9th December, Space Era Years 102.
Imperial Capital Berlyn, Centory Kingdom Reich.
The great bells of Berlyn tolled across every corner of the imperial capital. Above the golden spires and marble domes, the sky bloomed with fireworks — each explosion forming the shape of a crowned dragon, emblem of the mighty Centory Empire. The grand imperial banner, larger than a ten-story tower, billowed majestically over the stadium as ten thousand royal guards stood in flawless formation, their polished armor reflecting the light of the twin moons.
"The Grand Olympiad of the Space Era — has begun!"
The proclamation thundered across the coliseum, echoing amid the deafening cheers of millions. All eyes turned toward the imperial dais — where Lord Aelyzabeth Thors sat in her resplendent white-and-gold uniform, the personification of Centorian authority. Behind her hung the jeweled Dragon Banner, embroidered with a thousand diamonds that shimmered like captured stars.
One tier below her throne stood a boy of ten — Aerys Vilozyver — solemn and unmoving in the dark military uniform of a Centorian cadet. He was heir-apparent in title, yet his face betrayed no smile, his silver eyes calm and unyielding as tempered steel.
Though the day marked an occasion of galactic celebration, to Aerys it was merely a duty — another ceremonial presence demanded of him by lineage and state.
Far across the vast amphitheater, seated neatly in the lower tribune, were the younger children of the Vilozyver–Thors household — including little Julia von Thors, the newest infant of the family, cradled by her royal governess. Aerys saw them from afar but did not approach. He understood too well the protocols of Imperial Security and chose instead to remain where he was — silent, composed, and watchful.
Then the ceremony began.
The parade of the three participating nations — Centory, Thailang, and Evening — marched into the arena to the sound of triumphant brass.
The Centorian athletes advanced first, clad in deep navy cloaks adorned with golden dragons. Their disciplined precision made them appear less like athletes than soldiers of divine design — each step perfectly measured, their boots striking the ground in mechanical unison.
Next came Thailang — the eastern ally from the Asiatic sector of the galaxy. Their delegation wore radiant garments of copper and black patterned with traditional motifs, entering the field with music and smiles that filled the arena with warmth and rhythm.
Finally appeared the athletes of Evening — the desert world of blazing suns. Dressed in cream and gold uniforms, some with sand-veils draped across their necks, they carried themselves with the proud resilience of survivors.
The competitions began the following day.
Though dubbed merely the "Tri-Solar Olympiad" following the boycott of the Galactic Federation, Centory's magnificence eclipsed all.
The track events — spanning over two kilometers — thundered with disciplined might. Centorian runners moved like engineered predators, winning every round with records unseen in human history.
In the Energy Marksmanship Event, a Centorian woman achieved a perfect score of one hundred hits, despite solar-storm winds tearing across the field. Thailang and Evening, though unable to surpass the empire, performed valiantly, earning the crowd's thunderous applause.
In the end, the Centory Kingdom Reich secured the greatest number of S-Class Valor Medals ever recorded in the history of the Galactic Olympiad.
The empire's athletes were hailed as "God's Perfect Machines," while Thailang and Evening received Silver C-Class Honor Medals for bravery and perseverance.
As the closing fireworks painted the heavens once more — a crowned dragon encircled by three radiant stars — the imperial anthem "Hymnus Gloria Centory" resonated throughout the city, its solemn grandeur filling every soul with awe.
Aerys stood beside his mother's throne, his silver-gray eyes reflecting the golden light. He felt neither excitement nor pride — only comprehension. Today, his duty was simple: to stand here, and to remain silent.
When the ceremonies concluded, Aerys returned to Evening once more.James Stark awaited him at the docking bay, greeting him with his usual bright grin. The two spoke idly as they walked — and for the first time in weeks, Aerys laughed.
"Did you just smile, Aerys?""Perhaps… You make it less intolerable, I suppose."
To the outside world, he remained the cold-hearted heir of the Centory Empire.But to James Stark — Aerys Vilozyver was simply a friend, one who understood.
And that — however slight — was what Aelyzabeth Thors and Marshal Vito Vilozyver had longed to see all along:the moment their son's heart began, at last, to open.
Thus ends Chapter B-VII.