The night was calm as the three stood atop a hill, overlooking the planet of Traxon. The stars twinkled in the distance, reflecting off the rippling surface of the alien seas below. The air smelled of unfamiliar flowers, the scent sweet yet foreign, something Mark would never get used to.
He stood beside his father, Nolan, who was, as always, deep in thought. Battle Beast was a little farther off, sitting against a rocky outcrop, his massive form outlined against the dark sky, his posture relaxed but alert.
Mark took a deep breath, trying to process everything. The situation had escalated quickly, and he knew they had no time to waste. The Viltrimits were ruthless, and though Traxon was far from Earth, its fate was tied to the same forces threatening his home.
"Dad," Mark began, his voice thoughtful. "What do you think is really going on with the Viltrimits? They said they were after energy reserves, but it seems like there's more to it than that."
Nolan's eyes flickered over to him, his gaze calculating. "I think we're only scratching the surface, Mark. The Viltrimits are a race built on strength and conquest, but there's more at play here. If they're going after energy reserves, it's likely because they're running out of their own. Something's changing with them."
Mark frowned. "But why this planet? Why not others with more energy? Traxon doesn't seem to have anything special about it."
Nolan's lips tightened as he crossed his arms. "Every planet serves a purpose to them, even if it's not immediately obvious. Sometimes it's not about the resources—they need control. They want to dominate, to break entire species down to make them weaker, and then strip them dry. Traxon has something they need, even if they haven't realized it yet."
Mark's thoughts churned, but before he could ask more questions, Battle Beast stood up, dusting off his worn armor. He walked over to them with his usual intensity. "Enough talking. I want to fight. I don't care about the details. I just want to crush something."
Mark shook his head slightly, trying to suppress a chuckle. "Always the same, huh?"
Nolan's stern expression softened, just a little. "He's not wrong, Mark. Sometimes words don't get the job done. But it's more than just fighting. We need a plan if we're going to make it out of this."
"I've got a plan," Battle Beast growled, "and it involves me getting to hit something."
Nolan gave him a side glance but didn't respond. Instead, he turned to Mark. "The Viltrimits won't be our biggest issue here. The more I think about it, the more I'm convinced there's something else going on. I just don't know what yet."
Mark nodded slowly. "So we just keep going, keep fighting them until we figure it out?"
Nolan's gaze hardened, and he nodded. "Pretty much. But remember, every fight is a step closer to the bigger picture. Keep your head in the game. The second we let our guard down, that's when they'll strike."
"Right," Mark said, clenching his fists. "I won't let them win. Not here, not anywhere."
They stood there in silence for a while, watching the distant glow of Traxon's capital city flicker faintly beneath the sky. The flickering lights seemed almost peaceful, but Mark knew better than to trust that. Peace was a fleeting illusion, and there was no time to rest now.
Finally, Nolan broke the silence. "It's getting late. We should head back to Earth tomorrow. If we stay here much longer, we risk drawing more attention. I'm sure the Viltrimits are already planning their next move."
Mark looked at his father, concern flashing in his eyes. "Do you think we'll have time to get back before they attack again? What if we don't get everything we need from Traxon?"
"We've done what we can here," Nolan replied. "The Traxon leaders know what they need to do, and we've given them enough to hold off any more immediate attacks. We can't stay here forever. Earth needs us, and so do the other worlds out there. If the Viltrimits get their hands on too many planets, there'll be no fighting back. We need to prepare for what's coming next."
Mark sighed, frustrated but understanding. He didn't want to leave without doing more for Traxon, but his father was right. Earth was home, and that was where they needed to be.
"Yeah, you're right," Mark said after a moment, his voice softer. "Let's go back."
Nolan nodded, giving his son a quick pat on the shoulder. "Good. Let's finish this and get back before things get worse."
As they made their way back to their temporary quarters, Battle Beast lagged behind, but his words echoed across the empty night air. "I hope there's more to fight when we get back. I don't want to waste time with weak opponents."
Mark rolled his eyes. "You're always so optimistic."
Nolan chuckled quietly to himself. "Well, at least he's consistent."
Later that evening, after a quiet dinner with the Traxon leaders, Nolan gathered his team. It was time to leave.
"Alright, we're heading back to Earth," Nolan said, standing at the entrance to their ship. "No more distractions. We've got bigger things to prepare for."
Mark, standing beside him, was silent for a moment. "You think the Viltrimits will follow us to Earth?"
"They'll try," Nolan replied, his voice steady. "But we'll be ready. They're a threat, but we've faced worse. Let's get back and regroup."
As the group made their way back to Earth, Mark could only think about what awaited them back home. The fight wasn't over, not by a long shot. But they were stronger now, more prepared, and they had each other. That meant something.
The journey to Earth was long, and the space between planets always gave Mark time to think. He couldn't help but wonder how much more of this he could handle. There were moments of doubt, but when he looked at his family—his father, Battle Beast, and all his brothers—he realized one thing: they were in this together. And that was enough to push forward, no matter the odds.
They were heading home. But the war was just beginning.