Chapter 1
The world burned, and then it froze.
The Cataclysm came without warning—a cascade of nuclear detonations that shattered continents and plunged the Earth into a nuclear hellscape. The skies turned ash-gray, blotting out the sun, and the once great cities of humanity crumbled into ruins. New York, Tokyo, London—all reduced to skeletal remains, their skyscrapers leaning like broken teeth against the horizon. The air thick with radiation, and the survivors forever changed.
Humanity slowly clawed its way back from the brink. The survivors, scattered across a reforged planet, found themselves transformed. Some called it a miracle; others, a curse. The radiation had altered them, awakening dormant abilities tied to the stars themselves. These powers, known as Astrons, were both a blessing and a burden. They offered strength, resilience, and the promise of survival in a harsh new world—but they also demanded discipline, sacrifice, and a price that few were willing to pay.
In the wake of the Cataclysm, the Astrons came—gifting humanity the power to survive the ruin of the old world. These abilities were meant for all, a birthright for every survivor. But knowledge, like all things, could be stolen.
Amid the chaos of North America’s fallen nations, the Verdance Dynasty rose to power in a storm of blood and fire, crushing all who stood against them. When the smoke cleared, Queen Primera stood triumphant, proclaiming herself the protector of a broken world. Under her rule, the United Confederation was forged—not as a beacon of hope, but as an empire built on a lie.
The Dynasty’s control was absolute, enforced not just by steel, but by the systematic erasure of truth. They hoarded the knowledge of Astrons, twisting what was once common into myth. Over the decades, the power that should have belonged to all was stripped away, locked behind the Covenant of Silence—an oath forced upon the few permitted to wield it: the royal bloodline and their personal army. Those who refused the covenant were silenced, those who managed to escape were forced to the darkest corners of the continent. To speak of Astrons to the uninitiated became treason. To seek them, heresy. All enforced by the Astronic power of the Covenant of Silence.
To the common people, the Verdance Dynasty were saviors, their gleaming arcologies standing as monuments to order in a world still clawing back from extinction. But beyond their walls, in the slums and the wastelands, the truth festered. The privileged lived in luxury, their Astronic gifts a symbol of their divine right. The rest starved, toiled, and forgot—until even the memory of power became nothing more than a whispered legend.
However, legends have a way of returning when they are needed most.
Chapter 1
Arthur leaned over the solar carburetor, his grease-streaked fingers meticulously tightening bolts and aligning circuits. The faint hum of the S8 engine under his hands was a comforting reminder of simpler things—machines that followed rules, systems that could be fixed. Unlike people. Unlike the world. The rhythmic pulse of the engine matched the pounding bassline in his headphones, a steady anchor in the chaos of his thoughts.
“Shoutout my label that’s me. I’m in this bitch with TB. I’m in this bitch with Four-Trey...”
The music thumped, drowning out the clatter of tools and the occasional shouts from other mechanics in the shop. Arthur nodded along, his head bobbing to the beat as he adjusted a fuel intake valve. The shop was a symphony of noise—grinding metal, hissing hydraulics, and the occasional burst of laughter—but Arthur was in his own world. Here, he was in control. Here, he could control how things went.
He had always been good with his hands. Even as a kid, he’d taken apart old radios and broken appliances, trying to understand how they worked. His father, a mechanic had taught him the basics before he passed. “In a broken world,” his father used to say, “the ones who can fix things are the ones who survive.” Arthur had taken those words to heart. But as he grew older, he began to wonder if fixing machines was enough. The world was still broken, and no amount of tinkering could change that.
“ARTHUR!”
The voice pierced through the music like a bullet through glass. Arthur blinked, pulling his headphones off and glancing up. His heart skipped a beat as he saw Carlos, his coworker, standing in the doorway. Carlos’s face pale, his usual easygoing demeanor replaced by something sharper, more urgent.
“There’s a fight in the main lobby!” Carlos shouted, his voice cracking under the strain.
Arthur frowned, wiping his hands on a rag. “Carlos, I’ve been on this carburetor all day. Why would you distract me for—”
He stopped mid-sentence, his ears catching the faint echoes of shouting from the lobby. His brow furrowed as he recognized one of the voices. It was high-pitched, furious, and achingly familiar.
“No way... Eve?” he muttered under his breath. The name tasted strange after so long. He glanced at his watch—29 January, 100 AC. She should’ve been at the Academy, being introduced to the highest echelons of the Confederacy—she had left him behind for. The second semester had definitely started by now, not that he was keeping track.
Shaking his head, Arthur dismissed the thought and turned back to his work. But then, he heard it.
“ARTY!”
His heart skipped a beat. That nickname—it could only be her. He handed his tools to Carlos without another word and bolted for the lobby, his boots leaving smudges of motor oil on the concrete floor.
The scene in the lobby was chaos.
A beautiful, petite girl in grey jean shorts and an orange “Keep the World Clean” shirt stood at the counter, her fists clenched so tightly her knuckles were chalk white. Her brown hair framed her face like a storm cloud, and her eyes burning with barely contained fury. She was a whirlwind of energy, her presence commanding the room even as she stood still.
“Let me in! All I want to do is see Arty!” she shouted, her voice sharp enough to cut through steel.
The receptionist, Cherie, stood her ground, arms crossed and lips pursed. “Look, if you want to see Arthur, you’ll have to wait until after his shift. He’s our best mechanic. We can’t have him wasting time on—”
“ON WHAT, BITCH?!” Eve roared, interrupting her. Her voice echoed off the walls, drawing the attention of every mechanic and customer in the lobby. “Are you calling me a waste of time?”
Arthur pushed through the crowd, his hands still smeared with grease. “Eve, calm down, I’m right here!”
She spun on her heel, her fiery gaze landing on him. The tension in her shoulders melted instantly, replaced by something softer, almost vulnerable.
“Arty!” she exclaimed, her voice cracking with relief. She darted toward him, burying her face in his chest. Her hair smelled like starlight, and her scent—warm, earthy, familiar—something he’d bottled in his mind for years, thinking she’d never stay close enough to share it.
Arthur placed his hands gently on her shoulders, ignoring his internal turmoil. “Eve, I’m right here. No need to fight Cherie. Though, I must admit, watching beautiful women argue over me is a nice change of pace.”
Eve pulled back just enough to punch his arm. “Dumbass. This isn’t a joke. I need to talk to you. It’s serious.”
The room was silent now, every eye on the pair. Eve glanced around, her cheeks flushing as she realized the scene she’d caused. Without another word, she grabbed Arthur’s hand and yanked him toward the exit.
“Eve, what the hell is going on?” Arthur demanded as she dragged him across the parking lot with surprising strength. “Why aren’t you at the Academy? And what’s so urgent that you had to start a war in the lobby?”
Eve didn’t answer until they reached her bright yellow buggy, parked haphazardly in the corner spot. She turned to face him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.
“I need you,” she said, her voice trembling.
“For what?” Arthur asked, exasperated. “You’re not making any sense. I literally haven’t seen you in two years?”
“Avery...” Her voice cracked, and she swallowed hard. “Avery is... part of the CLF.”
Arthur blinked. “The CL—what?”
“The CLF!” she snapped, her voice breaking. “The ones who shot up the airport in Marietta last week. I haven’t heard from Avery since, and I know—I know—he was there. I saw his eyes, Arthur. I know my brother.”
Arthur stepped back, trying to process her words. “Eve, that’s insane. Avery just graduated from the Academy. He’s a good guy. Passionate, yeah, but—CLF? Terrorists? You don’t even have proof!”
Eve looked down, her hands trembling. “I don’t need proof,” she whispered. “I need you to trust me.”
Arthur stared at her, his mind racing. The weight of her words pressed down on him, suffocating, inescapable.
And then, something extraordinary happened.
Eve placed her hand on the buggy’s dashboard. Her eyes flared, glowing like molten gold. Arthur felt the air grow cold, as though the sun itself had vanished. The buggy’s solar gauge, previously empty, surged to full.
“Eve...” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “Your eyes just—what the hell was that?”
She smiled, a cocky, radiant smirk that sent a shiver down his spine. “This why you need to trust me.”
For a moment, she seemed to shimmer, her entire being radiating with an unearthly light.
Arthur took a deep breath, his resistance crumbling. “Fine,” he muttered, circling around to the passenger side. “But if I die, I’m haunting you and we need to go by my house first.”
Arthur shares a meaningful glance with Eve, “Plus Charlie would love to see you.”
Eve slid into the driver’s seat, her smile turning watery. “She’s probably so big now.”
The buggy’s vinyl seats stuck to Arthur’s thighs as Eve peeled out of the mechanic shop’s parking lot. Her familiar scent—sun-warmed cotton and that strawberry shampoo she’d used since they were kids—flooded the cab. Arthur’s fingers twitched toward the dashboard, bracing for a turn he knew was coming before Eve even jerked the wheel.
“Still drive like you’re being chased by hellhounds, I see,” he grumbled.
Eve’s answering grin was all teeth. “Still complain like an old woman, I see.”
The retort should’ve stung. But as the wind whipped through the open windows, carrying the tang of ozone from the approaching storm, Arthur caught a flash of red leaves plastered to the buggy’s floorboard—some relic from one of Eve’s “lucky” collections. Suddenly, he wasn’t in the car anymore.
10 years prior
“Higher, Arty! I’m almost there!”
Ten-year-old Eve’s voice rang out from above, her bare feet scraping against the gnarled oak’s trunk as she climbed. The sun filtered through the leaves, casting dappled light over the three of them—Eve, already halfway up the tree; Arthur, hesitating at the base.
Arthur’s stomach lurched. The branch beneath Eve’s bare feet bowed dangerously, and the ground was a stomach-churning drop away. “You’re gonna fall,” he called up, knuckles white on the bark.
“Ugh, you sound like a grandma.” Eve rolled her eyes, but her grip tightened. A gust of wind whipped her curls into her face, and for a second, she wobbled—Arthur’s heart stopped—but she just laughed, kicking her legs. “Scaredy-cat. Bet you can’t even climb to the first branch.”
“I don’t wanna,” Arthur muttered. But he did. He hated how Eve made him feel cowardly. Hated how she’d tease him after, calling him “Stuck-on-the-Ground Arty” for weeks.
Gritting his teeth, he grabbed the lowest branch and slowly climbed his way up to Eve. The bark scraping his palms as he climbed, then suddenly—his foot slipped.
Eve’s hand shot out, yanking him onto the branch beside her. “Took you long enough,” she sniffed, but her grin was smug. “Now we’re both kings of the world.”
Arthur’s heart hammered. The view was amazing—the whole ruined town sprawled below, the sunset painting the rubble gold. But all he could think was: If we fall, Mom’ll kill me.
Eve leaned out further, stretching toward a cluster of red leaves. “Avery says these are lucky. Gonna put ’em in my hair.”
“You’re gonna die for leaves?!” Arthur grabbed her shirt.
“Ugh, fine.” She huffed but let him pull her back. “You’re such a grandma. But…” She plucked a leaf and tucked it behind his ear. “Now you’re a pretty grandma.”
Arthur flushed, swatting it away. Eve just cackled, then— a sickening crack. The branch under Eve snapped.
Eve barely had time to yelp before Arthur’s arms locked around her waist, as he jumped off his branch to drag her into a softer landing on a particularly fluffy bush. They tumbled out in a heap, scratched and breathless.
“See?” Eve spat out a leaf, grinning. “Wasn’t that fun!”
Arthur stared. Her knee was bleeding, her hair full of twigs and leaves—but she looked proud, like she’d planned the whole thing.
But he didn’t notice her hands shaking.
Back to the present day
The drive to Arthur’s house was quiet as Arthur came back to reality. Eve hummed to herself, hands steady on the wheel, as Arthur stared out the window. The streets were lined with old-world ruins, their broken silhouettes a reminder of a time long gone. Solar lamps dotted the sidewalks, casting a dim glow over neighbors returning home from communal duties. The buggy’s quiet hum matched the weight in Arthur’s chest.
After a few minutes, Arthur broke the silence. “Eve... are you okay? I mean, really okay?”
Eve’s hands tightened on the wheel. “I don’t know, Arty. I’m scared. Avery’s my brother, but... what if he’s really gone? What if I can’t stop him?”
Arthur reached over, placing a hand on her shoulder. “We’ll figure it out. Together. Like we always do.”
Eve glanced at him, her eyes softening. “Thanks, Arty. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Arthur smiled, though his heart ached. He didn’t know what the future held, but he knew one thing for certain: he’d follow Eve to the ends of the Earth if she asked like he always did. And that scared him more than anything.
They pulled up to a modest house on the edge of the district. Its exterior was well-kept but weathered, a testament to his mother’s efforts to maintain a semblance of normalcy. Arthur stepped out, glancing at Eve. “Stay here for a bit. I’ll let you know when you can come in.”
Eve nodded, leaning back in her seat.
Inside, Arthur’s mother, Helena, was in the kitchen, wiping down the counters. Her auburn hair, streaked with silver, was tied back in a loose bun. She turned when the door opened, a warm smile lighting up her tired face.
“Arthur? You’re home early,” she said, her voice carrying a hint of surprise. But her expression shifted as she noticed his tense posture. “What’s wrong?”
Arthur hesitated, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Mom, I need to talk to you. Can we sit?”
Helena frowned but nodded, pulling out a chair at the small kitchen table. “What’s going on, sweetheart?”
Arthur sat across from her, his eyes heavy with unspoken words. “I have to leave… for a while.”
The silence between them stretched thin. Helena’s hand instinctively went to her wedding ring, twisting it as she searched his face for answers. “Leave? Where? Why?”
“Eve showed up today. It’s… complicated, but she needs my help. It’s serious, Mom. I can’t say much, but I have to go.”
Helena sighed, leaning back in her chair. Her gaze dropped to the floor before returning to his. “I knew this day would come,” she murmured. “Arthur, you’ve been here for so long, holding everything together. For me. For Charlie. I’ve been so grateful, but I’ve also hated myself for letting you carry so much. You’ve given up so much of your life. I knew you would have to leave eventually”
Arthur shook his head. “Mom, it wasn’t like that. I wanted to be here.”
“No,” she said softly. “You needed to be here. And I let that happen. I completely understand son, but I’m not the one who needs this conversation. You know that.”
Arthur swallowed hard, nodding. He stood, his chair scraping against the floor. “I’ll talk to her.”
Helena’s eyes glistened as she watched him leave the kitchen. “Arthur… just be gentle. She adores you.”
Charlie’s room was a colorful explosion of stuffed animals, toys, and dolls. The five-year-old was sitting cross-legged on the floor, her curls bouncing as she chattered to her dolls. She didn’t notice Arthur and Eve at first.
Eve stepped in first, crouching down with a wide grin. “Charlie! Oh my gosh, you’ve grown so much! Look at you—you’re beautiful!”
Charlie looked up, her face lighting up with recognition. “Evie!” she squealed, launching herself into Eve’s arms. Arthur leaned against the doorframe, watching the scene unfold. His throat tightened as he saw Eve twirling Charlie around, her laugh filling the room. It struck a nerve deep inside him—how much he’d missed moments like these, how much he loved the women in his life, despite how much he hated being stuck here while Eve was living his dream and seeing the rest of the world.
He cleared his throat, snapping himself out of his thoughts. “Eve, can I talk to Charlie for a second?”
Eve nodded, gently setting Charlie down. “I’ll be right outside, okay?” She brushed past Arthur, giving him a brief look before closing the door behind her.
Arthur knelt down, his broad frame suddenly seeming small in the glow of the soft lamp in Charlie’s room. She looked up at him, eyes wide as she tilted her head, clutching Scamper the stuffed penguin to her chest. Her big, innocent eyes searched his face with the kind of unfiltered honesty only a child could manage.
“What’s wrong, Arty?” she asked, her voice soft and careful, like she could sense the heaviness of his heart. She held out Scamper with both hands. “You can hold Scamper if you want. He always makes me feel better.”
Arthur’s breath hitched as he reached out and gently took the penguin, squeezing it. The fabric was worn, a patch on the belly stitched with the unskilled but loving hands of a five-year-old. He smiled despite himself, even as his chest tightened.
“Thanks, Charlie,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Scamper’s the best, huh?”
She nodded enthusiastically, “The bestest.”
Arthur set Scamper down gently on his knee, meeting her gaze. “Charlie, listen to me. I need to tell you something really important, okay?”
Her smile faded, her little brows furrowing. “Okay…”
He reached out, brushing a stray curl from her face, his hand trembling slightly. “I have to go away for a little while.”
Charlie’s face fell, her lips parting in confusion. “Go away? Why? Did I do something bad?”
Arthur’s heart broke at the question. He leaned forward, wrapping his arms around her tiny frame. “No, Charlie. Never. This isn’t about you. You’re the best little sister anyone could ever have. I’m going because… because I have to help someone. It’s like when I go to work to fix things, remember? But this time, it’s bigger. It’s something only I can do.”
Her small arms tightened around his neck as she pressed her face into his shoulder. “But I don’t want you to go,” she whimpered. “What if you don’t come back?”
Arthur closed his eyes, his tears slipping free as he held her closer. He rested his chin on her curls, inhaling the scent of strawberry shampoo. “I will come back. I promise. You know I never break my promises, right?”
She sniffled, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes. Her cheeks were wet, her lower lip trembling. “Promise, Arty?”
“I promise,” he said firmly, wiping a tear from her cheek with his thumb. “You’re my number one, Charlie. I could never leave you forever. Not in a million years.”
Charlie hesitated, then glanced at Scamper, still perched on Arthur’s knee. She picked up the penguin and held it out to him again. “Then you should take Scamper. He’ll keep you safe.”
Arthur’s throat tightened, and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep from breaking down. He took the penguin carefully, cradling it like it was the most precious thing in the world. “Of course he will, Charlie,” he whispered. “I’m going to miss you so much.”
Charlie started to cry harder, big tears streaming down her cheeks. She grabbed his leg, holding on as tightly as her little hands could manage. “Don’t go, Arty! Please! I’ll be really good! I’ll even eat my broccoli!”
Arthur couldn’t hold back anymore. He scooped her up again, pressing kisses to her forehead as he rocked her gently. “Oh, Charlie…” His voice cracked as he whispered, “I love you more than anything in this world. But I have to go. Just for a little while.”
She sobbed into his shoulder, clutching his shirt with tiny fists. Arthur stayed like that for what felt like forever, letting her cry as he tried to memorize every detail of the moment—the warmth of her in his arms, the sound of her voice, the way her small frame fit perfectly against his.
Finally, he gently set her back on the ground, crouching to her eye level. “You’re my brave girl, okay? And I need you to take care of Mom while I’m gone. Can you do that for me?”
Charlie sniffled, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. She nodded slowly, though her tears didn’t stop. “Okay… but you have to come back.”
“I will,” he said, his voice resolute. He kissed her forehead one last time, then stood, his legs feeling like lead as he turned to leave the room.
“Arty!” she cried, her little voice breaking. She threw herself onto the floor, sobbing, “Don’t go!”
Arthur closed the door behind him, leaning against it as the sound of her cries pierced his heart. His own tears fell silently, streaking down his face. When he finally found the strength to move, he wiped his eyes and headed down the hallway, where Eve was waiting.
She didn’t say anything, her eyes glancing at the tear tracks on his face. Instead, she simply started walking toward the front door. Arthur stopped by his room to grab some clothes before following his chest hollow and heavy.
Helena stood by the front door, her expression soft and understanding. She placed a hand on Arthur’s arm as he passed. “She’ll be okay,” she said gently.
Arthur nodded but couldn’t speak. His throat was too tight. He just shared a meaningful glance with his mom and handed her Scamper.
His mom began tearing up as she took the doll from him, now understanding the potential danger he could be facing but says nothing as he walks away.
Arthur and Eve stepped outside, the air suddenly colder than before. He climbed into the buggy, settling into the passenger seat as Eve started the engine.
Arthur turned to her, his voice low and raw. “Tell me everything, Eve. No half-truths. No secrets. I need to know exactly what I’m getting into.”
Eve’s hands tightened on the wheel, her jaw clenching. She nodded, her face serious. “You deserve that. I’ll tell you everything.”
The engine roared to life, while the faint sound of Charlie’s cries echoed in Arthur’s mind as they drove into the night.
