GALORIA-SEASON 2

## Season 2, Episode 1: Galoria's Second Try

The morning after the tournament was quiet. Not in a comfortable way, like the peace of an idle school, but in a terrible, heavy, and choking way. Noah couldn't sleep. Three broken ribs, according to the infirmary record, throbbed in his chest while his torso was covered with bloody bandages. The injuries had started to heal, but they had been torn open again. Noah sat on the steps of the eastern dormitory and gazed at the grey sky. He tried to remember what it felt like to be whole again.

He hadn't heard Aiden approaching, and he hadn't expected this either.

"Get your pathetic ass up".

The boot landed on his broken ribs. Noah cried out from the pain, hunched over, and Aiden kicked him again, forcing him to the ground. "Your so goddamn fucking useless." Another kick. "WHY WERE YOU EVEN INVITED INTO THIS SCHOOL IN THE FIRST PLACE!" Another. "Get up!" Another. "UP!"

Aiden sounded like a blade cutting deep. His robotic eye buzzed, tracking Noah's movements and showing his anger. At least his organic eye seemed full of it.

Noah tried to get up. His arms trembled, and his ribcage hurt. Aiden took a step back and ordered one of his drones—his slim and deadly toy with a whirling metallic sound of imminent violence. "Crush him".

The arm of the drone was going to hit him, and Noah closed his eyes...

But it didn't land.

Noah opened his eyes. A small figure stood between him and the drone, and the wooden stick in his trembling hands blocked it. The drone's arm was stopped in the middle of the movement by the strength of a little boy.

"Aiden, leave him alone—"

"Leave him alone?" Aiden asked. His voice remained flat. "No."

"Why?" The little boy's voice quivered. "What makes you so... so centered on him? He hasn't done anything to you."

Aiden's robotic eye focused on the kid and recalibrated its target. For a moment, a flash of surprise or something passed through its gaze, but then it was gone. "He's horrible. He's a waste of potential, and there's no reason for him to be here, besides breathing air that he doesn't deserve".

He kicked Noah one last time—sharp and cruel to his shoulder. Then he walked away from him. His footsteps reverberated on the stone and drowned in the mist. The drone retracted its arm and followed him.

Noah was about to get up himself, but suddenly the small figure of the boy knelt in front of him, his hands hovering above Noah's trembling body. "You okay? Can you breathe? Should I get the nurse?"

Noah tried to sit up. "I'm fine. I'm—" He coughed, and the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth. "I'm fine."

"You're not fine." The boy's voice sounded soft but strong, like a weapon made of words. "He just kicked you until you couldn't stand up, and you're bleeding through your bandages. That's not fine."

Noah looked at this boy—this small person with a stick in his hands that was strong enough to block a drone, trembling hands, and brave eyes. "...Why did you do that? You could have gotten hurt."

The boy was silent for a while. Then he raised his stick, and a small object began to take form at its end—white fur, blue eyes, a tiny pink nose. A little cat materialized from nowhere and pounced on Noah's lap, where it began to purr.

"His name is Snowball," the boy said. "I can summon things. Small things, mostly. He's my favorite." He hesitated. "You can keep him. If you want."

Noah looked at the cat. The cat looked at him unblinking and then butted his head against Noah's palm. Noah's heart tightened in his chest, and it seemed to have become looser somehow.

"I don't know what to say," Noah managed to say.

"You don't have to say anything." The boy stood, grabbing his stick. "My name's Nurislam, by the way. I know we haven't really talked. I'm not very good at talking. But I saw what he was doing, and I thought..." He hesitated. "I thought someone should stop him".

"My name's Noah," Noah said. "Noah".

The boy smiled—fragile and beautiful. "Nice to meet you, Noah. I hope you feel better soon." He turned and walked away, his footsteps soft on the stone, leaving Noah alone with the first gift he had got since he arrived at Galoria.

Noah touched Snowball's fur with his hand. The cat purred louder, pressing his head to Noah's palm. "...Thanks," Noah whispered to nobody, to the cat, to the little boy who disappeared into the mist.

---

The alley behind the training facility was narrow and dark—exactly the right place for a confrontation that no one needed to witness. The alley smelled like damp stones and old garbage. The walls had plenty of scars, left there by the illegal sparring sessions of years past. Max knew the alley well. He had been meeting Aiden here for months—not by agreement but inevitably.

Today, Aiden was already waiting. Two combat drones waited for him too, their optics glowing red in the dim light. He didn't say anything when Max came. He just stood, crossing his arms and using his robotic eye to watch.

Max was staring at the clock hanging on the far wall—old and rusty thing someone put there long ago and forgot. He could feel how each second passed, and it made him closer to something he couldn't name. "Y'know, why do you keep comin'?"

"I always go through this alley." Aiden's voice sounded flat, but his words contained a hidden warning.

"No, you don't. You go out of your way to come through this alley. Every day. Same time. Same place." Max turned to face Aiden, rotating his clock necklace lazily in his hands. "So I'll ask again. Why do you keep comin'?"

"Because I know you'll be here." The words slipped from his tongue, but he didn't have a chance to stop them. He felt a sharp jolt of surprise.

Max raised his eyebrow. "So you're looking for me? That's almost sweet."

"Don't." The word cut him like a dagger. "Don't make this into something it's not."

"Then what is it? Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you can't stay away from me. And I can't figure out if you want to kill me or—"

"We can do this right here, right now." The drones activated their weapons systems with a whirring sound.

Max didn't wait for it. He lunged at Aiden, throwing his fist at his face. Aiden caught it easily and used Max's momentum to throw him on the ground. Before Max could even get up, the drones were on him—hitting him with their metal fists with mechanical precision. Each impact forced the air from his lungs and increased the pain in his already hurt body.

"It's over, you time-warping freak." Aiden's voice was cold, but his hands were shaking slightly, and he didn't seem to notice.

Max coughed blood on the cobblestones. "Not... quite." He raised his clock, and the time stuttered.

The world reset. The drones went back to their original places. Max was on his feet, and Aiden was in the middle of his speech, and Max's fist was already hitting the back of Aiden's head.

Aiden stumbled, surprised. Max didn't waste any time—he kicked Aiden in his knee, forcing him to the ground. "Why do you even hate me so much?" Max asked. "I mean, it's fun to argue back and forth. Constantly doing this is entertaining. But you—" He stopped. "You actually hate me. Like, genuinely hate me. And I don't get it."

Aiden didn't answer. He didn't know the reason. He never knew it. Max was infuriating and reckless, but he wasn't the reason of Aiden's disgust.

"Get to the point, you arrogant asshole."

Max smiled. It wasn't a nice smile. "Fine. I'll get to the point. Why do you try to despise me so much? Just don't get it. You go out of your way to fight me. You let me get under your skin in ways no one else can. And I'm starting to think—"

"Just shut up."

"—that you don't hate me at all. I think you hate that you don't hate me. And that scares you more than anything I could ever do."

Something in Aiden snapped.

He hit Max without thinking. Again and again, his fists rained on Max's body, each blow making Aiden feel more furious and more scared. "SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP!" Aiden hit Max hard—so hard that Max's blood began to smear his knuckles. But it didn't matter—it couldn't matter.

The red haze of fury and rage took Aiden and drowned everything in it. Everything was noise and nothing else.

He grabbed Max by his throat. Squeezed it. "Your so fucking hopeless, so hopeless, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, FUCK YOU! I'm tired of having to deal with your stupid ass, SO JUST SHUT UP—"

"Aiden...?"

The words cut through Aiden like a sword through the fog. He stopped. His hands were still on Max's throat. Max was losing color, his eyes widened in shock—he couldn't believe that this was happening. Blood stained Aiden's knuckles, but it wasn't Max's—it was his, from hitting the ground. But it made no difference. It didn't matter that it wasn't Max's blood—it made him a murderer.

Nurislam stood at the entrance of the alley with his staff in both hands. "...What are you... doing? Killing y-your own teammate...?"

Aiden looked at his hands. At his throat. At the blood. And saw himself in this horror on Nurislam's face.

Monster. He was a monster. Exactly like his father.

He stood up slowly. His legs were numb, and his hands wouldn't stop shaking. He looked at Max—who was lying there, gasping for breath, still alive, still staring at him with these unbreakable eyes—and realized that for the first time in his life, he didn't know what to do.

*Fuck. I let my emotions get ahead of me. I should do better... I HAVE TO DO BETTER.*

Max sat up and rubbed his throat. Bruises were already appearing—purple fingerprints from Aiden's robotic hand. His clock necklace was cracked, the hands spinning randomly. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!" He stood up, his voice cracking from fury and something else. Something like betrayal. "WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU!"

Aiden's fists clenched. He didn't answer. He couldn't.

"FUCKING ANSWER ME!" Max conjured another clock—the largest one he created before—and hit Aiden with it. The blow sent Aiden stumbling backward, but he didn't fall. He just stood there and took it, not reacting.

Max looked at him for a moment. Then he turned around and walked away, his footsteps echoing in the silence.

Nurislam watched him leave. His face was still pale, his staff still trembling in his hands. Then he looked at Aiden—frozen and unmoving, standing there like some kind of monument to himself—and said quietly. "...Aiden..." The name sounded so much. Then he turned around and ran away.

Aiden didn't move. He couldn't. The walls he had built around himself were collapsing, and all he could do was stand there and watch.

*It'll be fine. I'll fix it. I'll always fix it.* The mantra repeated automatically in his mind—like a code to solve some difficult problem. It had worked for years—since Aiden was twelve. But now it felt empty.

The problem he was solving wasn't a machine.

---

**[End of Season 2, Episode 1]**