"Wear this around your neck," Victor Sergei instructed, holding out the ID card necklace.
Elara Queen gazed at her father, her eyes brimming with curiosity, before placing the necklace around her neck.
"What is this for?" Elara asked, her voice soft but full of questions.
"You'll need it if you want to meet your grandfather," Victor Sergei replied, his voice low but firm.
"Hm… why has Grandfather never come, even once, since we moved here?" Elara frowned.
"It's not that he refuses to come," Victor let out a long sigh, his eyes lingering on the silent house. "He… he despises this house. It was a gift from your mother to me."
Elara lowered her gaze for a moment. "Was Father really that poor before?"
Victor gave a bitter smile. "Sometimes, you talk too much with me… but with others, you're cold."
"Are you mad, Dad?"
"No… I'm really happy," Victor replied softly, though the grinding of his teeth told another story. His daughter frowned.
"If you're happy, why does your face look like that?"
Victor drew a long breath, forcing his voice to stay calm. Then he gave a faint, weary smile. "I'm just joking, sweetheart."
He bent down, pulled her into a tight hug, and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Go on now… before I change my mind."
Elara held out her hand. "Money?"
Victor Sergei pulled a card from his trouser pocket. "Take this… and don't forget to ask your grandfather for some money later."
"Huh?" Elara blinked, a small smile tugging at her lips.
"Hahaha… don't worry. Your grandfather isn't stingy."
"Alright… I'm going then." Elara stepped toward the door, pausing to glance back.
"Be careful," Victor Sergei's voice was soft, yet firm. "No flying, understand? Pretend, just for a while, that you're an ordinary human."
Elara tilted her lips into a wry smile and waved. "Relax, Father."
-----
Elara Queen walked at a leisurely pace, following the path that had become familiar to her on every trip to school. Above the city, military aircraft still hovered, slicing through the grey clouds with a heavy hum that echoed between the towering buildings. On the ground, convoys of heavy and light vehicles belonging to armed forces continued their march toward the defensive fortress.
For almost two weeks, Valdora City—the first fortress in the west—had been left empty. Public transportation was suspended; its citizens had yet to return. Perhaps they felt safer taking refuge in the second fortress city—far from the front lines.
But none of that concerned Elara. With earphones blocking both ears, she continued walking to the rhythm of her own heartbeat. She alone could hear it.
"Seriously… why can't I just fly?" Elara muttered under her breath. "The gates aren't close. Public transport's suspended too. Just my luck today," she added, kicking a small stone that bounced to the side of the road before letting out a long sigh. The sky above was a steel-grey—mirroring her mood perfectly.
Almost an hour had passed since Elara Queen began walking, yet her face remained calm—showing no hint of fatigue. Not a drop of sweat dotted her brow, even though the sun beat down from a blazing sky.
"Finally…" Elara whispered softly as her eyes caught sight of the silhouette of a great gate in the distance. Before her, a line of security stood at attention, watching the military vehicles passing by with hawk‑like gazes.
Without hesitation she continued. The soft thud of her shoes echoed on the hot tarmac, each step bringing her closer to the towering gate. But before she could step inside, a security officer suddenly moved forward and blocked her path.
"Please stop for a moment," the officer ordered, his tone firm.
Elara Queen halted immediately, complying without protest.
"Where have you come from?"
Her question went unheard—her earphones were still in place. The officer pointed at her, signaling for her to remove them.
Elara drew a breath and slowly pulled the earphones free.
"Where are you from?" he repeated.
"From home," Elara answered evenly.
"Isn't this city supposed to be evacuated?"
"I don't know."
"Do you live alone?"
"With my father."
The officer's brow furrowed. He appraised Elara from head to toe, as if weighing whether the girl spoke the truth.
"Where are you headed now?"
"To the main city."
"For what purpose?"
At that, a warmth rose in Elara's chest—a prickling impatience at the barrage of questions—but she kept her temper.
"I'm going to visit my grandfather," she replied quietly, though her gaze had sharpened.
The officer let out a derisive smile. "Your grandfather lives in the capital, yet you and your father live here?"
"Yes."
"All right… then give me your grandfather's details. Don't misunderstand—this is procedure. You know it's not easy for ordinary people to get in there."
Elara said nothing. Slowly, she reached for the necklace resting at her throat. Without a word she removed it and handed it to the officer.
He examined the pendant—a gleaming ID card dangling from the chain. His expression changed in an instant, from indifferent to alert.
"Where did you get this card?" he asked, now suspicious.
"My grandfather gave it to me," Elara replied tersely.
"Your name is Elara Queen?" he confirmed.
"Yes." Elara exhaled, betraying her annoyance. "Can I go in or not? If I can't, I'll go back."
The officer's face tightened with concern. "Sorry, wait a moment," he said, then hurried toward a colleague.
Elara stood there with her blood boiling, forcing herself to be patient as she watched the two officers whisper about the card, their eyes flicking to her before one of them hurried into a nearby room—likely to make a call or run a check.
She clutched her head for a moment; heat rose within her. Silently she imagined a reckless action.
"If I followed my heart, I'd just tear this fortress down," she muttered inside, fury a private echo only she could hear.
----- --- ---
(Headquarters of the Super Southern Haven Forces)
Outside the main corridor, Aeria Voss hurried toward Captain Solaris' office, a digital tablet clutched tightly in her hand. Reaching the office door, she drew a deep breath, steadying herself before knocking lightly.
"Come in!" Captain Solaris' firm voice came from within.
Aeria opened the door and stepped inside. "Captain."
"Hm… you, Voss," Solaris muttered without lifting his gaze, eyes still fixed on the file atop his desk. "Where were you last night? I didn't see you in the control center."
"Sorry, Captain," Aeria replied quickly. In full military uniform, she stood rigidly before the desk, disciplined. "I was investigating something."
Solaris paused his writing. "Investigating what?"
Aeria raised her tablet, scrolling swiftly across the screen before extending it toward her commander. "This, Captain. I think… you need to see it for yourself."
Captain Solaris studied the tablet, his brow knitting tightly. His fingers scrolled across the display before he finally looked up at Aeria.
"Why do you have this information?" he asked gravely.
Aeria's expression shifted slightly. "Why, Captain?"
"This is classified, Voss. Who authorized you to copy all of this?"
"I took it without permission, Captain."
Solaris exhaled deeply, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his forehead. "Why would you do that, Voss?"
"Captain… I actually suspect this man's daughter," Aeria said softly. "If you remember the monster that appeared in Valdora City… I was there. I saw the girl—standing atop the school roof, calm, completely unafraid. Shortly after she disappeared, the monster… just died."
Solaris regarded her for a long moment. "Voss, that girl has no energy. She took the test when she was six."
Aeria raised an eyebrow. "How do you know?"
"This man is no ordinary human, Voss. His name is Victor Sergei—a superhuman of Omega level. Former commander under the Iron Rebirth Alliance. He was once assigned to protect a city… but that city was destroyed by a Primals attack. His wife was killed in that assault. Afterward, he relocated here."
Aeria was still unconvinced. "But why move here? It wasn't his fault the city was destroyed."
Solaris stared out the window. "His wife was the daughter of Albert Hayes—our president."
"What?" Aeria gasped. "Then why does he live in the western fortress…?"
"I don't know," Solaris said slowly. "Either it was his choice… or perhaps Hayes hasn't forgiven him yet." He handed the tablet back to Aeria. "Don't investigate this further. Victor's power rivals mine. There's no way he could face an Origin entity alone… let alone his daughter."
Aeria took the tablet back, but her mind swirled with questions.
"You'll join me later… and bring the others," Captain Solaris ordered without looking at her.
Aeria straightened her posture. "Where are we going, Captain?"
Solaris rose from his chair, slipping on his gloves with calm precision. "We're facing the World Alliance forces. Be ready—we move in one hour."
Aeria inclined her head slightly. "Understood, Captain."
---- ---- ---
Meanwhile, at the second gate of the Western Fortress, an officer hurried out of the control room, adjusting his cap as he went. His breath came in ragged gasps as he approached Elara Queen.
"Miss… Miss Elara, sorry for complicating your journey. I'm Antom, the officer on duty at the gate," he said, wiping sweat from his brow.
"So… what now? Can I get in or not?" Elara asked, her voice rising.
"Yes, yes… but, miss, wait just a moment."
"What now?"
"Just a moment, miss."
Elara scratched her head, scowling. Her temper was rising, but before she could voice her frustration, the roar of an aircraft engine thundered from above.
A military plane slowly descended in front of the gate, sending dust and sand swirling around it. Several fully uniformed officers emerged in formation, their steps in perfect sync as they approached Elara.
Antom bowed slightly, giving a salute. "That's your transport, miss… please board."
Elara eyed the plane suspiciously. "Am I being arrested?"
"No, miss. That plane… is specially ordered to take you to meet your grandfather."
The scene immediately drew the attention of other security personnel gathering around the gate.
"Who's getting arrested?" one whispered.
"I don't know…" replied another, both watching the plane prepare for departure.
Meanwhile, Officer Antom stood among his men as Elara Queen stepped onto the aircraft.
"Who's getting arrested, sir?" asked one of the younger officers.
Antom turned slowly. "That's no criminal."
"If not a criminal… then who?"
Antom was silent for a moment, his eyes tracking the plane as it lifted into the sky. As the engine roar faded into the distance, he rendered a crisp, respectful salute.
"That… is the president's granddaughter," he said calmly.
The surrounding officers exchanged incredulous glances.
"That's absurd, sir. The president's granddaughter can't possibly live here."
Antom did not look away, only offering a faint smile. "She is indeed the president's granddaughter," he said softly—loud enough to leave everyone within earshot frozen in silence.
The aircraft trembled lightly before lifting off. Elara Queen leaned back calmly in her seat, her gaze fixed on the view outside, her face unreadable.
Below, Valdora's second fortress grew smaller—a city of gleaming lights and interwoven building structures, like veins of living energy. From this height, it looked serene… almost too serene for a place recently struck by crisis.
She had never flown before. Yet there was no flicker of anxiety in her heart—only a subtle curiosity, hidden behind her cool, impassive stare.
The plane glided onward, cutting through the layers of air until a swirl of blue light appeared ahead. A massive energy dome shimmered like molten crystal. Elara recognized the place—SilverSun, the heart of Southern Haven's main city.
Before the aircraft pierced through the energy dome, the pilot requested clearance from the control center. Once permission was granted, the plane moved slowly toward a shimmering gateway that had formed on the dome's surface.
As the aircraft passed through, the world outside shifted in color. Silver light intertwined with blue, wrapping around their view and dancing softly across the cockpit glass.
Elara Queen gazed outward in silence. The strange radiance reflected in her dim eyes, as if the sky itself was breathing. For a brief moment, her lips lifted slightly — not quite a smile, merely a faint shadow of one, easily mistaken for awe… or perhaps a memory struggling to return.
"475 RedWind, respond, Roger!" The radio crackled sharply.
"475 RedWind responding, Roger," the pilot's voice replied, a hint of tension beneath the calm.
"Report your status immediately. Land your aircraft on the SH Maine carrier," came the firm directive, leaving no room for argument.
"475 RedWind, Roger… we're currently en route, transporting the President's VIP, Roger," the pilot responded, trying to maintain composure.
"475 RedWind… this is an emergency order! The carrier will be moving shortly. This is a rescue mission!"
The pilot glanced back, meeting Elara's eyes. He faltered, torn inside. "Err… 475 RedWind will… will comply now, Roger," he said slowly, attempting to mask his confusion.
"Miss Elara!"
Elara Queen turned, her gaze steady on the pilot—calm, yet edged with curiosity.
"I'm sorry… we're on an emergency mission. You must come with us," he said, his voice low but urgent, the pressure of the sudden order evident.
"Where are we going?" Elara asked, voice unshaken, full of quiet inquiry.
"The carrier," the pilot replied succinctly, briefly lowering his gaze as he weighed the risks.
"Why not let me off?"
"This… this is an emergency, miss. We don't have time to disembark you… you must come with us," he said, anxious yet trying to assert control.
"Okay," she muttered, the word slipping out with a weary sigh — not out of agreement, but to silence the pounding in her head that flared each time the pilot's voice stabbed through her headset.
The pilot drew a deep breath and pressed the throttle. His heart felt heavy—he knew he had no choice but to obey orders, even though his original mission had been simply to deliver Elara safely to the main city.
----- -- ----
Early evening light slipped through the kitchen window cracks of Victor Sergei's house. Fine dust spun slowly in the air, made visible in the slanting sunbeams.
Victor Sergei walked deliberately to the center of the kitchen, each step steady but heavy. He stopped at a corner, dragging a wooden table aside before prying up a floorboard that looked more worn than the rest. The board came free, revealing a narrow space and a wooden ladder descending into darkness.
Without hesitation he climbed down. The smell of damp earth and rust greeted him. A single, old bulb hung from the ceiling, its yellowing light flickering—just enough to illuminate the small cellar.
In the middle of the room sat a pile of Gibeon stones—power stones now seemingly dead of light. Their surfaces were rough and dusty, some still bearing crusted organic residue—the remnants of thousands from the bellies of the Primals.
Victor stood long before the mound. His breath was slow as his eyes examined each stone, as if making sure every piece remained where it should.
Then, slowly, he looked up. Directly above that cramped chamber—there was Elara Queen's room.
He paused, letting the weak bulb cast shadows across his drawn face.
"My daughter, Legion, will be the one to end you."
---- ---- -----
In the distance, roughly 500 kilometers south of Southern Haven, the sky had become a battlefield. High-speed fighter jets, accompanied by superhumans, launched a fierce assault on something mysterious—a black shadow darting skillfully between the clouds.
Several carriers from the World Alliance, The Radiant Wall, and the Northern Frontier shuddered violently before crashing under the sudden onslaught.
"Mayday! Mayday! We're under attack… we're under attack!" the radio screamed, panic echoing across the entire formation