In a quick flash, Masir was in front of her and wrapped his arms around her in the only display of affection he could. “Iyas’um, ga’sesé! Sesé!” he shouted in Kebulani before he immediately translated. “Mother, you need to run! Run!”

Anais shook her head. “No, you’re not doing this alone. Let me help you.” Masir stared back at her and frowned. She didn’t understand what was at stake and if Masir had to watch after her while fighting Natasan, he wouldn’t be able to fight at his full power. Even knowing this, as Anais grabbed her Acclimator and cocked the rifle, Masir felt a strong sense of pride and attachment to the woman.

Rising to his feet, Masir looked to Anais. “I need to get my sword.” He held out his hand and waited for Anais to take it. The two locked hands and Masir took in a deep breath as he used his telekinesis to lift them both into the air. The unearthed Kebulani ship wasn’t far. If he hurried, he could get his sword and be prepared.

He heard the grinding of metal and turned his head too late. A piece of the carrier’s blades, thinned and rolled into the shape of a spear, cut through the air towards them. Towards Anais. Masir barely thought, twisting his body in the air to shield his iyas’um from the attack. The pain almost didn’t register in his brain until he heard Anais’ gasp. He saw his blood on her white uniform and the makeshift spear protruding from his side.

Masir used all the strength he could to force himself forward before he descended to the ground. He held Anais close to his body, encasing himself and her in a telekinetic barrier. The ground was hard, but Masir had done enough to keep it from causing him further pain. Anais rose up from his chest and looked him over.

“O—Masir, stay with me!” she said, staring at the large piece of metal in his side. Masir rolled over onto his hands and knees, tears falling from his eyes as he squeezed them shut. He held his right arm out, pulling the metal spear with telekinesis, letting out an inaudible cry of anguish as the crude edges sawed through his ribs and organ until finally, the makeshift weapon was free.

Masir laid on the ground, his vision hazy as he lost blood, the wound taking longer than usual to close. He suspected that perhaps it had something to do with it being touched by Natasan as he saw the ghastly figure slowly levitate to the ground. Masir couldn’t tell if it was still his faulty vision but the Corruptor seemed to stagger, holding his head and chest.

“What is this?” he asked, the confusion evident in his voice. Masir blinked and froze. Natasan stumbled around and fell to his knees. A realization clicked in Masir’s head. It was the ship. There was something within the ship that was causing Natasan enough discomfort that he was weakened. The ghastly figure began to wheeze, his limbs quivering.

Anais immediately raised her AC-8R and fired on Natasan, the bullets burrowing into his old flesh. She turned to Masir and nodded her head. He turned his head to the massive sinkhole where the ship was and rose to his feet. Dashing through the grey dirt, he leaped into the air and dove headfirst in the hole. A fiery explosion went off above him and debris followed him downward.

Darkness surrounded him and Masir could hear the hollow tin of the metal cavern of the derelict Kebulani ship. Quickly, he stood in front of the sensor as it scanned him and the door opened with a hiss. A pulsating blue light flicked on and off in the center of the room, catching the corner of the boy’s eye as he looked around for his sword. Cocking his head, Masir walked towards it. The light was a button, some sort of beacon that let out a small, near inaudible hum.

Curious, Masir pressed it and immediately the hum grew louder and shrill, bouncing off of the metal walls. The boy held one hand to his ear and extended the other, searching for his Acclimator sword. To his shock, Masir found his weapon’s hilt protruding out of the wall, buried into the metal of the ship as if the vessel had absorbed it. When he pulled, he heard the blade grind against the metal until it was fully exposed.

The transparent blade was bathed in blue light, now with flicks of gold sparks as Masir held it. The boy let his fascination with the sword pass when he heard an explosion and Anais’ scream. He dashed through the dark corridor and the open door, before leaping into the air and out of the sinkhole. He found his iyas’um on the ground with her armor cracked and stained with blood. Natasan was unwounded yet staggering towards her with his arm bathed in energy the color of the bloodiest night. He seemed to sense Masir and turned.

“What have thee, boy?” he inquired, lowering his hand. Masir said nothing and started towards the Corruptor quickly. Natasan was faster than he thought and dodged, before hitting Masir in the side with his fist. The blow didn’t hurt, it simply angered the boy and he turned on his swing, his sword singing through the stale, dusty air.

There was a slick crunching sound and Masir looked up to see that Natasan had attempted to catch his sword, only for it to slice through his hand. The Corruptor blinked.

“The noise, the blade. You seek to be Yasur reborn,” he muttered, almost incoherently. Masir frowned and drew back his sword, watching as the Corruptor's fingers disintegrated to dust before they fell to the ground. To Masir’s surprise, Natasan gave a hollow laugh. “A worthy Key, now. Worthy of consumption and thy world.”

Masir dropped back into a defensive position, circling Natasan until he stood between him and Anais. “No,” he said. “I’ll kill you now.”

“You will try, as you have done centuries past, boy. I am Natasan, the dark god and Corrupter. I cannot be slain by you or any mortal. I am he who——” Masir heard the sound of a missile sailing through the air and grabbed Anais before jumping away. The explosive fire spread quickly and Masir used his body to protect the woman. Her frightened eyes peered past his shoulder and Masir looked up. His heart pounded in his chest.

It was his yasur, Captain Simeon Grey flying a white Harpy-class fighter. Another missile rained down on Natasan and soon the air was filled with the chirping of them quickly descending on the Corruptor and the roar of the fire and explosion. When Masir saw that the ship was free of weapons, he saw Simeon land it behind them and exit the cockpit. He looked every bit the man Masir had grown up fearing and revering as a king in his pure white armor and cape, his AC-8R held tightly in his arms.

He looked to both Masir and Anais, then gave a curt nod. Tears flowed down Anais’ face and she looked as though she might have jumped to her feet to hug the man before the billow of smoke cleared, revealing Natasan still standing and unscathed. A scarlet light pierced the smoke and Simeon’s AC-8R quickly turned into a shield, blocking the energy blade the Corruptor has created.

Masir fell behind him, remembering the simulations Simeon had put him through before he quickly dashed to the side, ducking under Simeon’s following barrage of gunfire that caused Natasan to raise a hand in defense. Masir swiped at the Corruptor's legs and the husk deftly avoided his blows only for grenades to explode in his face. Under the cover of that smoke, Masir circled the Corruptor again, jabbing with his sword, searching for an opening.

Natasan swung his hand backward, slapping Masir away so hard and fast that the boy lost his grip on his sword. It fell behind the Corruptor and the husk ignored it. He looked at Simeon and summoned his red and black energy to his hand before blasting the armored man away. Masir’s eyes widened as he saw Simeon roll past Anais, his armor charred and smoking. Anais scurried after him and Natasan turned to them both. Before Masir could get to his feet, Natasan raised a hand to him, pushing him into the dirt with telekinetic force.

Anais held Simeon in her arms and then grabbed his AC-8R, raising it defiantly to the ghastly figure that approached her. Masir knew the weapon wouldn’t work for her and with every step, the Corruptor took towards his parents, Masir grew more desperate. He was held down and couldn’t raise even a hand to Natasan as the creature grew closer to them. His eyes searched for his sword on the plain and he saw the black hilt and blue energy. Thinking quickly, Masir attempted to move the blade with his mind, straining hard.

Natasan moved toward Anais, grabbing her by the throat. He lifted her into the air. Masir hyperventilated, his thoughts frantic and racing through his head. His heart pounded in his chest and he felt the warmth of blood on his upper lip as he saw his sword quickly shake and quiver into the air. Quickly shifting his eyes towards Natasan, Masir saw his sword cut through the air.

The Corruptor’s body fell after his arm and head rolled on the ground, towards Masir. Anais dropped to the ground from his grip and looked over to Masir. The boy stood to his feet, his chest still rising and falling quickly before he raised his hand and summoned his sword to him. He stared down at the Corruptor's head and lifted his blade into the air and pierced through it. Only then, did the creature’s body begin to fade into dust, its emaciated and ancient form suddenly resembling that of a man before it became one with the air.

Masir dropped to his knees, suddenly feeling the pain of every blow he had received and the burning sensation of the airship blade that had gone through his side. He coughed and saw blood. He leaned forward about to fall before he felt Anais’ arms catch him. He heard her sobbing and felt her hands stroke his head softly while she rocked him.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” she repeated in a soft, calming tone that reminded him of the days where she would secretly visit him after his training sessions with Simeon, where he would be crying from the pain he had suffered. Masir remembered her feeding him and reading him stories in Canter, as he slowly learned the language. He felt his own tears begin to fall from his eyes and he raised his arms to hug Anais and hold her close.

He heard the sounds of boots crunching pebbles and glanced up to see Simeon approach, limping from the damage he had taken. His helmet was removed and Masir saw a new bloody scar down the side of his face. He looked more human now, weak and injured from the battle, not the hardened and invincible yasur Masir had spent his life in fear of.

Simeon’s eyes passed over them and he sighed softly. “We need to return to the FLOCK facility. The city is on fire and the number of casualties is rising with every sweep. We need to scramble operatives to assist and you, Osin, will help.”

Masir stared. “I will not.”

“What?” Simeon looked angry. “What do you mean? You are the property of FLOCK and you will do as I command.”

Masir stood to his feet and out of Anais’ arms, holding his sword at his side. “I am nobody’s property. I am not your Osin. I am Masir Inajoba.”

Simeon stared at him for a while and Anais between them as it had always been. Masir saw Simeon’s fist tighten into a ball and mentally prepared himself for a fight.

The sky boomed and cracked like the sound of explosive thunder and Masir’s eyes shot upward. A large black and red ship, larger than Masir had ever seen in his life hovered in the sky, casting a shadow over the lake in the distance. Two smaller ships appeared from the larger vessel and quickly flew towards where Masir stood. Simeon had his AC-8R in hand and raised his weapon. The boy looked back at him and Anais as the ships slowed and lowered to the ground.

As the ramp lowered, a dozen figures rushed out silently in black, green and red armor, more elaborate and advanced than the armor Simeon wore. Their capes flapped in the wind and every figure raised their firearms with some dropping to their knees quickly. Lastly, a woman walked down the ramp in pure red armor, a golden cape trailing behind as she came down. Masir’s eyes widened when he saw her.

Her skin was as dark and rich a brown as his was, her hair was braided and cut on the side, bald closer to her ears and fuller closer to her braids. She was tall, elegant and there was a fierceness in her eyes that drew Masir to her. When those same eyes fell on him, he nearly melted. There was a certain recognition in her eyes when she saw him and traced down his body. When she had finished, she immediately dropped her knees, bowing to him.

“Nke téqi Bukhiye,” she said in Kebulani, translated to “This is the Key!” Masir gulped and felt tears well in his eyes as the others lowered their weapons and bowed to him on their hands and knees for what seemed to be an eternity. The woman looked up at him as she rose to her feet and placed a hand on her chest, speaking Kebulani in a voice so beautiful that Masir felt smitten. “My name is Aminare Kanika, an Ahosi, warrior-priestess for one of our three great gods. What is your name, Bukhiye?”

Masir raised his chin and for the first time, felt full confidence as he spoke. “My name is Masir Inajoba, the promised Key, Yasur the Consolidator and Teion the Remembered reborn.” The woman smiled and nodded at him, before looking around at the desolation of Kasira and Anais and Simeon behind Masir. Her face fell into a frown before her eyes shifted back to Masir.

“The Kebulani have searched for the new Key for a century. I've been looking for the last three years. Thanks to the Gods and the beacon, we were able to find you. We need you, lord. Our people suffer and are lost without guidance or hope. You are destined to deliver us,” she said, offering a hand. “Please, come with us.”

Masir stared at her and the soldiers that surrounded her, all bowing to him in recognition of who he was, the person he had forgotten. All of them looked like him, varying shades of his brown skin, though he was the only one with blonde hair and amber eyes, a sign of his status as Bukhiye. Masir felt himself be drawn to them, the people he had lost before he had even recognized he had a people. The hole in his heart that had given him indescribable pain his entire slowly began to close.

“Masir?” Anais called from behind him. Masir turned to the sound of her voice and saw her standing and smiling down at him, her face wet with tears. The boy blinked up at her, trying to search her face for the meaning behind the tears. “Those are your people, love. You should be with them.”

“Anais,” Simeon said.

Anais ignored him. “You belong with them. It’s what you’ve wanted and we robbed you of that. Please, go with them. Be who you were meant to be.”

Masir grabbed her and hugged her tightly, feeling himself grow emotional before he pulled away and regained his composure. Looking up at her, he smiled. “Mother...I will miss you.”

Nodding, Anais said, “I love you.” Masir paused at those words and slowly backed away, his amber eyes looking to Simeon. He scowled, the drop in his face deepening. Without another look back at him, Masir turned and walked to Aminare and the Kebulani. The young woman dipped her head to him and followed him up the ramp into the shuttle, the soldiers closing quickly and tightly around them as they entered.

The interior of the shuttle was emblazoned with Kebulani symbols, half of which Masir recognized. Walking through the ship, Masir rubbed the walls and looked around at the red, black and green flags touched with golden handprints. He felt familiarity. Aminare sat him down and strapped him to the chair after which, he felt the shuttle lifted into the air.

Inside, Masir felt the shuttle land again inside of the mothership and felt the jolt as the larger vessel headed into the atmosphere. The shuttle doors opened and Masir saw the soldiers begin to exit. For a moment, his mind went to Anais and Simeon.

“Aminare…” he said, causing the woman to turn to him. “What will happen to them? The people I left?” The woman’s face looked grave.

“We have orders from the Church. Our colonies have disappeared all over the galaxy and we were told to find out why and those of our people that remained. In cases of natural death of our people, we were instructed to ignore and life continue on those worlds. However, in cases such as yours, where without recorded provocation, our people were annihilated…” she paused, sighed softly and said, “We were told to destroy the entire world.”

Masir’s eyes widened. “But...that means…”

“Yes,” Aminare said. “I’m sorry, the woman seemed to mean a lot to you, my lord. But, you would have your natural mother if not for the actions of her people. This is the justice we must administer. Please understand.”

Masir slowly nodded. He felt as though he understood and part of him wished for the same retribution. He saw the fire raining down on his people and their cries of fear as they huddled around him, shielding them as best they could from fiery blast, entrusting their energy to him as the old woman prayed over him and told him he was the Key. He had cried once at that memory.

Yet now, all he could do now was see Anais comforting him when he had been beaten near to death by Simeon, reading to him, holding him close and then letting him go, leaving him with the words, “I love you.”

In that moment, Masir remembered and he felt himself cry.