Legacy of the Pantheruos

Rescue...

3rd POV

Home was not a place Raptor could return to easily. His duties here on Remnant, self-imposed though they may have been, anchored him to this chaotic world far more than he would ever openly admit. Every skirmish, each grim task he undertook further entangled him in the complex web of local affairs and the planet's incessant conflicts. He was a solitary figure on a battlefield that never seemed to diminish, an outsider whose very existence influenced the ebb and flow of local power dynamics without ever truly belonging to them.

His interactions, though minimal and fraught with the tension of a man ever on the edge of departure, had begun to weave a thread of continuity through the towns and settlements he frequented. The people didn't know his name or his story, but his impact was undeniable. He was the ghost in the night, the silent guardian whose presence was felt rather than seen, a whisper of security in an otherwise tumultuous existence.

In Vale, the city that never truly slept, Raptor found himself observing from the shadows, his analytical mind cataloging each detail, every shift in the societal tapestry that he could neither embrace nor fully reject. The protests and political machinations, the petty squabbles and the deep-seated divisions were layers upon an already complex puzzle he sought to solve, not out of a desire for engagement, but to find the most effective path through—or perhaps out—of this world.

As he ventured into the wilderness yet again, leaving the clamor of Vale behind, the crisp air and the rustle of leaves brought a semblance of peace, a stark contrast to the noise of human conflict. Here, amidst the stark beauty of nature, Raptor could think, could plan. The wilderness was unforgiving, but it was honest, and honesty was a currency he valued above all else.

Each step took him further not just from Vale, but from the man he once was. The cloak he wore, battered and worn from years of conflict, was not just a physical shield but a metaphorical one, guarding the remnants of a past life he was both fleeing and searching for in every shadow and every light.

Unknown to many, his reports to the Pantheruos Military were more than mere updates; they were lifelines, tenuous connections to a part of him that felt increasingly distant with each passing day on Remnant. Yet, he continued, driven by a sense of duty that was as ingrained in his psyche as his formidable combat skills.

Tonight, as the stars peeked through the canopy of leaves, Raptor allowed himself a moment to look up at the celestial expanse. Each star a distant world, a reminder of the vastness of the universe and his small place within it. A place he was still trying to define, on a planet that was both a battlefield and a refuge.

His path was a solitary one, but it was his. And as the night deepened, Raptor, the phantom who walked between worlds, pressed onward, his footsteps a soft echo in the vast, whispering wilderness of Remnant.

More years had passed by. He had done the same things that he's done in the previous years but still had luck in getting contact and well placed hidden supply caches the Pantheruros Military left in selected areas. All he did was travel and take care of his deeds before being on the move again.

Mistral and Vale were the main kingdoms he wandered around, discovering ruins and abandoned towns, to even killing Grimm and bandits when no one else would. Atlas he barely visited but when he did, he usually stacked up quite a body count when individuals encountered him. The military had tried to capture him.

Keyword: TRIED.

Several times but each time was left with nothing but a battlefield of blood, bullet casings and shells, and countless bodies. Apparently, there was a battalion that was specialized in tracking him... only to perish every time they encountered him.