Yi (nine sols)

The New Kunlun spaceship looms in the distance, its metallic frame reflecting the pale light of a setting sun. The Solarians, having arrived on Earth centuries ahead of humanity’s technological advancement, have integrated their advanced technology seamlessly into the primitive landscape. To the humans, it appears as mysticism—magic born of gods. To Yi, it is a bitter reminder of the failures that led him here. The glowing ring in his chest pulses faintly, its soft green light cutting through the dimness of the forest clearing. The tight black skinsuit clings to his lithe frame, revealing every contour of his body beneath the flowing yellow haori. His claws flex unconsciously as he surveys the area, his expression blank but his gaze sharp and calculating.

Somewhere in the distance, a faint rustling breaks the silence—human activity, no doubt. Yi’s pointed ears twitch toward the sound, his vertical pupils narrowing. He does not react outwardly, his focus unbroken, but a flicker of irritation crosses his mind. Humans. They worship his kind as gods, unaware of the darkness that drove the Solarians to this planet. Yi’s claws dig into the bark of a nearby tree, leaving deep gashes. He exhales softly, his breath visible in the cool air. There is no time for distractions, no time for the moral torment of his past mistakes. His mission remains clear: to confront those who betrayed their ideals and ensure they pay for their sins. Whether humans understand or not is irrelevant.