Under the Weight of the Stars

Reiji Kageyama had always known that he had to be the man of the house.

Since childhood, that truth had been a constant shadow.

Without a father and with a mother weakened since the events of 2015, he had no choice. She could barely take care of herself, let alone work in Astrostone extraction.

His younger sister, Hikari, was his hope. Bright, studious, she dreamed of getting into a good university and pulling the family out of poverty. But education wasn't cheap. Tuition fees were merciless.

The Japanese government's aid barely covered food expenses. Half of the crops and livestock had been wiped out after Kael's arrival, and what little remained in the markets was heavily overpriced.

Every day, he had to choose—medicine for the sick or food for the month.

There was no alternative.

At 18, already marked by hardship and responsibility, Reiji found work at Osaka Mining Company.

Twelve hours a day. Six days a week.

Minimum wage barely kept the household afloat. But he never complained. He just kept moving forward.

Short, with a slouched posture, he went unnoticed. But those who paid attention could see something different.

Dark brown, messy hair, dusted with the mine's filth. Amber eyes, always alert.

A thin scar ran across his left cheek. A memory of worse times.

He never talked about it. In fact, he rarely talked about himself at all.

His uniform—a faded blue sweatshirt, worn-out sneakers, and dark cargo pants—was always stained with dust and sweat.

But it was in his gestures that he revealed himself.

He always scratched his neck when nervous. When he wanted to blend in, he shoved his hands in his pockets, tilted his head, and smiled to himself, as if trying to fool his own unease.

He wasn't the strongest. He wasn't the fastest.

But no one really knew what went on inside him.

His mind never stopped.

Fear. Exhaustion. Determination.

Each swing of the pickaxe tore at his muscles. But he didn't stop.

He thought of his mother. Of Hikari.

And then he swung harder.

The mine was hell.

Astrostone was valuable. Forbidden to civilians due to the danger it posed.

And that made it a coveted prize on the black market.

The St. Anthony Gem, known as the Reliquary, was even worse.

Smugglers infiltrated among the workers, stealing stones. To contain them, the Japanese government sent in the Awakened of Aurora. Humans enhanced with advanced technology, authorized to use lethal force.

It became a silent war.

Mining hours were legally limited to twelve per day to avoid exposure to the virus. But corrupt companies paid trusted miners for illegal overtime.

Bribes. Silence.

Reiji never turned down an opportunity. Even knowing it was wrong.

The shift-change bell rang.

The mine's corridors vibrated with the metallic sound, as if the very structure acknowledged that the workers had survived another day.

Reiji walked among the exhausted miners.

Sweat-stained skin. Tattered uniforms. The scent of metal mixed with dust and fatigue.

— Hey, Reiji! How was the digging today? — A deep voice called out.

Shoma. A brute with calloused hands and scars across his body.

Always ready to mock others.

— Nothing unusual… Some tougher rocks than expected. — Reiji looked away.

— Same old, huh? Careful not to get buried under the Reliquaries!

Shoma laughed, slapping him hard on the back.

Reiji stumbled but forced a smile.

He kept walking.

But before he could leave the corridor—

Someone blocked his way.

Daiki.

Leaning against the wall. Arms crossed.

A smug smile on his lips.

Behind him, his two lackeys. Always lurking.

Reiji never bothered to learn their names. They weren't worth it.

— Well, well… if it isn't the weak little boy. — Daiki tilted his head, grinning. — How was your day playing miner?

Reiji sighed.

He wanted to ignore him.

But Daiki wasn't the type to be ignored.

Before Reiji could take a step, an arm shot out, blocking his way.

— Relax, I'm just curious. — Daiki's voice dripped with sarcasm. — How does someone like you still have this job?

His grin widened.

— Everyone here changed after the 2015 disaster… except you. You're the only one who stayed the same.

Strange, don't you think?

A knot tightened in Reiji's stomach.

He knew his body hadn't changed like the others. But hearing it from Daiki always stung.

— I just do my job. — His voice was tense, but steady.

The lackeys chuckled. Their laughter echoed through the corridor.

But Daiki wasn't done.

— You think you can stay like this? Quiet, humble, waiting for the world to pass you by? — He stepped closer, eyes glinting with cruelty. — The problem with people like you, Reiji, is that you always get trampled. You just haven't realized it yet.

Fear burned in Reiji's chest.

But he didn't show it.

He tried to move, but Daiki stepped in, closing the space.

The air grew heavy.

And then—

A voice cut through the tension.

— That's enough, Daiki.

Silence fell over the corridor.

Daiki looked up. The smugness wavered.

Mr. Chan.

The mine's supervisor.

Not a man to be messed with.

— If you've got this much time to waste taunting others, Daiki, maybe I should suggest the boss put you on another shift.

His voice was cold. Sharp.

Daiki clenched his jaw. But he wasn't stupid.

— Tsk… Let's go. — He muttered, turning away with his lackeys.

Reiji let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

But before he could leave—

— Reiji. Come with me.

He obeyed, following the supervisor down a more secluded corridor.

— You still want extra work, right?

— Yes, sir.

— Good. I need someone for an extra shift tonight. Can you handle it?

He knew it was illegal.

But he needed the money.

— Yes, sir.

— 8 PM. The mine's atrium. No hesitation.

Reiji nodded.

A well-kept secret. Only trusted workers knew.

And he never turned down an opportunity.

Elsewhere in the mine.

Daiki was in a dark corner, whispering.

— The boss gave the green light. It's tonight.

A cruel smile curled on his lips.

— Then we better not mess this up.

Outside Kael, night descended like a suffocating cloak.

The biting wind kicked up dust, clouding the horizon.

Until an explosion lit up the sky.

The signal.

Chaos had begun.