From that fateful encounter, both Selena and Elijah unknowingly carved a space in their hearts - a silent promise to see each other again, no matter where their paths would lead. Selena, now in possession of the leather jacket he left behind, treasured it deeply. To her, it was more than just a piece of clothing - it was a clue to finding the mysterious man who had saved her life. But fate hadn't been kind yet. She hadn't had the chance to meet him again, to know his name, or to thank him personally.
As for Elijah, what was supposed to be a mere rest from his recent injury became something far more memorable - and hopeful. The image of the girl with incredible strength, perhaps the strongest he had ever seen, remained vivid in his mind. He still carried the handkerchief she had given him - a keepsake that tethered her to his memory. Maybe, just maybe, it would help him find her again… if fate allowed.
Etherean Force Headquarters
At Elijah's chamber: Sanctum Deck…
"Ouch… Just take it slow, Zach…" Elijah groaned, lying back in bed while his friend Zachary gently massaged his injured arm and prepared to wrap it in fresh bandages. He had just returned to the secluded basement of the Etherean Force Headquarters after ensuring the girl's safety.
"Oh, relax - I'm almost done," Zachary replied with a grin, pampering him like a younger brother.
Elijah's condition had actually worsened after the fight with the two unknown assailants who had chased the girl - whose name he still didn't know. Now shirtless and resting, his broad, chiseled frame was visible, with bandages wrapped tightly around his right arm and secured across his neck. In the light, his appearance was striking: a young man of white complexion, with an angelic face, tempered by a stern expression and unreadable eyes. He stood 6'3 ft tall. His irises, a unique mix of blue and purple, stood out beneath tousled ebony hair that fell across his forehead.
Elijah Johnson, 18 years old, is the team leader of the seven chosen pilots of the Archangel Units under the Etherean Force. He piloted Mikal-1, named after Michael the Archangel. He bore the greatest responsibility among them and held the rank of First Lieutenant. But now, confined to recovery, he was unable to participate in any unforeseen missions - a fact that frustrated him deeply. Their Commander had already begun the search for a temporary replacement.
With effort, Elijah slowly pushed himself up and sat straight in bed. As he adjusted his posture, he felt something bulky in his pocket and pulled it out. It was the pink handkerchief.
"Oh? Since when did you start carrying cute little handkerchiefs like that?" Zachary teased, his tone playful but curious.
Zachary Crawford, 16 years of age, among all the Archangel pilots, was the closest to Elijah. He was the one who had taken down the enemy that nearly killed him. The youngest of the group, Zachary piloted Gabelex-2 - the Archangel Gabriel's unit. In contrast to Elijah's quiet and stoic demeanor, Zachary was warm and gentle, always carrying a smile. He stood nearly as tall as Elijah, with striking blond hair that reached the nape of his neck and clear bluish eyes that enhanced his youthful charm.
"Hmph." Elijah snorted and slipped the handkerchief back into his pocket. "None of your business."
"Oh, come on, Elijah," Zachary pressed, knowing the trouble Elijah had been in the morning. "You saved someone - despite your condition! What happened to the girl? Is she okay now? That handkerchief must be hers. What really happened out there? It's so frustrating that these attacks just keep happening."
Elijah didn't respond right away. He stared ahead in silence, lost in thought - thinking of her. Wondering if she was safe… and remembering everything that had passed between them in that fleeting moment.
Meanwhile, at the hospital...
"Ms. Selena Hayes, you are discharged," the doctor announced with a warm smile. "Take care, and God bless you."
"Thanks, Doc," Selena replied gratefully.
After three days of confinement, Selena was finally released from the hospital. No one had visited her - not even a relative. She had no family left to come for her now. As she stepped outside, she hesitated. Returning to her home at Vespera City, now surrounded by the ruins and chaos caused by last month's Great War, filled her with unease. The memories of that near-death experience still haunted her. Living alone there again would not be easy.
Dressed in a new outfit provided by the hospital, she made up her mind. Home was nearly 400 kilometers away - a long journey by train - but she was determined. She headed to the station, planning to rest during the trip.
Now seated by the window, the soft vibrations of the train soothing her, Selena relaxed for the first time in days. She had brought nothing with her when she fled the city - only a purse with some money, the jacket she now wore for warmth... and the handkerchief?
She searched her pockets, realizing her old dress was left at the hospital, now wearing a new one. Her eyes widened. The handkerchief… it was gone.
"Oh dear… that strange man…" she thought, remembering the incident just days ago - the moment she bumped with him accidentally, spilling his juice on his shirt. She felt a wave of embarrassment recalling how clumsy and shaken she had been. Then her thoughts shifted to the two men who had attacked her - the reason for that entire mess.
"How are those men, by the way?" she whispered to herself. "I hope they never come after me again. I hope I will no longer encounter that kind of incident"
She exhaled deeply, closed her eyes, and leaned her head against the glass. "I'm tired… but the only way to survive is to fight." A frustrated sigh escaped her lips. "I've been through this too many times… Harassed. Chased. Always running from evil men… Attempted kidnapping. Rape… Why me?"
As the cityscape sped by in the reflection of the train window, Selena stared at her own face - sadness evident in her eyes, yet her natural beauty still shone through. Then, a memory surfaced, uninvited but comforting. Her grandmother's voice echoed in her mind:
"You're beautiful. You're a princess. And a fighter - the strongest I've ever raised."
Tears welled up. She blinked rapidly, but the sorrow overcame her. She remembered her beloved grandmother - the only family she had left - who had sacrificed herself during the war to protect Selena from the explosions and falling debris.
What hurt most wasn't just losing her. It was the final secret her grandmother had revealed - something Selena had never been prepared to hear.
As she lay dying, barely breathing, her grandmother had placed a delicate necklace into Selena's trembling hands.
"This… will help you… find your real family. I… I'm sorry, Selena…"
Selena had waited, hoping her grandmother would say more - anything. But her voice faded. Her eyes closed.
"Nooooo!!! Grandmaaaaaa!!!"
Selena had screamed in anguish, her cries echoing through the burning ruins.
Back in the train, Selena gasped softly and wiped her tears before anyone could see. Wearing the necklace, she held it tightly - the only thing left of her grandmother.
"I'll look for my real family," she whispered. "But no one… no one can ever replace Grandma. She was my true family - the one who raised me. The one who loved me."
The Vespera City, the city Selena arrived in - once filled with noise and towering buildings - had become a ghost town. Though under slow recovery, many hadn't survived, and those who did had fled to faraway cities.
Selena entered her house, partially repaired by her own hands after the destruction brought by the war. Rain poured heavily, leaking through the damaged ceiling, sending chills across her skin. She cried - not just from the cold, but from the loneliness, her tears mixing with the rain that ran down her face.
From the recent war that happened last month, she had returned to her hometown only about three times, each visit brief and quiet. Life had pushed her into the role of a wanderer - drifting from city to city in search of part-time jobs, anything that could help her survive. She never stayed in one place for long, especially not in her own city. It no longer felt like home; it was just another stop in her journey.
Now, she realized she could no longer stay here. This house, this broken place - it could no longer be the start of something new. A decision brewed in her heart: she must leave… not just to survive, but to seek the truth.
Her dream? To one day serve the world - not as a fragile girl, but as a fighter.
Selena was already 17. She never went to college, not just due to poverty, but because she lost her grandmother - her only family. Yet her grandmother, a martial artist in her prime, had trained her well. Selena learned to fight, defend herself, and survive… even when the world saw women as weak.
When the rain finally stopped, Selena sat on her rugged chair and removed her wet jacket. For a few seconds, she stared at it, remembering the moment she was saved by the one who owned it. Though it was waterproof but the inside wasn't. It was heavy with rain, so she wrung it out and hung it on another chair to dry.
"Tick…tick…"
A faint sound - like something falling - caught her attention.
Curious, she followed the sound. Something had dropped from the jacket and slipped between the floorboards. She crouched down and carefully retrieved it: a strange little device, barely two inches long, now glowing faintly as it vibrated. It was actually placed at the jacket's inside pocket.
"A device…?" It blinked and lit up the room dimly - impressive, considering the power outage. "What is this, by the way?" Selena whispered, puzzled but amazed.
Then it spoke as it became in contact with her fingers. "Hello… hello… Eli… Eli…" The voice crackled from the device - trying to reach someone: Elijah. Selena didn't know who Elijah was - not yet.
"Oh, hello? Wow, this is great!" For the first time in days, a genuine smile crossed her face. The sadness briefly lifted, replaced by wonder… and hope.
The device was sleek and smooth, shaped like a tiny, elongated pebble. Its surface combined dark metal and transparent glass that softly glowed with a pulsating blue light, like a heartbeat. Despite its size, it felt solid and cool to the touch.
However, it had clearly suffered from the rain. Its glow flickered unevenly, and every now and then it emitted a soft, irregular vibration, as if struggling to maintain function. The water had seeped inside, causing occasional glitches. When Selena wrung the jacket hard, the device was affected, and upon hanging it slipped and fell between two cracks, emitting a faint beep, signaling its fragile state.
Though sensitive and malfunctioning slightly, the device still seemed alive, holding valuable information - and perhaps, a connection to Elijah - the one who saved her, waiting patiently to be unlocked.
"It's a bit broken and already wet," Selena muttered softly, her eyes scanning the device with a mix of curiosity and caution. The small gadget in her hand buzzed weakly, its glow flickering irregularly. Still, she decided to try. The device looked interactive - maybe even intelligent.
"Hello… may I know who owns this device?" she asked politely, speaking clearly. A distorted voice responded.
"Hello… hello…"
"Okay then…" she sighed, not fully understanding.
She tried again. "Who are you? What is your function?"
But the device ignored the question and simply repeated, "Hello…hello…"
Selena gave up trying to reason with it for now. But then, unexpectedly, the device lit up brighter. A shimmering screen - holographic and transparent - emerged from it, casting a faint glow in the dark room.
Her breath caught.
An emblem appeared: a stylized image of the Earth wrapped in metallic rings, with a single feather laid across it - angelic in design, yet commanding in presence.
Selena's eyes widened. That symbol - she had seen it once, briefly, during the chaos of war. It was etched into the chest of a towering battle machine she glimpsed from afar as buildings crumbled and skies turned red. She had thought it was a dream, or perhaps a hallucination from the smoke and panic.
But now it was here. Right in front of her.
The device spoke once more, clearer this time:
"Etherean Force… Etherean Force…"
Selena stood in stunned silence.
That name… she had heard rumors, whispers in the aftermath of destruction. The Etherean Force. Some called them protectors. Others said they vanished with the war.
And now she held a piece of their technology in her hand.
Interest surged in Selena's mind - this was her chance to learn more about the Etherean Force. Her heart pounded with excitement.
"Etherean Force! Tell me about it - about them. Where are they? Where is it located?" she asked eagerly, unable to stop the flurry of questions tumbling out.
But the device, still flickering and unstable, could only manage a fragmented response.
"Etherean Force… Etherean Force…" it repeated, the projection on its screen beginning to distort.
Though it struggled to respond to everything, it caught her final question - "Where is it located?" - and reacted. Suddenly, a translucent map appeared, projected from the device's small frame.
Selena's eyes widened in shock as the layout of an unfamiliar region glowed before her - a map to the Etherean Force's hidden base. Parts of the map were labeled with names she barely recognized, but a few familiar landmarks confirmed its authenticity.
The projection lasted only a few seconds before flickering out. The light faded. The device gave a soft whir, then fell completely silent. It had shut down - likely drained and damaged beyond temporary repair.
"Wait… hello?" Selena called softly, her voice tinged with both awe and frustration. But the device no longer responded.
Even so, it had done something remarkable. It gave her a direction. A purpose.
And though most would have easily forgotten the map's intricate details, Selena stared ahead, her mind already locking the image into memory. She had a photographic memory - a gift that made what happened next possible.
She now had a path. A trace. A spark of hope.
"So, the owner of this jacket has this device? Does it belong to him or someone else?" Selena began to hypothesize.
"Could this device indicate that the owner is a member of the Etherean Force? Maybe - since he was the one who saved me from those men." - Maybe. The thought quickly settled in Selena's mind.
It was a bright, sun-drenched morning, and the golden light bathed the rooftops and cobblestone streets of Vespera City, as if heralding the start of something new. With a worn leather bag slung over her back and a quiet smile tugging at her lips, Selena stepped out of her modest home, heart thrumming with determination. "To the Etherean Force…" she whispered to herself, a spark of purpose glinting in her eyes.
But she wasn't stepping out as the girl the world once knew. Her hair, once long and flowing, had been cut short, uneven at the ends but just enough to pass as a boy's. It was part of her plan - a calculated disguise she had decided last evening. Dressed in a loose gray shirt, the kind she had always favored, and fitted black pants that clung lightly to her frame, she studied her reflection in a passing windowpane. "Selena is ready... but wait," she muttered, pausing mid-thought. "If I'm going to pull this off… I can't be called Selena anymore."
A faint grin touched her face. "Hmm… Voila!" she whispered, amused by her own flair for drama. "Len," she decided aloud. "From now on, I'll be Len." With one final glance over her shoulder at the quiet street she had known all her life, she turned toward the horizon. The path ahead was uncertain, but her resolve had never been clearer.
Etherean Force Headquarters…
The Etherean Force Headquarters lay hidden deep within the rugged expanse of the Crimson Ridge Mountains, far beyond the reaches of bustling cities and war-torn settlements like Selena's. Cloaked in dense forests of towering evergreens and shrouded in thick morning mist, the base was almost invisible to any casual observer or drone surveillance. Birds rarely flew too close, and even the wildlife seemed to steer clear - unwittingly obeying an unseen boundary.
What truly concealed the base, however, was its sophisticated defense mechanism: a transparent, spherical shield known only to high-ranking members of the Etheran Force. Spanning a wide radius around the compound, the shield bent light around it, mirroring the landscape to make the entire headquarters appear as untouched wilderness from a distance. Its surface responded instantly to any foreign presence - scanning for biometric irregularities and energy signatures. Should a civilian or intruder step too close, a shimmer would ripple across the air like heat over pavement, followed by a sudden barrier of solid light. Alerts would silently sweep through the network, and within seconds, elite units would be dispatched.
Inside, the view was stunningly open - clear skies above, stars at night, the moonlight unobstructed. But the shield was always present, humming faintly with layered enchantments and tech beyond comprehension. It not only protected the Etherean Force from physical threats but cloaked its presence entirely from the outside world. The very air within felt different - charged, yet calm. Safe. Only those with clearance encoded into the shield's matrix could pass through unharmed, leaving the rest of the world believing that nothing had ever been built in the Crimson Ridge Mountains at all.
Elijah sat on the narrow railing of the Etherean Force base's rooftop observatory - the highest point of the massive fortress. Elijah wore the standard deep blue uniform of the Etherean Force - sharp-cut and reinforced for both formality and field function. His chest bore the unit's insignia: a stylized Earth encircled by metallic rings, with a single white feather laid across it. Silver trim lined his cuffs and shoulders, and the twin bars on his epaulettes marked his rank as First Lieutenant. Black leather boots and a matte utility belt completed the look - clean, efficient, and unmistakably military. In addition, there is a gravity-dampening system in his boots and the subtle propulsion unit wired into his back.
His mind, however, was anything but calm. Memories blurred in his aching head - a past he couldn't fully grasp, the enemy who left him broken and barely breathing, and the girl whose eyes haunted him since the chase in the lower city.
He exhaled slowly, the weight of everything settling into the silence of the high place he had chosen for solitude - where the sky stretched endlessly, yet his thoughts felt even wider.
His serious reflection was suddenly broken.
"Haah… haah… Elijah…"
A familiar voice cut through the quiet.
Elijah turned to see Zachary behind him.
"Zach…" he said, already sensing his purpose.
"Elijah, why didn't you join the meeting with the "Ascendants" at the Celestial Hall?" Zachary asked, concerned but composed as he approached. "Commander Holt has been trying to reach you - four times in a row."
"Why does he need me there?" Elijah asked, his tone edged with quiet indignation.
"Oh… well, the Archangel pilots were present too," Zachary explained gently, trying to ease his tension.
Elijah looked at him sharply.
"So… who's supposed to take my place? Or… eventually my successor?" he asked, voice heavy with seriousness.
"Elijah, don't be so hasty with your thoughts," Zachary said gently, still trying to ease his friend's mind. "You're the toughest and smartest person I know. Everything's going to be alright. We'll fight - together - with the rest of the team."
"According to Commander Holt's plan, assessments for the Ascendants will begin a few hours from now," Zachary reported, his tone calm but firm. "They've been ordered to proceed to the Eclipse Chamber, where they'll be evaluated by the Bench."
He narrowed his gaze. "Let them try. Mikal-1 was forged for me."
The rest of the elite pilots were already heading to the Threshold Vault - a high-security, private waiting zone located just outside the Eclipse Chamber, reserved only for elite Archangel pilots, Command officers, or candidates undergoing final assessments. It is a dimly lit, steel-grey corridor that opens into a circular chamber with sleek black seating around a holo-core table projecting current assessment feeds.
A few minutes later, Elijah and Zachary arrived - gliding effortlessly through the corridor, their gravity-dampening systems allowing them to move swiftly and hover just above the ground.
Hawkins narrowed his eyes, but a faint smirk betrayed his curiosity. "Still keeping secrets, Johnson?"
Elijah didn't break stride. "Nothing worth asking about, Lieutenant Hawkins," he replied coolly.
David Hawkins, 18, who is a bit taller than Elijah, has a striking figure among the Archangel elite, known for his deep green eyes that seem to dissect everything they see, and his long, bluish hair tied neatly down his back - a contrast to his composed, almost severe demeanor. Calm and observant, David rarely speaks unless necessary, but when he does, his words cut straight to the truth - sharp, skeptical, and unflinchingly honest. Beneath his disciplined silence lies a deeply analytical mind that often challenges orders when logic falters. As the pilot of Raphmed-3, the Archangel Raphael's unit, David specializes in defensive tactics, countermeasures, and battlefield analysis, often acting as the team's tactical conscience. His precision in combat mirrors his personality: focused, unwavering, and bound by an unshakable code of discipline.
"So, who's replacing you, bro?" another member asked Elijah, his tone a little too casual - borderline disrespectful. Before he could say more, Zachary swiftly clamped a hand over his mouth.
"Watch it, Cyrus," Zachary warned, eyes narrowed.
Elijah said nothing. He simply stood there, unfazed, as if the remark hadn't reached him - or wasn't worth acknowledging.