The café never regained its peace. The blaring warnings on the holo-screen continued, the cold mechanical voice repeating:

  

  "Alert! Unidentified vessels detected near Arun colony. Citizens are advised to seek shelter in the nearest bunker immediately."

  Panic spread like wildfire. The usual calm atmosphere had vanished, replaced by frantic movement and fearful whispers. Varen barely registered his own breath as reality crashed down on him. War had come—and there was no way back.

  "Varen, come on... snap out of it!"

  Anara’s voice was strained, her fingers digging into his shoulders. Her eyes, wide with fear, searched his. "Please... I can’t lose you too."

  Varen’s heart pounded. The war had begun, and they were part of it. But this wasn’t how he had imagined it. It wasn’t glory. It wasn’t adventure. It was chaos, destruction, and death.

  "I... I don’t know what to do," he admitted, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

  Anara shook him harder. "Then follow me! We have to go—now!"

  The café erupted into chaos. Chairs overturned. Dishes shattered. Frantic shouts filled the air. But to Varen, it all felt like the calm before the storm. His pulse steadied, his breath evening out.

  For the first time since the alarms blared, he knew what he had to do.

  He had to protect his family.

  Varen’s breath remained ragged, his hands trembling. He wasn’t ready for this. The heroic stories he had heard—the dreams of battle—felt like cruel jokes now.

  "We need to move," he finally said, voice strained but firm. Survival had to come first.

  He grabbed Anara’s hand, pulling her forward. The café was unrecognizable—people shoved past each other, tables lay overturned, terrified screams overlapped.

  "Stay close," he ordered, tightening his grip. "We need to find our families and get the hell out of here."

  The holo-screen flickered again. The message changed.

  

  "Martial law is now in effect. Citizens are required to proceed to designated shelters immediately."

  Outside, the sky erupted in flashes as the colony’s defense batteries roared to life. Explosions painted the heavens as wave after wave of enemy ships fell. But for every vessel destroyed, more emerged—an unrelenting, endless storm.

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  They were being overwhelmed.

  Varen pushed forward, dragging Anara through the panicked streets. Corpses littered the ground, trampled beneath the fleeing masses. Smoke and dust choked the air, turning the once-thriving colony into a war zone.

  The military had deployed—but it wasn’t enough. Order had collapsed.

  Gunfire cracked in the distance—then closer. The pirates had landed.

  But Arun was not surrendering. Across the city, soldiers stood their ground, rifles raised, desperately fighting to reclaim their home.

  The battle for Arun had begun.

  "We’re almost there," Varen panted as they weaved through the chaos, dodging overturned stalls and abandoned vehicles.

  A deafening explosion shook the streets. A skyscraper crumbled, crashing down onto a crowd. The ground trembled beneath them.

  Soldiers rushed past, barking orders. Behind them, civilians cowered in alleyways, their faces twisted with terror.

  Varen and Anara’s home was just ahead—but the streets weren’t safe.

  A squad of soldiers clashed with pirates just a few blocks away.

  Anara gasped. "Varen, we can’t go that way!"

  He scanned the streets, his mind racing. There was no other option—he had to get to his family.

  Varen turned to Anara, determination hardening his expression. "This is our only chance. Stay with the soldiers—I’ll find your family."

  Her eyes widened in fear. "No! I can’t just leave you—"

  "You have to," he insisted, gripping her shoulders. "I need to know you’re safe."

  Tears welled in her eyes, but after a moment of hesitation, she nodded. She reached into her pocket and pressed a small trinket into his palm—a simple charm, worn with age.

  "Promise me," she whispered. "Promise me you’ll come back."

  Varen clenched the trinket tightly, feeling its warmth. A silent oath.

  "I promise."

  With one last glance, they parted—Anara disappearing into the retreating soldiers while Varen turned toward the chaos.

  He took a deep breath.

  Then he ran toward the fire.

  A soldier thrust a rifle into his hands, its metal cool against his skin.

  "If you’re staying, grab a rifle!"

  Varen gripped the weapon—a simple XM-47 laser rifle—and exhaled.

  The time for hesitation was over.

  A flash of light.

  The pirate fired.

  Something was wrong. Time bent.

  The chaos around him slowed—no, stopped.

  The laser bolt drifted toward him, inch by inch. The air shimmered from its heat. Every movement, every detail was clear—like pieces of a puzzle waiting to be solved.

  Instinct took over.

  Varen moved. A twist of his body—just enough. The bolt sizzled past, close enough to feel the burn.

  His hands acted on their own. The rifle roared to life.

  A single shot.

  The pirate barely had time to react. The blast struck dead center, sending him crashing to the ground.

  Then—like a snapped rubber band—time surged forward.

  The battlefield roared back to life. Gunfire. Screams. The scent of burning metal. Reality crashed down on Varen all at once.

  His chest heaved. His pulse hammered. His mind raced.

  "What the hell was that?!" a soldier yelled, staring at him.

  Varen looked at the fallen pirate, then down at his own hands.

  His fingers still tingled.

  "I... saw it before it happened." His voice was uncertain, but beneath it was something else—realization.

  "Everything slowed down. It was like... I just knew where to move."

  His fists clenched.

  This wasn’t luck.

  Something had changed.

  Hey everyone! Thanks for reading the second chapter—I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it!