There are few reliable records left of the civilization that built the Grid. Its creators vanished long before most planets learned interstellar travel. Some insist the Grid had been a planetary defense system. Others say it was a power network. Most dismissed it as myth.

Daelin had grown up hearing stories of the Grid. His grandmother spoke of constructs buried under alien soil. Large hovering towers each connected into a lattice that spanned entire continents. She would often mention one name; Guardian-0. The first node of the Grid, designed to hold the line alone until reinforcements arrived. As a child he imagined it standing unbroken against storms and bombardment. As an adult, Daelin assumed the stories had been embellished over time.

Rydessa, his home planet, was part of a trading route frequently visited by large market carriers. Essentially space flea markets. Often tasked with buying goods for his planet, Daelin came across a scrap dealer who had laid out a heap of corroded components and half-functional tools. The entire stock was nothing but rust. As he turned to leave, a larger mass of metal at the back of the stall caught his eye, its shape uncomfortably close to the stories his grandmother once insisted were real. His heart skipped a beat. Making sure to keep a straight face to avoid a price hike, he inquired dismissively about it and purchased it.

Transporting the construct home triggered debates across every department of government, but when the engineers pried open the frame, the arguments stopped. Under the dust laid circuitry that did not match any modern technology. It was as though energy had been printed directly through the metal itself. Further inspections revealed it was intact and only needed a way to wake.

Reactivation took months. Technicians mapped every current, every dormant relay and every subsystem that refused to respond. When Guardian-0 finally powered on, the lights in the facility dimmed for a moment and the construct lifted into a steady hover, held in place by its own stabilizers. A beam projected downward, anchoring it to the floor.

The timing could not have been better. Daelin’s planet had been issued a war challenge by a neighboring world convinced it could annex them without consequence. The Athelan Battlegrounds responded immediately, demanding the usual tribute: a champion to fight on their behalf. But his people had no warriors, no living weapon, no soldier capable of surviving the arena even for a moment. Their society had rejected violence generations ago, and their traditions left them unprepared for what the summons required.

The council deliberated for days until a single conclusion remained. Guardian-0 had no fear. It had no lifespan to mourn, no family to leave behind, and no blood to spill. It had been built expressly for defense. Submitting it to the Battlegrounds would mean losing a priceless artifact from a lost civilization, but refusing would mean losing their planet entirely.

The choice was clear.

Guardian-0 was delivered to the summoning station without ceremony. When the activation sequence began, the construct emitted a low harmonic pulse that resonated through the chamber, projecting a geometric barrier across the entire room. For a moment, the council glimpsed at what the Grid might have been at full strength: an unbroken wall, indifferent to time.

When the light subsided, their champion was gone. Claimed by the Athelan system and bound to defend them for eternity. Just as it had been designed to do.