THE SEPTASPHERE

A planet hidden in the shadow of dead stars. Jagged, metallic, unwelcoming.

This was where the alien army had retreated. Scarred, defeated, humiliated.

Inside the core chamber of their war station, dozens of them knelt, heads lowered, unable to speak—yet fully understanding the wrath about to descend.

The chamber pulsed with unnatural silence.

And then—

A voice thundered from the upper levels, cold and sharp, but unmistakably… human.

"You return. Empty-handed."

The voice echoed across the steel walls like venom through veins.

The alien soldiers shifted nervously but said nothing. Their tongues could not form the words he spoke. But they understood every syllable.

Because their commander—their master—spoke in the language of the stolen.

"I sent you to Earth to retrieve something simple. Something mine. Something long lost."

He descended from the shadows above, each step making the floor quake.

"And now you come crawling back… telling me the power I searched centuries for—the energy stolen from the stars themselves—now belongs to a human?"

The soldiers flinched.

He continued, his voice boiling with rage.

"The Septasphere was not meant to fall into mortal hands. Its orbs were scattered to prevent this very outcome."

He slammed his fist into the command altar. Sparks flew. The room shook.

"The first orb has awakened. But not just any. No…"

He stared at the massive viewing projection now glowing in the center of the room—Earth floating within it like prey in a spider's web.

"It was the Saturn Orb. The second most powerful."

His tone grew harsher.

"Saturn. The orb of judgment. Of divine light. Of acceleration and destruction. That power should be mine!"

The aliens hissed in distress, clicking and screeching, pleading in their own tongue.

He raised a hand for silence.

"You were created for one purpose—to bring the orbs to me. Not to fail. Not to retreat. Not to let a confused Earthling unlock one of the most dangerous relics the universe has ever sealed."

He stepped closer to them.

"You don't understand the gravity of what you've unleashed. The first orb has awakened. The others will stir. They will call to one another."

He raised his voice.

"And he—whoever he is—he now carries the Saturn Orb."

He let the words hang like poison.

"You've doomed the quiet phase. Now chaos begins."

Then, through clenched teeth:

"That orb was mine. All of them were. I built the Septasphere before they shattered it. Before they locked me away. Before I took this body and rose again."

He turned, facing the stars through the massive viewing window.

"Seven orbs… seven guardians… seven locks on the gate."

His voice dropped to a whisper.

"Now, one has opened."

Then he screamed—louder than any starquake:

"THE SEPTASPHERE WAS MINE!"

The echo slammed against every wall, vibrating into the hearts of every creature in the room.

He turned back to the soldiers, ice in his tone.

"I will return to Earth myself. And if that boy has truly awakened Saturn…"

His voice sharpened like a blade.

"Then I will tear it from his bones."

A new command flared across the room—urgent, final.

"Activate the Rift Engines. Ready the Scourge Fleet."

He stared at the Earth one last time.

"We find the other six before he does."

And beneath his breath—low, hungry, certain:

"Because if he unlocks another orb… I won't just lose the Septasphere…"

"I'll lose everything."

Back on earth

The classroom lights flickered on. Sunlight streamed through the windows. Birds chirped outside.

It was a perfectly normal school day at PNHS.

Mr. Shawn walked into Class 1-A holding a thick binder labeled "AFTER-SCHOOL ACTIVITY FORMS: STOP LOSING THESE."

He looked around like he was expecting someone to be upside down on a chair.

"Everyone's seated. No one's sword fighting. No one's climbing desks?"

"Yet," Akuma said from the back.

Mr. Shawn sighed. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that. Now, before we start—reminder: you all have training after school. PE track rotation. No skipping."

Groans broke out like a wave.

"Why do we have to run in circles?" Ronald said. "It's psychological warfare."

"It's cardio," Mr. Shawn corrected.

"Same thing."

Shane raised a hand without looking up from her notebook. "Can we pick our own partners for drills this time?"

Mr. Shawn blinked. "You say that like I won't pair you with Ronald again."

Ronald slammed a fist on his desk. "She made me do 50 pushups as punishment for sneezing."

"You sneezed on me," Shane said calmly.

Zane yawned. "Can't we just skip today and say we trained spiritually?"

"Yeah," Alyas added. "Mind pushups."

Akashi looked up from his book. "You guys don't actually hate training. You just like complaining in stereo."

"We have a system," Ronald said proudly. "He whines, I echo. Teamwork."

Mayari was already filling out a form. "I'm submitting a request to skip practice for 'philosophical reflection.' Let's see if they fall for it."

Mr. Shawn waved the binder. "No one's skipping. You run, or you mop the gym."

The class fell silent.

"Running it is," Akuma muttered.

In the cafeteria, chaos tasted like cheap spaghetti and mystery sauce.

Class 1-A sat around their usual table, trays clattering and conversations overlapping like a badly tuned radio.

"These nuggets are suspiciously chewy," Ronald said, poking one like it owed him money.

"They're survival training in food form," Akashi replied. "Conquer your fear. Eat the nugget."

Alyas was unwrapping a burrito like it contained state secrets. "I'm ninety percent sure this was rolled with duct tape."

"You'll live," Shane said, taking a sip from her juice box.

Zane sat beside her, eyeing his tray. "Did they… melt the jello?"

Akuma leaned over. "Or did the jello melt itself to escape?"

Mayari ate seaweed chips while reading. "You're all dramatic. My chips are fine."

"That's because they're not glowing," Zane muttered.

Shane nudged him. "Hey. No weird theories. You'll just make yourself paranoid."

"Too late," he said, pushing his tray like it might explode.

"Want half my fries?" Shane offered casually.

Zane blinked. "Really?"

"They're not poisoned, if that's what you're asking."

Alyas leaned in. "This is how you know it's love."

Shane kicked him under the table without looking.

Ronald pointed with a chicken stick. "Anyway, who's going to the gym after school?"

"Not me," Akuma said. "I have club meeting."

"You're in a club?" Zane asked.

"Martial arts."

"You need a club to do that?"

"I need a club to legally throw people."

Mayari looked up. "Isn't it technically a self-defense demonstration?"

Akuma shrugged. "Tomato, thrown-body."

Alyas pulled out a small notebook. "I've written a list of reasons why I shouldn't be forced to run today."

"Does one of them involve fainting near the vending machine again?" Akashi asked.

"I was meditating!" Alyas insisted.

"You were eating a corn dog while lying on the floor," Shane said.

Zane laughed quietly, and Shane smiled, then looked away like it didn't happen.

Mr. Shawn suddenly passed by, holding a tray and a walkie-talkie.

"If I see one of you pretending to cramp up today, you're running two extra laps tomorrow."

"That feels targeted," Ronald muttered.

"It is targeted," Shawn said, not even slowing down.

The bell rang faintly in the distance.

Akashi stood. "Welp. Time to stretch before training."

"I'm stretching emotionally," Zane said, still sitting.

"Emotionally stiff," Alyas added. "Very fragile boy."

Shane stood, grabbed Zane's tray, and nudged him up. "C'mon. I'm not letting you limp halfway through a jog again."

"It was ONE TIME—"

"You tripped over your own water bottle."

"It was an ambush."

Mayari stood with them, calmly rolling her scroll. "It's going to be a long afternoon."

"Yep," Shane said, glancing at Zane. "But at least it won't be boring."