After discovering clues from her astray father, the first hybrid offspring joins forces with her ragtag friends, embarking on a mission to regain the planet Safforia from the dystopian regime.
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Year E3029
Ocea
A giant golden bird crowed in the distance, silencing the buzzing of the forbidden forest. I scanned the spacecraft, placing my hand on the edge of the opening of the missing door. Being one step away from discovering more about my dad's childhood, I glanced over my shoulder at Thomas. He nodded with a slight smile while I panned over to Dylan and Wyatt. Both of them waved for me to continue.
I took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. With my fingers gripping the hot metal, I pulled myself into the dark craft. There were clothes scattered on the floor with spiders living in them. The sun peeked through the small windows, showing the two small cots at the back of the ship.
Toward the front, I could make out the two pilot spots. Behind the seats sat a third foldout, broken in half. The belt ripped while tied around a helmet.
Dylan crawled to the pilot spot while Thomas and Wyatt adventured in the back. I gripped the helmet, seeing my reflection in the visor, with one eye blue and the other purple. I watched my true self smiling back at me.
Inside the helmet, bold red letters read, Doxon three hundred and ten. A smile crept over my face as I placed it over my head. A slight tap on my shoulder had me spinning around to see Thomas.
"Looking good, space girl," he said, then knocked on the top. He held up a backpack. "Check this out." He opened the bag, pointing at the name written on the inside.
"Beck Doxon," I said, removing the helmet. "Hey, this was my dad's backpack."
I grabbed the bag from him, shifting through clothes. A bag of dried space food for rabbits was at the bottom of the backpack.
As I wrapped my fingers around it, I dropped the backpack. "My dad used to have a bunny rabbit."
"Oh, yeah, he mentioned it all the time." Thomas snapped his fingers a few times. "Name, name, name," he said.
"Tyran," I said, tossing the food back into the backpack.
I stepped around Thomas, strolling to the back. Wyatt climbed onto the top cot with a red glow buzz on his head. He glanced at me quickly, then back at the shelf.
"Only old books up here," he said, grabbing one. "This one is different, though." He tossed it at me.
Catching it midair, I saw it was one of my dad's drawing books. The first page caught me off guard, causing me to sit on the lower cot. My fingers brushed over the drawing of my mother. Her smile almost faded in my memories, but was now seen so clearly.
"You looked like her when you were young, too," Wyatt said, swinging from the top cot to sit next to me.
"Yeah," I replied, flipping the page. "I used to be told I was a mirror image of her."
