Chapter 117: View of the stars
The red warning light glowed overhead, casting hue across the spacious, metallic chamber. A low hum echoed through the walls—the final signal. It was time to prepare.
Across the room, people began to pour in. Some moved quickly with determined strides. Others dragged their feet, nervous, eyes darting between unfamiliar faces.
By the wall near the healing cylindrical pods, Alex yawned lazily, leaning against the metal.
Nearby, Edward and Mark stood together, quietly exchanging observations while scanning the room.
On the opposite side, the Rogues had gathered. Unlike the trained Rangers, these were misfits—individuals who had never wanted to be part of this fight. Many of them looked out of place, hesitant, lost. But the battlefield didn’t care what they wanted. The choice had already been made.
Tyson and his squad entered from the rear, slow and deliberate. As they crossed the floor, Tyson paused—his attention caught by a boy hunched over a guitar with quite futuristic look.
he could tell from glance the guitar was not just guitar It was Meta-bot, shaped like guitar but that boy was playing it terribly.
Strings screeched as he played but he was into it. "See? I’m a genius, right?" the Red beamed.
Rudra stood next to him, visibly cringing. He turned to Tyson with a helpless look. "Yes... Yes, you are," he muttered. "How about... not playing again? Not because I don’t like it—but because others really, really don’t."
Red scoffed, "Forget others, my friend. I will play it just for you."
Rudra was left speechless.