The rain still fell as Frank emerged from the crater, his green cloak soaked and darkened, the shimmer of his barrier fading back to its usual glow. In his arms, wrapped gently in reinforced synth-cloth, was a boy—small, tan-skinned, blonde-haired, and unconscious. Not a scratch on him. No mark from the Void energy that would've melted any other lifeform down to bone.
Silence met him.
Three soldiers stood waiting—each hardened, each seasoned, each staring.
"You weren't joking," murmured Major Elric, his voice raspy with disbelief. His armor bore the scars of three campaigns, and the insignia on his shoulder had faded nearly to black. "You actually found a human in that hellpit."
Frank set the boy down carefully on the cleanest slab of rock he could find. "I found him inside a strange crystal. It cracked open when I touched the pattern on it. All that's left is this." A fragment of the crystal shimmered in his hand. The flower-like mark on the boy's chest began to glow—then, just as suddenly, the crystal vanished and the glow dimmed.
"Wow," Major Mira breathed, stepping forward cautiously. Her eyes flicked between the boy and the soot-streaked sky. "And… he's not corrupted by the Void?"
Frank shook his head. "His vitals are stable. The crystal protected him until the last moment. But more than that—look at this." He tapped the air, activating his scanner. A green lens swept over the boy, and a readout appeared. "His vitals are high for a kid. And he's not even awakened."
Silence again. Heavier this time.
"Frank," Elric said slowly, glancing at the others, "do you know what'll happen if we report this?"
"They'll ship him off to a blacksite, dissect him, run Void simulations on whatever's left of his mind." Frank's voice held no emotion. Just certainty.
"So…" Mira started, now gazing at the boy with softened eyes. "What's the plan?"
Frank straightened. "We don't tell Command. Not yet."
A long pause followed. Then Vice-Captain Tarlon, a lower-ranked scout, chuckled under his breath. "You want to hide a Void-immune kid. On a war-torn world. Crawling with Void-born. In a base full of war-hardened veterans? Forgive me, sir, but that's pretty damn stupid."
"I'm not hiding him," Frank replied. "I'm giving him a chance. Besides, we could use some entertainment around here."
Tarlon's smirk faded.
---
Hours passed.
They moved the boy to an underground med-room—abandoned since the last wave. They cleaned him up, ran scans, and watched, wary but intrigued, as he breathed steadily in the sterile silence. No screams. No convulsions. No signs of decay. Even the faint Void traces in the air seemed to draw into his skin—and vanish.
"It's like he feeds on it," Mira whispered during a shift.
"He doesn't," Frank replied from the shadows. "It just can't affect him. His cells absorb Void energy like it's normal energy."
Word spread.
A kid. Untouched by the Void. Found by Frank himself.
Some came to scoff. Some came out of disbelief. Most left quiet, confused, unsettled.
"He's too clean," one muttered.
"Maybe he's not even human," said another.
"What if he's bait?" whispered a third.
Frank didn't argue. He just stayed nearby, watching.
The next day, he found a ration bar placed beside the boy's bed. That evening, a blanket had been draped over him—patched, faded, but warm.
By morning, the boy stirred.
When he opened his eyes—sharp, bright-yellow—they met the gazes of silent soldiers behind reinforced glass.
He didn't cry.
Didn't speak.
Just stared.
Then, slowly, he reached out toward the glass.
---
Later that day, the informal council met: Frank, Captain Elric, Vice-Captain Tarlon, Mira, and three others. The air was tense.
"He's not normal," Elric said. "Void resistance aside, there's something… off."
"He says he only remembers his name," Mira added quietly. "Luke. And he's not hungry. You were right about his cells absorbing Void energy."
Elric turned. "We're already testing his blood. Maybe we can synthesize some kind of Void-resistance drug."
Mira frowned. "What, you want to turn him into a research subject?"
"Stop all experiments," Frank said firmly. "I brought him here to live—not to be a lab rat. If I wanted that, I'd have sent him to Brightengale."
There was a pause. Then Elric leaned back, arms crossed.
"So what do we tell Command?"
Frank met his eyes. "That we found no survivors. Just another dead zone."
"And the boy?"
Frank glanced through the glass where Luke sat, playing silently with a snapped-off bolt. "He stays. For now, we say he's under my care. The rest of the crew can treat him like a mascot. Gods know we could use some joy around here. A symbol—of what we fight for."
"And if the Grand Commander finds out?"
"I'll deal with it when it happens."
---
The days blurred.
Luke rarely spoke, but his presence echoed louder than words. He wandered the med-bay like a ghost in a child's body—never crying, never afraid, always watching.
Soldiers began finding excuses to pass through the sector. Checking relays. Testing filters. Routine checks that always ended near the observation deck.
Some brought gifts. A polished bolt. A torn comic. A broken glow-stick. Useless things, really. But Luke accepted each with silent curiosity, his yellow eyes brightening slightly as he arranged them neatly by his bed.
Mira started a "watch duty" rotation. The scanners worked fine—but no one objected.
"He's like a pet," someone joked, feeding Luke from a ration pack.
But the word stuck.
Then it changed—from "pet" to "kid." From "the anomaly" to "the boy." From "it" to "Luke."
And then came the drawings.
Scrawled in chalk on the walls—soldiers in clunky armor, one with a cape like Frank's. Little Void-borns drawn like squids, all with Xs over their faces. A sun, sometimes.
Luke never explained. He just drew, sat back, and watched soldiers stare in silence.
"I think he remembers more than he says," Mira whispered once.
Frank nodded. "I know."
At first, Frank kept his distance. But that didn't last. One night, Luke offered him a half-chewed ration. Frank didn't take it—but he sat beside him for a long time after.
By the third month, no one questioned Luke's place.
Tarlon taught him hand signs—military first, then crude jokes. Luke learned fast. His eyes gleamed when he flashed one at Mira and made her choke on her drink.
"He's learning," Mira muttered.
"And fast," Elric added. "But he never asks questions. Like a soldier."
"Yes," Frank said, standing behind them. "He's becoming one of us."
Eventually, they moved him from the med-room to Frank's quarters. Still guarded. Still quiet. But warmer.
He started following people. Watching drills, weapon checks, meals—never in the way. One day, during a drill, he pointed out a jammed sensor someone had forgotten to lock.
"Kid's useful," Tarlon said.
Frank didn't reply. He was watching Luke draw again—this time, a stick figure in a green cape beside another figure with a flower-shaped mark.
---
A month passed.
The war raged on. Luke now had permission to roam the base. He spent time with the network unit or visiting the wounded in the med-bay.
Then something changed.
Elric and his squad returned from a fight. Their mood was grim.
"It's my sister," Elric muttered. "She got infected on the way back. We've got her in the med-bay, but… I don't think she'll make it."
"She might. Let's just hope it's not as bad as it seems," Frank said.
But when they arrived, they were met with a shocking sight.
Luke stood over Elric's sister, his hands bleeding—blood dripping into her mouth.
"Get away from her!" Elric roared, shoving Luke aside. He wiped the blood from her lips—then stopped.
Her wounds were clearing.
The Void was vanishing.
"I thought I could help her," Luke said, eyes wet with tears. "You always said my body could handle the Void… I just wanted to help."
"You did good," Frank said gently, pulling Luke into a hug. A green pulse rippled from him, cleaning the blood from Luke's clothes and healing his hands. "Now go to Mira. She has something for you."
Luke ran out of the med-bay, leaving a stunned Elric behind.
After word spread, morale rose. Luke couldn't always heal, but when he could, it saved lives.
Frank laughed more often. Though he denied it.
Luke didn't just survive the Void—his blood could sometimes cleanse it. After saving Elric's sister, he became more expressive. Brighter.
He made others feel hope again.
"Maybe he's what we needed," someone whispered in the mess.
Frank agreed. Silently.
Then Command sent word: Ashgrove Academy would open again in nine years. For the first time, military recommendations would be accepted.
"We could send him," Mira suggested. "Give him something real. Make him more than a mascot."
Elric scoffed. "You want to send him to a royal academy? We don't even know what he is."
"We can prepare him. And he needs friends his age," Mira said, passing the message to Frank.
Frank sent back a simple sign: Proceed.
And so they began.
Nine years passed.
Luke turned fifteen.