When the Drifting Star Falls

1 - Fall (2)

Arda was given clothes to wear, because apparently, his own coat and pants weren't enough.

"I don't need them," Arda had insisted. "I'm not bothered by the cold, and I physically can't freeze to death."

"I'm not arguing with you!" Blake had replied. He shoved a bundle of clothes into Arda's arms anyway. "I just saw you heal like a hundred bones and look as healthy as if you'd never broken them in two days without any medicine, but if you don't wear them, I get in trouble, and I don't want to be on dishwashing duty. So. Wear them."

"It's none of my business whether you get in trouble or not," Arda pointed out. He was merely stating facts. "Dishwashing isn't even the worst duty."

"Oh, okay, Mr. Not-Celest, if you stick around, I'm definitely signing you up for it then!"

Arda had just shrugged, and turned to go into the bathroom to change.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"A shrug is a body language indicating-"

"Alright, forget I asked!"

And now, Arda was folding his odd mix of clothes he had floated around in for...at least a few years. They were in surprisingly good condition, even after crashing on celestial bodies seven hundred and eighty-four times, they were almost as indestructible as Arda himself. He knew from feeling it that they were made of threads and fibers of chromium and titanium-both were tough metals-mixed with the normal fabric, while being light and breathable. He didn't know why he was wearing it while floating out in space.

He placed his clothes in a bag Blake had given him, and stared at his reflection, now wearing the outfit that seemed to be the norm in Norsphere-short for Northern Hemisphere.

He knew only four things about himself. His name, his gender, his appearance, and his inability to die. His own age was a mystery. Time was meaningless in space. Ardazephni was male, with messy, fluffy hair of every natural hair color mixed in, medium skin, and had sectoral heterochromia, with black, blue, green and hazel colors. Might as well call it rainbow to keep it simple. He knew he couldn't be human with those eyes and hair. Genetically, it was almost impossible. Even if he had a mutation, it was unlikely he had such a combination of genes. Then again, what were genes when he wasn't even alive?

He couldn't die. That was another thing about himself that he knew. He didn't know why. If he had to guess, he had been alive for much longer than any human, and if he had to give a number for how many times he'd experienced an injury that should've killed him but didn't, that number was well above a thousand, including crashing into the planets.

If he couldn't die, then he surely wasn't alive either.

And what was the point of being immortal when he was seemingly coded to be drifting in space for eternity?

That reminded him, he needed to explain the Launch to the Norsphere.

His clothes were almost exactly like Blake's-it might've even come from his wardrobe-and he also found a pair of gloves, and put them on. The point of this clothing seemed to be to cover as much skin as they could, and it trapped Arda's body heat, making him feel all warm and fuzzy.

A dire planet, the ring, the clothing, and Kuratl's words could only mean a disastrous climate change that forced the humans of Zeta underground. And it sounded like Norsphere wasn't a secret organization either. Colonel suggested they were a part of something larger, so a militia or an army perhaps, or even a government. If the government was really underground, then the surface situations couldn't be anything less than catastrophic. Sector Eight Norsphere also meant that there were more people in the Norsphere, and that there were more than one group.