Titan Rumble Ch 3: Entering The Land Of The Alphas

(CAIN)

I slumped into my seat on the airplane, folding my arms tight across my chest. The hum of the engines barely drowned out my thoughts. My face must've looked as twisted as I felt—bothered, angry. This whole thing was stupid. Leaving home, moving in with people I barely remembered, and living among Alphas, the so-called titans. It was a risk for any Omega, and yet here I was, about to risk everything. And for what?

I sighed, leaning back into the seat, staring at the backs of the other passengers' heads. My mind wandered back to the moment I said goodbye to my parents.

Mom had that same smile plastered on her face, like she always did. She wasn't worried, or at least she wasn't showing it. "Just make sure you take care of yourself," she said, all cheerful like I was just going on some summer vacation.

"I will..." I had forced a smile back at her, even though my mind was elsewhere. Mostly on the old man standing a few feet away, arms crossed, looking anywhere but at me. Typical.

I walked toward him, my fake smile fading the closer I got. "I'm leaving, old man," I said, trying to get a reaction out of him.

"I guess you are..." he finally looked at me, and for the first time in ages, he had this small, almost smug smile on his face. It was like he knew something I didn't.

I scratched the back of my head, letting out a sigh. "Well, this is what you wanted, right? For me to have my own dojo..." I said, half-joking but also a little bitter. "Well, now's your chance."

He just nodded, like he was hearing me but not really listening. Typical. Then he said, "Go, and come back a man," extending his fist toward me like it was some grand fatherly wisdom.

I couldn't help but smirk at that. "Whatever, old man," I muttered, but I still bumped his fist. It's what we always did. His way of saying goodbye without actually saying it.

The memory faded as I stared out the airplane window, the endless blue sky stretching out before me. "Stupid old man," I mumbled under my breath, watching the clouds roll by.

"Didn't you know whose dojo I wanted to inherit?" I thought, the corners of my mouth twitching into a bitter smile. Of course, he knew. He always knew. But that didn't stop him from sending me off anyway.

The plane finally touched down, the thud of the wheels jolting me in my seat. I let out a long breath, almost like I'd been holding it the whole flight. I had made it. This was the land of the Alphas—Gigantara. Just the name alone felt heavy, like it carried the weight of all the risks I was about to face. I wasn't exactly thrilled.

Grabbing my bag from the overhead compartment, I shuffled through the aisle with the other passengers. Most of them were Omegas like me, all quiet, keeping to themselves. No one was excited. No one was smiling. We all knew where we were going, and what that meant.

As soon as I stepped off the plane, the air felt different. Heavier, maybe? I couldn't tell if it was the atmosphere or just my nerves. I took a deep breath and forced myself to walk forward. The process to enter Gigantara wasn't anything special—just your typical customs routine, except everything was a little more intense. The lines were split. Omegas went through one side, Alphas the other. Security was tighter than anywhere else I'd been. They scanned us from head to toe, making sure we didn't carry anything dangerous—like we could even harm an Alpha with anything short of a nuke.

I moved through the scanners, handed over my paperwork, and finally stepped into the main terminal. That's when I saw it—the sight I had been dreading.

A massive platform stretched out before me, packed with Omegas, all corralled like cattle onto a space surrounded by metal rails. On the other side, towering above us like living skyscrapers, were the Alphas. The size difference was insane.

I mean, sure, I'd seen them before. Everyone has. But nothing could prepare you for seeing an Alpha up close like this. They were huge, and not just in the "big person" sense. I'm talking absolutely massive—each one of them easily hundreds of feet tall. Their legs alone were like buildings, and their heads... I had to crane my neck just to see their faces.

The platform shook a little as a few of us Omegas moved forward, trying to get a better look. I could feel their eyes—gigantic, massive eyes—scanning the platform, searching. Alphas were always looking for something, or someone. From up there, we probably looked like insects to them, maybe even less.

I pushed my way to the front of the platform, near the rail, squinting up at the wall of Alphas. "Where the hell is Mr. Takamura?" I muttered. It had been years since I last saw him, and I wasn't sure if I'd even recognize him. Not that it'd be easy to spot someone when they're that gigantic.

I rubbed my eyes, the exhaustion from the flight finally hitting me. "Dammit," I cursed, wiping away the tiredness, trying to refocus.

And then... I felt it. A presence. Something hovering, right over me.

I slowly opened my eyes, and there it was—a massive brown eye, taking up my entire field of vision, staring down at me. It was as big as a building, maybe bigger, so close that I could see the details of the iris, the way the light reflected off it, the tiny movements as it focused on me.

"What the..." I yelled, stumbling back.