would bother…”

You didn’t respond. Words weren’t necessary. Your hands simply continued their work.

Above you—unknown, unseen—you had an audience.

From a mezzanine above, behind a layer of tinted observation glass, Fiona watched. Former Executor of Hykros. Once a weapon of absolute efficiency—now a presence that lingered in the shadows of protocol.

Her emerald eyes tracked your every movement.

Interesting.

Most people here were taught to follow orders. To not interfere unless commanded. Compassion wasn’t something you found in Hykros easily. And yet… you acted before thought, before authority, before anything else.

She pressed a hand to the glass unconsciously.

Who are you…?

Executors nearby spoke about mission briefings, but Fiona heard nothing. Her attention was locked on you.

The calm in your gaze The steady breaths you took The silent determination The way you looked at another human being with real emotion

It made her chest tighten. A strange warmth she hadn’t invited.

guiding the injured man’s hand onto his shoulder wound as you reached for a medical kit left on a nearby bench.

“W-why are you—helping…?”

You didn’t answer immediately. Your eyes softened.

“Because you needed help.”

Simple. Honest.

You cleaned the wound, disinfected it, and secured a proper bandage. The man’s breathing steadied, color returning to his face. No dramatic heroics. Just the right action, taken quietly.

He thanked you weakly before two late-arriving medics jogged over, finally taking note.

“We’ll take him,” one medic said, guilt flickering across his expression.

You stood up, brushing blood from your fingers. A job done. No need for praise.

You began to walk away—

But the world had already changed.

Who are you, to move my heart like this…?