The next projection showed Earth from orbit.
But this wasn't ancient history.
This was now.
The planet turned slowly, its surface calm but scarred. Deep, sprawling regions—dark and cracked—etched across the land like wounds that had yet to heal.
Forbidden Zones. They pulsed faintly, visible even from this height, a quiet reminder that the damage of the past hadn't faded.
In contrast, pockets of green still clung to the surface, seas still shimmered blue under sunlight, and clouds drifted gently, indifferent to the turmoil below.
Above the surface, rings of satellites blinked, tracing thin silver lines in perfect arcs. Further out, artificial structures hovered in partial completion—orbital rings, stations, construction crawlers inching forward.
They looked fragile from a distance. Like humanity was still trying to rebuild something it couldn't quite name.
Still trying to reach upward.
Still trying to move again.
Ardis watched it all without speaking for a few seconds.
