It had always been Ajax's lifelong dream to reach the stars and become a Guardian. Ever since he was a child at his mother’s side, gazing up at the sky, it was all he had ever wanted. Now, with the key floating in his hand that should have unlocked every door to his future, he couldn’t help but feel a deep, simmering resentment.

The dim Chrono Driver was a silent reminder of his failure. Worst of all, Amalthea—one of the legendary Star Guardians he had idolized—refused to even acknowledge him.

“IMMA CRUSH YOU!” Polyphem bellowed, hauling a boulder at Amalthea. A gust of wind and debris blasted in every direction where the boulder hit. Polyphem was already celebrating his premature victory.

“I recommend keeping your shoulder lower,” commented Amalthea, standing several meters to his right. 

Polyphem blinked in confusion and scanned between Amalthea’s previous and current position. The kids were equally baffled, unable to grasp how she evaded his attack.

All except Ajax, who noticed the faint shimmer of stardust that replaced Amalthea’s form whenever she evaded Polyphem’s attacks.

“Spatial Displacement? Teleportation?” wondered Ajax. “But how? Magic? A skill?” 

Polyphem swapped the area with his foot, attacking her in a wide arc, but she simply reappeared on his shoulder. “Smart,” she said, genuinely impressed, “but not smart enough.”

Gazing upon her, fear crept into Polyphem’s eye. Amalthea’s face seemed to ripple in and out of reality, like waves distorting his vision as her true form unrevealed. 

In a desperate move, Polyphem punched his own shoulder and dislocated it, but she had vanished again. She reappeared in midair, hovering just before him. Her left hand, now a radiant red, pulsed with energy. The light intensified and dispelled the shadows in the dark forest.

“I’d hate to escalate this,” Amalthea said solemnly, her tone full of otherworldly dominance. “Let’s end this.” 

Grasping the light, Amalthea’s arm transformed. Part of a red and black suit encased her arm in armour plates and a star symbol on her biceps. The inner shape was a circular design with interwoven, curved lines forming an intricate, symmetrical pattern of overlapping loops. 

“The world,” thought Ajax. 

The following impact dented Polyphem’s massive corpus, crushing half of his ribs with a sickening crunch. The force sent the Cyclops hurtling backwards, crashing through the lines of dead trees, leaving splintered wood in his wake. 

The Boss Monster of the Dark Mutton Forest lay there, thoroughly defeated, unable to move as the forest grew still once again.

Ungracefully, Amalthea hit the ground. She barely managed landing on her feet and leaned heavily on her cane. Her breathing was ragged, each inhale laboured as she struggled to maintain her composure in front of the kids. 

“You’ve chosen your path,” she rasped, her tawny face pallid with cold sweat. “Follow me.”

The sheep cleared the path for them and trembled in fear. Mega Ewe bounced away first, taking with her the flocks of sheep to retreat somewhere safe. A clearing opened before them, the inner sanctum of the dark forest where rarely anyone went. 

With a pained groan, Amalthea slumped onto a nearby stone. She tried to hide her arm, but it trembled uncontrollably behind the gauze. 

“You did well, kids,” her voice strained. 

Ajax was unsure if he was being included in the praise or not. He kept his distance, standing at the shadowy edges of the dark forest. 

“You said I wasn't a Star Guardian, didn’t you?” asked Amalthea, removing her earrings. 

The kids stared wide-eyed as Amalthea’s form was unrevealed in the sunlight. Freckles resembling distant stars that shimmered with an ethereal glow covered her deep, dark purple skin. Small scars streaked across her body like swirling galaxies etched into amethyst. Dark, gunmetal hair cascaded around her, shifting as though alive, framing her in celestial majesty. 

Amalthea regarded the children with quiet expectations. Her very presence was as radiating as the unknown night sky they slept under.

“You're not wrong, you know?” her laugh strained. “I was one. The Red Titan of Titan Force, Atlas the Enduring.” She paused, her voice lowering as the weight of her words hung in the air. "Now, I am alone."

Amalthea bit her lip and jabbed her cane on the ground, sending out a wave that stopped the rustling of trees. Her maroon eyes locked onto the children with an intensity that made the air feel heavy, filled with expectations far too immense for any child to bear. Yet, there they were—expectations no adult had ever dared place upon them before.

No parent. No teacher. Or anyone else ever could. Amalthea was looking at them.

“I'm all alone and need your help. Titan Force, my team, is gone… for good.” Ajax noticed the slight tremble in her voice, but she quickly composed herself, her face hardening with determination. “I need a new team. A new generation of Guardians. There's an evil out there I cannot stop alone.”

“Can't stop it alone?” Lydia wondered. “You stopped a Cyclops! No hero could manage that alone.”

“What help would we be?” Marius inquired hesitantly.

Amalthea produced another Chrono Device, this one with three interlocking discs hovering listlessly around a central gem. A red spark glowed within, but otherwise, it seemed dim and almost lifeless. 

“Just like mine,” thought Ajax, balling his fist.

Amalthea continued, “Atlas, the Titan of Strength and Endurance, bears the weight of the world on his shoulders. Similarly, I will shoulder this burden and carry you forward to honour my fallen teammates. I cannot afford to fail, and I will not fail.”

“You’ll train us all?” Ajax asked, disquieted. “Will I be a part of rebuilding your team and reaching the stars? …Can I be a part of it?”

The kids looked to Amalthea for answers. Their apprehension was palpable. She met their gaze with a determined yet stern demeanour.

“No,” she declared firmly. “I'm sorry, child, but you're not fit to become a Guardian.”

‧. .ᯓ★. .‧

“Reach out for the stars, son,” echoed the distant memory of Ajax’s father. “Seek adventure beyond your limits,” his father’s voice continued to resonate in his mind. “Become a Guardian and protect those undermined by forces beyond control.”

Something inside Ajax shattered as Amalthea dismissed his dream. 

Driven by his father’s words, Ajax fled into the forest, dodging the eves and plunging deeper into the darkness. Hidden under the deep canopy of dead trees, Ajax gazed upwards. 

There was no star in sight.

“You are not born to wither away in one place alone.”

Ajax sobbed. “I failed you, Dad.” His black hair obscured the tears from reaching the sky. “Where are you now? Why did you leave me here? I'm sorry for being a lousy son.”

Dejected and heartbroken, Ajax noticed a faint light piercing the canopy, making its way toward to the mountainside. It saw a single shooting star—like the one when Amalthea appeared shortly after. 

A burning blue comet streaked the atmosphere, trailing a brilliant white light that cut through the darkness and illuminated the dark sky.

“Another comet?” he wondered aloud, wiping the tears from his face. “Or a sign?”

Ajax leapt from tree to tree, barely disturbing the leaves as he strode weightlessly through the air. The forest slept. Ajax dropped to the ground to sprint and follow the already-vanished star.

Its trajectory led him to the mountains where the last one fell. Amalthea had appeared right after the last comet. And where she landed, there must also be a starcraft, figured Ajax, containing something that could help him.

“Something to prove myself to her,” he thought, more motivated than ever. 

Daybreak came, and Ajax wearily scaled the jagged mountains. “I'm a forest elf, damn it, not a dwarf or halfling or a goat,” he muttered to himself.

Ajax struggled, straining his muscles to climb higher, eventually collapsing onto a narrow path. He lay there, trying to catch his breath. Exhaustion and sleep deprivation began to take their toll. 

Then, the memories of rejection resurfaced.

“You're not fit to become a guardian.”

Ajax grit his teeth again and covered his eyes. “I won't let you dictate what I can or can not be!” he shouted into the mountain, rising to his feet. “I'll become a guardian! I'll reach the stars! Just you wait… just you wait— OWAAAA!”

The cliffsides shuddered and broke off. Ajax's usually nimble feet lost his balance. He rolled out of the way as a chasm beneath him opened, revealing a metal craft stuck underneath. 

“Is that?” Curiosity sparked within him. Ajax carefully made his way down the slope. Below, buried between rocks and debris, he uncovered parts of a ruined, red spacecraft. His hand brushed away the soot, revealing charred inscriptions. “The Titan Atlas. Holder of Burdens. Encumbered to hold up the world. His strength never wavers.”

Ajax averted his eyes. “The last thing I want is to remember her.”

Pushing himself away, Ajax accidentally pushed a button. The craft shuddered and screeched to try to open a metallic door. 

The inside was dark and dusty. Wires hung from the charred, cold walls. Ajax sat down in the cockpit, feeling an overwhelming sense of weight. The craft stuttered to life briefly, and a broken screen flickered on, momentarily blinding Ajax. 

“Hello, Amalthea,” the man on the screen said. Ajax opened his eyes in surprise, gazing at the record of Valerian, the Blue Titan Hyperion. His tousled white hair and piercing red eyes captivated Ajax, and he leaned forward in fascination.  “If you see this, we're possibly all dead.”

Something hit Ajax deep in his gut, and he leaned back. Valerian's voice was relaxed but sad, like a man who accepted death. 

“If you see this and survived, then colour me as the luckiest man in the galaxy.” Valerian laughed gently, revealing his pearl-white teeth and a dimple on his cheek. Ajax felt like he was talking to Valerian face to face, making him blush with emotion. “Your path was always the hardest, Thea, even in our early days. I wish to support you and stay by your side, but I guess this is our goodbye.”

A compartment on Ajax's right hissed open. Cold white steam curled out, unveiling a smooth, obsidian cube.

“You're a stubborn woman, Thea,” Valerian sighed wistfully. “But the most hardworking and strongest woman I’ve ever loved. You were my soulmate, my best friend. It pains me to see us part.” He brushed a lock of his pale hair back and activated his helmet to hide his tears. “I uploaded some advice into the Black Box,” his voice trembled with strain. “Use it to rebuild the team. I believe in you, Thea… May Hyperion’s light guide you.”

As the screen went dark, Ajax felt a profound sense of regret. He watched something deeply that wasn’t meant for him. Taking the cube into his hand, it felt like lead in his hand. 

“What am I supposed to do with it?” Ajax left the spacecraft and plopped himself down the road. He needed to return the smooth, alien box to Amalthea, but he couldn't shake off his animosity toward her. “Why should I? She rejected me.”

Ajax tightened his grip on the box. “Should I just destroy it? Should I destroy that Guardian?” 

“I believe in you.” Valerian’s bright voice in his head stirred Ajax away from the darkness consuming his mind. “May Hyperion’s light guide you.”

“What was that?” Ajax pulled at his hair. “Did I just really think that? Did I— No, no, I must be tired. Just… tired.” He inspected the black box again and remembered the destroyed craft, Amalthea’s state, her words, and then Valerian’s words. Ajax swallowed down his emotions. “I better return this to her.” 

“Return what?”