The stars shimmered differently above Gia.
They didn’t blink or scatter like Earth’s pale sky—they danced.
Swirls of deep gold and dusky violet spun across the heavens, as if the sky itself were silk brushed with light.
Beneath that cosmic veil floated a planet so hauntingly beautiful, it seemed carved not by nature, but by a divine artist.
This was Gia, home of the Farians.
From afar, the planet looked like a glowing opal—rings of soft teal atmosphere wrapping gently around its surface, shimmering with tiny glints like dusted gems.
And as one drew closer, the shapes of the land began to form: sweeping golden plains that burned gently under the twin suns, forests of crystalline black trees whose glassy leaves tinkled in the wind, and mountain ranges carved from violet stone, their peaks cloaked in mists that never moved.
And within laid the capital city, Ciren’thal. The city of grandeur. massive towers covered the entire city, sculpted from moonstone and woven with veins of light-infused crystal.
Inside one of the grandest towers—the Hall of Stellar Decrees, a fortress-palace built into the spine of a sacred mountain—lay an ornate chamber lined with translucent walls, etched in silver.
The furniture was carved from star-metal and obsidian glass, glowing faintly with energy. Light filtered through a massive skylight above, diffused by the twin suns to cast a soft golden hue.
Inside, the air was still.
Holograms floated mid-air, swirling around a man seated before a low desk of glowing stone. He didn’t speak. He didn’t blink. He simply watched the data pass before him—reports, updates, maps of star systems unraveling like threads before a needle.
This was Prince Caelus An’Theri, the first born son of the Farian Emperor. Known across the galaxy as the Silent Star.
He looked sculpted, as if the gods themselves had poured ice and fire into a single form. His face was sharply angled—high cheekbones, a strong, clean-cut jaw, and lips that rarely moved. His pale skin gleamed under the cool light of the tower, unblemished, untouched. And his ice-blue eyes, framed by delicate black birth-marks curling like inked wings, gave nothing away.
He wore long, obsidian robes edged in silver, his long blond hair pulled back into a braided knot—formal, unbending, perfect. There was no softness in him. No emotion.
Only control.
A soft beep broke the stillness.
He didn’t turn his head. Instead, he tapped his fingers once against the stone surface. A blue orb lit up.
"Priority alert. Genetic trace detected. Earth sector. Human subject match: 99.998%. Heir fragment confirmed."
A pause.
Caelus did not react. But the quiet in the room seemed to grow heavier.
"Location: Dumping zone, Class C city. Earth conflict zone engaged. Target identified: Jian Wang."
For the first time, Caelus blinked. Slowly.
Then, he stood.
He moved with absolute silence, his robes trailing behind like ink spilling on glass.
He stepped onto the wide balcony that overlooked all of Ciren’thal—the floating towers, the glowing rivers, the black forests, and the twin suns bleeding gold across the clouds.
His gaze pierced the sky, beyond the heavens, beyond stars—until it landed somewhere far, far away.
Earth.
A long silence stretched.
Then, his lips moved softly.
"...third prince... Jian wang"
The name echoed, delicate and cold.
A faint chime echoed again, delicate but insistent, snapping through the silence like a thread pulled taut.
Prince Caelus stood motionless by the balcony, the silken folds of his robe unmoving in the still air. Behind him, the orb flared once more—a deeper red now. Urgent.
He walked in and waved at the orb. The hovering interface bloomed to life at his gesture.
"Distress signal—Fleet Four. Priority One. Encrypted relay incoming."
His pale brows twitched—just barely.
With a flick of his wrist, the signal was connected.
A flickering projection snapped into view, revealing the grim, jittering face of Fleet Commander Alareth.
"Your Highness—!" The man’s voice cracked as the connection stabilized. Static and red alarm flares lit the background of the ship. "This is urgent. We’ve lost contact with Second Prince Dican—he’s gone dark."
Caelus’s voice was like ice sliding across glass.
"Explain."
"He... left the fleet," Alareth swallowed, sweat beading at his temple. "After confirmation of the third bloodline trace on the primitive planet, he—he took an escape pod without clearance. Said nothing to Command. It was as if he... just ran."
A moment’s pause.
"And?"
"We tracked the pod’s descent into Earth’s atmosphere. Signal went out mid-entry. No beacon. No crash trace. No life signs." The commander looked down. "It’s likely, Your Highness... it crashed."
Caelus stared at the flickering projection. His hand slowly curled into a fist behind his back, where no one could see.
Dican.
His Foolish, Impulsive, Reckless brother if his was up to one of his antics again.
Every single time he did something like this it manages to cause a whole new problem. Last time when Dican went out on a mission they had to extract that darn fool form the mouth of goliath monster.
Now this....
Caelus turned his gaze to the floating planet map—Earth, now throbbing in red. His lips parted slightly as he prepared to speak, but the orb pulsed again.
Another alert.
"Planetary event: Immediate escalation. Greyling swarm detected. Coordinates: Earth Sector 7. Status: Breach. Status: Active invasion."
The chamber’s lights dimmed under the weight of the words. Across the display, ominous dark shadows began to crawl over Earth’s image, like bruises spreading over flesh.
The Greylings.
A murmur passed through his throat—too soft to be called a sigh, too sharp to be nothing at all.
Caelus moved at once.
With a swipe of his hand, he summoned the ship’s AI.
"Ready my vessel. Departure window: now. Contact Father. Inform him I am initiating ground-level retrieval."
"Retrieval of who, Your Highness?"
A pause.
His expression didn’t change.
But his tone, always cool, "Both of my stupid brothers."
He walked over to the wall of the room which displayed a array of weapons and picked out a long sword made of strange black metal. "ready the troupes we leave in ten." he waved at the floating orb as he walked out of the room.