Chapter 1: Shadows of the Frontier

  The air was sharp and dry, filled with the metallic tang of old machinery. Eren Velare crouched low behind a rusted outcrop, his breath shallow as his eyes scanned the horizon. The barren landscape of the Frontier Sector was harsh and unforgiving, dotted with remnants of long-abandoned mining rigs and forgotten settlements. Here, life clung to survival like moss to stone.

  This isn’t how I thought today would go, Eren thought, tightening his grip on the crude blade in his hand. It wasn’t much, a scavenged piece of scrap metal hammered into something vaguely sharp, but it was better than nothing.

  A low hum filled the air, growing louder. Eren’s heartbeat quickened as a shadow moved across the ground. He didn’t need to look up to know what it was, another patrol drone. These machines were old, relics from a war no one remembered, but they still did their job well enough: hunting anything that didn’t belong.

  Just stay quiet, he told himself. Don’t move. Don’t breathe.

  The drone hovered closer, its spherical body humming with energy as a single red sensor scanned the ground. The air around it shimmered faintly, a sign of the small energy field it used to repel dust and debris. Eren’s fingers tightened around his blade. He didn’t dare make a sound.

  The hum passed overhead, and Eren exhaled slowly. He had avoided detection, but barely. The Frontier was crawling with these things lately, more than usual. It was as if someone, or something, was driving them to patrol further out.

  He wiped the sweat from his brow and adjusted the strap of the tattered pack on his shoulder. It wasn’t much better than his weapon, held together with fraying threads and desperation, but inside it were the few scraps of food and parts he’d scavenged from the ruins earlier that day. Losing it wasn’t an option.

  Just a little further. Get back to the outpost, and you’re safe.

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  Eren pushed himself to his feet, careful to stay crouched low as he moved. The horizon ahead was a dull, reddish blur, the setting sun casting long shadows across the cracked earth. Far off, the faint outline of his home, if it could even be called that, came into view: a cluster of prefab shelters, surrounded by a flimsy wall of scrap metal. It wasn’t much, but for orphans like him, it was the only place to call home.

  The thought of safety spurred him on, but as he reached the ridge overlooking the outpost, his stomach sank. Smoke. Thick and black, curling into the sky from the direction of the shelters.

  ?No!“

  Eren broke into a run, his legs burning as he stumbled down the slope. His breath came in ragged gasps, but he didn’t stop. The pack bounced against his back, the blade clutched tightly in his hand. Please, let it just be a fire in the scrap heap, he prayed. Please, let everyone be okay.

  But as he drew closer, the truth became impossible to ignore. The wall of scrap was torn open, jagged edges glinting in the fading light. The smoke came from one of the larger shelters, now reduced to a smoldering ruin. Figures moved through the wreckage, some familiar, others not.

  Sentinels.

  The machines were unlike the aging patrol drones Eren had evaded earlier. These were humanoid, their sleek, metal frames reflecting the firelight as they methodically combed through the outpost. Their movements were precise, almost eerie in their efficiency. One of them stopped, its head swiveling in Eren’s direction. A red sensor flickered to life.

  Eren froze. His mind screamed at him to run, but his legs wouldn’t obey. He was rooted to the spot as the Sentinel’s sensor locked onto him.

  ?Target identified“, it droned, its voice hollow and mechanical.

  The sound snapped him back into motion. He turned and bolted, his heart hammering in his chest. Behind him, the Sentinel moved, its footsteps unnervingly steady. He could hear the hum of its energy field, growing louder with every step.

  This can’t be happening, he thought. Not now. Not here.

  He reached the edge of the outpost, ducking behind a pile of debris. His mind raced, searching for a plan. The blade in his hand felt laughably inadequate against a machine like that, but it was all he had. His breathing was ragged, his muscles burning from exertion.

  The Sentinel rounded the corner, its red sensor glowing like a malevolent eye. It paused for a moment, as if assessing him, then raised one of its arms. A faint hum filled the air as an energy weapon powered up.

  Eren’s grip on the blade tightened. If he was going down, he wasn’t going down without a fight.

  But before the Sentinel could fire, a deafening roar split the air. A shockwave tore through the debris, sending Eren sprawling. When he scrambled to his feet, his ears ringing, he saw the Sentinel lying in a smoking heap, its torso blown apart.

  ?Get up!“ A voice shouted.

  Eren turned to see a figure approaching through the smoke. Tall, broad-shouldered, and carrying a weapon that looked far too advanced for this part of the Frontier, the man looked like he didn’t belong here. His expression was hard, his voice commanding.

  ?Move, kid, unless you want to die.“

  Eren didn’t need to be told twice. He grabbed his pack and followed the man, his mind racing with questions. Who was this stranger? And why was he here?

  The only thing Eren knew for sure was that his life in the Frontier would never be the same.