It had been nearly five hours since their flight lifted off from the Himalaya Nation.
Raj lounged in his seat, a satisfied grin spreading across his sleeping face. In his dream, Sara laughed at one of his jokes while moon-petals drifted around them.
Beside him, Om hunched over a weather-worn book, devouring each line as if the letters might fade without warning.
> Cabin Announcement (tinny, calm):
"Attention passengers. In twenty minutes we will reach our destination—the Sky Continent."
Raj's eyelids fluttered open. He blinked away the dream—Wait… twenty minutes?—then rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Om didn't so much as flinch; the only thing that existed for him was paragraph 18 on page 247.
A soft gasp rippled through the cabin. Raj glanced out the window and felt his jaw loosen in awe.
Thousands—literally thousands—of aircraft streaked across the cerulean sky, angling toward a single floating landmass that glimmered in the late-morning sun. Silver, obsidian, crystal, wood-and-canvas relics—every type of craft ever built rode the same invisible highway.
Raj nudged Om with an elbow. "Hey, look at that, bookworm. This is gonna be one heck of a spectacle."
Om allowed himself a fleeting glance. Yes, that's a lot of ships. Then he buried his nose back in text. The boy preferred words to wonders.
Raj huffed, half-offended. I'm amazed and I'm an adult—how is he so… He looked around. Every other passenger—families, teachers, even some stoic soldiers—pressed eager faces against glass. Relief washed over him. I'm not the odd one. He is.
---
Touchdown
Exactly nineteen minutes later the landing thrusters roared. The aircraft kissed the tarmac of a colossal sky-dock. Magnetic anchors clamped onto the hull with a metallic snap.
Before anyone could rush out, Raghav—their silver-haired headmaster in his crisp charcoal suit—stood and raised a hand.
Raghav: "Students, we have arrived on the Sky Continent. That spire ahead is W.I.A. Headquarters. Today's ceremony will be held on the plaza outside.
Volunteers will guide us—please stay in line."
Rows formed behind him. The air outside tasted crisp, tinged with ozone and faint wild-flower sweetness carried on updrafts from the floating meadows below.
The landing apron resembled a festival ground. Camera drones buzzed overhead, projecting live feeds onto hover-screens that ringed the plaza.
Raj's pulse quickened… until he noticed an empty space beside him.
"Where the hell is Om?" he muttered, then jogged to Raghav. "Sir—Om's missing."
Raghav frowned. "He sat with you. Find him, Mr Raj."
"On it!"
Back inside, Raj discovered Om still belted in, eyes glued to ink.
Raj's face contorted. "Om, we're on the Sky Continent!"
"When did we land?" Om asked without looking up.
"I swear, kid—hand over that book or I'll burn it!" Raj barked. He yanked Om up by the sleeve and frog-marched him out.
---
A Familiar Guide
On the apron, the group clustered around a broad-shouldered man in a guard-issue vest—Bhanu.
Raghav waved the boys over. "Students, meet Mr Bhanu—our national liaison and guide."
"Hello, Mr Bhanu," the class chimed. Om and Raj shared a stunned look. He followed us all the way here?
Bhanu's grin widened. "Good to see you, kids."
As they filed toward the headquarters, Raghav asked, "Could you outline the inheritance procedure for them?"
Bhanu (clasping his hands behind his back):
"Certainly. First, we'll wait in the outer lobby until our nation is called.
When it's our turn, you'll form a circle around the Monolith —an ancient obsidian pillar veined with aether-gold.
At the instructor's command, place your right hand on its surface. The Monolith 'translates' the dormant potential into knowledge, attributes, and energy specific to your destiny."
A ripple of hushed excitement flowed down the line.
Bhanu's eyes gleamed. "Remember: eat your fruit an hour beforehand—otherwise the conduit can't attune."
He lowered his voice conspiratorially. "Do any of you know why W.I.A. summoned us here instead of letting each nation use their local monolith like previous years?"
Raghav answered, passion coloring his tone. "Because tests proved the Sky Continent Monolith yields stronger inheritances. W.I.A. is centralizing all pillars under its protection."
Bhanu gave a playful salute. "Spot on."
---
The Volcano of Glass
Headquarters finally came into full view—a titanic volcano-shaped citadel forged of polished steel and prismatic glass, crowned with a perpetual flame of pure aether that roared hundreds of meters into the sky. Holographic runes spiralled up its flanks, listing the feats of past legendary inheritors.
At its base stretched the Plaza of Embers, where teams queued beneath color-coded arches. Giant holo-monitors broadcast rankings from earlier time slots; a chorus of cheers erupted every few minutes as a new name ascended.
When "Himalaya Nation" flashed crimson on the call-board, Bhanu distributed golden lacquered boxes to fifty wide-eyed students. Each box cradled a fist-sized white fruit—pearlescent, softly pulsing with inner light.
Raj retrieved his own fruit from his pack; a few other independents did likewise.
Bhanu: "We're on in about an hour. Eat, rest, breathe. I'll fetch you when they call our number."
He strode off, leaving the cohort under Raghav's watch.
---
Taste of Power
Boxes clicked open. Juices with hints of lychee and winter-mint coated tongues. As the last bite slid down Om's throat, warmth unfurled through his muscles like sunrise over ice-fields.
Sara was right… I can feel real strength blooming inside me! he marvelled.
Raj whooped and dropped for push-ups, banging them out faster than a metronome. "With this strength I'll be unstoppable! Hey, Om—race me to a thousand?"
Om rolled his eyes but couldn't suppress a grin.
Nearby, Ronnie's curiosity piqued. "Sir Raghav, what happens if someone eats two of these?"
Raghav's voice became steel. "Don't. The first fruit is medicine; the second is often poison. Worst case? Your body detonates from uncontrolled aether saturation."
Ronnie went pale. The others swallowed hard.
A second later Raj shouted, "Fifty-nine… sixty!"
The tension eased as students clustered around him, cheering. Laughter and nervous energy mingled in the plaza air, carrying sky-high hopes toward the volcano's burning summit.