The summons arrived at precisely 07:03, delivered by a fleet of white drones that hovered silently outside the glass-front of their apartment.
Ren's father had just stepped onto the balcony, sipping the first bitter cup of coffee, watching the evening traffic flow along Elaris Avenue. Cars levitated a few inches above the road, gliding on magnetic rails, while smaller personal flyers weaved overhead. Mana-infused streetlights pulsed softly, casting faintly colored shadows across the streets.
Then the drones landed, their landing pads shimmering with protective wards. One extended a crystalline panel toward him, displaying the insignia of the National President. A golden phoenix coiled around a globe.
Ren's father's stomach tightened.
He pressed a hand to the panel. The message unfolded in luminous glyphs:
Immediate summon. Attendance at the National Presidential Palace is required. All transport and security provided. Noncompliance is prohibited.
No signature. No pleasantries. Just the authority of the state itself, made absolute.
His wife appeared at the balcony door, her eyes wide. She read the floating letters over his shoulder.
"The President…" she whispered, barely audible.
"Yes," he said, voice tight. "It's not from the Academy. This is… the state."
The gravity of the words pressed down harder than any weight they had ever known. Ren's awakening had already drawn attention, and the summons made it clear: this was not curiosity. This was a concern. Concern, and perhaps calculation, on a level they had never faced before.
★★★
Within ten minutes, the vehicles arrived. Sleek black sedans, polished to a mirror finish, hovered quietly outside the building. Their surfaces rippled faintly with wards that shimmered like water in sunlight. Guards in fitted crystal-armor stood at the doors, scanning with mana-infused eyes, detecting anomalies invisible to ordinary senses.
Ren's father and mother were ushered into the first vehicle. Inside, the cabin was softly illuminated by floating crystals embedded in the ceiling. A hum of energy filled the air, imperceptible at first, but heavy with power. The seats molded themselves to their bodies, and a faint aura of protection warded them from magical eavesdropping.
The driver, clad in sleek black uniform, turned without a word. No one spoke. But before they left, they wanted to see Ren. So Ren's father requested. They agreed. The car glided forward smoothly, its levitation thrumming softly against the road.
★★★
Elaris City unfolded outside the window like a living map.
It was a metropolis of staggering scale, layered vertically as much as horizontally. Below, streets teemed with cars, carts, and pedestrians. Middle layers were bridges and aerial lanes, buzzing with floating vehicles. Above, glass towers stretched like cliffs, brimming with windows that glimmered with glowing magical glyphs. Energy currents, visible to those attuned, spiraled around each building, showing where mana concentrations flowed strongest.
In this city, magic and modernity were inseparable. Storefronts advertised enchanted wares alongside electronic devices; skyscrapers pulsed with both electricity and mana; guards patrolled with firearms etched with runes, combining bullet and spell.
Ren's father noted every detail with a strange mix of awe and anxiety. Their family had lived in Elaris all their lives, but they had never been escorted through the inner sanctums, where the city's pulse was strongest, where power literally flowed in visible currents.
His wife's hand tightened on his arm. Her nails left faint marks in his sleeve. She did not speak, but her tension was palpable.
"We are leaving the common streets behind," he thought. "And stepping into the heart of power."
The driver stopped near the academy. They opened the door and went to meet Ren. After some moments, they came back. They entered the vehicle. And the vehicle again levitated…
★★★
The convoy approached the Presidential District.
Here, the city was stripped of casual bustle. Shops were gone. Only towering walls of glass and metal remained, interspersed with hovering walkways and surveillance towers that bristled with mana sensors. Flying patrol units zipped past, their engines humming in perfect synchronization, while the streets themselves were patrolled by elite guards whose crystal armor glowed faintly with wards of strength and obedience.
Checkpoints awaited. The convoy paused briefly at each, scanning every inch of the passengers with both magical and technological scrutiny. Even the air seemed measured, currents flowing around them, as if testing the worth of those who entered.
Ren's father felt every glance, every flicker of energy, every silent assessment. At no point did he relax. Even in their own city, they were now under scrutiny.
Finally, the vehicles crossed the last barrier: a bridge of solid crystal connecting to the National Presidential Palace itself.
★★★
The Palace rose before them, a perfect marriage of glass, steel, and magical wards. Its towers curved skyward in elegant arcs, some ending in floating spires that shimmered with raw mana. Crystal bridges connected the towers like veins of energy. The walls themselves pulsed faintly, alive with protective enchantments that could repel armies.
Elite units flanked the approach, standing still, silent. Floating orbs scanned the approaching vehicles, sending pulses of energy through the air like invisible tripwires.
Ren's father's chest tightened. This was not just a building. It was a fortress. A command center. A declaration of absolute control.
The convoy slowed at the main gates. A pair of guards, taller than any man, clad in glowing crystal armor and etched with runes of enforcement, stepped aside. The doors opened before them, as if acknowledging the authority of the summon itself.
Ren's mother pressed a hand to his arm. "It's… enormous," she whispered.
"Yes," he said, swallowing. "And dangerous."
★★★
Inside, the lobby was vast beyond belief. The floor was polished black stone, inlaid with gold that shimmered faintly. Floating light orbs hovered overhead, reflecting across the walls, which were etched with murals of historic events, battles, treaties, catastrophes, each infused with faint mana.
The family followed their escort down a long corridor. Security units moved silently alongside, scanning the hall with eyes that seemed to pierce flesh and soul alike. Every turn brought new evidence of wealth, magic, and power combined. They passed offices lined with screens showing continents, magical currents, and live updates on incidents across the nation.
Ren's father's mind raced. This is not a ceremony. This is an evaluation. They will measure us, and through us, measure him.
Finally, the escort stopped before a massive pair of doors. They were at least three meters high, carved of white stone, with veins of gold pulsing faintly. Magical runes shimmered across the surface.
The escort inclined his head. "The President awaits."
The doors swung open silently.
The chamber beyond was circular, stretching wide and high. Crystal windows bathed the room in fractured sunlight, falling across a polished black desk in the center. Behind it sat the National President.
Not adorned in robes or medals, but in a simple dark suit. His presence, however, was impossible to ignore. Every movement was measured. Every glance was precise. His eyes carried weight, authority, and calculation. A man used to having the world bend to his perception.
When they entered, he looked directly at them.
Ren's father felt a chill, despite the warmth of the evening sun streaming in.