They heard the sound before they saw anything — a low, deep hum, growing louder over the plains like a wave moving across stone.
Simon stood with his grandfather at the edge of the main clearing, staring at the sky. Dozens of others were there too — cousins, aunts, old warriors in faded cloaks. Even the grass looked like it was leaning toward the sky, waiting.
Then it came — slicing through the clouds like a blade of light.Lucen's ship.
Its golden hull shimmered as it descended, guided by mana-fins that moved like wings. Heat rippled the air as it landed on the stone pad near the ancestral hall. Dust rose. People murmured.
The ramp lowered with a hiss. Figures walked out — crew in polished flight suits, cloaks in clan colors, weapons easy at their sides. They looked like heroes from old stories.
Then Lucen appeared.
He moved like someone who had mastered both war and wind. His coat flew behind him, part captain, part legend. He was Forged, with more augmentations than most could count — but his eyes were still sharp, still human. The first thing he did was search the crowd.
His eyes found Simon and Halan.
He smiled.
"Father," Lucen said, stepping forward to clasp Halan's forearm. "You're still taller than I remember."
"You still need a haircut," Halan said, gripping his arm with a chuckle.
Lucen turned to his children. Eron stepped up first, already standing like a soldier. They clasped forearms, a quiet moment passing between them. Then Lucen turned to Simon — smaller, quieter — and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"You've grown," he said. "And I see you still know where to stand to see the stars."
Simon gave a small smile.
Then a clear voice spoke behind them.
"I wouldn't miss this."
Heads turned. Lyra stood at the edge of the path, her hair braided with golden thread. Her robe from Dravkar University flowed around her like starlight. She stepped forward, and the crowd moved aside.
"Elowen!" someone shouted. "She's back!"
"Elowen's line burns again!"
A councilwoman raised her voice proudly:"Our Lyra has summoned her first solar flare!"
Gasps followed. Cheers. Even the children knew that name — Solar Flare, the magic of the Gold Star Mage, their great-grandmother. Not seen in generations.
Lucen's smile widened. "So," he said, hugging her, "you didn't just come home. You came home blazing."
"I wanted to tell you myself," she said. "Before you left again."
Lucen held her at arm's length and gave a slow nod — not as a father, but as something older. Someone who carried legacy. Someone who dealt with dangerous things.
The clan celebrated. Food and drink appeared from hidden corners. Fires were lit. Soft music echoed in the clearing.
But after a while, Lucen's mood changed. He whispered something to Halan, then nodded at two elders by the hall entrance. A signal. Quiet. Clear.
The celebration went on, but Lucen slipped away — followed by four council members. The door to the ancestral chamber closed behind them with a heavy sound.
Simon, unnoticed in the shadows, felt his heart beat faster.
He knew that look on his father's face. He had seen it before storms.Not fear. Not joy.Readiness.
Moving quietly, Simon left the edge of the firelight — past barrels, under lights, around the hall. The council chamber had thick walls, but the lattice near the storehouse had a crack, hidden behind vines.
He knelt and listened, holding his breath.
Voices inside. Not shouting, but tense.Something was wrong.And Simon wanted to know what.
"I don't say this lightly," Lucen said. "Something's changing. Out there — in the stars. In the Deadzone."
He paused. Simon imagined him pacing.
"The creatures are different. Bolder. Smarter. They're not just trying to survive anymore. They're hunting. And not just near the edge. They're pushing inward — into known space. Toward us."
Murmurs of concern from the council.
"I've sailed that region for years," Lucen said. "I've seen beasts rip metal apart. But I've never seen them work together. Never seen them pull back and circle. This time… it felt like they were testing us."
He stopped.
"It doesn't feel like evolution. It feels like we woke something up."
Granor's voice came — rough and steady. "And the Alliance?"
"They know something," Lucen said. "I've sent everything. Scans, reports. They act like nothing's wrong. They're hiding it. Or stalling."
"What about Earth?" an elder asked.
Lucen's tone dropped. "The Theocracy is burning. Skirmishes every week. They say we broke something sacred. They're not just angry. They're afraid."
He took a breath. "And then there's Syntarion."
The room went quiet.
"The Machine God has started sending out private messages. Encrypted. Only to its core sectors. Some leaked. Always the same word: Prepare."
He let that word sit in the air.
"It feels," Lucen said, "like we've awakened something we weren't supposed to."
Silence.
Then Halan spoke.
"You should stay, Lucen. You've seen more than any of us. You know what's out there. The sacred cave—"
"—is guarded," Lucen said. "I trust its guardian, just like our ancestors did."
He looked at the council. "But I can't stay. I won't sit behind walls while this builds. I have to find out what's moving. Before it finds us."
He paused. "That's why I came. To warn you. And remind you—we're not helpless."
He stood straighter.
"Lyra is growing stronger. She summoned a solar flare—the same power my grandmother had. But she's not alone. We have Granor. We have warriors trained for this. The clan still has teeth."
"And we have resources. The Gold Star Mage left us a fortune. We've waited long enough."
He tapped the table. "Use it. Train our people. Strengthen our Forged. Upgrade them with the best Syntarion can offer. And yes—get God's Blood."
God's Blood. A red substance taken from the bodies of things called Gods. Huge, strange creatures found mostly in the Deadzone. No two were the same.
No one knew what they really were.Some worshipped them.Some hunted them.All feared them.
Their remains glowed with strange power. Horns that lit up for centuries. Eyes that cried fire after death. Flesh that didn't rot.
Their blood was rare and dangerous. It could make people faster, stronger—even extend life. If their body could take it.
The Forged were something else. A mix of magic and machine. Metal bones. Computation in their nerves. Superhuman minds. Most people died trying. The ones who lived became weapons.
Lucen's voice was clear now. Final.
"If the Gods wake—or if we stirred something older—we won't survive by waiting. We move now. Or we fall."
Simon pulled back from the crack, his heart pounding.
He didn't understand everything.But he understood enough.
The stars were changing.The world was waking up.
And for the first time in his life,Simon realized his father was afraid.