Man On The Moon

XI

FLASHBACK

In the memory, Kafka, Silver Wolf and Blade are taking a rare moment of respite in the Stellaron Hunters' base. They're in a communal lounge, the room quiet but for the soft hum of machinery. Kafka is lounging on a couch, her eyes closed, while Silver Wolf is sprawled out on a nearby chair, head buried in a game console. Blade is leaning against a wall, his expression contemplative. The peaceful scene is then interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching. The three members of the Stellaron Hunters look up to see Elio entering the room, his usual carefree smile replaced by a look of grim determination. Elio, as he steps into the room, looks at each of them in turn, his eyes linger on Kafka a moment longer. Then he speaks, his voice uncharacteristically serious.

Elio: "We need to talk."

The others exchange glances, sensing the seriousness in his tone. Kafka, pushing herself upright, motions for Elio to speak. Blade, still leaning against the wall, is the first to respond.

Blade: "What is it?"

Elio takes a deep breath, gathering his thoughts.

Elio: "I have a proposition for you. A different path."

The room falls silent, the sudden tension in the air palpable. Silver Wolf and Blade glance at Kafka, awaiting her reaction to Elio's words. Elio, his gaze moving around the room, locks eyes with Kafka before speaking.

Elio: "Yes, I am leaving the Stellaron Hunters. I've realized that my vision and goals don't align with the group anymore."

His words are calm and confident, betraying none of the unease that the others are feeling. The silence that follows his words is deafening. Silver Wolf and Blade look at each other in surprise, clearly not expecting this announcement. Kafka, however, remains stoic, her expression inscrutable. Silver Wolf, recovering from her initial shock, speaks up first.

Silver Wolf: "Wait, you're serious? You're leaving the Stellaron Hunters?"

Elio nods, a slight smile playing on his lips.

Elio: "I am serious. I have my reasons."

Blade, his usual stoicism slipping for a moment, speaks up next.

Blade: "And what are those reasons?"

Elio looks at Blade, his eyes hardening.

Elio: "I want power. Control. You know how the Stellaron Hunters operate. We're not equals. We're tools."

His words hang in the air, a stark reminder of the dynamic of the group. Kafka, silent until now, finally speaks. Her voice is calm but there's a hint of anger underneath.

Kafka: "And you think you can do better? On your own?"

Kafka, Silver Wolf and Blade exchange glances, a silent conversation passing between them. Then Silver Wolf speaks up, her tone firm.

Silver Wolf: "We're not going with you, Elio."

Blade's expression hardens, his voice as sharp as the edge of his sword.

Blade: "We're staying with the Stellaron Hunters."

Elio, hearing their denials, lets out a soft chuckle. There's a cold, almost malicious look in his eyes when he speaks.

Elio: "You're all so predictable. So loyal."

He shakes his head, dismissive of their choices. Elio's smile turns almost cruel as he continues.

Elio: "But your loyalty will be your downfall. You're stuck, bound by a sense of duty that's restricting you from your true potential."

Silver Wolf bristles at his words, her fists clenching at her sides.

Silver Wolf: "And you think your way is better? Power-hungry and selfish, that's all you'll achieve."

Blade, his sharp gaze never leaving Elio, adds,

Blade: "You talk of loyalty as if it's a weakness. But it's the reason we're strong."

Elio's smile doesn't waver. Instead, he seems slightly amused by their defiance.

Elio: "You're not strong, Blade. You're bound by your past, your regrets. And you, Silver Wolf, you're just bored. You follow Kafka because she gives you something interesting to do."

He turns his gaze to Kafka, his eyes narrowing.

Elio: "And you, Kafka. You're the worst of them all. You hide behind a facade of aloofness, but I know the truth. You're terrified of being alone."

Kafka's expression doesn't change, her face remaining a mask of cold disinterest. However, her eyes flicker, betraying a hint of the emotions his words stir within her.

Kafka: "You think you know me? You've never understood a thing about me."