In her cabin that night, Elina couldn't sleep.
The room was small but comfortable. A bed with smooth gray sheets. A desk with a touch-panel screen. A small window with a black curtain she hadn't yet pulled shut. It wasn't luxurious, but it was efficient in the Bernardian style—minimal and precise.
She sat at the desk, opening a file on her university tablet. Her courses: Foundations of Astro-Logic, Comparative Governance, and Human Identity in a Post-Mythical Age. Heavy reading, even for someone like Elina Vi Britannia.
But this was different. It wasn't a dream or theory. It was real. And it was fast.
♦♦♦
Elina awoke not to sunlight through her cabin window—but to a soft chime and a glowing panel beside her bed that read:
"0600 Hours. Rise and Hydrate."
She rubbed her eyes. The air smelled faintly sterile—like clean metal and filtered water. Outside the small window, nothing but open sea met her gaze. No gulls, no sails, no coast. Just dark blue, endless and unmoving.
