The Cosmic Battle: Earth's Last Crisis

Chapter 3: Crash Landing - Arrival Planet Earth

(Earth, Mt. Kampanulong)

Stranded and adrift in the endless expanse of the cosmos, with his ship on the verge of collapse, Aman couldn't help but acknowledge the possibility that this might mark the end of his life.

The series of sharp beeping sounds emanating from the Warpstorm Raider's radar increased in intensity. It detected the nearest planet capable of sustaining life.

With his weakening body, he slowly checked the radar and marked planet Earth. Left without a choice, with the invisibility activated and at a speed faster than that of light, he set the Warpstorm Raider's course for the faintly glowing blue-green orb in the distance, hoping to reach it before the ship met its demise.

. . .

The Warpstorm Raider hurtled through the vast expanse of space, its damaged hull groaning under the strain of its journey. Inside the cockpit, General Aman gritted his teeth against the pain coursing through his body, his hands trembling as he struggled to maintain control of the failing ship.

With every passing moment, the distant blue-green orb of Earth grew larger in the viewport, looming ever closer with each heartbeat. Aman's heart pounded in his chest as he fought to keep the ship steady, his mind racing with thoughts of survival and escape.

As the Warpstorm Raider descended through Earth's atmosphere, the air crackled with energy, the friction of reentry igniting a blaze of fire around the ship. Aman clenched his jaw against the searing heat, his vision blurred by the fire engulfing the cockpit.

With a bone-jarring impact, the Warpstorm Raider slammed into the rugged terrain of Mt. Kampanulong, the force of the crash sending shockwaves rippling through the surrounding landscape. Metal groaned and twisted as the ship skidded across the rocky slopes, leaving a trail of destruction in its wake.

Inside the cockpit, Aman was thrown against the control panel, his body battered and bruised by the violent impact. Pain lanced through him with every movement, but he refused to succumb to the darkness threatening to overwhelm him.

Through sheer force of will, Aman forced his eyes open, his gaze falling upon the cracked viewport through which he could see the world outside. The sight that greeted him was one of chaos and destruction, with smoke billowing from the wreckage of his ship and flames licking at the surrounding vegetation.

With a grunt of effort, Aman pushed himself upright, his muscles screaming in protest as he surveyed the wreckage of the Warpstorm Raider. The ship was a twisted mass of metal and circuitry, its once sleek hull now mangled beyond recognition.

Unconsciousness enveloping him as blood seeped from wounds across his body. His mind drifted in and out of awareness, flashes of pain piercing through the haze of his consciousness. Through the darkness, he sensed a presence drawing near, a soft voice calling out to him through the chaos.

"Hey, are you okay?" The voice was distant, muffled by the ringing in his ears and the pounding of his heart. Slowly, Aman's eyelids fluttered open, his vision blurry and unfocused.

He found himself staring into the concerned eyes of a young woman with tousled chestnut hair that cascades in loose waves around her shoulders. Her features were gentle. Her warm hazel eyes reflect a depth of empathy, and her face illuminated by the flickering flames of the wreckage. Her expression filled with worry as she reached out to him.

Aman struggled to speak, his throat dry and parched from the smoke and dust that filled the air. "I... I'm... alive," he managed to croak, his voice barely more than a hoarse whisper.

The woman nodded, relief flooding her features. "Thank God," she murmured, offering him a reassuring smile. "You took quite a tumble there. Can you move? Are you injured?"

Aman attempted to push himself upright, but a wave of dizziness washed over him, sending him sprawling back onto the scorched earth. "I... I think I'm okay," he replied weakly, his limbs trembling with the effort of movement.

The woman knelt beside him, her touch gentle as she examined his injuries. "You're lucky to be alive," she remarked, her voice tinged with awe. "I've never seen a crash like that and someone survived."

Aman managed a faint smile, despite the pain that radiated through every fiber of his being. "I've survived worse," he said, his voice laced with grim determination. "But I'm going to need help if I'm going to make it through this."

The woman nodded, her expression solemn. "My name is Aurora."

"Aurora," he repeated, "thank you, Aurora. I'm Aman. You may have just saved my life."

After their brief exchange, Aman's strength waned, and the world around him blurred as darkness closed in. He slumped back against the charred wreckage of the ship, his eyelids growing heavy as exhaustion claimed him once more.

Aurora watched with concern as Aman slipped back into unconsciousness, his breathing shallow and labored. With a heavy sigh, Aurora turned her attention to the task at hand. She knew she needed to act quickly if she was going to help Aman survive. Gathering her resolve, she set about tending to his wounds, doing her best to staunch the flow of blood and make him as comfortable as possible given the circumstances.

As she worked, Aurora's thoughts raced, her mind filled with questions about the mysterious stranger she had found amidst the wreckage of the crash. Who was he? Where had he come from? And how had he managed to survive such a catastrophic accident?

But for now, those questions would have to wait. Right now, all that mattered was helping Aman heal and regain his strength. With a silent vow, Aurora set about her task, determined to do whatever it took to ensure that he made it through the night.

With all the strength she could muster, Aurora carefully lifted Aman's unconscious form and placed him on a makeshift sled fashioned from the remnants of his damaged ship. With each step, she felt the weight of his battered body, but she refused to falter, driven by a fierce determination to get him to safety.

Slowly and steadily, Aurora began the arduous journey back to her house, the sled dragging behind her as she navigated the treacherous terrain of Mt. Kampanulong. The path was rugged and steep, but Aurora pressed on.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Aurora reached her humble abode nestled at the foot of the mountain. With a sigh of relief, she gently eased Aman's unconscious form onto a makeshift cot.

Aurora's hands trembled slightly as she surveyed Aman's still form. With a deep breath to steady her nerves, she called out to her younger brother, her voice echoing through the small house with urgency. "Pedro!" her tone was urgent. "I need your help. He's been injured."

Pedro, who had been in the next room, hurried to her side, concern etched on his face. "I'll be right there, ate" he assured her, already moving to gather supplies.

He swiftly gathered what they needed—clean water, bandages, and medicinal herbs. Aurora set to work tending to Aman's wounds, her movements careful and precise as she cleaned and dressed his injuries. Despite the gravity of the situation, she couldn't help but marvel at the resilience of the man before her, his strength evident even in his weakened state.