Twin suns bathed the capital city of Veythar in a golden glow, their light pouring across the sprawling launch grounds where thirty majestic space cruisers stood ready, lined like gleaming titans across the horizon. Each vessel hummed with power, polished to reflect the sky above—verdalian flags fluttering proudly on their hulls, and shimmering force fields dancing like ripples across their exteriors.
A vast crowd had gathered—thousands of citizens dressed in ceremonial attire, their eyes fixed on the towering ships that would carry Verdalia's mission across the stars. From balconies and broadcast screens, families watched, cheered, and waved as the final resources were loaded with mechanical precision. Carts glided silently on magnetic rails, transporting supplies, crates, and fuel canisters into the bellies of the ships. Robots and workers moved as one.
Jason amberdunk
, standing at the forefront of the lead ship Elarian One, clutched his sleek, translucent communication device. The soft blue glow of the screen illuminated his face as it connected him to a private call.
Tina's smile appeared on screen, her eyes shimmering. "You ready?" she asked, brushing her bangs aside. Behind her stood Warren, arms folded, and Max, waving both hands with childlike excitement.
Jason's smile cracked wide. "Hey, hey. Not going to cry on me, are you, Warren?"
Warren huffed. "Why would I cry? Just... don't mess up."
"Good luck, Dad!" Max beamed, his voice filled with wonder. "You're going to be on TV and everything! Will you wave at the camera when you leave?"
Jason chuckled. "Of course, little man. I'll do better—I'll send you a video from space."
Tina's voice softened, "Just… be safe, Jason. It's not just a supply run. We both know how complicated the Lilliput system is. And the Vir Empire—"
"I know," Jason nodded. "But that's why I'm leading it. I won't let anything happen to this crew. Or the people waiting on the other side."
From the broadcast towers high above, the event streamed live across Verdalia. Every major city projected it onto their skyline domes—streets, homes, and temples were filled with spectators. And then, a voice broke across the broadcast:
"This is Director Jonathon Williamson of the Intergalactic Space Cop Division. On behalf of all officers across the galaxy, I salute the people of Verdalia. This mission represents hope, peace, and resilience. May your path remain clear."
Another message followed, this time from a silver-robed man seated on a throne of crystal—Rebellion King Peace.
"To King Jim and the brave citizens of Verdalia: in a time where empires chase power, your kingdom chooses compassion. May your journey bless the Lilliput system—and may the universe remember."
Back on the launchpad, King Jim, in full ceremonial regalia—his robes flowing like silk fire—stepped forward, flanked by golden-armored guards. His voice, amplified through the palace-wide mic system, resonated across the field.
"Citizens of Verdalia," the King announced, his voice deep and steady, "we send thirty ships into the unknown, not for conquest, not for glory, but for aid. These ships carry more than supplies—they carry our heart."
He turned to the main crew gathered at the platform: Jason, Lina the navigator, Captain Shin, Mr. Phill, and the bulky, steel-eyed soldier, Jigo.
"Jason amberdunk," the King said, his eyes locking onto Jason's, "you were chosen not only for your strategy, but for your belief in others. Lead them well."
Jason bowed. "I will, Majesty."
"Lina," Jim continued, "your eyes have guided ships through storms and shadows. Let the stars listen to your hand."
Lina nodded sharply. "Always, Majesty."
"Captain Shin," the King smiled, "no better pilot graces the skies of Verdalia. Make our speed your legacy."
"Understood, Majesty," Shin said, clenching his fist in salute.
"And Jigo…" Jim paused, studying the large warrior, "Verdalia's strength rests in your arms. Guard them well."
"With my life, Your Majesty," Jigo replied, pounding his chest.
With that, the ceremonial horns echoed through the air. Cannons of light burst skyward, fireworks igniting like stars being born. The crowd roared in unity as the ramp to the Elarian One ascended, and Jason gave one last wave to the people, to the screens, to his family watching from home.
A whispered promise carried in the wind: We will return. And we will succeed.
The engines rumbled to life, and as the fleet began its lift-off, the twin suns shimmered against the metallic hulls, making it seem as though thirty stars were ascending into the heaven
The cabin of the lead ship, The Verdalian Spirit, felt like a small piece of the cosmos had been folded into a room. Its curved windows looked out into the void of space, where the twin suns of Veythar cast a golden glow over the galaxy beyond. Soft blue lighting shimmered across the walls, mingling with panels that displayed real-time star charts and mission data. A gentle hum of energy coursed through the ship, a heartbeat for the journey ahead.
Jason sat alone in the private communication chamber—calm and quiet, separated from the bustling crew. A circular glass table glowed with projected controls, and a high-definition hologram screen flickered with a soft light as the connection went through.
In seconds, three familiar faces appeared before him—Tina, with her eyes warm but a touch of worry behind them; Warren, calm and steady as ever; and Max, beaming with excitement.
"Papa!" Max yelled, pressing his face close to the screen. "You're in space!"
Jason laughed. "Hey, my little explorer! Yep, this is our ship. Pretty cool, right?"
Max nodded fast, eyes wide. "It's awesome! It looks like the inside of a comet! Did you already leave our planet?"
"Not yet," Jason replied. "We're about to enter the space corridor soon. Just wanted to see you all before that."
Tina's voice came softly, "We're so proud of you, Jason. All of Verdalia is watching. But to us, you're still just... you."
Jason smiled gently. "I know. I needed to hear your voices before this long journey. It's not just a mission—it's something more. There are people out there with nothing, and if we can be the ones to bring light... then it's worth every step."
Warren nodded, arms crossed. "We'll be fine here. I'll look after them."
Jason gave his older son a grateful nod. "I know you will. I've always trusted you, Warren."
Max looked serious suddenly. "Papa, I'll train hard. Every day. With Master Joe. So when you come back, I'll be stronger."
"That's the spirit," Jason said, voice catching just a little. "But remember—being strong doesn't mean fighting the hardest. It means standing up when others can't. It means protecting."
Tina looked at Jason, eyes glistening. "Be safe, okay? Come back to us."
Jason's hand hovered over the projection, wishing he could reach through it. "Always. You three are my world."
Just then, the ship's intercom pinged:"All personnel to stations. We are entering pre-hyperspace sequence."
Jason glanced toward the door, then back at the screen.
"I have to go. I'll try to call whenever we're in signal range. Max—keep that smile bright. Warren—stay sharp. And Tina... I love you."
The screen began to fade, and Tina whispered, "We love you too. All of us."
The hologram blinked out, and Jason sat in the silence of the cabin for a long moment. Then, with a breath, he stood and turned toward the door, his steps steady and full of purpose.
The stars were waiting.
The twin suns had just begun their climb in the morning skies above Alag, bathing the village and its lush surroundings in a soft amber glow. Max stood near the stone steps of the Amburdunk household, hugging Tina tightly one last time. She knelt down, brushing a lock of hair from his face.
"Go on now," she said with a soft smile. "Master Joe and Rure must be waiting."
Warren gave Max a gentle pat on the shoulder. "We'll be right here, little bro. Train hard."
Max nodded. "I will." He turned, gave one final wave, and with a small backpack slung over his shoulder, pedaled off on his advanced verdalian bicycle.
The smooth, nature-blended roads wound through the village like veins of life—paved with bio-fiber stone and mossy growths that absorbed light and emitted a gentle warmth. Wind turbines shaped like spiraled leaves spun gently in the breeze, and soft hums from underground hydro-cores vibrated beneath the earth, keeping the balance of technology and nature in harmony.
As Max neared the towering Great Tree of Heavens, its massive shadow stretched like a protective hand across the land. The tree stood tall and serene, its leaves shimmering faintly with life energy, as if aware of every soul that approached it.
Rure was already there, performing stretches near the training stones, while old man Joe sipped from a cup of green energy tea, leaning on his walking staff.
Max hopped off his bike and jogged over, his cheeks still flushed with excitement from the morning call.
Joe looked up and smiled. "Ah, the son of a hero returns." He walked over and placed a firm hand on Max's shoulder. "Your father is a brave man. He carries the will of Verdalia on his back today."
Max smiled, shy but proud. "Thank you, Master Joe."
Rure grinned. "I saw your dad on the broadcast! It was amazing. All those giant ships and the king himself saying goodbye!"
Max's eyes widened. "You saw it?"
"Yeah," Rure said with a dramatic pose. "And when I become a Space Cop, I'm gonna be on a mission like that. I'll fly across galaxies and bring justice to the stars!"
Joe chuckled, stroking his beard. "You dream big, Rure—but that's good. Just make sure your fists are as strong as your dreams."
Rure gave a mock salute. "Yes, Master!"
Joe looked at both of them. "Alright then, warriors. We have work to do. Today's meditation will be near the temple, and after that, we'll continue your chakra conditioning."
As the two boys dropped into a seated pose beneath the Great Tree, silence fell over the grove. A gentle breeze whispered through the branches overhead, rustling the sacred leaves like an ancient lullaby.
Max closed his eyes, and for the first time, the stillness didn't feel like a routine. It felt like a step forward.
His father was out there in the stars, helping people. Fighting for good.
And here he was, under the roots of something just as vast and sacred.
Maybe, Max thought to himself, I've found my path, too. Maybe this is the start of my dream.
He opened his eyes, looked up at the Great Tree's towering form, and whispered quietly so only the wind could hear:
"I want to be strong. Strong enough to protect the people I love. Just like Papa."
Joe watched him with a knowing look, then simply said, "Alright. Let's begin.
The sun cast golden beams through the high glass windows of the massive Alag Academy. Its towering halls echoed with the footsteps of hundreds of students, the scent of books and fresh metallic polish lingering in the air. In one of the grand lecture halls, where the ceiling arched like the ribs of an ancient beast, students filed in with energy still buzzing from yesterday's live broadcast.
Professor Elliam, a tall man with silver-rimmed glasses and a soft yet commanding voice, stood at the front. Holographic maps shimmered behind him, displaying stars, planets, and cities—both present and past.
"Today," he began, tapping his finger to bring up a glowing name, "we discuss the history of Verlan."
The room stirred. Max, Rure, and Jimmy sat in the middle row, leaning forward. Around them, students whispered excitedly.
"Sir, isn't Verlan the capital we saw in the broadcast yesterday?" a girl asked.
Elliam shook his head, a hint of solemnity entering his tone. "You're thinking of Veythar, the current capital of Verdalia. It is built in honor of Verlan… the original city. But the real Verlan—the one that stood 200 years ago—was different. It was the soul of Verdalia."
He paused, letting the weight of his words linger. Then he activated another hologram. A majestic city unfolded before their eyes—skybridges arched across silver towers, gardens floated mid-air, and streams of glowing water ran through marble streets.
"Two centuries ago, Verlan was the pinnacle of civilization," he continued, voice dipping lower. "Until it was erased."
Rure's eyes widened. "What happened to it, sir?"
"The Republic of Saturnite," Elliam said grimly. "The only democratic body spanning 22 galaxies. During the great conflict, they deployed a forbidden weapon. One that didn't just destroy buildings—it ruptured the spirit of the land. In one moment, Verlan vanished from the face of the planet. Only ruins remain."
The room fell silent.
Jimmy leaned closer to Max. "How is this even taught so casually?"
"It's not casual," Max replied, his voice quiet but steady. "It's a reminder."
Professor Elliam nodded toward Max. "Exactly. The fall of Verlan changed everything. It's why Verdalia focused on peace, on farming. Why we stopped training warriors. The memory of that loss… lingers."
A moment later, the final bell rang. Students began packing their things, the hum of conversation returning.
Before exiting, Professor Elliam looked at Max. "And Max… a special applause to your father, Jason Amberdunk, for leading this historic mission. Verdalia is proud."
Everyone turned.
Whispers rose.
"Max's dad is Jason Amberdunk?"
"That guy leading the space mission?"
Max stood still. He didn't react.
One student sneered, "So the weakling has a famous father now?"
Another chuckled, "What's he gonna do? Cry like last time?"
Rure turned angrily. "Say that again, I dare you—"
But Max placed a hand on Rure's shoulder, calm.
"No," Max said, eyes locked on the bullies. "Let them talk."
He walked past them, silent but firm, his heart beating steadily.
He wasn't the same boy from yesterday.
And everyone could feel it.