31st October, Space Era Years 100.
Thors Estate, Capital City of Berlyn.
On a winter afternoon, the faint hum of a steam fan turned softly in the corner of the room.Aerys Vilozyver sat upon a tall chair in his mother's study — Lord Aelyzabeth Thors' private chamber.Around him lay piles of government papers and ledgers, their seals glimmering faintly beneath the light.
The eight-year-old boy had no interest in toys or trifles.In his small hands, he held a document from the Council of Ministers' Meeting.His eyes bright red like gems eyes moved line by line — with the calm precision of one who understood every word.
For this was how Aelyzabeth Thors taught her son — not through the childish books of ordinary education, but through the very machinery of governance itself.
The great oak doors opened soundlessly.An elderly woman with white hair, draped in velvet, entered with a gentle smile —Aeria von Thors, mother of Aelyzabeth Thors.
"How are you, Alisu, my dear?"Her voice was soft, yet carried a weight of maternal concern.
Aelyzabeth lifted her gaze from the documents.
"It's nothing, Mother… Aerys was simply a little too rough with his training. No one's hurt."
Aeria sighed faintly.
"Then I am relieved. But don't overwork yourself, my child. The world still turns without us chasing every breath."
"I understand, Mother."
The elder smiled, serene as falling snow, and left quietly.Only the rhythmic ticking of the mechanical clock remained in the still air.
Aelyzabeth turned to her son, who continued reading in silence.
"It's all right, Aerys… You're still my son, no matter what."
The boy lifted his head and nodded once.No words. No smile.Only emptiness — resting in those eyes bright red eyes.
Then came a knock upon the door.
"My Lord — Mister Walther von Ygzorsch, Lady Lea von Ygzorsch, and Lady Aelera von Escheinsen request a private audience."
A brief pause. Then—
"Let them in."
The door opened, and the three nobles entered with elegance befitting their titles.Aerys glanced briefly at his mother, his expression unchanged.
"Aerys, go play chess with Hezock for a while.""...""It's all right — you may play."
The boy rose silently and crossed to the chess table in the corner,where Hezock, the sentient artificial intelligence his mother had designed to educate him, awaited.
On the opposite side of the room, the nobles began their reports.They spoke of The Fryre Guild, which sought emergency funding to produce industrial goods within two months.
Both Lea and Aelera supported the motion, citing labor welfare and national economic stability.Aelyzabeth listened in quiet composure before nodding once.
"Approval granted. Proceed with allocation."
Then Walther von Ygzorsch, Director of the National Propaganda Office,inquired about the direction of a new patriotic film campaign.
Lord Aelyzabeth handed him a single sheet of paper.
"Use this outline. Adjust the dialogues as needed — begin today."
All three nobles raised their right hands in the Thorsian Salute and spoke in unison:
"Heil Aelyzabeth Thors."
They departed, leaving behind only the delicate clack of Hezock's mechanical chess pieces —moving with the precision of a living opponent.
Aelyzabeth turned once more to her son.
"You may stay here, Aerys. I must prepare to welcome your father — he's on his way home."
The boy gave no answer.She smiled faintly, and left the room.
The door closed with a soft click. Aerys set his chess piece down. Light glinted upon his forearm —where the skin had begun to peel.
He stared at it silently, then walked to the desk.Taking up a letter opener, he pressed the blade into the wound.
Blood welled, crimson against his pale flesh.Yet he made no sound.No pain.No tremor.
Only the still, cold eyes of a childwho had long since forgotten how to feel.
And that night —the clock within the Thors Mansion ticked slower than ever before,as though even time itself fearedthe quiet boy who dwelled within.
Thus ends Chapter A-II.