Red Dragon Spaceship Awakening: I Gain Alien Abilities on Mars-Chapter 207: Virality In Silver

The idea of opening a group chat with the leaders of the cities he had just held a summit with was actually a really good idea when you thought about it. It was wise, efficient, and solved a problem that would have become a major issue down the line if left unaddressed.

These people were busy. Incredibly busy. If you looked at it from a certain angle, they were essentially presidents, and their cities were their nations. They had populations to manage, infrastructures to maintain, economies to keep running, and now, on top of all of that, they had to deal with the constant threat of the Obscuron’s forces attacking at any moment.

Their schedules were packed from morning until night, filled with meetings, decisions, crisis management, and all that kinda stuff.

Sure they were lazy leaders who didn’t do so much for the places they were ruling. This leaders only focused on themselves, spending lots of the place they were ruling money on themselves and not doing much for the place.

But that was back on Earth.

On Mars? The possibility that something like this existed was very few.

Leaders were now smart enough to make good decisions that wouldn’t bring to the downfall of the city they were leading and... even if they were to try anything unserious, Tatehan was sure they would be some sort of rebellion and they would be removed.

I mean, everyone on Mars had abilities, a weapon that awakened it and could do some bit of fighting.

Now with the Obscuron on the loose, constantly probing defenses and launching attacks, it was clear that none of the leaders would have the time to travel to the Crosspoint, a city that was very far from all of their respective territories, for occasional in-person meetings.

The logistics alone would be a nightmare. Coordinating schedules, arranging security and dealing with the time it took to travel there and back, all while leaving their cities vulnerable in their absence occasionally.

That was why the idea of a group chat had immediately struck Tatehan as the best option. It was simple, direct, and allowed all five of them to stay in constant communication without the need for elaborate planning or wasted time.

Just the five of them, discussing strategies, sharing updates, coordinating responses, all in real time from wherever they happened to be.

It was so obvious that Tatehan was honestly a little surprised none of them had thought of it first.

Now, the next day after the summit, Tatehan sat in his quarters, his phone device resting on the table in front of him as he navigated through the interface and set up the group chat. He added all four leaders to the channel, double-checking the contact information to make sure he had not made any mistakes, and then stared at the empty message thread for a moment, trying to decide what to say.

Finally, he typed out a simple message and hit send.

The Group Chat is official.

The message appeared in the thread, marked with a timestamp and his name. Tatehan leaned back in his chair, watching the screen as the system registered that the message had been delivered to all recipients.

A few seconds passed. Then, one by one, the leaders began to see the message. Two of them: Elara Voss-Smith from Loenitt and Tom Vayr from Reon Outpost, reacted to it, their acknowledgment icons appearing beside the text.

Tatehan smirked. That was a start.

Everyone was online. Great!

He realized, somewhat belatedly, that he had never actually asked for their names during the summit. The conversation had been so focused on the Obscuron, on the threat they were facing and the need to work together, that introductions had seemed unnecessary at the time.

But now, looking at the list of contacts in the group chat, he was glad he had done his research back at the library.

He mentally reviewed what he had learned:

Leader of Loenitt City: Elara Voss-Smith. Descendant of the founder, Kryana Smith. A woman who had inherited not just the city but the legacy of building something lasting from grief and determination.

Leader of Reon Outpost: Tom Vayr. A descendant of one of the original exiles.

Leader of Iron Haven: Jorin Selles.

Leader of New Helios: Bjorn Odinson. A Viking. An actual, futuristic Viking who wore armor styled after ancient warriors and rode robotic steeds into battle. The man who had looked at Tatehan like he was a joke until he summoned his armor and proved otherwise.

Tatehan chuckled to himself. These were the people he was now working with. These were the allies he had managed to convince to stand together against the Obscuron.

It felt surreal.

After staring at the group chat for a few more moments, Tatehan closed the interface and opened a different app on his phone device. He navigated to the public internet, the sprawling network of information and social interaction that connected all of Mars, and typed a few search terms into the query bar.

"Figure in silver knight armor."

The results flooded in almost immediately.

Videos. Images. Articles. Discussion threads. Speculation posts. Fan theories. All of it centered around him. Around the Knight actually.

Tatehan scrolled through the feed, his eyes widening as he took in the volume of content. There were clips of him fighting Cherak in the sky, the two of them clashing in the air, energy blasts lighting up the darkened sky.

There were shaky, low-resolution videos of him taking down the Boulder-Back Behemoth, the massive creature crumbling under the weight of his gravity manipulation.

There were clearer, higher-quality recordings of him dismantling the Mech Monster...sending it to the sky with the help of Torvan’s devices.

And the comments. Oh, the comments.

"Who is this guy?"

"That armor is insane. Where can I get one?"

"He took down a Behemoth solo. SOLO."

"Figure in Silver Knight Armor is the most badass thing I’ve seen on Mars."

"Is he working for the Red Crest Clan or is he independent?"

"I want to know who’s inside that suit."

Tatehan could not help but grin. People were hyping him up. The posts had thousands of likes, hundreds of shares and entire threads dedicated to analyzing his fighting style and speculating about his identity. He had become, without even trying, a minor celebrity.

Well, not him exactly. The Knight had become a celebrity.

And that distinction was important.

Tatehan leaned back in his chair, his mind turning over the implications. His real nickname: the one he wanted to be known by when he wore the armor, was The Knight.

Simple, direct, memorable stuff.

It was what he had called himself when he revealed his identity to Bjorn at the summit, and it felt cool... sounded cool rather.

But right now, people were calling him "Figure in Silver Knight Armor." It was clunky, awkward, and way too long. It sounded like a placeholder name, something people used when they did not know what else to call him.

He thought about how cool it would be if everyone knew his real identity. If they knew that Tatehan, the guy who had fought Mub and won, who had survived battles against impossible odds, who had convinced four cities to form an alliance, was The Knight. He could actually be a celebrity. A real one. People would recognize him on the streets, ask for autographs and treat him like a hero.

It was a luxury he had never had in his former life on Earth. Back then, he had been nobody. Just another face in the crowd, living a quiet, unremarkable existence until the Space Dragons came and destroyed everything.

But here? Here, he could be somebody.

The thought was tempting. Really tempting.

But then, as he scrolled through more comments and saw people speculating about who the Knight was, where he lived, what his weaknesses might be and the appeal started to fade.

Did he really want that kind of attention? Did he want to be constantly surrounded by guards, followed by cameras, hounded by fans and reporters and people who wanted something from him? Did he want to lose the ability to just walk through the city as a free man, to move around without being recognized, to have moments of peace and privacy?

No. He did not.

Freedom mattered more to him than fame. He wanted to be able to enter Waython Hollow, or any other city, and move through it without a security detail trailing behind him. He wanted to sit in a restaurant without people staring. He wanted to live his life without constantly being in the public eye.

So he would try not to reveal his face. He would keep his identity hidden, at least for now. But maybe he could do something about the name.

Instead of letting people keep calling him "Figure in Silver Knight Armor," he could announce his true nickname. Make it official.

Let the name spread.

The Knight!

That was who he was with the armor, at least that was who he wanted to be known as.

Tatehan smiled to himself, already imagining how it would feel to hear people chanting that name, to see it written in bold letters across news headlines and social media posts.

The Knight!