This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Fit_Professional4936 on 2025-07-05 20:50:52+00:00.

The Storm Academy was bathed in the golden light of the setting sun, its ancient stone walls standing as silent witnesses to generations of warriors who had trained within them. At the center of the training grounds, beneath the shadow of a massive obsidian monument etched with the names of the fallen, an old man sat on a worn bench. His armor, once shiny and clean, now bore the scars of countless battles, its edges dulled by time but still standing.

Around him, a group of children sat in a loose circle, their young faces alight with curiosity. They had heard the tales of a elder who had fought in the Intergalactic Wars. Some of them were orphans, their parents lost in the skirmishes along the neutral zones. Others were the sons and daughters of soldiers, raised on stories of human defiance.

One of them, a boy with dark eyes and a stubborn set to his jaw, was the first to speak. “Elder Denid, is it true that humans were once slaves?”

Denid regarded him for a long moment before answering. “Not just slaves, Jaren. Worse than that. We were once forgotten.” He let the word hang in the air, heavy with meaning. “The orcs and elves rewrote history. They erased us from their records, made us into a species that was created to be slaves.”

A girl with fiery red hair, Lira, scowled. “But we’re stronger than them! How did we lose in the first place?”

Denid exhaled slowly, his gaze drifting to the horizon. “Pride and division. The old human empires, dozens of them, spread across the stars, were too busy fighting each other to see the enemies gathering. The orcs were a tide, endless and brutal. The elves? They were the knife in the dark, cutting our throats while we slept.” His voice grew quieter. “By the time we realized what was happening, it was too late. They burned our worlds and broke our fleets. Drove us to the edge of extinction.”

One of the younger boys, barely seven cycles old, blinked up at him. “But… we’re still here.”

Denid’s lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Aye, we are. Because some of us refused to die.”

Lira leaned forward. “What happened after we lost? Where did we go?”

Denid’s fingers traced the hilt of the blade at his side, its metal worn smooth by decades of use. “Earth.” He said the name like a prayer. “A backwater world, forgotten by the galaxy, the last refuge of our species. The orcs and elves thought they had won. They carved up our old territories, turned our cities into ruins, our temples into slave markets.” His voice hardened. “For thousands of years, they believed we were gone. But we were never gone.”

Jaren’s eyes narrowed. “What were we doing all that time?”

“Learning,” Denid said. “Earth’s scholars dug through the wreckage of our past, piecing together the technology we had lost. Our warriors trained in secret, passing down the old ways. And when the time came…” His voice dropped to a growl. “We got our revenge.”

Lira’s breath hitched. “How? We were just one planet!”

Denid shook his head. “Earth was just the spark. But we were never alone.” He gestured to the academy around them. “The Storm Academy was one of many hidden colonies and worlds that had survived in the shadows, waiting.” His eyes burned with the memory. “When Earth’s first warships tore through orc blockades, when they freed the first slave camps, word spread. And like a wildfire, the rest of us rose.”

The children were silent now, their imaginations painting the scenes he spoke of; armadas of human ships, blackened with age but flying colors unseen for many years. Warriors emerging from the dark, blades in hand.

Jaren swallowed. “Was it enough?”

Denid’s grin was fierce. “The orcs had spent centuries growing fat on stolen land. They weren’t ready for war. And the elves?” He barked a laugh. “They thought they could outmaneuver us, like before. But this time, we didn’t fight as individuals. We fought like humans.”

A smaller girl, her voice barely above a whisper, asked, “Did we win in a landslide?”

Denid’s expression darkened. “We survived. But survival isn’t free.” He looked at each of them in turn. “Billions of us died, and worlds burned. The orcs fought like cornered beasts, and the elves? They were worse. They didn’t just want to kill us, they wanted to break us like before.”

Lira’s fists clenched. “But they failed.”

“Aye,” Denid said. “Because we refused to break. Every battle, every death, only made the rest of us fight harder. And in the end, they surrendered.”

Jaren frowned. “So why are we still fighting now? If we won?”

Denid’s gaze lifted to the sky. “Because victory isn’t permanent. The orcs still hate us. The elves still scheme. The treaty we forced on them is just words on paper. And words,” he said, his voice like gravel, “can be burned.”

The children exchanged uneasy glances. The thought of another war, one they might have to fight, settled over them like a shadow.

Lira was the first to break the silence. “Will we win again?”

Denid opened his mouth to answer—

Then suddenly, alarms sounded.

A deep, resonant horn split the air, shaking the ground beneath them. Crimson light flooded the courtyard as the academy’s defense towers flared to life. In the distance, the sky burned with the streaks of incoming ships, too fast and too many to be friendly.

The children shot to their feet, panic flashing across their faces.

Jaren whirled toward Denid. “What’s happening?!”

The old warrior didn’t answer immediately. Slowly, he rose from the bench, his bones protesting but his spirit unbroken. His hand closed around the hilt of his sword, the metal humming as it slid free.

Lira’s voice was sharp with fear. “Elder Denid—!”

He turned to them, and for the first time, they saw the fire in his eyes, not the dim look of an old man, but the blazing fury of a soldier who had stared into the abyss and laughed.

“War,” he said simply.

And then he smiled.

The children would remember that smile for the rest of their lives, the smile of a man who had seen hell and walked out unbroken. The smile of a warrior who knew, without doubt, that humanity would never fall again.

Somewhere above them, the first orbital bombardment hit. The ground trembled as screams tore through the air.

Denid didn’t flinch.

“Let them come.”