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
I held my arm with my palm, crouching under a window. My mom ran into the house with Fin, checking for more medical supplies. The bush before me shook as a beetle bug ran by us on the street. A group of safforians chased after it with their fire.
Wyatt ducked lower until they disappeared. He pivoted on his heels, placing his backpack on his shoulders. His eyes met Stopper's before glancing at me.
"I'm going to go in and help them," Wyatt said, crawling out from the bush. "They are taking too long."
I squeezed my arm tighter as Stopper placed his hand over mine. I glanced from the prickly bush to his green eyes. He smiled as soon as he noticed me watching.
Stopper's smile fell to a sad expression. "Hey, I wanted to say sorry," he whispered, scooting closer while his hand pooled with my blood.
I looked away from him, watching my feet. "For what?"
"The Savior group I was with when we first met." He shifted on his feet, sitting to be comfortable.
I mirrored him, crisscrossing my legs with my rear on the ground. The brick house behind us cooled our backs as we leaned against it. He kept his hand cupped over mine, with his fingers curling around my wound.
He huffed, peeking over the bush, then glanced back at me. "I left that outpost as soon as possible," he said. "They didn't handle any of this correctly, letting you ride off on that beetle. Chester—" Stopper froze for a split second, then smiled when a sunhover flew by. "That group always pisses him off."
I gave him an uneasy smile as the pain warmed in my arm. He crouched away, lifting my hand from my bleeding arm. He pulled the gauze away slightly, watching more blood pool up in the white material.
Stopper shook his head. "Something isn't right."
Confused, I glared at him. "Yeah, stabbed with glass." I pointed at my arm with a sarcastic facial expression.
Stopper rolled his eyes. "No, the bleeding should have stopped by now."
My eyes widened, glancing at the blood dripping down my arm. "What if it hit an artery?"
Stopper tilted his head, unwrapping the gauze around my skin. "No, you would have lost more."
Warmth filled my arm as he lifted the last blood-filled patch. The red blood dripped down my arm into the violet dirt below us. Stopper leaned closer to my injury, bringing his backpack next to him.
"I see," he said, squinting at the wound.
Stopper pulled a set of glasses from his bag and placed them on his face. Human-invented glasses only told me one thing. This young kid was from the poor part of town. His emerald eyes glanced at me, then pointed at his glasses.
