The twin suns of Velora Prime bled warmth across the vast horizon, casting long golden streaks over a sea of swaying rice fields. Each stalk stood proud and tall, as if saluting the boy who had raised them from cracked dirt into a thriving empire of green. The wind carried whispers—soft, breathy sighs from the fields—as though they knew he was leaving.
In the distance, the sky split open with a roar.
A shuttle descended like a predator from the heavens, its shadow slicing across the land. The earth trembled beneath its thrusters, and the rice fields flattened in waves—bowing before the black leviathan from the stars.
The shuttle was sleek, dark, and merciless. On its armor-plated hull, the Insignia of the Human Empire blazed like a crimson wound: a war helm framed by twin particle blades, behind it a shattered star. It didn't speak peace. It screamed dominion. Painted beside it, the Stellar Academy's emblem glinted in silver—a spear breaking through a tactical grid, its shaft wrapped in a string of seven stars. A symbol of victory earned, not given.
Fifteen-year-old Kael Renn stood barefoot at the edge of the field, a smear of earth on his cheek, sweat still drying on his neck. His shirt was patched, his trousers faded—but his eyes held the storm of a man centuries ahead of his time.
Behind him, rows of automated harvesters rumbled steadily, almost reluctant to let him go. The machines he'd rebuilt with broken parts and sheer brilliance seemed quieter today, like sentient creatures watching their maker depart.
He had come from nothing. Less than nothing. A forgotten planet. A farmer's son. But his mind...
"IQ: 412."
"Colony Optimization: +220%."
"Battlefield Predictive Rating: Class Unmeasured."
Numbers didn't lie. And Stellar Academy—the Empire's most ruthless crucible—had come knocking.
Three Months Earlier – The Entrance Trial
The examination complex was cold steel and sterile light. A thousand applicants filled the hall—sons of admirals, heirs of governors, scions of interplanetary banking houses. Kael arrived alone, an odd shadow in a sea of tailored uniforms and polished boots.
Whispers curled around him like smoke:
"Who's that?"
"Did a worker sneak in?"
"He'll be out before Phase One ends."
He didn't speak. He didn't need to.
He sat down. And he began.
[Phase One – Logic & Warfare Theory]
Thirty simulated battles. Each a historical reconstruction from the Empire's blood-soaked past.
While others debated, Kael moved.
He saw through formations like glass. He shattered chokeholds before they formed. He bled the enemy's will to fight while preserving every last life on his side. The AI that monitored the test paused halfway—confused by his impossible accuracy.
"Completion Time: 19 minutes."
"Correct Optimal Tactics: 30/30."
"Prediction Accuracy: 98.2%."
AI Annotation: "Recommend active duty trial. Possibly non-human."
[Phase Two – Resource Simulation]
A collapsing colony. Food shortages. Civil unrest. Power grid instability.
Others panicked. Kael built.
He rerouted energy through solar capture systems. Modified waste processors into irrigation units. Structured a farming protocol using vertical growth stations in abandoned towers—doubling food within a simulated year. By year two, his colony was exporting food and weapons.
"Colony Tier: S++"
"System Note: Error. Optimization logic exceeds database parameters."
Admin Comment: "This… this shouldn't be possible."
[Phase Three – Combat Synchronization]
Neural sync tests. The academy's prized metric. Average sync: 52%. Exceptional sync: 70%.
Kael Renn?
"97.6%."
The AI flinched.
"Neural pairing achieved in 0.6 seconds. Reaction speed within elite pilot range. Candidate viable for direct control interfaces. Prepare Tier-1 watch."
When results were posted, Kael's name burned like a supernova at the top.
They stopped whispering after that.
Now – Departure
The shuttle door hissed, and a soldier stepped out. "Kael Renn. Confirmed."
He turned toward the farmhouse. His father stood there, arms crossed, eyes shining but stern. He gave a small nod, the kind only a father could give when holding back a hundred unspoken words.
Kael nodded back. Nothing more needed saying.
He boarded the shuttle.
Inside, soft lights pulsed on. Seats hummed as they adjusted to his height. He felt a tremor in the air—subtle, electric. Like the stars themselves were watching.
The shuttle broke orbit, stars emerging like silver dust across the black sea.
Kael looked out the viewport. Behind him was home. Before him, a destiny forged in fire and iron.
The stars had seen many rise.
But none like this.