Planet Ignis | Chapter 7

...as I approach the end of my life, the truth that speaks most deeply to me is the Seventh: “Once the fire is out, what is forged remains.”

It’s no accident that this truth is often recited during Terminations. These words will be in my heart as I die. Of all the truths, this one most powerfully strengthens our motivation.

To make it even more relatable, I propose a slight rephrasing: “Once my fire is out, what I forged remains.” Putting it in the first person should bring greater meaning to those who recite it.

Additionally, I suggest moving this truth from seventh to ninth place for the following reasons...

From “A Proposal for the Review of the Nine Truths” by Trother, the Wise

The class should have been starting by now, but Trother needed to be here to see this. He had sent one of his Batteries ahead to relay the chess rules to the children. Just weeks ago, he had enjoyed Sylar and Sywel’s company; now, he stood ready to see them off as they prepared to make their final sacrifice.

They had chosen to Terminate together, as couples often did. When asked where she wished to give her last flames, Sywel had told Sylar that she wanted to offer them to the Hearth. “Our twins are in the Nexus,” she had said, “and this way, I can feel close to them in my final moments.” Sylar had agreed, as always, with a gentle nod.

Now both stood by the Hearth, gripping the metal bars that would transmit the electricity and heat of their bodies into the tribe’s batteries. In front of them, Trother stood ready, his voice steady but his heart heavy. Sylar had asked him to perform their Termination rites.

“Sylar, the Giant! Sywel, the Gentle! We of the Fahrenheit salute you,” Trother intoned, his voice carrying to all who stood solemnly by, witnesses to the couple’s last gift.

“A flame spread is never dead,” chanted Sylar and Sywel together.

Trother focused on them but spoke loudly enough for all to hear. “This is your last step in a life of service. As others have been burnt and spent, so have you for those who will follow. Truth!”

“I burn my warmth for the greater heat!” they responded, their voices steady.

Trother stepped closer to Sywel. “Sywel, speak your truth.”

“Once my fire is out, what I forged remains,” she replied with a soft smile.

“What have you forged, Sywel the Gentle?” Trother asked, his own voice threatening to break.

“My children. My love. My tribe.” She looked peaceful, almost serene.

Trother nodded, swallowing hard, feeling a swell of pride and sorrow. The tears he had fought to hold back gathered again, pressing against his resolve.

He turned to Sylar. “Sylar, speak your truth.”

“Fiercer the fire of love in my heart, than in my fist.”

Trother felt a surge of surprise. Most recited the Ninth Truth during Termination, but Sylar had chosen something different.

“What have you loved, Sylar the Giant?”

Sylar’s gaze was steady as he answered. “My wife. My children. My friends. My tribe.” He paused, then added quietly, “My teacher.”

Trother felt a tear slide down his cheek. He had taught both of them, watched them grow up, fall in love, and now, he was here to see them die. His heart ached, yet he was filled with a profound respect for their courage.

“May you forge and love once more. We thank you for your flames.” Trother bowed low, and all others in attendance followed, honoring their sacrifice.

Trother then stepped back to join the others, watching in reverent silence as Sylar and Sywel gave their final gift to the Hearth, their flames now forever part of the tribe they had loved so dearly.

*

Elsewhere on the planet, deep underground, a council meeting in the Hollows had ended some time ago. A group of Yellows had vacated the Throne Room, leaving the usual two permanent residents behind. One was the Blue King of the Hollows, who had just fallen asleep inside the insulated metal globe. A drone resembling a serpent lay coiled near him, its body connected by a web of wires. This was the Mendeleev drone, the mainframe of the settlement.

The Blue King snored softly while Mendeleev’s lights blinked methodically, each flash a signal coordinating the delicate balance that kept the colony functioning. It would have been another quiet evening—if not for the third, silent occupant.

A heavy figure emerged from the shadows, cloaked and undetected as it slipped toward the throne. Its cloaking systems shielded it from Mendeleev’s sensors, and the shadows helped it evade any human eyes that might have detected its presence. The figure crept forward, close enough to strike.

In one swift motion, the Raptor plunged a sharp limb into the king’s chest, piercing his heart. The king’s eyes opened briefly in shock, but he had no chance to move. His body stiffened and began to solidify, frozen in a final, lifeless form.

Now that it had neutralized the greatest threat, the Raptor deactivated its cloaking device, the hum of its systems filling the room. It waited patiently for Mendeleev to detect it. The serpent drone’s lights began flashing erratically, red and orange Bursts firing in rapid succession, as it registered the death of the Blue King and sent out an alarm that echoed throughout the Hollows.

Satisfied that the alarm had sounded long enough to rouse the settlement, the Raptor moved to the drone, extended a cable from its chest, and connected to the Mendeleev. It had anticipated this moment; its hacking protocols, designed to shred digital defenses, took only seconds to isolate Mendeleev from the Nexus system, severing the lifeline to the children in the Womb. The Raptor disabled the self-destruct programming, securing the valuable computing power that Mendeleev’s systems offered.

It left the alarm running, ensuring the humans knew their children were in peril.

When the infiltration was complete, the Raptor positioned itself by the Throne Room door, waiting. Soon, a group of humans appeared, their faces a mixture of rage and horror.

“Identify yourself!” one of them shouted. “Who are you? What did you do to our king?”

The Raptor stood motionless.

“There are children in there! Babies! You must let us through, or they’ll die!”

The Raptor remained silent, unyielding.

“They’re just children! Get out of the way!” Another human lunged forward, only to be forced back by the Raptor’s shield.

Desperation turned to fury as they clashed. First, they attacked with their Enhanced members, those who could summon physical power beyond ordinary humans. Energy beams and Bursts of flame followed, yet the Raptor’s shield absorbed and dispersed the attacks. Each attempt seemed to fade against the Raptor’s defenses, rendering the humans’ efforts futile.

“Get out of the way, you monster!” one fighter screamed. “Let us save them!”

Despite their fury, the Raptor remained unmoved, its force shields holding strong. Meanwhile, the corridor beyond filled with more and more people, gathering as news of the crisis spread. Mothers cried out desperately, urging the fighters forward to reach the drone, while fathers clutched them, stricken with grief and fury, their pleas echoing through the dark tunnel.

The leader of the group drew back, rallying her troops around her. “It’s too strong,” she said. “We can’t pierce those damn shields. Did anyone even score a hit?” The silence that followed was answer enough. She turned to the crowd, voice rising above the sobs and shouts. “Mendeleevs! Our king is dead, and soon, our children will be too. We’re not getting through.”

She took a deep breath, then raised her voice. “We need volunteers to give everything they have. Step forward if you’re willing to speak your truth.”

Without hesitation, fifty men and women stepped forward, each with faces set in determination.

“Don’t hold back,” encouraged the captain. Her body grew brighter, flames in her hands turning white-hot as her Longevity flared. Around her, each Yellow and Orange did the same, their bodies radiating in bright yellow, orange, and even faint shades of blue.

The Raptor activated its shields to maximum power, calculating the energy levels in preparation. The tunnels exploded in flames, a river of fiery yellow and orange mixed with searing white and blue. Energy poured forward in a desperate assault, splashing against the Raptor’s defenses in a scorching wave. Within seconds, the Raptor’s reactor registered a minor dip in reserves. It noted that it would take hours of this intensity to breach its shields.

The humans pushed harder, flames and beams surging anew as more fighters joined, giving their all. One by one, the attackers slowed, their Bursts dimming until each figure solidified, transforming into metal statues. Yet even as some were spent, new volunteers stepped forward to fill the gap, pouring their lives into the desperate assault.

The attack grew fainter, faltering as fewer remained to take up the charge. Soon, the flames subsided, and silence filled the chamber. Scattered throughout the molten, glowing tunnel were dozens of statues, silent monuments to human defiance. Half-melted and contorted, they were the last remains of the fallen. And in the center, the Raptor stood, untouched.

Satisfied, the Raptor activated its engines, stalking through the tunnels to ensure there were no survivors. It quickly dispatched the stragglers before returning to the Throne Room. It approached Mendeleev’s drone, its task complete, and connected its cable once more.

The Raptor initiated the process, ready to absorb the drone’s AI core and take one more step toward becoming whole.

Chapter 8