For half a second, my heart jumps into my throat.
Is this it?
I bolt upright, eyes locked on the glowing screen on my wrist.
[COSMIC ENERGY LEVELS: NORMAL]
No spikes. No warnings.
Just the same stable green bar.
I exhale, flopping back onto my futon.
False alarm. Again.
Six months of waiting, and still—nothing. No Harbingers. No sign of Akunon. Just silence.
But it won’t last.
And when the next one comes…
I don’t know if I’ll be ready.
I make myself breakfast—instant noodles and canned coffee. Not exactly cosmic warrior fuel, but whatever.
I get dressed. Pull on a hoodie.
And then—
I check my phone.
#YuriSighting is still trending.
Great.
I scroll through the latest posts.
- A blurry photo of me walking near the train station. ("Saw Yuri today! Do you think he knows when the next alien is coming??")
- A news headline about some politician debating what to do with me. ("Should Yuri Takahashi be under stricter government watch? Experts weigh in.")
- An actual fan page dedicated to me. ("Our Cosmic Guardian! Thank you, Yuri! We believe in you!")
I close the app with a sigh.
Every day, it’s the same.
I can’t go anywhere without people watching.
Half the world treats me like a messiah. The other half treats me like a walking disaster.
And me?
I just want to get through the day without someone shoving a phone in my face.
New Tokyo is alive in the way only a city can be.
Neon lights. Massive holographic billboards. Trains weaving through the skyline like veins through a body.
I shove my hands in my pockets and keep my head down.
I pass a street vendor, who barely glances at me as he flips takoyaki on the grill. The smell makes my stomach rumble.
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
I pass a school group, kids whispering and pointing at me.
I ignore them.
Then—
I hear a news broadcast playing on a nearby storefront TV.
“Six months since the Noctis attack, and Japan remains on high alert…”
I pause.
The screen shows footage from the fight.
Me, getting thrown through a wall.
Me, failing to transform.
Me, barely surviving.
“Government officials continue to debate the best course of action regarding Yuri Takahashi, the so-called ‘Cosmic Monster.’ Some believe he is our best defense against future threats, while others argue that he is the reason they will come at all…”
I feel my jaw tighten.
The reason they will come at all.
Like I asked for this.
I shake it off and keep walking.
When I get back to my apartment, someone is waiting for me.
A woman in a black suit leans against my doorframe, arms crossed.
She’s tall, sharp-looking, with government written all over her.
She sees me and smiles.
Not the good kind. The polite but vaguely threatening kind.
“Mr. Takahashi,” she says smoothly. “May I have a moment?”
I stare at her. “No thanks.”
I try to push past her, but she blocks the door.
“I insist.”
I sigh. “Look, if you want an autograph—”
“I’m here on behalf of the Global Security Council.”
That gets my attention.
“…Okay?”
She tilts her head. “I just came to remind you that your existence is a matter of international concern.”
I blink. “Uh, thanks? I kind of noticed.”
She smirks. “Then you should also notice that the world is losing patience. Six months of silence, and many believe the next attack is inevitable. They want answers. They want assurances.”
I fold my arms. “And what, exactly, do they want from me?”
Her gaze flicks to my wristband. “They want to know if you’re controllable.”
There it is.
The real reason she’s here.
I force a grin. “Lady, I barely know if I’m controllable.”
She doesn’t laugh. “That’s what worries them.”
For a moment, neither of us speaks.
Then she hands me a business card.
“If you ever feel like cooperating,” she says, “give me a call.”
She walks away without looking back.
I stare at the card.
Naomi Kanzaki. Global Security Council Liaison.
I crumple it and toss it into my apartment.
“You’re late.”
Dr. Lynn crosses her arms as I jog into the underground training facility.
I lean against my knees, catching my breath. “Yeah, yeah. What else is new?”
She tosses me a combat baton.
“Again.”
I groan. “Can’t we do, like, cosmic energy meditation or something?”
She lunges at me.
I barely block in time.
The impact rattles my bones, but I hold my ground.
Dr. Lynn moves fast. Faster than most humans. Faster than me.
I counter with a quick strike—she dodges, twists, and knocks my legs out from under me.
I hit the ground hard.
She stands over me, unimpressed.
“If you ever face another Harbinger,” she says, “you won’t be able to rely on just your cosmic powers.”
I glare up at her. “Yeah, well, that’s great, except my powers aren’t exactly cooperating lately.”
She offers a hand. I take it.
She pulls me up effortlessly.
I rub my wrist, frowning. “You ever gonna tell me where you learned to fight like that?”
A rare smirk crosses her lips. “Maybe.”
I blink.
And suddenly, I’m hyper aware of how close we are.
She’s still holding my wrist.
For a second, I swear my heartbeat spikes.
I quickly pull away.
Dr. Lynn doesn’t seem to notice.
Or maybe she does, and just doesn’t care.
“Again,” she says, readying her stance.
I sigh.
Yeah. I’m so screwed.
By the time I get home, the city lights have taken over the sky.
I collapse onto my futon, staring at the ceiling.
The wristband glows softly.
No spikes. No warnings.
Nothing.
I should be relieved.
I’m not.
Because deep down, I know the truth.
This is temporary.
Noctis was the first.
And somewhere, out there, another Harbinger is waiting.
Waiting for the right moment.
Waiting for me to let my guard down.
I close my eyes.
Tomorrow will be just another day.
For now.
But I can feel it—
The storm is coming.
TO BE CONTINUED…