The starborn lagacy

Earth-1123 was a planet of smoke, steel, and skies forever tinted orange. The massive sun—known as Emberlight—glowed fiercely over the industrial crown cities, its heat blending with the sparks of welding torches and the rumble of titanic engines. In this age, kingdoms were not ruled by knights, but by mecha legions—towering metal guardians piloted by elite warriors and maintained by engineers whose hands stained with grease more often than ink.

And among thousands of workers living beneath these steel giants, one name carried more whispers than honor.

Nex Arclight.

A seventeen-year-old boy with storm-gray eyes and hair that shimmered under sunlight like strands of silver wire. He walked through life with a quiet determination, shoulders always squared, gaze always steady—yet every footstep echoed with a silence forced upon him by the people who refused to see past the sins of his father.

The clang of metal rang through the workshop hangar long before Nex arrived. Rows of unfinished mechas towered overhead—some humanoid, some beastlike, each awaiting the hands of engineers who worked tirelessly to keep the kingdom’s machines of war running.

Nex entered the hangar, toolkit slung over his shoulder, boots leaving marks on the metal floor. The moment the workers noticed him, the air shifted—like a gust of wind sweeping through a field of brittle grass.

Whispers again.

Always whispers.

“There he is…”

“The Arclight boy.”

“Keep your tools close.”

“Surprised they still allow him here.”

Nex exhaled softly. Another day, he told himself. Just work. Ignore them.

He approached a massive, half-disassembled battle mecha: the Aegis-Type Sovereign, one of the kingdom’s prized heavy units. Its armor gleamed faintly, reflecting Nex’s faint silhouette as he placed a hand on it.

“Morning, Sovereign,” he muttered, speaking to the machine as if it were alive. And to him, maybe it was. Each mech had a soul—its hum, its structural quirks, its own mechanical heartbeat.

A voice barked behind him.

“Oi! Arclight!”

Nex turned. Foreman Drail, a large man with a bald head and arms like welded steel pipes, approached with a scowl carved deep into his face.

“You’re late,” Drail growled.

Nex checked the chrono-clock on the wall. “It’s 0600 exactly.”

“Don’t talk back,” Drail snapped. “With your bloodline? You should be grateful we even let you through the damn gates.”

Nex said nothing. Arguing never changed anything.

“Your assignment is the Sovereign’s arm module.” Drail jabbed a thumb toward the massive limb lying beside the mech. “It’s jammed again.”

“I’ll handle it,” Nex said quietly.

“You better.” Drail leaned close, lowering his voice to a cutting whisper. “One mistake, boy… and you’re out. Understand?”

Nex nodded.

Drail walked away, muttering to the other workers. Laughter followed.

Nex tightened his gloves. The hurt was familiar, but so was his resolve.

The Sovereign’s right arm lay on a suspension rack, detached from its body. Its interior circuitry glowed with faint pulses of blue, like veins of a metallic beast.

Nex placed his palm on the cooling metal, closed his eyes, and inhaled deeply. The machine’s faint hum vibrated through his skin.

“Let’s see what’s wrong with you.”

He picked up a diagnostic rod, inserted it into the arm’s neural socket, and watched holographic data bloom above him. Circuits, pathways, power cores—hundreds of components flickered in his mind like puzzle pieces rearranging themselves instantly.

His hands moved with natural ease, unscrewing plates, rewiring connections, aligning servo joints. To others, this was advanced engineering. To Nex, it was breathing.

He lost himself in the work—the world falling away, replaced by gears and logic.

Time passed unnoticed until—

“Damn it, Arclight!”

Nex paused mid-weld, looking down from the scaffold. A group of younger engineers glared at him.

“You’re blocking the walkway!” one shouted.

“Always acting like you own the place,” another spat.

Nex stepped aside without a word. Yet as he moved away, he heard one hiss:

“He’s just like his father.”

Nex froze.

A muscle in his jaw tightened, but he stayed silent. He had heard that line since he was old enough to read. It didn’t matter what he did—fix broken mechs, work faster than veterans, save the kingdom’s machines overtime without complaint—he was still his father’s son.

And they hated him for it.

“Sovereign,” he whispered to the mech, “at least you don’t judge…”

He climbed back up and continued repairing the arm. Minutes later, the circuits hummed in perfect alignment.

Nex smiled faintly.

“That’s better.”

Near midday, the hangar shook with a loud, rhythmic thud. Workers quickly stepped aside, forming a straight line.

Commander Ryven Hale marched in.

Tall, armored, with a presence sharp enough to silence an entire battalion. His cape fluttered behind him, lined with the insignia of the kingdom’s elite forces.

He scanned the area with cold eyes until they landed on Nex.

Nex felt the temperature drop.

“Arclight.”

Nex straightened. “Commander.”

Ryven’s stare was heavy with contempt.

“There were complaints this morning,” Ryven said. His voice carried like thunder coated in ice. “Workers felt… uncomfortable… with your presence.”

Nex clenched his fists but kept them hidden behind his back.

“I didn’t cause any trouble,” he replied.

“Your existence is trouble enough.”

The workers behind Ryven snickered.

Nex looked away.

Ryven stepped closer, boots clicking sharply. “Whatever your father did, whatever stain he left—remember this: the Arclight name is dirt. You breathe because the kingdom allows you to. You work because we tolerate you.”

Nex met the commander’s gaze silently. His eyes did not waver.

Ryven scoffed.

“Fix the Sovereign by evening. We deploy at dawn tomorrow. If it malfunctions, you will take full responsibility.”

He turned sharply and walked away.

Nex exhaled shakily.

Why… do they all hate me?

They don’t even know me.

But the reason didn’t matter.

His father’s past—whatever it was—followed him like a shadow he could never outrun.

Hours passed. Nex continued working without rest. Sweat mixed with engine oil streaked his face. His hands ached, but he didn’t stop.

Slowly, a familiar voice broke through the noise.

“Nex? You haven’t eaten yet, have you?”

He looked up.

Lira Vance, a girl around his age, bright-eyed, wearing the white uniform of an apprentice mechanic. She held a small lunch container.

Nex blinked. “Lira? What are you doing here? You know people talk when you—”

“I don’t care what they say,” Lira huffed, placing the container beside him. “You keep skipping meals. It’s not healthy.”

Nex chuckled weakly. “I’ve eaten worse.”

She crossed her arms. “Eat.”

He sighed and opened the container. Warm steam rose—rice, vegetables, fried protein strips. Simple but comforting. Nex took a bite.

Lira smiled softly. “Better?”

He nodded. “Thanks…”

She sat on a metal crate beside him. “They were giving you trouble again, weren’t they?”

Nex didn’t answer.

She continued, “You don’t have to face everything alone. You know that, right?”

Nex looked at her with a faint smile. “I appreciate it. Really.”

But in his heart, he wondered… How long before even she is forced to turn away?

People avoided him for their own safety. Being seen with him invited trouble.

But Lira never left. She always approached with kindness in a world that refused him.

Before he could thank her again, a loud alarm echoed through the hangar.

“ATTENTION! FIRE IN THE TESTING BAY! ALL ENGINEERS EVACUATE!”

Nex and Lira jumped to their feet.

Smoke billowed from the far side of the hangar. Workers rushed out, coughing, shouting, pushing each other for the exit. Sparks erupted from the bay, and a faint explosion rattled the walls.

Drail sprinted past them, yelling, “The new prototype’s overheating! We need to cool it before it blows!”

Ryven’s voice thundered through the comms:

“Evacuate immediately! Do NOT enter the testing bay!”

Nex’s heart pounded.

The prototype… the Flux-Type Ranger… Lira was working on it yesterday.

Without hesitation, Nex grabbed a fire-suppressor unit.

“Nex?!” Lira shouted. “What are you doing?!”

“I’m stopping it!” he yelled, running toward the bay.

“But they ordered evacuation!”

“If the Ranger explodes, it’ll bring down the whole hangar!”

Without waiting for her reply, Nex sprinted into the thick smoke.

The testing bay was chaos.

Flames crawled across the floor, licking the metal walls. The Flux-Type Ranger stood in the center, trembling violently. Its internal reactor glowed red—unstable.

The machine would detonate within minutes.

Nex coughed, eyes stinging. He dashed to the reactor vent panel, fought the heat, and forced it open.

Too hot…

The coolant system is offline…

Nex worked fast—bypassing safety locks, rerouting power circuits, rewriting the stabilizer code manually through the access port. Sparks danced around him, each movement precise despite the pain searing his fingers.

His vision blurred.

Heat pressed against him like a furnace.

But he didn’t stop.

I am not my father.

I won’t let them hate me for something I didn’t do.

I’ll save this place… even if they never acknowledge it.

Finally—

The reactor’s glow dimmed.

Stabilization sequence complete.

Nex collapsed onto the floor, breathing hard.

Moments later, Drail, Ryven, and workers stormed in. They froze at the sight: Nex lying on the ground, the reactor stable, the fire dying.

Ryven’s jaw clenched.

“You…” he muttered. “You ignored orders.”

Nex staggered to his feet. “The Ranger would’ve exploded.”

Ryven glared. “You endangered everyone!”

“I saved everyone,” Nex said softly.

Gasps spread across the workers.

Ryven stepped forward, grabbing Nex by the collar. “Don’t act like a hero, Arclight. You—”

“Commander!” Lira rushed in. “He saved us! The system logs will show he stabilized the reactor!”

Ryven paused.

Drail swallowed. “She’s right… Commander. The logs confirm it.”

For a moment, Ryven said nothing.

Then he released Nex with a shove.

“You’re not dismissed,” Ryven growled. “But don’t think this earns you respect.”

He walked away.

The workers slowly dispersed, murmuring. Some looked at Nex with surprise—maybe even grudging acknowledgment.

Nex exhaled shakily.

Lira placed a hand on his shoulder. “You could’ve died.”

He gave a tired smile. “At least everyone’s safe.”

Night fell over Earth-1123.

Nex sat alone on the rooftop of the hangar, legs dangling over the edge. The sky shimmered with twin moons and a sea of distant stars—worlds he had never seen, unreachable from the ground.

Lira found him there, sitting quietly beside him.

“You always look up at the sky,” she said gently.

He nodded. “It feels… peaceful.”

“You’re thinking again,” she whispered.

“Yeah.”

Silence stretched between them.

Finally Nex spoke, voice soft:

“I don’t know why the world hates me. I don’t know what he did… but I’m tired of running from a shadow I don’t understand.”

He looked at the stars with longing.

“I want to leave this planet someday. Explore the worlds beyond. Go farther than anyone… maybe even reach the Endline Realm like Orion Vaelros.”

Lira smiled sadly. “You will. I know you will.”

He turned to her. “You really think so?”

She nodded. “Of course. You’re Nex Arclight. You’re destined for more than this workshop, more than their hatred.”

Nex’s eyes softened.

For the first time in years… he believed someone.

As the night wind brushed against them, Nex whispered a quiet vow, one no one else would hear:

“I’ll leave this world.

I’ll write my own name into the stars.

Not for them…

but for myself.”

Far above, a faint flash streaked across the heavens—like the universe itself had heard him.

A journey was waiting.

And Nex Arclight’s story had only just begun.

Too be continue...