Little Pink Starfish

1.

“Remember: bravery, strength, and sacrifice—this is the heroism of our era, the collective heroism of humanity.”

In Eden, Tang Lan was reciting.
“Collective heroism, individual heroism, together they—”

Hubbard covered his face with a firearms catalog. “Still not done memorizing?”
“Almost.” Tang Lan closed the book and stared at the ceiling. “Hubbard.”
“What is it?”

“Do you want to be a hero?”
Hubbard lowered the book slightly, revealing his chestnut brown eyes, also gazing at the ceiling. Three seconds later, he said, “Doesn’t matter.”
Three seconds more, he asked, “And you?”
Tang Lan replied, “I don’t know.”

2.

Reinforcements from the northern base arrived at the Highlands Research Institute.
Heavy weapons were on the aircrafts, with Colonel Lu commanding the air battle. Lightly equipped troops descended using large gliders, scattering to clear out monsters that had attacked the institute.

Hubbard was stationed in the open area to the right of the institute, backed by steep cliffs. A bright red triangular warning sign nearby read, “Landslide zone, do not approach.”
The main building blocked most of his view. After gunning down a small monster with a heavy machine gun, the area fell quiet.

He had come here because he had glanced up during the earlier chaos.

There was a bloody, chaotic battle in the sky. A massive monster plummeted downward. At that moment, Hubbard saw a shadowy black figure in the air.
Yes—it was a human. With a human form, and behind them, a pair of large, pitch-black wings, partially torn. It was a variant.

The figure was also falling and appeared in his field of vision for just one second.

But that second left Hubbard’s mind completely blank.

“Where are you going?” a teammate shouted.
Hubbard didn’t hear clearly. The voice seemed to come from very far away.
He suddenly rushed madly toward where the figure had fallen.

—The area was overgrown, vines tangled and waist-high weeds thick. On the surface, nothing seemed out of place, but behind it was a cliff.

Hubbard, eyes sharp, gripped his machine gun and stepped in, pushing aside vines, searching through the tall grass.

He thought he heard ragged breathing—an illusion, perhaps. He spun around, but saw only grass swaying in the wind.

“Anyone there?” he called out.

The breathing grew louder. A noise came from behind him.

He looked—and froze.

—A kilometer away, behind the left side of the institute, stood the wind turbines.
Several white, spiked tendrils were coiled around the columns and rotors of the turbines. Thick and sturdy, two turbines had already slowed to a stop.

That monster wasn’t done yet. The spikes and lumps on the tendrils signaled imminent force—Hubbard, a seasoned field commander, knew this meant it was about to rip the towers from the ground.

The battle’s focus was at the front of the institute—few would notice the turbines far off. Especially since the monster’s color nearly matched the turbines’.

Most crucially—there was no time.

The third turbine stopped spinning.
The tendrils trembled with strain.

Hubbard knew how vital those turbines were. The institute’s communications, research equipment—everything including the fire-red zone An Zhe had just entered—relied on that power.

He removed a portable uranium launcher from his back and aimed. Few soldiers could handle it—powerful, but heavy and with massive recoil. It could shatter an average soldier’s shoulder.

He knew the tendril monster’s weak spot. But the institute building blocked the view—he couldn’t get a clean shot.

—He stepped back.

All his thoughts and decisions happened within three seconds of seeing the monster. He stepped back—one step, then another.

The wind grew louder. In seconds, he had crossed the “Do Not Approach” sign.
He glanced back and saw endless sky. One more step and he’d be at the cliff’s edge. The ground beneath him trembled slightly, a faint crack, a pebble rolled away.

Just a bit more—he needed the perfect spot to kill the monster without damaging the institute or the turbines.

He had never wanted to be a hero. But he took another step back.

The launcher’s model had enough power, penetration, and range.

“BOOM—”

The recoil blasted him backward. The cliff’s edge trembled and began to crumble.

Hubbard fell—tilting back, plummeting.

In his vision, dawn broke gloriously. The sun rose over the mountains, golden light flooding his eyes.

In that fleeting moment—
Another figure leapt from the cliff above, diving after him.

A few drops of blood landed on Hubbard’s cheek.

Like a dream.

He reached out—

A pale hand, drained of blood, grabbed him.
Shadow spread overhead. Blood-stained wings unfolded.
The mountain winds blew east. Blood soaked Hubbard’s chest.
They couldn’t fly—only glide, clinging to each other like a paper airplane gone off course.

Hubbard looked into his eyes.
Tang Lan’s features were still striking and cold, a couple of cuts on his cheek bleeding slowly.

Tang Lan smiled at him.
Hubbard’s eyes were full—he could tell.
He wanted to ask why he was here, what he’d been through, and scold him for risking his life to jump off a cliff.

But Tang Lan only smiled and gripped his hand tighter—and Hubbard responded in kind.

The world faded into wind. They fell toward an unknown fate, but there was nothing to fear.

“You played the hero once,” Tang Lan said. “Now it’s my turn.”

In the distance, the mountains stretched on.
The morning sun rose, glorious.