Date: July 3, 2027
The dawn was dense, almost motionless.
The air seemed to hold the world's breath.
The farm lights went out for the last time. There were no goodbyes, no dramatic words. Only a profound silence, as if even the earth knew there would be no return.
Iker carried two tightly closed backpacks and a small suitcase. They didn't need anything else. Everything else—technology, food, tools, defenses—already awaited them on the other side of the sea. Every step had been planned.
Alma wore simple, neutral clothing, but her bearing was dignified and determined. She carried Dana, sleeping in a baby carrier. Alex, more awake, carried his inseparable blanket and a small book with dinosaurs. His large eyes looked down at the ground with the innocent solemnity of someone who knows something important is happening, but can't quite name it.
A black pickup truck, without a license plate, appeared at 5:03 AM in front of the entrance. The driver didn't speak. It was Kara-H1, her face emotionless, her hands firm on the wheel. She drove as if she knew every curve before reaching it, guided every second by Eidolon.
They traveled in complete silence.
They crossed secondary roads, empty fields, routes that no longer existed on modern maps. Finally, they reached an old, abandoned port, hidden by coastal vegetation. There, a stealthy hydrofoil awaited them, its surface matte, unmarked, its electric motors sealed, and its cabin soundproofed.
Iker helped Alma climb carefully aboard. Alex didn't ask any questions. Dana remained asleep.
The engine started with a whisper. And then... they set off.
They sailed for hours undetected.
The continental coastline disappeared into the dawn haze. As the sky grew bluer, the ocean also changed, becoming ever more vast and impersonal. But then, through the mist... a silhouette emerged.
First it was a shadow. Then, a profile.
Tzabek Island.
From a distance, it looked pristine. A natural sanctuary covered in jungle, surrounded by hidden reefs. But Iker knew the truth. Beneath that vegetation, his work awaited them.
The hydrofoil descended over an inland lagoon, where a hidden ramp emerged among the trees. The bay opened up to the craft like a living organism. Camouflaged sensors instantly identified Iker's face. The hatches deployed without a single squeak.
Alma descended slowly, with Dana still asleep. She breathed deeply.
"It smells... different," she said.
"It's the first place where nothing was imposed on us," Iker whispered. "All of this... I built it for us."
They walked on an elevated path, made of translucent materials that blended into the surroundings. There were no poles, no cables, no visible signs. Only nature... and below, systems that no one on the surface could detect.
In the background, partially hidden by the treetops, the Arkalis Command Center emerged.
It wasn't a conventional skyscraper.
It had no corners.
Its shapes were curved, as if sculpted by the sea wind and the logic of an algorithm.
Black glass with autosolar properties, organically reinforced steel, self-healing panels.
It was... beautiful. Strange. Imposing.
An android greeted them at the entrance, with gentle gestures and a blank stare.
The lobby lit up with a dim golden light. Eidolon's voice emerged, now soft, almost human:
"Welcome to Tzabek Island. Family facilities adapted for the Ayala core. Complete security. Energy autonomy established. The home... is ready."
Alex hugged Iker for the first time that day. Alma stroked Dana's hair.
They went up to the 14th floor.
The family module was warm, quiet, intelligent. There was no unnecessary decoration.
Everything responded to them.
The children's room projected oceanic shapes.
The kitchen, silent, was stocked with personalized menus.
The dining room chairs were precisely aligned.
But one of them... had a small dinosaur doll already placed there. As if someone knew Alex would leave it there.
Alma walked around the place slowly, taking in every detail.
"Will we live here?"
"Yes," Iker said firmly. "Here we don't owe anyone anything.
Here... we are free."
For a moment, Alma's eyes filled with tears. She didn't cry, but she didn't hide her emotion either.
"It seems... incredible."
"It was," he replied. "But not anymore. Now it's real."
Hours later, Iker ascended alone to the top floor: the observation deck.
From there, the island unfolded like a living map.
The hidden energy towers. The automated landing pads.
The underground factory pulsing like a mechanical heart.
Everything was working. Everything was ready.
Kara-H1 appeared behind him, like a weightless shadow.
"Shall we activate the next phase?"
Iker didn't respond immediately. He closed his eyes.
He felt the warm wind.
The song of real birds.
The vibration of the world he himself had created, but not yet conquered.
"No. Not today.
Today... I just want to watch the world begin."