Debts

Four hours had passed since Paragon left Earth's atmosphere behind. He was already more than two million kilometers away, the planet now a faint blue dot swallowed by the endless black. Out here, there was no up or down, no sound except the faint hum of his suit's life support and the soft, persistent ping of the enemy signal he was tracking. The silence was total, but his mind was anything but quiet.

He'd been on missions before—long nights, tense patrols, the anxious stillness before a battle. But this was different. There was no city below, no teammates at his side, no distant promise of backup. Just the cold, mathematical certainty of space and the question that wouldn't let him go: Why Halcyon? Why risk so much for one city, out of everywhere on Earth?

He replayed the invasion in his mind, trying to find the answer in the details. The enemy hadn't come in a wave of chaos. Their attack was surgical, precise. They'd bypassed other targets—military bases, government centers, even the planetary defense grid. Instead, they'd gone straight for Halcyon's industrial core, as if they'd known exactly what they were looking for.

He ran through the usual motives. Strategic location? Halcyon was important, but not irreplaceable. Revenge? There was no history, no old wounds that he knew of. Resources? That was always possible, but Earth had plenty of resources, scattered across continents and oceans. Why focus all their firepower on one city?

He drifted through the void, letting the question gnaw at him. The answer was there, just out of reach, like a word on the tip of his tongue.

Then a memory surfaced—half-forgotten, from his early days as a hero. He'd been given a tour of Halcyon's underground, a privilege reserved for the city's elite. He'd seen the vaults, the security systems, the layers of reinforced concrete and energy fields. But what stuck with him wasn't the tech. It was the way the city's engineers talked about the place, almost reverently. "Halcyon's built on a gold mine," they'd say, but they never meant gold.

He'd seen the classified reports once, back when he was still new to the hero business. Geological surveys, mineral rights, security clearances so high most governments didn't even know the details. The reports had mentioned a metal—rhodium. He'd barely paid attention at the time. Just another technical detail, he'd thought. But now, drifting through space, it clicked.

Rhodium. The rarest of the rare. Used in advanced electronics, high-performance energy systems, and the kind of tech that made Halcyon the envy of the world. Gold was child's play compared to this stuff. Diamonds, platinum, even antimatter—none of it touched rhodium's value. At times, it had traded for more than $190,000 per kilogram, and Halcyon's underground veins ran deep. Not just a few tons. Millions.

He let the numbers roll through his mind. One metric ton of rhodium was worth nearly $200 million at current rates. Multiply that by a million, and you had a resource worth almost $200 trillion. If the estimates were right, Halcyon's reserves could be worth even more—enough to buy and sell entire nations, enough to fund wars, revolutions, or the rise and fall of empires.

He realized, with a chill, that this was why the city always had the latest tech, why its defense grids were generations ahead, why its infrastructure never seemed to age. Rhodium was the secret engine powering everything. And as long as it was there, Halcyon would always be a target.

He paused, floating in the dark, letting the scale of it settle in. The invaders hadn't come for conquest, or pride, or even to send a message. They'd come for the rhodium—because in the universe, materials like this were power. Control the supply, and you controlled the future.

He wondered if the people of Halcyon even knew. Did they realize their city was built on a fortune that could change the fate of worlds? Or did they just enjoy the benefits, never questioning why their home was always in someone's crosshairs?

You're out here, too, floating with him. You see it now. The war wasn't about territory or revenge. It was about business. Cold, calculated resource extraction. Halcyon was a gold rush on a cosmic scale, and the invaders were just the latest prospectors.

But then another thought hit him, colder than the vacuum outside his visor.

How did they know?

He'd seen the classified maps, the geological surveys, the security protocols. The location and volume of Halcyon's rhodium was one of Earth's best-kept secrets. Yet the invaders had come straight for it, as if they'd known exactly what was buried beneath the city.

He drifted, letting the realization settle. For them to know, there must have been contact before. Trade, maybe. Or something deeper—an old alliance, a forgotten deal, a betrayal buried in the past. Maybe Earth hadn't always been alone. Maybe Halcyon's founders had traded with off-worlders, or maybe someone had sold them out.

He thought about the city's history. Halcyon was young, as cities went, but it had always been different. Founded by visionaries, or so the story went—scientists, engineers, entrepreneurs who'd come together to build something new. They'd chosen the site for its "unique resources," but the details were always vague. The city's archives were full of gaps, decades where records had been lost or destroyed. There were rumors, of course—stories of secret visitors, strange lights in the sky, technologies that appeared overnight and then vanished just as quickly.

He wondered now if those stories were more than just urban legends. Maybe, once upon a time, Halcyon had been a trading post, a waypoint on some interstellar map. Maybe someone had come to Earth, seen the rhodium, and made a deal. Or maybe they'd just taken notes, waiting for the right moment to come back and claim what they'd found.

He clenched his fists, feeling the weight of it all. The war for Halcyon wasn't new. It was just the latest round in a conflict that might have started long before anyone on Earth realized.

He checked his course, eyes locked on the enemy signal. The answers were out there, somewhere past the next quadrillion kilometers. For now, all he could do was keep moving—and keep thinking.

The truth was bigger than he'd imagined. And whatever waited for him at the end of this journey, it wasn't just about rhodium anymore.

It was about history. And he was flying straight into it.

The silence pressed in, but his mind was a storm. He thought about the top five heroes, still holding the line back in Halcyon. Did they know? Did anyone? Or was he the only one piecing it together, out here in the void? Well, he was sure that "they" knew.

He remembered Titan's words before he left: "Just don't die out there." It had sounded like a joke, but now it felt like a warning. If there was a history between Earth and these invaders, if there had been deals or betrayals, then he was flying blind into a web of secrets older than his city, maybe older than his planet.

He tried to imagine what he'd find at the end of the signal. An enemy stronghold, sure. But what else? Records, maybe. Evidence. Proof that Earth was just one player in a much bigger game. He wondered if he'd find allies, or just more enemies. He wondered if he'd find the truth, or just more questions.

He thought about the people of Halcyon—engineers, scientists, families who'd built their lives on top of a secret they didn't even know they were keeping. He thought about the city's gleaming towers, its endless energy, its quiet confidence. How much of that was built on rhodium? How much of it was built on lies?

He wondered what he'd tell them if he made it back.

He drifted, lost in thought, as the stars wheeled past. The enemy signal grew stronger, a steady pulse in the darkness. He adjusted his course, accelerating, the blue glow of Earth long gone behind him.

He thought about the value of what he was protecting. Millions of tons of rhodium, worth more than any fortune ever imagined. Enough to power civilizations, to build fleets, to wage wars. Enough to make Halcyon a target for as long as it existed.

He wondered if there was a way to hide it, to protect it, to keep it secret. Or if the only answer was to fight, again and again, until the universe lost interest or ran out of would-be conquerors.

He wondered if there was anyone out there who would help, or if everyone would just see Halcyon as a prize to be claimed.

He wondered if he was already too late.

He thought about the invaders—what they'd said, how they'd fought, the way they'd moved through the city as if they'd been there before. He wondered if they'd left anything behind, any clue to their history with Halcyon, any sign that this was more than just a raid.

He wondered if he'd find answers, or just more questions.

He wondered if he was ready for what came next.

He pressed on, the truth burning in his mind, the future of Halcyon—and maybe Earth itself—hanging in the balance.

The silence of space was absolute, but inside his helmet, Paragon's thoughts were a storm. He was flying into history, into secrets buried deeper than the rhodium veins beneath his city. He was flying into the unknown, and he was the only one who could bring back the answers.

And so he flew, two million kilometers from home, alone in the dark, chasing a signal and a secret that might change everything.