People in this era left room for new ideas. Knowledge was the greatest strength and power. That's why Zoom Multi Corporation Base One thrived—not because of force, but because of the brilliant minds working there. These were educated people who valued knowledge above everything else. They didn't judge. They didn't stigmatize. They listened.
Two minutes later, Delvin stood on the ninth floor, staring at the door to the Inventors and Innovators Department. His heart hammered against his ribs. He wiped his palms on his pants. They were slick with sweat.
'Take it easy, bro. You'll do great.' Zauzo's voice echoed in his mknd.
'Thanks for the support. You're in a good mood today.'
'What's important to you is important to me,' Zauzo said.
'Smart, huh? So why do you play dumb?' Delvin shot back.
Before Zauzo could answer, the doors split open like butterfly wings. General Martins stood in the doorway, his uniform crisp, his expression unreadable.
"Come in, Mr. Dred." He gestured with his right hand.
Delvin's face broke into a smile. His white teeth flashed. "Thank you, sir."
He walked in, trying to match the General's confident stride. His pulse was still racing, but the moment he stepped inside, something shifted. The anxiety drained away.
The room buzzed with quiet energy. People hunched over workstations, their faces lit by hologram displays. Some tinkered with drones. Others adjusted robotic limbs or calibrated gear suits. Test tubes clinked. Machines hummed. The air smelled like solder and ozone.
No one looked up. They were too absorbed in their work. Delvin might as well have been invisible.
He loved it.
General Martins pulled out a chair for him. Three other staff members gathered around—two men and a woman, all wearing lab coats. Their eyes were sharp, assessing.
"Please, Mr. Dred," General Martins said, settling into his own chair. "Give us an overview of your idea. We'll listen and decide if it's worth our resources and time."
Delvin's throat tightened. He swallowed. He glanced at his granator. His nervous habit. Then he straightened his back and looked each of them in the eye.
"Thank you for this opportunity," he began. His voice was steady now. "I've been working on a suit that would let a human run at the speed of light."
One of the men raised an eyebrow.
"This suit would give us an advantage in combat—against fast opponents, or in situations where dodging a bullet or missile could mean the difference between life and death."
The woman leaned forward. "Speed of light?"
"Yes, ma'am."
She exchanged a glance with General Martins. Delvin couldn't read it, but his heart kicked up again. He clenched his fists under the table.
At Blueview Blue Hotel, Mr. Parker stood beside Mr. Ben Devis in the lobby. The afternoon sun slanted through the windows, casting long shadows across the marble floor.
"We've got problems with the electricity at Samfya Blueview Hotel up north," Mr. Parker said, rubbing his temple. "Do you have Delvin's number?"
Ben Devis hesitated. His jaw tightened. "I'm sorry, sir. I don't."
"I really need to reach him." Parker's voice had an edge to it.
"Have you tried asking Jasmine?"
Mr. Parker blinked. "Right. Of course." He pulled out his phone, shaking his head at himself.
'Why didn't I think of her first?'
But when he called, Jasmine didn't have the number either. She'd been waiting for Delvin to call her.
After work, Delvin collapsed into his only chair. His muscles ached. His brain felt fried. The first day had been exhausting—pitching his idea, answering technical questions, defending his calculations. But he'd done it. He'd actually done it.
Now came the hard part.
He stared at his phone. His thumb hovered over Jasmine's contact. His heart was doing that thing again—pounding so hard he could feel it in his throat.
'Just call her. What's the worst that could happen?'
He pressed the button.
The phone rang once. Twice. Three times.
Then her voice came through, smooth and warm. "Hello, this is Jasmine Parker speaking. How can I help you?"
Delvin's chest tightened. His mouth went dry. He remembered the first time he'd heard that voice—room fourteen at Blueview Hotel, around ten at night. It had stopped him in his tracks then, too.
He cleared his throat. Covered the speaker and coughed. Swallowed hard.
"Hello, Jasmine. This is Delvin Dred."
Silence.
For a few seconds, neither of them spoke. Delvin's pulse roared in his ears.
Then Jasmine's voice came back, bright and surprised. "Oh! How are you?"
Relief flooded through him. His shoulders relaxed. She sounded... happy?
"I'm well. And you?"
"I've been fine." Her voice had a lilt to it now, like she was smiling.
Delvin took a breath. 'Now or never.'
"How's your schedule this weekend? Saturday afternoon?"
Another pause. Shorter this time.
"It's flexible," Jasmine said carefully. "What did you have in mind?"
"There's this new place I found recently. I thought maybe you'd like to check it out with me."
"What's it called?"
"Shalom Garden Park."
"I've never heard of it," Jasmine said. "But it sounds interesting."
Delvin's heart was hammering again, but this time it felt good. "I'll pick you up Saturday. 02:30pm?"
Jasmine didn't answer right away. The silence stretched. Delvin's stomach twisted.
"Okay," she said finally.
"It's a date then. I have to go. See you Saturday."
He hung up before she could say anything else. Before she could change her mind.
For a moment, he just sat there, staring at the phone in his hand.
Then he jumped up. "Yes! I did it!" He punched the air, grinning like an idiot. "First move—successful!"
He danced around his tiny apartment, laughing.
On the other end, Jasmine stood frozen in her room. Her hand was pressed to her mouth. Her heart felt like it might burst.
"He just asked me out," she whispered. "He actually asked me out."
A smile spread across her face, so wide it hurt. She spun in a circle, her phone clutched to her chest.
"I have to tell Courtney."
Meanwhile, in the Milky Way Galaxy, five thousand airships cut through the void. Asteroids drifted past. Comets streaked by, trailing ice and dust. Stars burned in every direction—white, blue, red—painting the darkness with light.
Gases swirled in massive clouds, glowing with color.
And in the center of it all, the mother ship moved. It was enormous—three times the size of a blue whale, shaped like some ancient sea creature. Its hull was scarred and pitted from countless battles.
Inside, King Agaganeeyaa sat on his throne. His special forces surrounded him—killers, every one of them. Trained for a single purpose: to take lives.
Next to the King stood Cantaniaa, his right hand. The most loyal. The undefeated.
Agaganeeyaa turned his head. His gold teeth glinted in the dim light. His mouth was a mess of scars, twisted into something that might have been a smile. Or a snarl.
When he spoke, his voice was rough. Hoarse. Like gravel scraping metal.
"Cantaniaa." He paused. "How much longer until we reach Earth?"