“Homeland Security stated that they were conducting a full investigation, pleased that rogue hostile units had slipped through defensive lines and lay low. The Special Investigator stated that the enemy agent found those who might be sympathetic toward the Unity to learn about Earth culture; however, no names were mentioned.

  As the nation was still healing from the sudden terrorist attack, the mood had shifted from fear to revenge, with three online polls showing strong support for intervention since last week. However, the effects still linger as most parents kept their children home and mass callouts for work across the nation.

  With the nation still healing from the attacks and coming to terms with the fact that life exists outside our solar system (to which we are at war with), a small point of brightness was seen at the bombing sites. With military and other government personnel occupying Colorado Springs, a small girl stopped by one of the hotel shrines – a hastily built structure to honor the victims – and laid flowers and offered a silent prayer.

  Princess Assiaya, head of state of the newly recognized Velunara Protectorate, came to Earth to meet high government officials to form a formal treaty. The White House believes that this was the primary objective of the enemy terrorist attacks, with the President stating that his administration will not bow to cowardice in the face of this grave threat and will stand behind the Protectorate with military and economic means.

  With our understanding of the world changing by the minute, but one thing is clear. We are at war.” – Indie News

  May 16th, 2069 (military calendar)

  Salva, Velunara Protectorate

  Nevali Region, Aldrida, Alagore

  *****

  Natilite stared up at the three crystal bulbs hanging from the ceiling—one clear, another green, and the last purple—casting their gentle hues across the steamy bathhouse.

  She had bathed in dozens of temples, hundreds of times, but never like this. Everything around her—glowing bulbs, processed steam, the humming stones beneath the floor—reminded her of Earth. The familiar ritual now felt strangely alien.

  She had done these things all her life without question, yet now she couldn’t stop comparing them. Both worlds had created innovation, but their choices—their values—were worlds apart.

  It wasn’t just the technology that stunned her; it was how it was used. Cars, for example. The concept existed on Alagore, but only as rare military constructs or luxury novelties for the aristocracy. Too complex, too costly. Even nobles still relied on carts and wagons. But in Altaerrie? Everyone had them. Their constructs weren’t reserved for the elite—they flowed throughout their society.

  Everything was different, and yet… it was the same. Natilite couldn’t decide which was better—or if that question even mattered.

  But that wasn’t the only thing clouding her thoughts. The recent events on Earth—General Sherman, the Princess, the American politicians, and the Unity agent—gnawed at her. She had always known Unity’s reach was vast, but never imagined they could infiltrate the United States.

  Hackett had shown her the surveillance footage and briefed her on current theories. She had nothing to add—this was the first she had heard of it. What disturbed her more was the General’s growing suspicion about Assiaya. Natilite and Ryder had discussed that before quietly—after Kallem’s last attempt. There was something… different about the girl.

  A warm splash broke her thoughts. That was when she noticed a large bubble of heated water dropping onto her head, bursting across her face. She sputtered and shook her head, blinking water from her eyes. In the corner of the spa, Fraeya and Assiaya giggled behind cupped hands.

  “What was that for?” she asked flatly.

  “It was her idea,” Fraeya said, pointing at the Princess.

  Assiaya gasped in betrayal. “No, it was her!”

  Natilite gave them both a narrow-eyed stare, but their smiles softened her annoyance. After what Assiaya had endured facing the Unity agent, the girl deserved some joy.

  “Sorry,” Fraeya said. “We called your name a few times.”

  Natilite wiped a strand of wet hair from her cheek and gave a half-smile. “Just… my time on Earth,” she replied.

  Fraeya nearly bounced out of the bubbling water in excitement, then settled back into the foam. “I’ve been dying to ask—how did you two feel about your first visit to Altaerrie?”

  “I do not know,” Assiaya said. “They have so many luxury goods in their stores. Even the Grand Mall at Court cannot compete. I was overwhelmed.”

  “They have so much stuff,” Fraeya agreed. “And everything glows. I thought magitech was glowy, but their tech has little blinking dots everywhere. So exciting!”

  “If I recall,” Natilite said, “you got something called… a pet?”

  “Yes!” Fraeya beamed. “He’s so lovable.”

  “It is called a cat?” Assiaya asked, tilting her head.

  “Yes, I think,” Fraeya said. “Anyway, he zooms around my home, climbs everything—and most importantly, he licks himself.”

  “He licks himself?” Assiaya asked, eyes wide.

  “Yes. It’s so adorable.”

  “I still do not understand Altaerrie’s obsession with these animals,” Natilite admitted.

  “That’s what I thought too,” Fraeya replied. “But then, when I went to bed, he crawled into my arms and cuddled with me all night.”

  “I want one,” Assiaya said, turning to Natilite. “Why do we not have pets?”

  “I do not know,” Natilite responded. “Some nobles keep animals similar to that, but I suspect the idea never caught on among plebes.”

  “What did you like?” Fraeya asked.

  “I liked all the jewels,” Assiaya said with a shy smile. “I wanted to buy the entire store. I always saw others enjoy them… and they made me feel so pretty.”

  Natilite giggled. The Princess’s awkward pride was endearing. “I’ll admit, I enjoyed the sheer volume of goods. A husband could go broke in their clothing section.”

  “I thought the same!” Fraeya said. “The food, the lights, even the buildings—everything was different. And that was only a medium-sized city!”

  “What fascinated me most were the airplanes,” Assiaya said. She stood up, grabbed a bar of soap, and mimed it flying like an airliner. “Ellen, Rosanhi, and I watched them take off and land for hours from our balcony.”

  “I told you!” Fraeya said. “Same here. They mastered flight before the Unity. That still shocks me.”

  “I cannot wait to ride one,” Assiaya added.

  Natilite had to admit, the Altaerrie airships were a sight to behold. Watching the Air Force in action had been humbling. For the first time, Unity had faced real dogfighting. The Americans had created an entire system to transport masses through the skies—something Hispana, Thali’ean, or the Aristocracy could only dream of.

  “Do you think they’ll let us go back?” Assiaya asked.

  “They’ll have to,” Fraeya said. “There’s so much to see. Father could spend a lifetime there and still be confused. Who knew lacking magic would change history so much? I wish he was here…”

  The Princess swam over and hugged her wood-elf friend. “I understand,” she said gently. “I missed my father, too.”

  The elf returned the embrace before turning to the Templar. “What about you, Natilite? You’ve been quiet.”

  Natilite leaned back into the hot, fragrant water and sighed. “I enjoyed it. I just wish I could have seen more of the city. They were very… controlling for a free people.”

  “I think they were just trying to protect us,” Fraeya said.

  Natilite nodded. The protests hadn’t consumed the city, but the tension was thick. National Guard deployments, police barricades, crowd control weapons… It was alien to her. On Alagore, unrest only came during famine, corruption—or conquest. Freedom didn’t usually provoke unrest.

  But the United States was Altaerrie’s superpower—a three-hundred-year-old republic. Short by Alagorean standards, but worthy of respect. She didn’t want to pass judgment too quickly.

  Still, it frustrated her. She had come to a new world—possibly the origin of all humans—and been denied a truly authentic experience.

  She pushed that aside and turned to Assiaya. “I know you had an interesting time.”

  The Princess smiled. “I got the treaty signed. And I earned their respect.”

  “There’s that,” Natilite said with a smirk.

  “I still don’t get why the treaty matters,” Fraeya said.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  “It’s politics,” Natilite explained. “The Americans are tying themselves to Assiaya’s kingdom.”

  “Pro-tect-or-ate,” Assiaya corrected. “They avoid terms like vassal or kingdom. Something about PR.”

  Natilite rolled her eyes. Of course it was about PR. The Americans needed a palatable story—a brave little Princess resisting a crusade and asking for help. It made their involvement easier to sell.

  Still, something about the situation left her uneasy. All her life, she’d never imagined interacting with another human species. She once thought a single-species world would be simpler—but without other peoples to balance the Altaerrie, maybe it made things more fragile.

  “Do you think that’s why Unity attacked?” Fraeya asked.

  “That’s what Sherman believes,” Assiaya said, folding her arms. “All I know is that it was terrifying.”

  Seeing the fear return to her face, Natilite pulled Ryder’s daughter close and wrapped her in a protective hug. “You’re safe now,” she whispered.

  “I must say,” Fraeya added, her voice gentler, “you were brave. I’ve never heard of anyone at the Academy facing something like that.”

  “I said the same,” Natilite agreed. “Only theory I have is maybe Unity discovered genetic augmentations.”

  “Like Templars?” Fraeya asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I thought that was a secret?”

  “It is. Only a few in the Temple of Hevera know.”

  “Then… Unity’s making Templars?” Assiaya asked, brow furrowed.

  “I don’t believe so,” Natilite replied. “I’ve only encountered traitors—what we call Teivel.”

  “Maybe the Teivel gave Unity the secrets?” Fraeya proposed.

  “I considered that. It’s possible they stole Hevera’s injection serum designs, but nothing in the Altaerrie footage supports that.”

  “I see,” Fraeya said thoughtfully. “Ben said Altaerrie developed limited augmentation tech. Maybe Unity made their own, combined with advanced magitech.”

  Natilite nodded. That much was true. After two decades of war, the Coalition still knew shockingly little about Unity. Their tech was superior. Their government was mysterious. Even their species composition was uncertain.

  She had told Hackett everything she knew. But there was one mystery he and Captain Ryder still wanted her to ask about.

  “Assiaya,” Natilite said carefully. “General Sherman told me you were the one who uncovered the impostor plot.”

  “I did,” Assiaya said proudly.

  “That must’ve been intense,” Fraeya said, hugging her. “I’ll never forget the first time I saw combat. I was scared and felt useless.”

  “Assiaya,” Natilite asked gently, “how did you feel?”

  “It’s okay to share,” Fraeya added.

  Assiaya looked down at the water, her face uncertain. “I don’t know. I just… talk to myself.” She glanced up nervously. “Do… do you two talk to yourselves?”

  Natilite blinked. It wasn’t what she expected. But before she could respond, Fraeya jumped in.

  “All the time!” she said brightly. “I think the Altairrians call it monologuing. It’s how they process thoughts.”

  “Oh…” Assiaya murmured. “I thought I was different.”

  “There’s nothing different about you,” Fraeya said firmly. “Isn’t that right, Natilite?”

  Natilite smiled faintly. She wasn’t sure what Assiaya meant—it felt deeper than simple monologuing. But this wasn’t the moment to press. Fraeya’s raw compassion was doing more good than any interrogation.

  She swam toward the Princess and gently placed her hands on the girl’s small shoulders.

  “You’ve been a brave little girl,” she said softly. “You’ve endured more than most. You deserve love. We’re all here for you. And remember—you are never alone.”

  “Thank you,” Assiaya whispered.

  As the Princess leaned into her, Natilite let the warmth of the spring wrap around them all. For now, the war felt far away.

  *****

  Leaning against the balcony wall, Mathew Ryder stared out at the gas giant Tekali, taking in its surreal beauty. The purplish glow of Aetherium gas shimmered within its vast atmosphere.

  When the Americans first arrived on Alagore, astronomers were baffled by Tekali's dark blue-purple hue, especially considering its proximity to the sun. Back in the Sol System, Jupiter appeared brighter, and the further planets grew dimmer. But Tekali defied that trend. Though the properties of Aetherium gas remained a mystery to Earth science, NASA had concluded it was responsible for the unusual coloration.

  Ryder had found the conclusion amusing. The report implied that Sol's dynamics were the universal norm—as if the rest of the cosmos would conform to Earth’s standards. But this wasn’t Sol. This was Dorash, Alagore’s sun. The assumption was just another unconscious bias—something this war had begun to shake out of his people. Especially in the wake of the Unity terrorist attacks in Colorado and the impersonation of Colonel Fraser.

  “Master,” Ceka said, interrupting his thoughts. “Your drink.”

  Ryder turned to see his Head Maid, her disciplined smile tinged with joy. He took the offered beer with a quiet thanks. The neko bowed politely and returned inside, having already served the other two officers seated on the balcony.

  Ryder tossed another wood log into the firepit—the flames were getting low. Then, turning back, he listened as Colonel William Hackett, his mentor, spoke with General Sherman. Hackett was debriefing him on the recent extraction mission involving the Hispana Legion.

  The recovery had taken days—airlifting nearly twenty thousand soldiers from the Hastsano Gap to Salva. Comanche and allied forces had held Orackoo for three days straight.

  It was a brutal, shifting campaign—beginning on the ground and moving to the skies. After the first day, the Worathig Confederacy pulled out, abandoning what was left of the Unity Battlegroup under a relentless barrage of missile strikes. That didn’t end the fight, though. The battlefield merely moved upward, into the clouds, as the Unity and American air forces clashed for the first time in history.

  How much the zealots understood about U.S. air power was still unclear. Their intelligence operations were more competent than anyone expected. Still, the first major air engagement of the war had been an American victory.

  As the evacuation progressed, the enemy deployed more airships, forcing the U.S. to commit its limited Alagore-based aircraft. Skirmishes and dogfights broke out. Both sides took hits. The native scope detection devices, capable of tracking physical movement visually at extreme ranges, made American stealth tech far less effective.

  Though the U.S. Air Force maintained air superiority over the evacuation zone, it came at a price—two manned and five unmanned aircraft lost. One drone was downed by AA fire. Meanwhile, the Unity lost four Riffers, three Akilla, and four Orgat airships.

  Then came the third day—and with it, the Light Night.

  It wasn't true darkness, but intel suggested that Unity scopes struggled in dimmer conditions. The Americans, with their superior radar, saw an opportunity.

  Four F-84 Rexes and eight MQ-19 Ghost stealth UAVs engaged a dozen enemy airships. By dawn, they had inflicted heavy damage—destroying three artillery positions and crippling a Dragoon gunship, all while losing just one drone, illuminated in the moonlight.

  Experts agreed: the U.S. had found a tactical edge.

  “I do want to say,” Sherman broke in, “The Tzar was pleased with your performance. Extracting an entire Legion and making contact with Hispana—five months ahead of schedule—that’s exactly the morale boost we needed after the terrorist attacks.”

  “Good thing it happened when it did,” Ryder said. “The enemy was going for the kill. If it weren’t for our air cover, we’d be dragging bodies.”

  “I don’t believe in luck,” Hackett said. “Faith and determination win wars.”

  “I’ll have to disagree,” Sherman said with a chuckle. “But still—your Minutemen have been at the forefront. You've done one hell of a job.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Hackett replied.

  “I mean it. We're winning this war because of the Minutemen. That’s why I’m moving Minutemen operations to VII Corps. And I’m authorizing two more squadrons. You’re my spear now.”

  “We are here to serve, sir,” Hackett said with pride.

  Ryder could feel it—his mentor’s pride, fully earned. The Minutemen had turned battles, secured allies, and raised morale. They had made first contact with Hispana, led key rescue ops, and disrupted critical supply lines.

  Satisfied, Ryder looked back up at the stars.

  “You really enjoy that view,” Sherman noted.

  “Yes, sir,” Ryder said. “Still not used to it.”

  “The Templar and Captain spend late nights discussing the local religion,” Hackett added.

  “It’s important to these people,” Ryder said. “And to my daughter. I’m trying to learn for her sake.”

  “Good,” Sherman said. “She might be the Head of State, but I want you involved too. Speaking of—which bathhouse is the Princess at?”

  “She’s with Natilite and Fraeya. They’re relaxing. I also asked Nat to look into your request.”

  “Good. The kid’s earned it.”

  “I heard she caught the politicians off guard,” Hackett said. “Wish I could’ve seen that.”

  “Oh, she did,” Sherman grumbled. “Less amusing in the moment. Was that little stunt planned? Or did Yeldan go rogue?”

  Ryder initially wanted to say Yeldan acted alone. That the Wood Elf had used his absence to force a political wedge during the summit. But when Yeldan returned to Salva, he’d been upfront—he took full responsibility, driven by a need to protect the legitimacy of Assiaya’s rule. Especially after the CIA had tried to bribe him.

  Yes, the elf had acted on his own—but it was out of loyalty. And Ryder wasn’t about to throw a loyal advisor, or a family member, under the bus for politics.

  Even if it wasn’t the ideal approach, the outcome was something to be proud of. His daughter had shown strength. And Ryder had come to see just how deeply Varitan Yeldan believed in the family he served.

  “While we wished for formal negotiations,” Ryder said at last, “I stand by Yeldan.”

  “When Colonel Hackett proposed this arrangement,” Sherman said, “I thought we had an understanding.”

  “I assume you disciplined him?” Hackett asked. “You can’t have staff freelancing.”

  “No, sir. He did exactly what an advisor should do. I won’t punish him for protecting my daughter.”

  “We had a deal,” Sherman said. “I back your family. You coordinate with me.”

  “That’s true, sir,” Ryder replied. “But I won’t discipline a man who rejected a CIA-backed coup and shielded Assiaya in my absence.”

  “Hold on,” Hackett cut in. “You said CIA?”

  Sherman’s frustration was clear. “You sure about that?”

  Ryder watched both men react with surprise. Clearly, Sherman hadn’t known. The General supported the motuia system to avoid cultural offense—but likely never expected it would be used to shield against his own government.

  Sherman took a long drink, scowling. “Seems we all have room for improvement. From now on, we stay aligned.”

  “Understood, sir.”

  “Now—this Legion?”

  “The term ‘Legion’ was more conceptual,” Ryder said. “But yes. Salva’s militia isn’t equipped to handle threats. I don’t want us to rely on other cities. We must be able to fight side by side—not be carried.”

  “I appreciate that,” Sherman said. “But you should’ve come to us first.”

  “I agree, sir. It wasn’t meant to bypass you. Before I was recalled, we were still in the brainstorming phase.”

  “Where did the idea come from?” Hackett asked. “The militia’s improved a lot.”

  Ryder looked at his beer bottle, remembering the horrors he saw weeks ago.

  “When we pushed north, we came across a village. Leaflets everywhere, pledging loyalty to my family. They wanted protection. Unity executed them all.”

  He took a slow breath. Hackett reached out, placing a comforting hand on Ryder’s shoulder.

  “As I said,” Ryder finished, “just brainstorming.”

  As the men emptied their drinks, Ceka returned, gathering bottles and distributing fresh ones. She bowed professionally before exiting. Ryder, used to her presence in private, still felt a twinge of guilt being waited on in front of his superiors.

  “To change the subject,” Sherman said. “Have you noticed anything strange about your daughter?”

  “Strange? Besides being trapped with a dead Vampire Princess, being far too formal, political assassinations, and outmaneuvering adults in debate? Gotta love public education.”

  “Matt,” Hackett sighed. “Be serious.”

  Ryder didn’t need more prompting. “Short answer—yes.”

  “So, we all agree,” Hackett said. “Assiaya isn’t just a normal human girl.”

  Sherman nodded. “Have you seen anything specific?”

  Ryder stared into the fire, recalling that night on the city wall.

  “After we pushed back the Aristocracy at the siege’s end—I saw something. Ghostly. Calling me. It was faint, but I followed it—and found her.”

  “I remember,” Hackett said. “The doctor chalked it up to emotion.”

  “So did I,” Ryder admitted.

  “You still believe that, Colonel?” Sherman asked.

  “Not at all,” Hackett replied. “She walked into those tunnels like she knew exactly where the Tornlado Knights were breaching.”

  Sherman nodded. “At the summit, she sensed something off about the impostor. Somehow, she knew. I don’t know how.”

  “Matt?” Hackett asked.

  “I’ve felt it from the beginning,” Ryder said. “Why would Kallem—the Lord of the Aristocracy—care so much about a twelve-year-old girl? Even if she’s royal, they hate Lats. But he hunted her. Treated her as property. Something’s not right.”

  “He knows something,” Hackett muttered.

  “Why haven’t you reported this?” Sherman asked.

  “I have no proof,” Ryder said. “Just feelings. Too many questions, not enough answers.”

  “Then talk to her,” Sherman said.

  “I’m not sure that’s wise,” Hackett cautioned. “Push too hard, and she might close off.”

  “I agree,” Ryder said. “Our relationship is still new. I’m gone a lot. I can’t risk losing her trust—not without proof.”

  “Fair enough,” Sherman said. “Keep an eye on her. Until then—mission as usual.”

  “Understood.”

  Ryder took another swig before looking back at Sherman. “I’d like to continue our R&R on Earth.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “And I’d like permission for Natilite and Assiaya to explore a bit. They want to experience Earth.”

  “What about Fraeya?” Hackett asked.

  Ryder sighed. “She’s obsessed with Altaerrie. It’ll be a harder sell—but she deserves to experience our world too.”

  Sherman considered, then nodded. “One night. I’ll clear it with State.”

  Ryder lifted his bottle in a quiet toast. The others did the same, and all three drank together beneath the Alagorian sky.