Welcome to Gaia! ::

Since the Calamitous Hallow’s imprisonment and the meeting with the Vanguard that followed, Cypher had returned to his former ways of isolating himself in his workshop; drafting new concepts to add to the training ground and piecing together structures as materials arrived.

Although the thought of changing gears and building drones that could help him construct the things he wanted to incorporate was tempting. That movie Star Wars had given him ideas but he wasn’t sure how much of that was a reality he could achieve. Then there were the hexbots in Avatar that were used to build cities on Pandora.

Applicable and yet… “Human imagination far exceeds their capabilities to achieve that level of advancement.”

But perhaps if something like that could be built, it may be something that could be useful to their people back on Velencya. “It’d all be for naught if the Calamitous Hallow were to escape.” Earth was only barely saved, and if the creature were to turn its gaze on their home, what hope would they have to save their people when the shields and satellites were barely enough?

It wasn’t until the ink from his pen had bled into the velum, leaving a large spot of black on his architectural plans, that Cypher realized how lost in thought he had been. It was midday when he started, but when he looked up, the sun was already beginning to set.

Solitude offered him no favors.

He knew that, and yet he slipped so easily into the same routine. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be around the other members of the Vanguard, it was just that he came to Earth with a specific skill set and no way to utilize it. His purpose was to be a sentry, to guard the researchers as they gathered samples in hostile environments. But there was no need for that here. In fact weapons in populated areas were frowned upon or illegal depending on type; his rifle was definitely not allowed in the open, as was walking around while not in glamour.

The Negaverse was a whole other beast he’d just rather avoid.

“I do not anticipate any more progress will be made today…” With a resigned sigh, he put his pen away and scrapped the sketch, crumpling it up into a ball, he tossed it in the wire bin beside his desk before turning his attention to his ComTech. Like some of the students he attended classes with, he scrolled through it like they did with apps on their phones. Cypher didn’t know what he was looking for, but as he came swiped through his contacts he paused, finger hovering above Commander Andreiya’s name.

He hesitated, but only for a moment before beginning to type a message…



Cypher stared at the question, brows furrowed and lips pursed at how overly formal that sounded and deleted it to try again.



That sounded at least a bit more friendly, but it sounded urgent, which this was anything but. All Cypher wanted was perhaps a simple conversation that hopefully wouldn’t end in an argument or fists thrown at his face.

Once more he deleted the message and tried again.



Before he could mull over his message for a third time, he hit send and flipped the ComTech over so the screen was flat on the table and leaned back in his chair. Arms stretched above his head he heard his back crack in an almost startling way; a clear indication his bad posture was something that needed to be corrected.

“I apologize if my wording implied urgency or distress. It was not my intention to give you reason to worry,” Cypher’s tone remained even and calm to emphasize that his request was by no means an emergency. “I’ve simply found that reflection without discussion has its limits, and the solitude I sought has made my thoughts perhaps a bit louder than they ought to be.”

“What I look for is your perspective, Andreiya. I trust your judgment, and I think I’ve been circling the same concerns without progress.” Enough that they had been weighing on him more with each passing day. “I’ve been questioning what our next step should look like, not just as a whole, but personally.” His chest tightened at hearing himself admit he not just wanted guidance but needed it, a foreign feeling that he was unsure how to process, so he didn’t and moved on with the conversation.

“I will meet you at your greenhouse. It’ll take me time to get there, but I would rather speak face to face.” While food was the furthest from his mind, tasting something Andreiya had worked hard to grow sounded like something his body needed. Destiny City and its processed foods and additives often made him crave something fresh and organic.

“Understood,” Cypher replied. “I will depart now and will arrive as soon as I am able.” The call was then ended as requested.

He moved with deliberate efficiency, making sure the blueprints and site plans were stacked in precise order and that all surfaces in the studio were cleared and windows secured before shutting off the overhead light that hung above his drafting table. When he was satisfied that everything was in its proper place, he locked the door behind him and stepped into the night.

The walk to Andreiya’s greenhouse was quiet and thankfully uneventful. However, when he arrived, Cypher noted the fireflies that his comrade had mentioned. There were more than he had anticipated, and many displayed unusual hues outside their normal bioluminescent range. One pulsed with a faint green light, another purple, while another glowed a bright cyan.

He paused briefly to observe their movements and rhythmic pulses, mentally noting the potential cause for color shifts related to the frequency of each blinking light.

Per instruction, he stepped inside the greenhouse and closed the door securely behind him, ensuring non of the insects followed. The warmth and humidity were a sharp contrast to the cool air outside or the regulated environment of his studio. It smelled of damp soil, organic and alive compared to the chemically infused citrus dust spray and bleach wipes used to clean counters and floors.

Cypher moved through the space with quiet purpose, tracking the sound of movement as he had been trained prior to their arrival on Earth.

Upon reaching the rear of the greenhouse, he stopped. “I’ve arrived,” he said. “Apologies for the time it took. The fireflies slowed my progress, but only slightly.” Cypher paused before adding, “Thank you for making time.” Gratitude did not necessarily come easily to him, but he was at least making an effort to express it.