The twin suns shimmered over the sprawling capital city, its light reflecting off the majestic towers and skyways of the Verdalian kingdom. Morning fog lifted as the royal palace gleamed like a monument of history and progress intertwined.
Jason stood at the entrance of the palace once again, this time more resolute. Wearing his official mission uniform, he carried with him the detailed plans and logistics required for the journey ahead. As the royal guards bowed, the palace gates creaked open to reveal the grand hall.
Inside, the throne room stretched wide and tall, with towering marble pillars and floating digital displays suspended above the crowd. King Jim sat high on a golden throne, but not far from his people. Despite the majesty of his seat, he was surrounded by an array of high-tech monitors, real-time galactic charts, and an advanced microphone system that relayed his words through the hall’s sonic chambers.
Below the throne, arranged in a crescent behind a low, golden fence, sat the Verdalian ministers—heads of commerce, war, health, science, agriculture, and more—each in a distinctive seat engraved with their sigil. Rows of seats filled with Verdalian citizens flanked the hall beyond the fence, giving the room the air of a council and a public gathering all at once. Guards stood vigil along the perimeter, eyes sharp.
As Jason stepped in, all eyes turned. With a respectful bow, he greeted the king.
“Your Majesty,” he said with firm respect, “I come today with the finalized plan for our relief mission to the Lilliput star system.”
King Jim nodded, gesturing with his hand for Jason to pass through the golden fence and join the inner circle.
As Jason walked to the center, he projected a holographic map of their route in front of the royal council. “As you are aware, the direct route to Lilliput is blocked by what we call the Dead Zone. It’s a treacherous region—no stable navigation paths, extremely high gravitational pull from stray asteroids, warm holes, and micro black holes.”
A murmur rippled through the crowd.
Jason continued, “So, the only viable path is to travel through the Heaven Bridge, a narrow corridor of relative stability that cuts across the Dead Zone. It’s safer, but adds nearly a month to our travel time.”
The king leaned forward. “And you need additional supplies for the crew?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. The extra time means additional food rations, medical support, and fuel reserves. Without it, we risk mid-space depletion.”
At that moment, a small voice rose from the back of the hall.
“Father, what’s a Dead Zone?” asked a young Verdalian boy, his voice innocent and curious.
A chuckle moved through the crowd. The boy’s father, a broad-shouldered farmer, knelt beside him and smiled gently.
“Son,” he said softly, “our universe has over 150 galaxies. Out of them, only about 100 have planets where life can survive. But it’s not easy to travel between them.”
“Why?” the boy blinked.
“Because,” his father continued, “the universe is split into eight massive quadrants, each separated by what we call the Dead Zone. Think of it like space’s version of a jungle—filled with floating stones the size of cities, strange heat wells we call warm holes, and small black holes that can tear a ship apart in seconds. No one dares cross it directly.”
The child’s eyes widened. “So… how do people travel?”
“Ah,” the father smiled, “there’s a path—a narrow road right through that danger. It’s not wide, but it’s stable. We call it the Heaven Bridge. Only the best navigators can guide ships through it.”
Jason turned back to the king and added, “That’s why we’ve assigned Lina as our lead navigator. She’s the only one from Verdalia in current age who’s traversed the Heaven Bridge many times and returned.”
The council nodded in agreement. The weight of the mission was clear to all.
King Jim sat back on his throne, eyes calm but thoughtful. “You’ve planned well, Jason. I see why Tom had such faith in you. You have my approval. The supplies will be arranged and the path cleared.”
Jason bowed deeply. “Thank you, Your Majesty. I will not fail you.”
The hall echoed with respect. From the royal court to the commoners in the back, the people of Verdalia watched the young leader rise with hope and responsibility on his shoulders.
The countdown to the mission had truly begun.
As the official meeting concluded, King Jim rose from his throne with a warm, charismatic smile. “Come,” he said, gesturing to Jason and his crew, “you’ve all traveled far and carry great responsibility. Tonight, we feast in your honor before the journey begins.”
The golden doors behind the throne swung open, revealing a banquet hall unlike anything Jason had seen in Alag. Vast and opulent, the hall shimmered with crystalline lights embedded into the ceiling, resembling stars. A holographic sky swirled gently overhead, mimicking the cosmos.
Long tables of gleaming obsidian were adorned with steaming platters of food, the aromas already making Jigo’s nose twitch. “Now this,” he muttered, “is what I signed up for.”
Jason chuckled softly as he walked alongside Lina, Captain Shin, Mr. Phil, and Jigo into the hall. Servants in silver Verdalian dress uniforms moved gracefully, offering drinks that glowed faintly—Seren Nectar, a rejuvenating juice extracted from the Seren fruit trees of southern Verdalia, known for its citrus-sweet burst and mood-lifting effect.
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Plates arrived, carrying a range of vivid dishes:
- Zyra Rolls – thinly wrapped leafy greens stuffed with hotspice root and moonfish, grilled to perfection.
- Skyfire Kebabs – charred chunks of space beast meat marinated in crimson peppers that flared briefly on the tongue.
- Cloudmelt Cakes – airy, soft pastries topped with stardust syrup, each bite evaporating like vapor.
- Rath Leaves Brew – a mild, earthy tea brewed from a plant that only grew in the fog valleys of Verlan, said to calm the nerves before battle.
- And finally, Orbfruit Slices – spherical blue fruits that pulsed gently on the plate, known to spark bursts of energy in the tired and weary.
As the team sat down, Lina carefully sliced her Zyra Roll and tasted it, letting out a satisfied sigh. “Now this is the taste of a royal kitchen.”
Captain Shin, ever the serious one, took slow, measured bites. “Nutrition balance... 8.7 out of 10. Spicy component slightly overdone. Still, commendable.”
Jigo, by contrast, was a beast. He piled Skyfire Kebabs onto his plate like a mountain. “I’m going to need this protein when we’re out there—facing void storms and stubborn nobles!”
Mr. Phil raised a glass of Seren Nectar and toasted gently, “To the success of our trade diplomacy and safe passage across the heavens.”
Jason, meanwhile, leaned back for a moment, watching his crew laugh and eat. The weight of the coming journey sat on his shoulders, but the moment of peace was something he allowed himself to cherish.
After everyone had eaten their fill, King Jim stood once more at the front of the hall, lifting a goblet filled with glowing golden liquid.
“Brave travelers,” he said, voice strong and regal, “you are about to enter the heavens for one of the noblest tasks—bringing sustenance and hope to a star system left behind. I have personally ensured that all logistics and equipment requested by Minister Louis and Captain Shin are packed, double-checked, and installed.”
He turned his eyes to Jason. “You are young, but you hold within you the strength of generations. Tom sees it. I see it.”
Jason nodded with quiet determination.
Jim continued, “Our top 30 Verdalian cargo ships await you. Each of them is equipped with semi-light speed capabilities, bio-suspension chambers, galactic GPS navigators, and radiation shields strong enough to pass through the Heaven Bridge unharmed. You will reach the Lilliput system in just under three months. And with your crew’s size and organization, the supplies can be fully distributed across the 10 habitable planets in just one more month.”
The room quieted as his tone grew serious.
“You must avoid the territories of the Vir Empire. They may claim neutrality, but their eyes are always watching. Your path is diplomatic, not combative. Return safely, all of you. Verdalia waits for you.”
A round of applause and cheers followed. Even the guards smiled faintly, some tapping their armor in silent salute.
As the feast wound down, Jason and his crew each stood, bowing one last time to the king before they left the hall. Outside, night had fallen. The 30 space freighters stood on the launch platform at the edge of the city like silent giants, each one illuminated beneath the twin moons of Verdalia.
Tomorrow, they would fly.
The twin moons of Verdalia cast their silver glow gently across the quiet village of Alag, bathing the Great Tree of Heavens in ethereal light. Its massive canopy shimmered softly, each leaf reflecting the moonlight like a million stars suspended above the land.
Beneath this living monument, a small gathering sat in peaceful comfort. Max, Rure, and Jimmy sat cross-legged on soft mats made from flora silk, while Joe, their mentor, leaned casually against the tree’s wide trunk, sipping from a wooden cup. Plates of warm Verdalian food sat before them—fragrant steam rising into the cool night air.
On one plate was Moonroot Mash, creamy and rich, paired with Spicefern Rolls, crisp and tingling on the tongue. Another platter held Glowberry Rice, tiny bioluminescent berries mixed with fluffy rice that twinkled in the dark like tiny constellations. A side of Charblossom Chips—snappy, salty petals from a local plant—provided a crunchy bite.
Rure was the first to break the peaceful silence.
“Master Joe,” he said between bites, “I really don’t get it. Why are we meditating every day if we’re also doing combat training? Shouldn’t we just fight more if we want to get stronger?”
Joe chuckled, shaking his head. “Oh, my dear Rure,” he said, voice patient and wise, “the path to real strength begins with balance. We’re not training just your body—we’re trying to awaken your inner energy, your soul.”
He set his cup down and continued, “For the next one month, we’ll keep doing what we did today. One hour of meditation and yoga… followed by one hour of combat training. Day in and day out. Through that repetition, through the rhythm, something deeper opens.”
Rure sighed dramatically. “So basically… boring stuff again and again.”
Jimmy laughed, shoving a mouthful of rice into his mouth. “You complain every time, but you’re always the first one to show up.”
“Hey!” Rure shot back, mock offended. “That’s called dedication.”
Joe grinned and turned his gaze to Max, who had been unusually quiet. “What about you, Max? How’s school going? You haven’t said a word all evening.”
Jimmy leaned closer and nudged him playfully. “Yeah, you’ve been staring at the tree like it owes you money.”
Max looked up slowly, his voice thoughtful and soft. “I don’t know,” he said. “I was just wondering… how can a tree this big even exist? I mean, it’s not just tall—it feels alive. Like… I don’t know, like it’s watching us. Or listening.”
The other boys went quiet, staring up at the colossal tree that towered into the sky like a natural cathedral.
Rure rolled his eyes. “Oh my my, Max has questions about trees while I’m worrying about punches to the face.”
Joe raised a hand gently. “Leave him, Rure. What Max feels… isn’t wrong.”
He paused, his eyes growing distant as if peering through time itself. “This tree is indeed special. It wasn’t just planted… it was harvested by Ankrit himself. The Father of the Universe. That was over 100 centuries ago.”
The boys sat straighter, listening with rapt attention as the old space cop continued.
“Back then, Verdalia was dying. Drought had swallowed the planet. No food, no water. Not just in Alag, but across all continents. The soil cracked. People cried. And Ankrit… he planted this tree. One sapling, in the very center of Alag.”
Joe’s voice softened. “It took thirty years for it to grow. Just thirty. And when it bloomed, rivers returned. Rain fell. Crops flourished. Verdalia started to breathe again. And ever since, no matter how bad things get, this tree still gives. Even now, when over 70% of habitable planets across the universe suffer from drought and famine, Verdalia shares its resources freely.”
He pointed to the glowing leaves above them. “This tree is the soul of Verdalia. And the man who planted it… is why we revere Ankrit as more than a warrior. To us, he is a god.”
Max’s eyes were wide. “And… that’s why the temple is at the center of it.”
Joe nodded. “Yes. The stone you see there, the idol—it’s a piece of the very rock he sat on when he first meditated beneath this tree. Temples were built in his honor all across the planet.”
Rure looked up, a bit more serious now. “So Verdalians used to be… warriors?”
Joe smiled faintly. “Indeed. Two hundred years ago, Verdalians were among the greatest warriors in the known universe. One of the twelve ancient tribes. But then… a bitter war. Too many losses. Our kings chose peace. They asked us to farm, to grow, to nurture rather than fight.”
He stood slowly, brushing off his cloak. “But the energy is still here. In the ground. In this tree. And in you.”
Max and Rure looked at each other. Something stirred in their hearts—something old and deep, like a voice whispering from the roots of the world.
Joe turned to them, eyes glinting beneath the moons.
“Alright,” he said. “No more stories tonight. Sit. Breathe. Connect.”
And so, beneath the silver moons, lit by the soft glow of the ancient leaves, Max and Rure closed their eyes. The world around them faded, and the hum of life—subtle, rhythmic, and eternal—rose up from the soil.
They were not alone. They never had been.
Thank you for reading! In this chapter, I wanted to explore not just the mission ahead but the deeper roots of the characters' world—both literally and spiritually. Whether it’s the glow of a banquet hall or the silence beneath an ancient tree, every scene is a thread in the larger tapestry of this universe. I appreciate each of you who’ve made it this far. Your support means the world.
More adventure awaits in the next chapter—see you there! ??