Cody II, Chapter 9 The arrival of the Fleet reverberated through the dense forest, a whisper against the expansive silence. Cody watched with crimson eyes wide as shadows flitted between the towering trunks. One by one, ships slipped into hidden coves amongst the trees, their bellies skimming the underbrush. His heart raced—they were all here, a silent fleet united for a cause that churned in his gut like a living thing. "Engines off," he called out to Fang, his voice barely above a murmur yet carrying the weight of command. "Tell them, quickly." Fang nodded sharply, his form blending into the dappled light as he moved to relay Cody's orders. Soon enough, the hum of machinery died down to a series of soft clicks and sighs. The clearing was filling up, a sea of anticipation rippling through the gathered ranks. As the final ship set down, Cody recognized the familiar silhouette. His parents' mining ship touched the earth with the grace of an elephant on ice. Cody winced as the ship knocked over several trees in its landing. The hatch opened and his father emerged first, broad-shouldered and steady as the ancient oaks around them. His eyes scanned the surroundings before resting on Cody, a silent nod of acknowledgement passing between them. Next came his mother, her concern etched into every line of her face as she stepped out into the forest. "Mom, Dad," Cody began, his unruly hair bouncing as he took a step forward. The story spilled from him, the details of his meeting with the Ninth Light tumbling out alongside his disbelief and frustration. He watched his mother's expression shift from worry to indignation as he recounted the betrayal—the toys meant for children's smiles sold for profit under a veil of deceit. "Cody, you should leave this to the First Light to deal with," his mother suggested, her hands clasped before her as if to physically bridge the gap between responsibility and her child's safety. But Cody shook his head, his gaze firm and unyielding. "Mom, distributing those toys to the Ara children is my responsibility." He could feel the weight of a thousand innocent hopes resting on his shoulders, a mantle far heavier than any physical burden. "If I can't do that, then the faith the Ara people have put in me is for nothing." His lips curved into a determined line. "I have a plan." His declaration hung in the air, a banner unfurled against the backdrop of uncertainty. Cody's world had narrowed to this moment, to this mission, where not just toys, but the essence of childhood trust and wonder were at stake. They needed to be reminded that there was still magic in the galaxy—pure, untainted by greed or power. And he, Cody Branson, would be the one to restore it. Cody's fingers danced through the air, tracing diagrams and pathways only he could see. His parents watched, Sam listened with a mix of amusement and awe at their son's audacity, while Amelia's brow furrowed with maternal concern. Cody finished laying out his plan with a flurry of arms gesturing wildly. Sam chuckled, the sound bubbling up from deep within his broad chest. "This plan is so outrageous, I think it might work," he declared, shaking his head in disbelief. Amelia's lips pressed into a thin line, her gaze sharpening as she considered the logistics. "It's risky, Cody. There are too many variables. But..." She paused, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "With a few adjustments, there might be a possibility." Together, they huddled over a makeshift map laid out on the forest floor, Cody's mop of hair over his face as they bent closer. His mother pointed out sections of the Ninth Domain that could be a problem for a stealthy mission. "Cody, the Senior Lights have arrived," Fang announced, his voice betraying no emotion, but his eyes glinting with unspoken urgency. Cody glanced up, his crimson eyes meeting Fang's steady gaze. "I didn't call for them," he replied, confusion threading through his words. Fang shrugged, his broad shoulders lifting slightly. "And yet, they are here." "Okay," Cody nodded, determination etching his features. He could use their unexpected arrival to his advantage "Tell them I'm coming." He turned back to his parents. "This will work," he asserted with more confidence than he felt. "I'll get some people to help you off-load the crates." As he sprinted towards where the Ara leaders awaited him, Cody's mind raced with strategies and scenarios. Every step he took was one closer to restoring faith, one closer to proving that even in the darkest corners of the galaxy, hope could still find a way to shine. Cody's feet pressed into the soft soil as he bolted through the dense copse of whispering trees, their leaves rustling in a chorus of hushed secrets. The towering figures of the Four Lights shimmered ahead, their luminescence casting an otherworldly glow on the forest floor. Cody's chest heaved with exertion and anticipation; each breath was a puff of mist in the cool air. "Good, I'm glad you came," Cody panted, coming to a halt before them. His voice held the weight of urgency, his eyes darting from one imposing figure to the next. Without waiting for any of them to respond, he thrust a piece of paper at the First Light, who took it with a hand that glowed like molten gold. "Tomorrow morning after the mission is complete, this is the script I need you to tell the Ninth Light. You have to follow it exactly." The Second Light loomed over Cody, his presence heavy and foreboding. A frown furrowed his brow of pulsating light, annoyance flickering across his face like a storm cloud passing overhead. "Thanks for coming, I really need your help," Cody continued, ignoring the growing scowl. "You push asteroids around, you’re really strong. Could you please help my parents off-load those crates, they're really heavy." "You dare give me menial tasks to perform, I'll..." the Second Light's voice boomed like thunder, filling the clearing with its resonance. Cody cut him off mid-threat, his own voice firm yet tinged with a hint of pleading. "I know, I know, you'll turn me into a bug or something. Can you do it later? I'm really busy and this is important." He turned to the Third and Fourth Lights, whose twinkling auras hinted at amusement in the tension-filled atmosphere. "I need a holographic projector on my shuttle. The shuttle needs to look like this." Cody handed them a photograph, his fingers brushing against theirs, sending a shiver down his spine as if he'd touched stars. As he started to pivot away, Cody paused, his gaze locking onto the First Light with intensity that belied his young age. "Oh, the Ninth Light mentioned my Uncles, but I don’t have any Uncles, do you know what she was talking about?” There was a long pause before Cody continued, his expression laced with anger. “You don’t have to say anything, Tara figured it out while we were waiting for the Fleet. You didn’t just make a few tweeks to my DNA, you used my mother to grow your genetic experiment. I should have realized, the clues were there the whole time.” Taking a deep breath to steady his racing heart, Cody's eyes searched theirs for an acknowledgment of the truth—a truth he had only just begun to grasp. "Do my parents know the truth?" he asked, the question hanging in the air like a comet's tail. The First Light responded in a whisper that seemed to resonate with the sorrow of the cosmos. "No, they do not." Cody's anger felt like ice forming on a wintry pond. "They are never to learn the truth. If they do, I will leave this planet and never return." With that, Cody spun on his heel, distancing himself from the four Beings of Light that had steered his destiny since before he could remember. Anger simmered within him, not for the manipulation of his own life, but for the potential hurt it could cause Amelia and Sam Branson—the two people who loved him most in this universe. As he walked away, the toy dragons that adorned his bedroom shelves flashed in his mind, their wings spread wide as if ready to take flight. They stood as silent guardians of his innocence, now contrasted starkly against the complex web of lies and duty he found himself entangled in. Amidst the fading light of dusk, Cody paced before the silent assembly. The Fleet, an impressive array of sleek ships nestled between the towering trees, stood behind the gathering of pilots and crew—beings of pure energy—before him, their forms casting soft glows against the darkening forest backdrop. "Listen up," Cody called out, his voice steady despite the butterflies in his stomach and the last rays of sun glinting off his crimson eyes. He swept a gaze over the Fleet, heart thumping a rapid rhythm against his ribs. "Tonight, it's not about space battles or flashy maneuvers. It's about stealth, kindness... and toys." He paused, taking in the sea of luminescent faces. Tara stood by his side, her green eyes gleaming with resolve and support. Whiskers and Fang flanked his parents a short distance away, their tall forms diligent as they filled the sample sacks his parents used during scientific expeditions with colorful playthings. "Each of you will grab one of those sacks," Cody continued, pointing toward his parents' diligent work. "The toys—they're meant for the Ara kids under Ninth Light's rule. She's tricked them, stolen from them, and profited from gifts that were freely given. It's time we make things right." His audience shifted, the air buzzing with unspoken questions. Cody knew what they expected: orders to power up engines, prepare weapons, take to the skies. Instead, he asked them to be as quiet as shadows, as gentle as a whisper. "Your mission," he said, taking a deep breath that filled his lungs with cool twilight air, "is to slip into the Ninth Domain unnoticed. On foot, kinda. You'll go where our ships can't—right to the doorsteps of those kids." He watched as his words settled over them like a blanket of stars. Some nodded, others exchanged glances, but all listened. This was different, unexpected—a plan that bent the rules of their world. "Stay hidden. Dim your lights. Silence is your ally," Cody instructed, his tone earnest. "Each child deserves a toy, a bit of joy from us. And we've gotta do it before sunrise." Glancing back at his parents, Cody felt a surge of pride. His mother, Amelia, caught his eye and offered a smile that could warm the coldest moons. His father, Sam, gave a thumbs-up, his usual sign of encouragement. "Use your Ara ‘magic,’" Cody added, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "I know you can be invisible when you wanna be. Be like those toy dragons in my room—they seem still until you look away, then I swear they move. Be that sneaky." A murmur of laughter rippled through the crowd. Cody's analogy had hit home; it was simple, childlike, yet it captured the essence of their task. With a final nod, he concluded, "Midnight's our start. Let's show these kids that someone out there cares. That no darkness can snuff out their light." As the group dispersed to prepare, Cody remained standing, watching the night swallow the day. He thought of the toy dragons on his shelf, their painted wings poised for flight, guardians of innocence in a galaxy that often forgot such purity existed. "Ready, Cody?" Tara's voice cut through his reverie. "Born ready," he replied with more bravado than he felt. But it wasn't entirely false; this was his plan, his responsibility. He'd see it through to the end—for every child in the Ninth Domain, for the trust placed in him, and for the sake of keeping a secret that could unravel the only life he'd ever known. Cody's gaze swept over the assembled throng, their bodies awash in soft hues of flickering light, a stark contrast to the darkening forest around them. Their whispers were like the rustling leaves, full of curiosity and uncertainty. The Ara queued up to receive their share of the burden. They didn't grasp the full scope of his plan, but they understood duty—understood that Cody, the First Son, asked for their trust. "Will this really work?" one of the Ara asked, tendrils wrapped around a sack almost as big as itself. "Trust me," Cody reassured, offering a confident smile he didn't quite feel. "Just remember, silence is key." Among the crowd, even the senior Lights had joined the queue, stooping to hoist sacks onto their shoulders. The Second Light grumbled under his breath as he hefted a sack he probably could have thrown into the sun. He just liked to grumble. The Fourth Light analyzed the contents of his bag as if calculating the joy each toy would bring. Cody watched them, his heart swelling with pride. "Never thought I'd see the day," Cody murmured, eyes lingering on the powerful beings now playing Santa's helpers. As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in streaks of purple and gold, the first chime of midnight struck, resonant and clear. Silence fell like a blanket over the gathering. One by one, the Ara dimmed their lights, their natural glow fading until the forest was enshrouded in an expectant hush. Cody held his breath; the moment of truth had arrived. "Remember, we are shadows tonight," he whispered, barely audible. "For the children." The Ara nodded, unseen in the darkness. Then, as if by magic, they began to fade away, slipping into the hyper-space dimension that was their birthright. Cody squinted, trying to make out shapes in the blackness, but there was nothing—only the ghostly sensation of movement, the air stirring with the silent departure of his people. "Go on, you've got this," Cody said to the night, the words for himself as much as for the Ara. His plan was in motion, a plan rooted not in might or power, but in kindness. Cody's footsteps tapped a steady rhythm on the metal decking of his parents' ship, each step echoing his mounting anxiety. The bridge was bathed in the soft glow of instrument panels, casting long shadows that seemed to stretch and twist with his every move. Tara stood beside him, her body language mirroring the tension in his shoulders, her green eyes reflecting the star-speckled void beyond the viewport. "Sweetheart, you're wearing a hole in the floor," Amelia Branson's voice cut through the silent anticipation, gentle but firm. She perched on the edge of the pilot's seat, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. "Trust in what you're doing, and that the Ara can pull this off." Cody ceased his pacing and offered a weak smile, the restless energy still coursing through him. He glanced at Tara; she gave a small nod, as if to say they had indeed done all they could. They were confined to waiting now, an activity Cody found more daunting than facing the Ninth Light herself. As the first hints of dawn whispered across the sky, a ripple of excitement surged through the ship. It started as a low murmur, rapidly growing into a cacophony of voices that swelled from the forest below. "They're back!" Tara exclaimed, rushing to the viewport, her flowing blonde hair bouncing with each hurried step. Cody ran to the door and out into the growing dawn. One by one, the Ara emerged from the thinning veil of darkness, their natural radiance returning like the first light of day. Their forms shimmered with vibrant hues as they recounted tales of stealth and daring to anyone who would listen. "Slipped right past the guards!" one exclaimed, his form pulsing with the thrill of adventure. "Delivered toys to the palace itself," another shared, pride resonating in her luminescent aura. The Wing Commanders moved among the returning Ara, their own lights steady and calm as they tallied each and every one. No Ara was left unaccounted for, no soul forgotten. A sense of unity and accomplishment filled the air, mingling with the earthy scent of the forest that filled the clearing. Cody's heart swelled as he listened, his earlier trepidation melting away under the warmth of success. They had done it—they had truly done it. For a fleeting moment, he allowed himself to bask in the joyous atmosphere, the laughter and cheers of the Ara washing over him like a soothing tide. "See, they did it, just like you said they would," Tara murmured, nudging Cody's arm with a grin. He nodded, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. And though he couldn't join the Ara in their ethereal realm, in that instant, he felt as close to them as ever before. He wove through the throngs of Ara, their colors returning to normal as they settled from their nocturnal escapade. His heart thumped a wild rhythm against his ribs, the moment of truth pressing upon him like the gravity of a thousand suns. The cheers and chatter around him faded into a muted backdrop as he sought out Firebelly, the First Light. Firebelly's glow was strong and steady, a beacon in the faint light of dawn that now crept over the horizon. Cody approached him, his eyes set with determination. "Okay, it's time," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, but carrying the weight of worlds. "Only you can do this; she won't attack you. Follow the script exactly." The First Light regarded Cody, a silent nod conveying understanding. There was a sadness in his eyes for their relationship now certainly ruined with Cody knowing the truth of his origins. Cody frowned. “I’m mad right now,” he said. “But, I know you’re not human, you don’t have the same morality as a human. You didn’t think you were doing anything wrong, but you were. The Universe isn’t your private toy to play with as you wish.” In the blink of an eye, the First Light vanished from sight, his form dissolving into the crisp morning air as if carried away by an invisible tide. Moments later, The First Light re-emerged in the midst of the Ninth Domain, where confusion had begun to unfurl like a flag caught in an unforeseen breeze. He found the Ninth Light outside her palace, her aura flickering with uncertainty as she surveyed the scene before her. Children—tiny beacons of pure, untainted joy—darted about, clutching toys to their chests. Their laughter chimed through the air like a melody, and their faces shone with delight as they shared their newfound treasures. The Ninth Light's gaze swept over them, searching for an explanation in the chaos of happiness that had erupted without warning. "First Light!" she hissed, her voice sharp as the edge of a knife, "is this your doing?" The First Light, undeterred by her tone, stood resolute. Cody's instructions echoed in his mind: precise words chosen to seed doubt and fear, yet cloaked in the innocence of a childhood legend. "Children of Ara know joy this day," he said, his voice deep and calm, a stark contrast to the Ninth Light's agitation. "Joy that was meant for them." He watched as she turned her gaze to follow the sound of distant laughter and the sight of small figures engaged in play. The toys, once mere objects in crates, were now talismans of wonder in the hands of the children. Each one—a tiny dragon, a puzzle, a ball—was a declaration of Cody's triumph and the Ninth Light's defeat. The First Light, calm as the deep Ara Sea, met her gaze. He leaned in close, his voice a low rumble that seemed to reverberate through the very ground beneath them. "I've come to tell you of something our agents on Earth have discovered. There is an Entity living on Earth that is more powerful than any Ara," he began, the gravity of his words pulling the Ninth Light into a reluctant stillness. "The Entity is the Protector of Human Children, and his power extends to every world, space station, and ship where there is a human child, delivering joy once a year across their worlds. Now, its gaze has turned to Ara, ensuring no child is left in shadow." His eyes glinted with the reflected light of the toys now clutched in happy arms around them. The First Light leaned in close, his voice low. “You gave my son a warning, so now I’ll repay that not-so kind warning you gave him. That Entity is here, he has arrived. You better watch out, you better not cry, you better not pout," The First Light intoned the words Cody gave him to say, each word a hammer driving home the certainty of his warning. "He knows when you've been bad or good, so be good for goodness sake." With that, the First Light stepped back, his form dissipating like mist under the sun, leaving the Ninth Light alone with her thoughts and the ringing of distant bells. She looked up, and silhouetted against the dawn sky, impossible creatures with fierce and deadly antlers pulled a sled that danced between the clouds. And there, the figure inside, commanding the sky—red as the heart of a flame, red as the fiercest Ara legend, was the Entity, shouting out a terrifying battle cry. “Ho, Ho, Ho”. The Ninth Light's aura turned pale, fear leaching the color from her being as she witnessed the embodiment of myths she had never dared believe could be real.