Far across the vast stretches of the Milky Way galaxy, there exists a blue planet known as Ardh Grumma — a world that mirrors Earth in almost every way. Once every few centuries, the planets align in a perfect line with their sun. This rare event is called Rhem (Planetary Alignment.) And in exactly three hours, Ardh Grumma was destined to face it once more.
On the planet's largest continent, Lemuria, deep beneath a pyramid-shaped structure, a woman named Brinirha was in the midst of giving birth. Floating inside a chamber filled with synthetic placental fluid, she focused all her strength on bringing her child into the world. Beside her stood Amnarutta, her devoted husband, maintaining the energy flow required for the ritual.
Birth among the Lemurians was unlike anything known to humankind. The mother must float in the liquid-filled birthing vessel, completely unclothed, wearing a neural helmet laced with energy conduits. The father, too, wore a similar helmet — connected to hers — channeling his life energy into both the mother and unborn child.
The purpose was sacred: the newborn would inherit the combined power of both parents. Brinirha and Amnarutta possessed an energy mastery level of 40% — the average for Lemurians. By comparison, normal humans barely reached 2.5%.
They hoped to complete the process before Rhem began. Once the child was born, the infant would be transferred to the Hub, where sterilization, data transfer, and muscle acceleration would occur. There, robotic tentacles would connect to the baby, implanting the parents' knowledge and enhancing physical development. It was common for Lemurian infants to be born already strong and muscular.
The chamber was empty save for the two of them. No medical staff was present; Lemurians had long mastered self-assisted childbirth through their advanced technology. Normally, the final stage of delivery would be celebrated in a ceremonial gathering — but not today. Every citizen of Lemuria was preparing for Rhem. The streets were silent, the cities emptied, as people sealed themselves indoors.
Suddenly, the entire room shook violently. The vibration rippled through the vessel, spilling the glowing fluid across the floor. Brinirha struggled to stay balanced, splitting her focus between channeling energy, steadying her body, and continuing labor. Her strength was nearly spent.
"My husband… what is happening?"
Her voice echoed not aloud, but directly within his mind — through telepathy.
Amnarutta summoned his Probe, a small hovering orb filled with data archives about every being and every event on Lemuria. Scanning the readouts, his expression darkened.
"This is bad… Rhem is happening right now."
"What? Impossible! It wasn't supposed to occur for another three hours!"
"I know. Our science is advanced enough to predict the fall of a single leaf. Something else must have triggered the Rhem."
Across Lemuria, the Research and Knowledge Center went into alarm. Detection engines screamed. The ground and pyramids quaked. Scientists scrambled to collect new solar data, broadcasting the findings to every citizen's Probe — including Amnarutta's.
The report revealed the cause: approximately 149.669.000 kilometers from Ardh Grumma, an unknown spacecraft had entered the sun's gravitational field — draining its energy. That interference had accelerated Rhem by three hours.
"This shaking… it'll last for forty-five minutes," Amnarutta thought grimly. "We'll have to deliver the child in the middle of it."
Brinirha pushed through the tremors, summoning every reserve of her power. Amnarutta steadied her with his energy link, maintaining balance and focus.
Moments later, the child emerged. The fusion of their combined energy, the synthetic fluid, and the intense magnetic storm caused by Rhem triggered a hyper-acceleration in the baby's mitochondrial development, far beyond normal Lemurian levels.
The infant drifted toward the base of the chamber instead of the transfer hub. Amnarutta reacted instantly, extending his telekinetic field to catch the newborn mid-descent. Slowly, he lifted the baby toward the connecting transfer conduit between the birthing chamber and the accelerator tube.
But the abnormal energy flux created a clash, the child's own newborn aura repelled Amnarutta's control. The baby was pushed downward again. Brinirha out from the tube, took her clothes, and lent her own telekinetic energy to assist. Both parents strained beyond their limits, their bodies trembling under the surge.
Just as they nearly succeeded, the infant's umbilical cord twisted violently — rotating 360 degrees counterclockwise. The parents poured their remaining energy into stabilizing the spin, forcing the baby into the conduit.
Once inside, the sterilization process began — but the conduit wasn't designed to handle such overwhelming power. Cracks formed along the metal tube. Warning alarms blared.
Desperate, Amnarutta and Brinirha combined their energy one last time. With a surge of blinding light, the baby was finally transferred into the second acceleration chamber. Robotic tendrils latched onto its body, initiating data infusion.
But the excess energy from Rhem sent the chamber into overdrive. The baby's learning capacity spiked from the standard 10% to 30%, while mitochondrial acceleration soared to 1.5 times that of an average Lemurian infant. The machinery couldn't handle it.
Another alarm shrieked. The accelerator tube fractured and exploded. The baby was thrown clear.
Amnarutta lunged forward, catching the baby midair. The child's tiny body radiated unstable energy — brighter, fiercer than anything either parent possessed.
The ritual had gone beyond control. They needed to complete the final stage, the energy transfer.
Amnarutta pressed his hand to the infant's back, Brinirha to his chest. Together, they attempted to absorb and stabilize the runaway energy. But the child resisted.
Slowly, the infant lifted from their hands, suspended in midair between them. The transfer, which should have lasted fifteen minutes, reached its breaking point in less than two, before a massive detonation of light erupted.
The parents were thrown backward, but rose swiftly. Amid the debris, their child floated above the shattered floor, the body glowing with pure azure light. Muscles already formed, hair black and wavy, and eyes closed in serenity.
The explosion drew the attention of Lemurians citizens. Twenty of them rushed into the chamber, including Rhamidaar, the supreme leader of their people.
Rhamidaar, tall and powerful with the youthful face of a twenty-one-year-old, gazed in awe. Never in Lemurian history had anyone witnessed a newborn radiating such condensed blue energy.
At last, the baby's eyes opened, glowing with clarity, surveying the crowd that surrounded it.
"What happened?" Rhamidaar's voice resonated telepathically.
Amnarutta and Brinirha quickly explained. The gathered Lemurians understood the gravity of what they were seeing. They joined hands, channeling their collective power to calm the infant's raging energy. Slowly, the azure light was drawn back into the baby's skin. His feet descended until they touched the table. In minutes, the skin tone shifted to the familiar warm hue of Lemurian kind.
Even at rest, the child's body still radiated waves of residual energy. Three Probes attempted to record data, but sparks of electricity struck them down midair.
It took twenty Lemurians, each at 40% mastery, to suppress the newborn's radiation field. Finally, calm returned to the chamber, now in ruins. The conduits lay shattered, but a miracle had been born among them.
The infant's energy level measured at 60%, beyond any Lemurian ever recorded.
Amnarutta and Brinirha turned toward Rhamidaar. It was a rare honor, a birth witnessed by the leader himself. Both parents silently requested that he name their child.
Understanding immediately, Rhamidaar spoke aloud, for Lemurians reserved spoken words only for the most sacred of moments:
"A child born of cosmic convergence, a vessel of power born when the solar rhythm was broken… From this day forth, this child shall be known as… Arkhytirema."