- Oliver -

  "Thank you, thank you so much," the Elf whispered, his voice den with emotion. "I thought I would die in the Orks' prison. We've been imprisoned for decades."

  Oliver heard the Elf's words in English, but he noticed that the movements of the Elf's mouth didn't match the sounds. It was as if some automatic transtor was at work. The Elf wasn't inally speaking in that nguage.

  "Uh... don't worry about it. I saved you by ce; I was just trying to survive," Oliver replied, slightly embarrassed by the gratitude.

  "Even so, we are deeply grateful," the Elf responded. "May I e closer?"

  Oliver nodded, but unsure if that gesture meant the same thing to aliens, he decided to answer verbally as well. "Yes."

  The Elder Elf stepped forward until he was only a few timeters from Oliver. Extending both hands, he began to t softly. Before his palms, intricate runes materialized in the air, formed from shimmering particles of Energy.

  Suddenly, a series of notifications fshed in the er of Oliver's vision.

  | Left Eye of Learning| Learning …

  | [Skill] Healing Energy| Progress: 0.01%

  | ERROR

  | You don’t have access to [Are]

  | [Hint] tinue improving your trol over Energy.

  The barrage of messages left him little time to uand everything.

  But the most important thing was that he was healing. Rapidly, his wounds began to close, the bleeding stopped, and the cuts vanished. However, he still felt utterly exhausted.

  "This will help keep you alive, but you will still o rest," the Elf expined, notig Oliver examining his healed wounds.

  "Thank you," Oliver expressed his gratitude for the treatment, but his curiosity didn't stop there. He raised his eyes, the group of Elves.

  In addition to the two elders with long white hair and slightly wrinkled skin, there was a young girl who didn't seem to be more than thirteen, with golden hair casg over her shoulders. Beside her stood a teenage boy, his eyes sharp and filled with caution and wonder.

  ‘Didn't he say they'd been imprisoned for decades?’ Oliver mused silently. Then it dawned on him. ‘Ah, right. Elves live much lohan humans. Wait. Should I trust the mythology I know?’

  Breaking the silence, he asked, "How did you get captured by the Orks?"

  The elder sighed, his eyes refleg distant memories. "We were in the Game's final days, on the brink of freedom. But they ambushed our ship and took us prisoner. Orks have been trying fes to uand how to trol the are and the energy, and we were the easiest way for them to learn," he expined.

  The mention of the "Game" piqued Oliver's curiosity even further. It wasn't the first time he'd heard the term, but crity tio evade him.

  "Over the past few months, I've met several people who've mentiohis 'Game'," Oliver said, his tone careful. "What exactly is it?"

  The elder's expression grew distant, a flicker of apprehension crossing his features. The other elder stepped closer, pg a reassuring hand on his rade's shoulder. They began versing in hushed toheir words flowing in melodic Elvish. While Oliver reized the nguage, his grasp of it was too rudimentary to follow their exge.

  After a moment, the elder turned ba. "It's not that I don't wish to expin or help you," he began cautiously. "But if you're using the Emerald Armor, it means the Father of Elves has returned. If I viote any of the Game's rules, I risk drawing my entire species bato this war."

  Oliver blinked, processing the weight of the revetion. The idea that shariain information could have such catastrophisequences was uling. But after his enters with two Sns and witnessing their unfathomable powers, he was being used to the extraordinary.

  "I uand," he said slowly. "I don't want to cause any trouble for you or your people."

  The elder offered a slight nod. "I will try to expin just the basics—what won't bring harm. Even if you're not the Alpha."

  "Alpha?" Oliver repeated, the unfamiliar term hanging in the air.

  The elder hesitated before tinuing. "Imagihat, eons ago, before humans or Elves existed, there was another race. Beings older and far more powerful than any we know. They fed on flict, war, and faith."

  Oliver leaned against the wall, his attention fully captured. It felt as if the elder was weaving an epic tale, yet the gravity in his voice suggested this was no mere story.

  "However, there is a natural limit to the flicts and wars that occur," the Elf tinued. "To satiate their hunger and expand their power, these beings gathered in this gaxy. Eae seeded a new civilization, pitting them against one another."

  Oliver felt a chill run down his spine. "So they're maniputiire civilizations for their own gain," he murmured.

  The elder nodded solemnly. "Yes. But despite their immense powers, they aren't invincible. They are bound by limitations, by rules and tracts."

  It echoed what unnos had hi—an underlying order even among the omnipotent.

  "Some civilizations vanished over time, leading to the dissolution of some of these beings," the Elf said quietly. "Others found ways to escape the Game. And some believe there's a path to victory within it." His eyes met Oliver's, holding a depth of turies. "Which destiny will your civilization choose?"

  Oliver pohe question, the enormity of it pressing upon him. "So there is a way out of this endless war? A way to end the flict with the Orks?"

  "Perhaps," the elder replied. "But I ot say if what worked for the Elves will work for humans."

  "How did you escape the Game?" Oliver asked, a hint of desperation edging into his voice.

  A regretful expression crossed the elder's face. "I'm sorry, but that's a path you must discover on your own. The risk to share suowledge is too great for us."

  Disappoi settled in Oliver's chest, but he couldn't bme them. "I uand," he said, pushing himself off the tree and wing slightly. "It's just... we're searg for any way to end this."

  The elder regarded him thoughtfully.

  "You mentiohe term 'Alpha' earlier," Oliver pressed cautiously. " you tell me what that means?"

  "They are individuals with direct access to their creator Sn," the elder expined. "It could be one person or several. They are the only ones who truly uand the nature of the Game and what's at stake."

  Oliver absorbed this information, the pieces of a rger puzzle slowly falling into pce. So there were those who had a direct lio these god-like entities.

  "Thank you. Do you already know how you'll escape? Human ships are expected to arrive at any moment; it'd be better if they didn't find you," Oliver expined.

  "Are you still pnning to use that ship?" the Elf asked, pointing to the vessel that had been wrecked during the battle.

  "Uh... no, I won't be using it," Oliver replied.

  The four Elves approached the damaged ship. Once again, they exteheir hands toward it, beginning a melodic t. As they sang, the ship's hull began to shimmer, strange runes materializing and infusing into the metal. The side of the ship seemed to melt and reshape uheir touch.

  The areas that had beeroyed—the twisted metal and exposed circuitry—started to mend rapidly. The metal flowed bato pce as liquid, wires reected, and circuits realighemselves, rest the ship to its flory.

  Within moments, the vessel stood before them, pristine and whole, exactly as it had been before Oliver and the Red Ork had torn it apart.

  "Impressive," Oliver remarked, awe evident in his voice as he withe Elves' abilities.

  "Farewell, Human," the elder Elf said with a nod.

  "How I tact you?" Oliver asked the elder.

  "It's better if you don't tact us—for your safety and ours. We're already putting targets on all our heads by iing with a ra the Grand Game," the elder expined before b the ship. Seds ter, the engines hummed to life, and with a burst of light, they departed, leaving him alone in the hangar.

  "I’ll have to wait for the rescue team," Oliver muttered, leaning back against the wall. Exhaustion weighed heavily on him, but there was a sense of aplishment in having helped the Elves escape.

  Before he could rest, the crackle of his unicator pierced the silence, drawing his attention.

  "Ranger Oliver, what's your status?" The officer's voice was edged with static.

  ‘Damn it, how do I expin this?’ Oliver thought anxiously. "I—I mao escape the Red Ork. I'm injured but not in critical dition," he replied, trying to keep his voice steady.

  "Roger that. We're currently under heavy attack from Titans at Half Wall. The Mechs have been diverted to assist in the defense. Your extra will be deyed lohan expected," the officer expined.

  'Thirty minutes, huh?' Oliver recalled the earlier warning about the deyed rescue.

  "No problem," he said into the unicator. "I'll hold my position."

  Pushing himself off the wall, he dusted off his battered armor. The hangar was eerily quiet now, the silenly interrupted by the distant sounds of battle eg through the facility.

  "Maybe I help somehow," Oliver pondered aloud. His gaze drifted to the distant plumes of smoke rising over the horizon. The thought of his rades fighting without him didn't sit well.

  "Only one way to find out."

  He tapped the interfa his wrist device.

  [Activate]

  GCLopes