Carter and Ron cut through a bank of heavy clouds, emerging to find a vast, flat expanse. Rising from the center of the plateau like a needle piercing the heavens was a monolithic structure.
Space Tower.
"Is this a new gateway to your ships?" Ron asked, his voice trailing off as he took in the scale of the building.
"I'll explain everything once we're inside," Carter replied shortly, his eyes fixed on the landing pad.
As they touched down, the gate commander snapped to attention, offering a crisp salute. Carter returned it without breaking stride. The reinforced doors slid open with a pressurized hiss, swallowing them into the heart of the facility.
They stepped into a VIP lift. As it ascended, the glass walls revealed a sprawling view of the interior. Below, regiments of soldiers moved with robotic precision—some drilling on the shooting range, others locked in hand-to-hand combat. Beyond the training grounds sat rows of sleek interceptors, heavy tanks, and swarms of drones.
How did humanity jump this far in only eight hundred years? Ron wondered, his breath fogging the glass. Especially Bruce. His technology is off the charts. Where do these ideas even come from?
"This is our primary hub," Carter said, breaking Ron's trance. "The most advanced facility on the planet."
"What about the other bases?" Ron asked. "Who's guarding the perimeter?"
"Friends. Comrades I trust with my life."
Ron shook his head. "In my time, we had nothing like this. We had wooden boats for trade and horses for travel. Something feels wrong, Carter. This level of evolution... it shouldn't be possible in eight centuries."
"The world shifted fifty years ago," Carter explained. "Give or take."
"What was the catalyst?"
"Innovation. Progress. My grandfather used to tell me about the Hard Ages—the era of struggle. He promised me that by the time I was his age, the world would be 'easy.'"
"Was it the Scars?" Ron pressed. "Are they behind this?"
"No. We had machinery before—steam engines, carriages, trains. For a long time, we called it the Steampunk Era. But the last twenty years? Everything accelerated. We've entered the Information Era."
The lift chimed and the doors retracted.
"So, the spark happened fifty years ago, but the fire started twenty years ago," Ron summarized as they stepped out.
Carter nodded, though his expression darkened. "This place was never normal. That's what my father used to say. He told me if I wanted a peaceful life, I should find a place where the people are few and the shadows are short."
They reached a set of heavy double doors.
"Your father was a wise man," Ron said softly. "He'd be proud of the man you've become."
Carter stopped at a massive terminal, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. "He wasn't a good father... but he was a good father."
Ron placed a hand on Carter's shoulder. "Do you know what it's like to be a parent, Carter? A father only has one compass: his children. Whatever happened in your past, remember that a father puts his family first. He doesn't weigh right or wrong; he just weighs his child's happiness. When his children hurt, he wants to take that pain and double it upon himself."
Carter's eyes widened, the armor around his heart flickering.
"He was only human," Ron added. "Humans are flawed. He made mistakes that left scars, but I don't believe his intentions were ever malicious."
"His intentions..." Carter whispered. "Only he has the answer to those."
"The mind is a strange thing," Ron said. "If you focus on even a flicker of light, you can find your way out of the dark. Until you get your answers, focus on the good."
"Damn, Ron. When did you become a philosopher?" a voice chirped from behind them.
Ron sighed, the moment of gravity breaking. "What are you doing here, Akira?"
Akira stepped forward, offering a hand that Ron shook with a weary grin.
"You've got it wrong, Akira," Carter teased. "Philosophers only ask questions. Ron actually gave me an answer."
"I just meant he spoke with such... gravity! Reminded me of that old guy—Socrats? Something like that?"
"Socrates," Carter corrected.
"That's the one!" Akira chirped.
Ron looked at Akira with a look of profound exhaustion. "Seriously, why are you here?"
"I work here! I'm an essential part of the furniture."
Carter cut through the banter. "Akira, I need the archives. Pull every file on the name 'Emma.' Narrow it down to a window of thirty years ago to ten years ago."
Akira's jaw dropped. "Carter, 'Emma' is one of the most common names in the hemisphere. And a twenty-year window? That's a mountain of data!"
"Then get climbing!" a gravelly voice barked.
The trio turned to see Khain approaching.
"Look at that," Ron noted. "The 'Great' Khain has arrived."
"Ron. It's been a while. You look like hell," Khain grunted.
"Who's the scary guy?" Akira whispered into Carter's ear.
"That's Khain. I called him in for the mission," Carter said. He clapped his hands, signaling the end of the reunion. "Enough. Everyone, inside."
Carter handed out a series of matte-black half-masks. "Identities stay hidden. Sit in the back and keep your ears open."
He walked toward a nondescript library bookshelf and gave it a firm shove. It swung inward, revealing a hidden stairwell. They descended into a subterranean hallway lined with heavy, numbered doors.
"Hey, Ron," Akira whispered as they approached the end of the hall. "What do you think is behind the other doors?"
"Monsters," Khain interrupted, his voice cold.
"Exactly. Monsters way scarier than this guy," Akira joked, pointing at Khain.
Khain gave Ron a mock-hurt look. "Damn, Ron. Your friend has a big mouth."
"Shut up, put your masks on, and get inside," Ron commanded.
Akira lingered for a second too long, and Khain leveled a soul-chilling death glare at him. A shiver raced down Akira's spine. Seeing the raw killing intent in Khain's eyes, the humor vanished, and he scrambled to catch up with the group.
They entered a large, dimly lit briefing room. A massive wooden table dominated the center, equipped with glowing buttons at every seat. The room was already packed with masked figures, their hushed whispers creating a low hum of tension.
"What is this?" Ron whispered, his hand hovering near his weapon.