The reconnaissance vessel Verdant Dawn cut through the void like a blade through silk.
It was smaller than the warship Diana had left behind—sleek, fast, built for speed rather than siege. Inside the cramped bridge, six figures stood in tense silence, their eyes fixed on the viewscreen ahead.
Princess Diana Genever V stood at the helm, her green hair cascading over her shoulders, her expression unreadable. She wore light combat armor—black with green accents, the emblem of Bardona emblazoned on her chest. Her hands rested on the console, steady despite the unease radiating from her crew.
Behind her stood five warriors, all handpicked for this mission. All Stage Two cultivators. All loyal.
Thorne - A man in his forties with a scarred face and eyes like chips of jade. His green hair was tied back in a warrior's knot. Silent, disciplined, deadly. He carried twin blades sheathed at his hips.
Sylva - A woman in her late twenties, lean and graceful, her green hair braided into intricate patterns. Her fingers traced the hilt of the spear strapped to her back. Quick. Observant. Ruthless when needed.
Rowan - A massive man, broad-shouldered and thick-armed, his green hair cropped short. A shield as tall as Diana rested against his back. Unshakable. The wall that never breaks.
Ivy - A young woman, barely twenty, with sharp eyes and fingers that never stopped moving. A bow slung across her shoulder, a quiver at her hip. Precise. Patient. A hunter born.
Ashwood - The oldest of them, mid-fifties, with green hair streaked with silver. A mage. His hands glowed faintly with verdant energy even at rest. Wise. Calculating. The mind behind the blade.
All of them bore the mark of the Kingdom of Bardona—green hair, eyes that gleamed with life energy, skin that seemed to pulse with vitality.
And all of them were nervous.
Ahead, through the darkness of space, the planet came into view.
And it was wrong.
The oceans weren't blue. They were red—deep, crimson red, like fresh blood under torchlight.
The skies weren't clear. They were choked with red clouds—thick, roiling masses that swirled as if alive.
And the aura—
Even from orbit, Diana could feel it. An oppressive, suffocating presence that made her stomach turn.
"By the Mother…" Sylva whispered, her hand moving instinctively to her spear. "What happened here?"
"Nothing good," Ivy muttered, her fingers tightening on her bow. "That's what."
Thorne said nothing, but his jaw tightened, his hand resting on his blade.
Rowan shifted his massive frame, the metal of his shield scraping softly against the floor. "Princess, that aura… I can feel it from here. It's like standing next to an open grave."
"A very large grave," Ashwood added quietly, his glowing hands moving across the console. "With something still crawling inside."
Diana's expression remained calm, but inside, her mind raced.
"Ashwood," she said quietly. "Full planetary analysis. Civilization level. Threat assessment. Everything."
The old mage stepped forward, his hands glowing brighter as symbols flickered across the console—data streaming from sensors, magical arrays, energy readers.
His eyes narrowed as he read the results.
"Civilization level: Stone Age. Primitive. Pre-industrial. No advanced technology detected."
Diana frowned. "Stone Age? Then how—"
"Princess." Ashwood's voice cut her off, tension creeping into his tone. "Multiple high-energy signatures detected."
A map of the planet appeared on the viewscreen, red dots marking concentrations of power.
"10,000 at stage one and 500 individuals at Stage Two. Location: eastern continent."
Ivy leaned closer, her hunter's instincts sharpening. "500 Stage Two? On a Stone Age world? That doesn't make sense."
"It gets worse," Ashwood continued. "Three individuals at Stage Three."
Silence fell over the bridge.
Sylva's voice was tight. "Stage Three. Same as you, Princess."
"One located in the Royal Castle," Ashwood said, magnifying the map. "Two… scattered across the planet."
Rowan let out a low breath. "Three Stage Threes. 500 Stage Two. Six of us."
"I can count, Rowan," Sylva said dryly, though her knuckles were white on her spear.
"Just making sure we're all aware of the terrible odds," Rowan replied, his voice deadpan.
Thorne finally spoke, his voice low and firm. "Princess, if there are Stage Three entities on that planet, we should report this to the Queen Mother. Immediately."
"Agreed," Rowan rumbled. "This is beyond a reconnaissance mission."
"Wait." Ashwood's hands froze. His face paled. "There's something else."
A new layer appeared on the map—a web of energy pulsing from a single point.
"Detecting… an attempted gate opening. Recent. Very recent. The energy signature is still fading."
The temperature in the bridge seemed to drop.
"A gate?" Sylva's voice was sharp, urgent. "To where?"
"Unknown." Ashwood shook his head. "The connection was severed before completion. But there's a secondary signature. A… link. An anchor point."
He magnified a section of the map, focusing on the Royal Castle.
"Here. Something—or someone—is connected to another realm."
Diana stared at the map, her mind working through the implications.
A Stone Age world. Oceans of blood. Skies choked with evil. Multiple high-level threats. A failed gate opening. A connection to somewhere else.
None of it made sense.
"This is a Life Zone," she said quietly, more to herself than the others. "This region of space falls under the domain of Life. Evil energy shouldn't be able to grow to this extent here. Not naturally."
She turned to Ashwood. "How strong is the corruption?"
The old mage hesitated. "Princess… the entire planet is saturated. The water. The air. The land. Whatever happened here—"
"It's drowning in it," Ivy interrupted, her young face pale. "I've never felt anything like this. Not even in the Dead Zones."
"Then we should leave," Thorne said flatly. "Now. Before whatever caused this notices us."
"No."
Diana's voice cut through the air like a blade.
Everyone turned to her.
"We don't have time," she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. "If we return to the fleet, request reinforcements, wait for approval… whatever is happening on that planet will be finished by the time we return."
"Princess—" Rowan began, his deep voice careful.
"This is an order," Diana said sharply. "We're going down. Now."
Ivy's eyes widened. "Your Highness, with all due respect, there are three Stage Three entities down there. We have six people. If we engage—"
"We're not engaging." Diana's gaze fixed on the red planet ahead. "We're investigating. Quietly. Carefully. If the situation is beyond us, then we retreat and call for backup."
She turned to face her crew, her green eyes blazing.
"But I feel it. Something terrible is happening on that planet. Something that can't wait. And if we turn back now, we'll be too late."
Sylva exchanged a glance with Thorne. The scarred warrior's jaw worked, then he nodded once.
"I don't like it," Sylva said. "But I'm with you, Princess."
"As am I," Rowan rumbled. "Though for the record, I think this is insane."
"Noted," Diana said.
Ivy sighed, adjusting her bow. "If we die down there, I'm haunting all of you."
"Get in line," Sylva muttered.
Ashwood studied Diana for a long moment, then bowed his head. "As you command, Princess."
Thorne was last. His jade eyes met Diana's, unflinching.
"If it comes to a fight," he said quietly, "we hold nothing back."
"Agreed."
Diana turned back to the console, her fingers moving across the controls.
"Set course. Full stealth approach. We go in dark."
The Verdant Dawn adjusted its trajectory, angling toward the planet's surface.
As they descended through the red clouds, Rowan broke the silence.
"Princess?"
"Yes?"
"When we survive this… I'm requesting a long vacation."
Despite everything, Sylva snorted. "You and me both."
"I'll join you," Ivy added. "Somewhere with blue oceans."
Diana's lips twitched, almost forming a smile.
"Survive first. Vacation later."
The ship plunged into the crimson atmosphere.
And Diana's hand tightened on the console.
Hold on, she thought, staring at the blood-red world below. Whatever you are… whoever you are… hold on just a little longer.