Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The universe, a canvas of infinite possibility, stretches before us, a vast expanse of swirling galaxies, each a vortex of stars and dust, harbouring billions of planets. Some of these worlds teem with life, vibrant ecosystems teeming with unique creatures, while others lie desolate and barren, silent testaments to the universe's indifference. Scattered throughout this cosmic tapestry, countless beings, each with their own unique stories and destinies, weave a complex web of wonder, mystery, and the ever-present possibility of the unknown.

On the planet Luthoria, nestled within a vibrant, swirling galaxy, a civilization once thrived in a state of unparalleled peace and advancement. The Luthorians, a species of ethereal beings with skin that shimmered like moonlight and eyes that held the wisdom of ages, had long transcended the petty conflicts that plagued other civilizations. Their society was a harmonious blend of technology and spirituality, where knowledge was revered and progress was guided by compassion.

They had mastered not only the physical world but also the very essence of their being, standing at the pinnacle of existence, teetering on the precipice of transcendence. To them, the complexities of life, the challenges that plagued other civilizations, were mere trivialities, easily overcome with a thought, a gesture, a whisper of their collective will. Their advancements in technology, science, and art were so profound that they had become second nature, flowing effortlessly from their very essence.

Driven by an insatiable thirst for knowledge, the Luthorians embarked on a relentless quest to unravel the mysteries of the universe. Their pursuit of understanding, however, became their undoing. Their thirst for knowledge consumed them, leading them to delve into realms beyond their comprehension, to tamper with forces beyond their control. Their experiments, conducted with the purest intentions, had unintended consequences. The very planet that had nurtured them for millennia began to crumble under the weight of their advancements.

The once-pristine environment became toxic, the atmosphere choked with noxious fumes, the land scarred with craters and fissures. The planet's core, destabilized by their relentless probing, threatened to erupt, unleashing a cataclysmic event that could consume their civilization in a fiery inferno. There had inadvertently led to their own destruction. The planet they called home, the cradle of their civilization, was on the brink of collapse. Their quest for knowledge had come at a terrible price, a price they were now forced to pay.

***

Three nights had passed, and the sky remained stubbornly barren of stars. Or was it four? She couldn't quite remember. Lost in the wonder of observing the natural world, a privilege denied to those who lived on their motherland, a world devoid of nature, she had lost track of time. Perhaps their sky, too, was devoid of stars, a consequence of their artificial world. She had never had the time to truly inspect, but she couldn't help but notice how the familiar constellations, once a constant in her life, were slowly vanishing, one by one.

The beach where she used to watch the sun sink into the horizon, painting the sky with fiery hues, now resembled a desolate desert. The once-soft sand, cool and damp beneath her feet, was now dry and cracked, the waves that once lapped gently at the shore vanished without a trace. It was a marvel how the ground still retained its natural texture, how the very essence of the beach remained, despite the water that had somehow evaporated, leaving behind a parched and lifeless expanse.

Lifeless. That would what they all become. They were on the brink of destruction, their very existence hanging by a thread, yet they continued to live, to work, to interact, as if nothing was amiss. It was as if they had become numb to the encroaching doom, their minds unable to grasp the magnitude of the catastrophe unfolding around them. The normalcy of their daily lives, a stark contrast to the impending disaster, served as a chilling reminder of their collective denial, a testament to the human capacity to ignore the inevitable.

Within the hallowed halls of the House of Tho-Rul, a secret chamber, veiled from prying eyes, played host to a clandestine meeting. The patriarch, his face etched with the weight of years and the burden of leadership, sat across from his heir, a young man whose shoulders already bore the weight of a legacy he had not chosen. The air crackled with unspoken tension, the silence thick with the weight of their shared destiny, as they grappled with the fate of their civilization, a civilization on the brink of collapse.

“My son,” his voice, though laced with worry, held a resolute strength, "I have prepared a ship for you. Location set. It is the best place to settle down and survive.” A gruff voice echoed in a dim room, the only light emanating from a flickering lamp casting long shadows across the worn walls.

“Is there no other way, father?” A younger voice, tinged with despair, replied.

“I’m afraid this is the only way, Lucian.” He paused, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon, a flicker of pain crossing his weathered face. “Our legacy needs to live.” He added grimly, his voice a low rumble.

Silence reigned, heavy and suffocating, broken only by the soft crackle of the fire in the hearth.

“Please, for Luthoria. You need to live.” The older man's voice, though gruff, was laced with a desperate plea.

“But what about the others? We still have time? For sure, we can arrange…” Lucian argued, his voice strained with emotion.

“Then, you need to be the primary Luthorian,” the patriarch replied, his voice firm, yet tinged with a hint of sadness. “I've entrusted our civilization's knowledge to HOPE. You will have to prepare to welcome us there.”

Lucian stared at his father, his face a mask of conflicting emotions. The weight of responsibility, the burden of choice, pressed down on him. He knew his father was right, but the thought of leaving his people behind, of abandoning his home, filled him with a deep sense of unease. Without a nod, he turned and strode out of the room, the silence following him like a shroud. The tension in the air remained, thick and palpable, a silent testament to the gravity of their decision, the uncertainty of their future.

He found his wife and children gathered in the living room; their faces illuminated by the soft glow of the hearth. His son, his doppelgänger, was lost in a book, while his daughter was nowhere in vicinity. His wife, her eyes filled with concern, looked up as he entered.

“Darling,” she said, her voice soft, “what is it? You look troubled.”

He took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “We're going on a trip,” he said, his voice carefully neutral. “A vacation, to a new place.”

He saw the flicker of confusion in their eyes, but he pressed on, his voice firming. “We need to leave, for a while. It's for the best.” He looks on the floor. “Lionel, get your sister.”

***

The family of four were preparing to board the ship that was prepared for them. There was mixed emotion from each of them yet the evident one was confusion. There were different people, yet familiar face that the family were accustom with. They definitely are in similar situation yet none of them voice out their concern. They just choose to let everything run through its course. They all board the ship in silence.

It was not the first time that the family of four were aboard a ship to visit places but it is the first with other families. The space was high on mixed emotion still especially the adult while the child was clueless to their predicament. As their parents told them, they are on a vacation, a journey or etcetera before they board the ship. Like any other children, they were overjoyed to visit different places than their motherland but the young adult understands that there are chance that they are leaving and never to return.

Chapter Text

The crisp bite of winter hung in the air, even beneath the warmth of her blankets. Darkness still cloaked the world outside, a heavy blanket of pre-dawn gloom. Silence reigned, not a sound escaping from the quarters or beyond. The morning's stillness, coupled with the lingering chill, tempted her back to dreamless sleep. Her body ached for it, pleading for just a few more moments of rest. But the knowledge that the alarm would be screaming in a quarter hour, maybe even less, sent a jolt through her. The muscles in her shoulders tensed, a reflex honed by years of training. Against it all, she raises from her bed and start her morning routine.

Her morning routine usually consisted of five laps around the base, interspersed with various exercises. No matter how battered her body felt from the day before, she always stuck to her schedule, but today was different. She was assigned to escort the General to the Science Guild for a meeting. Despite the altered schedule, she still carved out time for a light routine. It wasn't the usual gruelling session of hundreds of push-ups, sit-ups, and burpees that left her muscles screaming for mercy. But a few stretches, a set of push-ups, and a quick sprint around the barrack training field were enough to get her blood flowing and her mind sharp for the day.

She moved with practiced efficiency, completing her routine in a fraction of the time it usually took. It didn't even leave her winded, so she continued on with the rest of her morning routine: a quick refresh before filling her empty stomach with scrumptious breakfast prepared by the kitchen. The lack of a long line filled her with gratitude. This was because there weren't many missions being assigned, and there were no high-stakes, full-house missions for their barracks. This meant they had plenty of time for sleep and leisure between training sessions, before the alarm ringing for their daily duties. Many recruits, she knew, cherished their sleep more than a full stomach.

The barrack alarm rang just as she finished her food. Not wanting to wait for the hallway to be flooded with recruits, she swiftly loaded her utensils into the dishwasher and returned to her room to refresh herself. It was a simple escort assignment, so she opted for the basic gear and tied her hair back in a ponytail. Despite being early, she wasted no time and went directly to the assembly point, which was the General's Office. She checked her wristwatch and realized she had about a quarter hour to spare. Taking a seat near the door, she settled in to wait.

A few other recruits trickled in, their eyes briefly meeting hers before dropping to the floor as they snapped to attention, saluting with practiced precision. The crisp, synchronized movements were a stark contrast to the cold indifference that lingered in their eyes. It was a familiar routine, a dance of respect and rejection that she had learned to navigate with a stoic grace.

The weight of her family's history pressed down on her shoulders, a constant reminder of the ostracism she'd faced since childhood. Her ancestor's actions had branded them pariahs, a stain that extended to her own generation. She had learned to wear this burden with a stoic grace, a shield against the world's scorn. But the weight of her family's past extended beyond personal slights.

Countless solstices, supports, and sacrifices in the name of the motherland had gone unnoticed. Even a single acknowledgement would have been a balm, but there was nothing. Not even when her father, a revered member of the Science Guild, was embraced by Rao. The ceremony was a quiet affair, attended only by family. None of his colleagues were present, a testament to the society's enduring prejudice. He had placed them on a pedestal, yet never truly accepted him. The discrimination had persisted for generations, a festering wound that refused to heal.

Quarter hour passes by as she spent the time just sitting on the chair. The door pushed open from the other side and the general strode out of her room in blank face.

“Salute, general” They stands instinctively.

Their salutation was met with a small nod from the General before being led away. No words were exchanged as the recruits fell into line behind the general, with her bringing up the rear.

It wasn't a long walk as the transport was already prepped at the hangar. It was a small craft, sleek and black as obsidian, with a low profile that hugged the ground. The hull shimmered subtly, hinting at the advanced technology beneath. A single, glowing blue line ran along the length of the craft, pulsing with a steady rhythm, like a beating heart. The air around it hummed with a barely perceptible energy, a silent promise of the speed and power it held within. The door was automatically open when the general was close.

“Lieutenant Tho-Rul.”

“Salute, General.” She swiftly catches up to move beside the general.

“Follow me.”

“Affirmative, General.” She follows the general who leads them into the cockpit.

"Lieutenant Tho-Rul, I believe your understanding of science is extensive." The General's gaze remained fixed on her as the door closed with a firm click. A red light flashed on the control panel, followed by the surge of the craft as it headed towards its destination.

“General, I know a thing or two about science, but I'm always ready to learn more.”

The general gives her a blank stare before taping onto the control panel which in turn projecting numerous holographic, precisely their planet holographic. “I am trusting you with this classified information.” The general glance toward the lieutenant as she continues, “Our planet is unstable, precisely its core.” She states while pointing towards the centre of the planet.

The holographic projection shimmered, resolving into intricate detail, revealing the planet's core like a beating heart of molten fire. She traced the swirling currents of magma with her gaze, mesmerized by the intricate dance of heat and pressure. Then, her eyes narrowed as she noticed a subtle shift in the holographic display. The energy signature of the core, previously a steady hum, began to surge, a slow, rhythmic pulse that grew in intensity with each passing moment.

The rhythmic pulse of the core beat in sync with her own heart, a slow, steady thrum that seemed to amplify with every passing second. The holographic display pulsed with information, a torrent of data that threatened to overwhelm her senses. She felt the weight of understanding pressing down on her, the immensity of the knowledge threatening to crush her. Her mind, normally a fortress of logic and reason, was now a fragile vessel struggling to contain the flood of information.

“I'm sorry, General,” she stammered, her voice barely a whisper. “You're saying... Krypton is... dangerous to be habitable?” Her heart pounded against her ribs, a rhythm that echoed the ancient heartbeat of Krypton itself. The thought of her motherland, a vibrant jewel in the cosmos, dissolving into a fiery inferno, threatened to consume her, leaving only a cold, empty void.

The general look her with understanding, “We believe that might be the worst-case scenario. I am sure you yourself could predict what might happen if our energy core remains unstable.” The general then code in a sequence to run the simulation.

The holographic core continued its rhythmic pulse, each beat a little stronger than the last. The steady thrum morphed into a frantic drumbeat, the energy spikes growing increasingly erratic and violent. Then, with a sudden, explosive surge, the core erupted. The inner shell, once a solid barrier, shattered, releasing a torrent of superheated plasma that ripped outward, consuming the outer layers of the planet in a fiery inferno. The simulation, once a vibrant representation of Krypton's heart, dissolved into a chaotic maelstrom of light and green, leaving behind only a void of destruction.

“Why... why are you showing me this?” she whispered, her gaze transfixed on the holographic display. Her voice, a mere breath, was lost in the catastrophe of destruction unfolding before her.

“I've been watching you,” the General said, her gaze fixed on the holographic display, a flicker of calculation in her eyes but she did not finish her sentence.

The Lieutenant, a young officer with a face etched with worry, direct her focus towards the general. “General,” she began, her voice barely a whisper, “has the High Council been informed of this... impending doom? Have they made the necessary arrangements?”

The General abruptly halted the simulation, the holographic display dissolving into a static haze. “Yes,” she growled, her voice a low rumble of suppressed fury. “They've been briefed. Every detail laid out before them. And yet, they dismiss it. They laugh it off.”

“Why?” The young Lieutenant repeated, her voice flat and emotionless. Her face, however, betrayed her inner turmoil, a mask of disbelief etched across her features.

The General sighed, a heavy, weary sound that echoed in the silent room. “I have no answer for that, young one” she admitted, her voice a low murmur. “But what I do know is that you are the right person to know this.” Her gaze, intense and unwavering, locked onto the Lieutenant's, conveying a weight of responsibility that transcended words.

The Lieutenant simply stared back at the General, her expression unreadable. The weight of the General's words hung heavy in the air, a silent question echoing in the space between them. The young officer's mind, still reeling from the simulation's horrifying display and the council's shocking ignorance, found a strange sense of bitter acceptance. Perhaps, it was to be expected from them, this continuous ignorance. Being the superior race had clouded their judgment more than it should.

“Late Chief Tho-Rul is the one who initially discovered this years ago,” the General began, her voice a low murmur, “Then, Chief Jor-El continued his research.”

“So, you say he went mad… because of that.” The lieutenant interrupted, her gaze burning into the General.

The General sighed, a heavy, weary sound that echoed in the silent room. “They did, but the Science Guild didn't. They kept on researching, finding ways on how to stabilizing the core, yet none of them made any progress. Your father's research was on the right track, but he never completed it. And, he never went mad… It’s just…”

“It is because he never got their support, is it?” the Lieutenant stated lowly, her voice laced with a bitter accusation.

The General chose to ignore the question, her gaze fixed on the distant hangar of the Science Guild ground. “Aside from Chief Jor-El,” she continued, “your mother and brother are working alongside him. We will be meeting with them to explore more solution.” The craft touch down on the hangar, ceasing their conversation.

The General looked at her sharply, her gaze piercing. “The confidential information should not leave this room,” she stated, her voice low and firm. “Do you understand?”

“Understand, General.” She replies with a low nod.

The General, without giving the Lieutenant further instruction, walked towards the door. It opened automatically as she approached, revealing a hallway bathed in soft, blue light. The General stepped in front of the recruit, her back to the door, and began to speak.

“Lieutenant Tho-Rul is with me. The rest of you will be stationed at the training hall until further notice.” She stated as she tilts her head towards the entrance for them to start moving. She then sends a nod to the lieutenant. They reached the main entrance and the General stand on the door for clearance before they were welcomed in.

Walking into the building is like entering a spectacle of light and sound. The air hums with a low, constant thrum, a symphony of unseen machinery. The walls, smooth and seamless, seem to shift and ripple as if alive, displaying holographic projections of intricate scientific diagrams and complex equations on certain walls which also unseen on their pathway. An ethereal glow emanates from the ceiling, casting a soft, cool light that illuminates the polished floors and the sleek, metallic furniture guiding them towards each of their destination. Upon the intersection, the cool light directs them into two separated direction.

The walk to the meeting room was a tense one, a silent exchange of unspoken anxieties. The Lieutenant, her heart a drum against her ribs, dreaded the outcome, the weight of her father's legacy pressing down on her shoulders. The General, her face a mask of composure, meticulously planned her next move, her mind a chessboard where every piece was a potential advantage. Each step they took echoed in the sterile, metallic corridors, a stark reminder of the stakes at play. Their destination is towards the south of their location. Their pathway was barren from other being as they were in their respective chamber.

Upon arriving at their destination, the General's face was automatically scanned by the panel on the door for authorization. A soft hum filled the air as the advanced technology swiftly processed the biometric data, verifying her identity with precision. The panel emitted a subtle beep, signalling approval, and the door slid open, granting them access to the meeting venue. The General's expression remained composed, a sign of her familiarity with such protocols, as she led the way into the heart of the restricted chamber.

Due to the inherent risk of assembling a meeting in such an exposed location, attendance was sparse. Only a select few, individuals deemed essential to the proceedings, had been summoned. Namely, Chief Jor-El, her mother Chief Tho-Rul, her brother Alexei, and another man she did not recognize. The cavernous chamber felt eerily quiet, the silence punctuated only by the occasional rustle of movement or the soft hum of the ventilation system. She tries to greet her family silently but they were trapped in their minds, each grappling with the weight of the current predicament.

The General looked around each of them before starting, “Greeting to you.” But none of them made any reply, just a slight of nod of acknowledgement. She continues, “We should start our meeting.”

“Right, I believe everyone here has extensive information regarding our planet status.” Chief Jor-El begin as he tries to formulate sentences to navigate the meeting. The participant still has made any vocal reply, still with a silent acknowledgement.

“Krypton's insatiable appetite for energy, fuelled by its relentless pursuit of technological advancement, has placed an immense strain on our planet's core. The unchecked exploitation of our natural resources, particularly the overuse of our energy reserves, has disrupted the delicate balance of our planetary systems. This has resulted in a gradual but undeniable destabilization of our core, threatening the very foundation of our existence.” He continues.

The General hums before ask, “Have our research and development efforts yielded any breakthroughs in stabilizing the core?”

Chief Jor-El's gaze fixed on Chief Tho-Rul, a silent demand for an answer. A sigh escaped Tho-Rul's lips before she replied, her voice laced with a hint of disdain, “It seems Krypton's progress would be stagnant without the Tho-Rul's guiding hand. Even with Lionel's extensive research, no solutions have been found.” Her eyes swept across the room, pausing briefly on each attendee, before she continued, “My late husband theorized that stabilizing the core would require Krypton to revert to a primitive state for approximately a century. He believed we would have to abandon all energy use in our daily lives… Yet, the people condemned him, even though he was only trying to help.” Her voice softened, her eyes turning solemn as she continued, “They called him a madman, a threat to our way of life. But now, we are facing the consequences of their ignorance.”

Her brother stared at their mother with sadness before taking over the speech, “The abuse of energy continues to destabilize our core. Even if we followed my father's advice, our core would still... explode.” His voice cracked; his eyes filled with a despair that mirrored the fate they were facing. “Our only option is to migrate the people of Krypton.”

“It's a mass exodus, and no other planet would accept a refugee population of this size.” His voice wavered as his thoughts caught up to him, the weight of the truth settling in his stomach. He continued, “Then… Then we would save those who have the best chance of continuing our civilization in a new place.” the unknown man stated, his gaze fixed on her brother, a hint of grim reality in his voice.

“The issue is not lies on the exodus, Kai. It is the people themselves.” Chief Jor-El stated solemnly while his eyes set on his apprentice, Kai. “Kryptonian could not survive in any other planet other than Krypton. They were bonded to the core energy as much as they are bonded under our Rao.” He paused, his brows crumple as he formulates a suitable sentence to make sense, “Leaving the motherland could harm them and we in no condition to test the theory and find solution.”

“Are you proposing that we just let it be?” The lieutenant finally spoke up, her voice barely a whisper, barely audible against the tense atmosphere.

“Why our ancestor decided to settle in Krypton is a mystery to me.” Her brother laments lowly, his voice filled with wonder.

“It’s a question we’ve all asked ourselves,” her mother says softly, her voice filled with a quiet wisdom. “Perhaps it was fate, or perhaps it was simply a choice made in a time of great need. Whatever the reason, we are here now, and we must find a way to move forward.”

The Tho-Rul, as they were known on Krypton, were not native to the planet. Their lineage traced back to a long-forgotten world, Luthoria, a planet more ancient than the Krypton itself. Luthoria, a world of advanced technology and scientific marvels much more than Krypton, its core slowly dying. The Luthorians, a race of brilliant minds and unwavering ambition, had sought to prolong their planet's life, but their efforts proved futile. Nothing can beat old age. As their world crumbled around them, a small group of Luthorians, led by a visionary scientist named Lucian, embarked on a desperate mission: to find a new home, a new world where they could continue their legacy.

They found Krypton, a planet brimming with potential, a world ripe for their guidance. They arrived as refugees, offering their knowledge and skills in exchange for a place to rebuild their lives. The Kryptonians, impressed by their advanced technology and scientific prowess, welcomed them with open arms. They quickly integrated into Kryptonian society, becoming advisors to the ruling council, their knowledge shaping the planet's development. They became known as the Tho-Rul, a name that signified their wisdom and their unwavering dedication to Krypton's advancement. They were revered as saviours, their arrival seen as a blessing from Rao himself.

Centuries passed, and the new generations of Luthorians and Kryptonians lived peacefully, their cultures blending together. Then, Lionel, a descendant of Lucian and the current head of the Luthorian lineage, made a ground-breaking discovery about the planet's core. He realized that Krypton's core was unstable, a ticking time bomb that threatened the very existence of the planet. Lionel, driven by a deep sense of responsibility and a desire to protect his adopted home, presented his findings to the High Council, urging them to take immediate action. He proposed a series of measures to stabilize the core, but his warnings were met with resistance.

The High Council, accustomed to Krypton's seemingly endless prosperity and confident in their technological advancements, dismissed Lionel's concerns as alarmist. They saw his warnings as a threat to their way of life, a challenge to their authority. They believed that Krypton's technological prowess would be enough to overcome any challenge, and they dismissed Lionel's warnings as the ramblings of a worried scientist. Lionel, however, remained steadfast in his conviction, his warnings growing more urgent with each passing day. He knew that time was running out, and he feared that the High Council's inaction would lead to catastrophic consequences.

Lionel's warnings, however, fell on deaf ears. The High Council, blinded by their own hubris and their faith in their technological advancements, chose to ignore the looming threat. They continued to exploit Krypton's resources, oblivious to the growing instability of the planet's core. Lionel, his warnings ignored, was left to watch in despair as Krypton's fate was sealed. He clung to a flicker of hope, a desperate belief that it was not too late to save the planet from its destruction. He poured his remaining energy into documenting his findings, meticulously detailing his research and the dire consequences of inaction. He hoped that his legacy, his warnings, would not be forgotten, that his heir would continue his work in ensuring the stability of Krypton's core for future generations to live.

“Father, last project is… Elysium.” Her brother paused, a wave of sadness washing over his face before he continued, “He was working on creating an electromagnetic field, a kind of shield around the core, to stabilize it.” He keys in code into the control panel and retrieve the necessary files to present the project. “He believes that by manipulating the core’s energy flow, we could prevent it from collapsing in on itself. It was a risky idea, but he was convinced it was our only hope”

His voice dropped to a near whisper, “He said that the core was like a heart, beating with a life force that could be controlled. He wanted to create a shield, a barrier to protect it from the strain of our technology. He believes that if we could just give it a chance to heal, Krypton could survive.” The room turns to sombre of remembering the late Science Guild Chief.

“Chief Lionel was the brightest star among us. His brilliance continues to guide us, even though he's no longer with us. I have no doubt that his project, the electromagnetic field, would be our only hope. But time... time is our enemy now. We should have listened when he presented his findings to the council years ago. We should have acted then.” He paused; his voice thick with regret. “Now, I fear, it's too late. The core is in a state of turmoil, like a raging inferno. We've pushed it too far, and it's on the verge of collapse.”

“We could… We could still create an electromagnetic field to save…” The lieutenant's voice trailed off; her gaze fixed on the swirling energy field before them.

Ever since she was a child, she dreamt of joining the Science Guild, following in the footsteps of her family. But her mother, insistent, and her father, supportive, steered her towards the Military Guild, recognizing her natural affinity for it. She joined at the tender age of seven, her childhood filled with science projects, her passion ignited by her family's dedication. Yet, the winds of Kryptonian politics had shifted, urging her towards the Military Guild for protection and assurance. Now, facing this crisis, the scientist within her yearned to break free, to apply her knowledge and save the world she swore to protect.

Her mind raced, formulating plan after plan, before she could articulate a coherent sentence. “We can't save everyone,” she stated, her voice firm despite the tremor in her hands, “but we can save enough to continue the civilization. We need to initiate Project Elysium as father planned.” She paused, noticing the weight of everyone's attention on her. Her family, their faces etched with a mixture of pride and apprehension, watched intently as she resolved the turmoil within. “But,” she added, her voice gaining strength, “we integrate the project onto a city instead of the core.”

“It's a feasible approach,” the Chief agreed, his voice laced with a cautious optimism. “We can save as many Kryptonians as possible with this plan. However, there are still too many variables to account for.” He paused; his brow furrowed in contemplation. “Assuming we go through with creating a shield for a city, what about the rest of the land? The impact could shatter Krypton into massive chunks of rock and debris, hurling them into space.” He stood up from his seat and paced, his hands clasped behind his back. “Those fragments would be like giant meteorites, potentially harming other planets. No matter where they are projected, the risk remains.”

The room tilted toward a deafening silence, the weight of the decision pressing down on them. The air crackled with anticipation, each breath a tangible reminder of the stakes involved. The silence stretched, a palpable tension that seemed to hang heavy in the air, thick as the dust that swirled in the filtered light of the lamps. The only sound was the faint hum of the systems, a constant reminder of their precarious situation.

“Lieutenant Tho-Rul laid promising option.” The General comment.

The Chief, his brow furrowed, leaned back in his chair. “Think about the impact, Astra. While this might save some, those massive chunks of Krypton, they'll be hurtling through space. We can't ignore the risk to other planets.”

“Leanne's plan offers the best chance of survival,” her brother interjects, his voice filled with conviction. “If we succeed, we have a chance to rebuild, to create a new future for our people. We have to try.”

“Yes, but not at the expense of other.” The Chief exclaimed.

“Then, should we simply play by the odds?” the lieutenant asked, her voice hardening, her gaze fixed on the Chief. “Create the Elysium to cover the core, and hope the magnetic field can somehow stabilize them?” Her exclamation was met with a range of reactions.

“Forgive me,” she said, her voice weary. “Neither option guarantees survival. Project Elysium is untested, the core will still explode, debris will scatter. Others could be implicated. But,” She inhaled deeply, before continuing, her voice gaining a steely edge. “I am willing to be selfish if it means that Krypton will have future.”

“I agree with Lieutenant Tho-Rul,” Chief Tho-Rul finally commented, her voice heavy with the weight of the decision. “We don't have many options, and each one carries a high probability that Krypton will not survive. We have to salvage what we can before we cannot.” the Tho-Rul matriarch stated, her gaze hardening with determination.

“We still need back-up plan.” the apprentice piped up, his eyes scanning the faces of everyone in the room.

“Yes. A backup in case the plan falls apart.” The General nod, her expression blank of any emotion.

“Then, I propose we send a few children to a safer planet,” Chief Jor-El suggested, his voice heavy with the weight of his words. “I believe we can scan the orbit for suitable environments to survive.”

“Then, we need the Luthorians to prepare for the child arrival at the designated planet.” Chief Tho-Rul chimed in.

Chief Jor-El exhale, “I will scan the orbit for habitable planet and if possible, Astra. Send a few scouts for the confirmation. Regarding transportation, I believe the Luthorians would cover it.”

“Absolutely,” Chief Tho-Rul stated, her gaze hardening. “But only Luthorians are authorized to be inside the craft. It has complex verification systems that only Tho-Rul blood can activate.” Her gaze settled on her daughter, a flicker of something unreadable passing across her face.

The Lieutenant could feel the weight of that burden settling upon her, though it paled in comparison to the larger task at hand. “Then, what about the transportation for those children?” she asked, her voice steady despite the growing unease.

“We should have time and resource to create a spacecraft, also with the help of Chief Tho-Rul.” Chief Jor-El stated, his gaze meeting the Luthorian matriarchs with a silent plea for cooperation.

The general set her gaze on the Science Guild Chief, “How much time we have left?”

Chief Jor-El's face was grim as he replied, “The numbers are uncertain; they keep dropping the more energy we use. I say we have less than a decade.”

A heavy silence descended upon the chamber, the only sound the rhythmic hum of the control panel. The faces around the table were a tableau of shock and disbelief. The General's jaw was clenched, her eyes wide and unblinking. Chief Tho-Rul's hand instinctively went to her chest, as if bracing for a physical blow. Even Chief Jor-El, the bearer of the grim news, seemed to shrink under the weight of the shared understanding.

The General, now with a steely glint in her eye, stands up “Our objective is clear. Our civilization must survive.” She paused, her gaze sweeping across the room, meeting each eye. “The task will be split into three and need to be done as soon as possible. First,” She paused again, her voice firm, “Project Elysium should be commenced. If possible, we need prototype for testing. Second, finding sanctuary for new civilization survival. I suppose we still need to find appropriate environment for the child.” The General paused, exhaling slowly. “Third, transportation.”

Her brother, the Lieutenant, piped up, raising a hand to catch the General's attention. “First, since we are trying to reduce our energy usage, we need to manufacture the device elsewhere, we can’t do it here. I noticed that the equipment requires high energy level and that is just to create one of the parts.”

The General nodded, her mind already ransacking possibilities. “We will arrange something for that. Perhaps we can use the old Military Location for laboratory.”

The Science Guild Chief perked up, “The one at Thalon?”

Her brother interjected, “It’s too close.”

“Somewhere far away?” The apprentice stated.

Chief Jor-El looked at his apprentice, a flicker of approval in his gaze. “Not too far. But that means that we need to scan for more location.”

The General nodded, her expression serious. “Discrete is the utmost importance here. I say we do the scanning.”

“The scanning will not extensive as late Chief Tho-Rul has list in his archive here.” Chief Jor-El paused, his gaze turning thoughtful. “After he passed, a corps continues on some of his research including scanning for habitable place.”

“In the meantime, we will gather the required item for the Elysium and also the Exodus.”

“As I said to my Lieutenant earlier,” the General stated, her voice a low growl, “the confidential information should not leave this room. We are scheming beyond the High Council's knowledge, and it needs to stay that way.” The room falls silent, each leader nodding in agreement. The weight of the General's words hangs heavy in the air.

“Would that be all today?” Chief Jor-El asked, his voice wearies from the intensity of the meeting.

Chief Tho-Rul fixed her gaze on the General, her expression grave. “Our meeting venue should change. The plan could be compromised before the project can even commence.” She paused, her voice hardening, as if steeling herself for a difficult decision. “Perhaps we can set the future meeting at the Tho-Rul compound. I believe we have the necessary documentation at our private archive.”

The Tho-Rul compound resides at the south from the heart of Krypton, a sprawling fortress of stone and steel that stands in stark contrast to the bustling city below. It's surrounded by high walls, topped with razor-sharp spikes that glisten under the crimson sun. Tight security measures, almost as stringent as those surrounding the High Council building, are in place, but on a grander scale. Here, the walls stretch for miles, guarded by a small army of Luthorian warriors and advanced surveillance systems. The compound is not just a building, it's a small city unto itself, a testament to the Tho-Rul family's power and influence.

Within those walls, a labyrinth of building and blocks awaits. Ancient libraries hold scrolls filled with forbidden knowledge, while laboratories hum with the latest scientific advancements. Hidden gardens bloom with exotic flowers, their fragrance carried on the wind. And in the heart of the compound, a towering structure rises towards the sky, its purpose shrouded in secrecy. It's said to be the repository of the Tho-Rul family's most prized possession, a legacy that has help shaped the fate of Krypton for generations.

To step foot within those walls is considered an immense honour, a privilege granted only to a select few. It's a testament to the Tho-Rul family's influence that even the most powerful figures in Kryptonian society would consider themselves lucky to be invited within its gates. To be granted access to the Tho-Rul compound is to be recognized as a person of great importance, a figure whose presence is deemed worthy of the family's trust and respect. It's a privilege that speaks volumes about one's standing in Kryptonian society, a mark of distinction that sets them apart from the masses.

The Tho-Rul matriarch, her gaze sweeping across each of their faces, stated, “You will be given a secure key for each meeting, only accessible for those duration unless stated otherwise.”

The General nodded, her expression softening slightly. “It is an honour, Chief Tho-Rul, and I am forever grateful for your trust.”

The matriarch nodded, her gaze lingering on the General for a moment before she spoke. “If that would be all, I would like to be excused,” she stated.

The General bowed her head slightly. “Until next time, Chief Tho-Rul, Chief Jor-El.”

Chief Tho-Rul cast a lingering gaze at the Lieutenant as she left the room, followed by her brother. This is the first time in the year they've met since she reporting for duty, and it is mentally challenging for her to not go to them and exchange affection. The weight of her responsibilities, the burden of her position, had forced her to distance herself from the warmth of family, to prioritize the needs of Krypton above all else. Yet, as she watched them walk away, a question lingered in her mind: would they ever be complete again, whole, as they once were?

The General watched the interaction with a flicker of sympathy. “Let’s head back to base,” she said, her voice low. “We here long enough. Fetch the recruit.”

“Affirmative. As you wish, General.” she replied, her voice strained. Leaving the General to her thoughts, the Lieutenant headed for the training hall, where the rest of the recruits were waiting.

Since she joined the guild, her priorities towards her motherland had been a level above her family, even if her family was her everything. However, she was bound by an oath that transcended her own choices, an oath of duty. Every glimpse of her family, every fleeting memory of their laughter and shared moments, ran through her mind, enough to set the heaviness inside her. A lump of familiar longing, a yearning she had denied for so long, yet still had to. Duty over family. It was what her family lived by. And so, she set aside her feelings, placing the motherland above her own mother, a choice she made with a heavy heart and a lingering regret.

They left the building just as they'd arrived, a palpable tension hanging in the air. Neither the General nor the Lieutenant could shake off the weight of their own turmoil. Upon entering their transportation, the General gesture for her to follow again into the pilot room. The Lieutenant, followed silently, her gaze fixed on the sleek, silver controls that lined the cockpit. The General, her face etched with a mix of weariness and frustration, settled into the pilot's seat. She keyed in the coordinates, letting the ship's autopilot take over.

“There are Captaincy test oncoming in next three months.” the General continued, her gaze fixed on the starfield outside the viewport. “You'll be taking it.” The Lieutenant, taken aback by the unexpected assignment, looked at the General with a mixture of surprise and apprehension.

“No time for doubts, Leanne,” the General interrupted, her gaze now fixed on the towering buildings outside the viewport. “We need to keep a low profile. You reaching captaincy is the only way to avoid attracting unwanted attention.”

“Understand, General!” she said, the pounding heart betrays her façade.

Chapter Text

Somehow the residue cold winter she had remember revert back to hot summer. A summer which was an experience she had go through every solstice except this is much worst. It does not make any sense as a cycle are fixed in which after winter it should be spring. But no, it was really hot. She was sweating all over the places she could never imagine she could be sweating. For once she thought that the prejudice would turn to physical where they would play her this cruel by pouring water on her when she asleep. It is unbelievable but she read it once. Though that was not the case for she was alone in her own quarters with the glowing red seep through her window.

Perhaps the planet has turn anti-clockwise where the solstice did revert back to summer as she fell asleep. The possibility is equally likely as the Corps has been testing with the Elysium device for weeks and the temperature did rise up gradually as the result. However, it was far from their hypothesis. She sure that she can still feel the crisp bite of winter when she fell asleep last night. But now it makes her want to lose every clothes from her body, it is hot. The glowing heat feels like volcanic lava about to volatilize and no living beings should go through as it basically means that their skin were being melted off. It makes her disoriented before her mind pick up the emergency siren blaring.

She couldn’t even make any comment as her mind still trying to make sense of everything happening, past few days and current situation. The only make sense is the dread feeling she had felt since, as long as her mind is gearing up right now. It was cut short as the siren still blaring loudly and snap herself to follow the protocol when it was activated. Her body moved on autopilot, efficiently dressing her in the familiar uniform. Her hand swiftly secured her badge before she left. It confused her. Since when did she received the captaincy badge? She had just started to prepare for the test and, and she could still feel the intense muscle ache. Nothing is making any sense right now. She push everything behind as the siren still ringing.

On her way to the assembly point, she notice the slight chaos through the window. A tremor, subtle yet unsettling, shook the building, causing a hairline crack to spiderweb across the ground. For a terrifying moment, she imagined the foundation giving way, swallowing her whole. But it stopped. The insane, jarring brevity of the event sent a jolt of adrenaline through her. A cold sweat prickled her skin, a stark contrast to the sudden surge of heat that had accompanied the tremor. Ignoring the lingering unease, she swiftly picked up the pace, her boots echoing sharply on the concrete as she hurried towards the gathering point, the image of the fractured ground seared into her mind.

Upon her arrival, she noticed that most of the notable officials were already present, including the General, who were engaged in a tense, silent discussion in a secluded area. Although she knew she should be reprimanded for her tardiness, her superior remained heated in discussion and stood by. They might still face consequences at the discretion once their discussion concluded. While such scenes were not unusual in other contexts, this situation felt markedly different. Not everyone had the privilege to participate in a meeting with the General, especially not in an open setting like this. As more recruit continued to arrive, the atmosphere shifted as a powerful tremor shook the entire building, leaving everyone momentarily rooted in place.

This was not the first-time fear had gripped her soul, and it would not be the last. The tremor stopped abruptly, just as she accepted her fate — that they would all be buried alive beneath the main hall, with no chance of escape. Yet, the silence that followed was even more terrifying. Everyone either followed the strict order to stand by or were frozen in fear, afraid to move a single step for fear of compromising the foundation. She looked exasperatedly at the group of high-ranking officials, silently urging them to start giving orders instead of continuing their discussion in the middle of an earthquake. Then, just as she about to put her sight outside to observe the chaos, the General catch her gaze and beckoning her.

She salute wordlessly.

“It’s time, Captain. Just as we planned. Assist Chief Zor-El in the execution of Armageddon Protocol.” The General's gaze was grave.

“Affirmative, General.”

“May Rao’s light protect you.” A rare smile appear on the stoic general’s face, albeit bitterly, before leaving her.

She hears that the other Captain started to barking order from every corner of the hall and most of them already make their move. The situation is what they had predicted, it is crazy making but with a clear objective they become laser focus to complete their mission. Just as the General mentioned that they had planned, their main objective is to assist. She has been thoroughly briefed of the protocol and how to ensure it runs smoothly. Though, they should also contribute to the evacuation process. Of how they should move to place lesser impact area just as what has been highlighted on their plan. However, there are nowhere safe. Billions of Kryptonian are going to perish either way if they were not within the rendezvous point.

The rendezvous point that they had marked for the project Elysium is a location that they decided to reserve for the civilization subsistence. It was a difficult decision to choose which city should be reserve and which should not, in the end they pick which location that got the high point to endure the impact which is far from the center. Lots of data were filtered, countless variable were taken into the calculation and yet not even tenth of the hundreds state of Krypton are able to withstand such impact. Each of the data gathered were keyed to run a simulated environment to generate a thorough report for them to make the right decision within the time limit. However, even with all of those, she feels like there is nowhere safe to hide.

She stands in front of her troop and look at each of them intensely. Fear were written in everyone face yet they still wait for her command. There were a few faces that she never thought would ever follow her yet stand in line and show the most determination. Somehow, there were bits of memories suddenly comes to her mind with each of them on the front. It still does not make any sense to her because she remember differently. Those bits where they come together as a team, the pain, clashes, happy and every moment it makes her heart clench. They had gone through everything together and perhaps they will go through the end together. She swallowed thick air as tears threatening to pour before continue look at them again.

Straightening her shoulders, she said, “Our mission is to support Chief Jor-El with his task and ensure the Science Building evacuated swiftly. Hangar 29 will provide the necessary transport, and I trust that everyone are prepared.” She look around before continue, “Let’s move.”

In just a moment, all of them has boarded and sail on route with nervous energy thrummed in the air. The atmosphere which usually was bursting with small talk and even a low humming here and there now were zilch. Each of them spotted a tense shoulder, paired with a blank face, including hers but it is much worst. There was this hint of pain in her eyes yet no one noticed. She stared at the ground, envisioning the core keeps getting instable as the days goes by and now, she is reliving it. The evidence is apparent all around her but still everything does not make any sense. Though, that is not where her mind should prioritize because the ground suddenly explode right under them and the debris hit the craft.

The control panel were all displaying red as the craft quake unstably. They went literally spiraling after that when the chunk of large rock puncture the bottom of the craft. The nearest recruit got pulled out of the craft due to the sudden changed of pressure even when they were strapped to their seat while the rest further away are somewhat lucky. Automatic navigation were blocked as the system went haywire as it was trying to repair itself. However, the condition of the damage does not allow for a swift restoration. Thus, forcing her to take over the navigation manually while finding a way to land them safely. Looking at the ground, there are no where safe to land. They were nowhere near the designated point and are about to enter the metropolis in order to reach the Science Guild.

“Jump off the craft. Find another way to the Science Guild. Val, you in charge.” She exclaimed tensely as her eyes attach to the panel.

“Captain,” Lieutenant Tal-Or asked, her voice tight with worry, “what about you?” Her hands moved quickly as she prepared her parachute.

“We’ll meet at the Science Guild.” She eyed the red-hair gently and urge her to move along.

The Lieutenant hesitate a little before impulsively rush towards the Captain and leave a light peck on her lips, before saying “You better!” She then run towards the opening and jump off the craft without waiting for any reply.

Again, it does not make any sense. Lieutenant Tal-Or gives her affection and she receptive of it. She yearn for a mutual affection from anyone willing. However, with her status as the scorned refugees within the Military Guild, she never reach out to anyone. A Luthorians in the Military is few and far between and no Kryptonian are willing to bond with any of them. They has always been divided as far as she could remembers so the idea of a Kryptonian gives a Luthorian is definitely a crazy making. Much more a beloved one. However, her focus were draw towards the ground as she notice that another eruption would happen on the craft trajectory. Perhaps, she should brace for impact or perhaps she could navigate around it.

Nevertheless, fate made the decision for her. Another eruption materialized directly beneath her, a geyser of molten rock that ripped through the earth with terrifying force. She felt the brutal impact, the craft shuddering violently as a sizeable chunk of its right side was ripped away, leaving a gaping maw of twisted metal and exposed wiring. The air filled with the stench of burning fuel and superheated rock, a suffocating blanket of heat and debris. Adrenaline surged through her veins, overriding the terror that clawed at her throat. With a desperate cry, she wrestled with the controls, her hands slick with sweat and grime, desperately trying to navigate the crippled craft toward a safe landing zone—any place where the ground was relatively stable.

Failing that, she had to initiate a controlled explosion, to steer the crippled vessel into a less populated area, minimizing the potential for further casualties. But time, a cruel and unforgiving mistress, was a luxury she did not possess. The ground bucked and heaved again, a monstrous tremor announcing the arrival of a second eruption, even more violent than the first. It slammed into the craft, a searing wave of heat and pulverizing force that tore through the already weakened structure. Metal shrieked, wires sparked, and the air filled with the deafening roar of the explosion. There was a deafening roar, a blinding flash, and then… nothing.

She woke gasping for air, drenched in sweat, her hands reaching out, grasping at nothing. The lingering heat of the dream, shockingly realistic, left her nerves burning with a phantom intensity. The memory of it clung to her like a shroud—a suffocating weight of terror and despair that refused to dissipate. But the crisp winter air, biting against her skin like tiny needles, dragged her back to the harsh reality of her cold room. The contrast between the dream's sweltering heat and the chill of the room was jarring, a disorienting dissonance that amplified the lingering unease. The sheets were damp and cold against her skin, a stark reminder of the sweat that still clung to her body.

Just a dream? The question hung in the air, heavy and unanswered, a chilling echo of the nightmare that still pulsed within her. The lingering heat of the dream seemed to blend unnaturally with the chill of the room, creating an unsettling atmosphere that mirrored the turmoil within her mind. She rubs her face tiredly. It was not the first time that it strike but it was the first for when she survive long enough to sail the craft. There were numerous dreams where it ended with her wake up and the ceiling falls down, or the hallway collapse and even the main hall caved in. Each of them always ended up with her wakes up in the early of the morning cold sweated and gasping for air.

The morning breeze calm her nerves slightly, even when the dream still haunting her luridly. Darkness still cloaked the world outside; it was not even dawn yet. The residual explosion sound remained painfully in her mind. The morning's stillness, combined with the lingering chill, tempted her to return to sleep—a prospect her mind vehemently resisted. Sleep, which had granted her little rest, vanished as nightmares keeps hunting her. It felt as if the revelation had occurred only yesterday, even though it was weeks ago. That is when the horrid nightmares start plague her relentlessly. It was physically and mentally painful to experience, yet she knew that it is inevitable. She rises up to start the day even it was too early.

Her morning routine underwent a complete transformation to prepare her body for the grueling captaincy test. This rigorous training regime involved fifteen laps around the base, punctuated by sets of bodyweight squats, push-ups, burpees, sprints, lunges, and planks at designated points. She could start early and she did. Then she got time to spare thus, she decided to jog on the cardio machine at the training room as it would be bare of occupant at this time. This has been integrated into her routine when the nightmare starts to cling at the back of her mind, and the only thing that could distract her was pushing her body to the point of exhaustion. Thus, her body was brutally battered with no room for such thoughts. The cycle continues, and will likely continue indefinitely.

Sweat beaded on her skin, muscles tense as protest, yet her focus remained unwavering. She pushed through the burning sensation in her legs, knowing she only had one more set to complete before she could finally allow herself a moment of respite. The intense physical exertion, thankfully, provided a much-needed distraction from the graphic images of her recurring nightmare; for those moment, the torment was pushed to the back of her mind. Each repetition of the exercise was a battle against both physical and mental fatigue. Finally, with a surge of adrenaline, she finished her last set. Lost in the arduous training, she barely registered the passage of time until the arrival of new recruits at the training center.

A glance at the digital clock revealed it was a little after dawn. The burning in her muscles had subsided, replaced by a pleasant ache that spoke of exertion and accomplishment. A wave of relief washed over her as she acknowledged the completion of her grueling routine, but the lingering unease at the edge of her consciousness refused to fully dissipate; the vivid images of her nightmare still flickered at the periphery of her thoughts. She needed to clear her head, to wash away not only the sweat and grime of her workout, but also the lingering shadows of her troubled sleep. With a sigh, she headed to her quarters, the promise of a refreshing shower and a moment of quiet solitude.

Upon finish refreshing herself, she made her way to the kitchen, her stomach growling a protest against its emptiness. The sight that greeted her, however, was less than welcoming. The kitchen was full, every table and bench occupied by chattering recruits. A wave of disappointment washed over her; she had hoped for a quiet breakfast, a moment of peace before the day's challenges began. Instead, she was faced with the prospect of a crowded, noisy meal. Sighing inwardly, she began searching for a place to sit, her appetite momentarily diminished by the lack of solitude. She notices that there are just few empty seats and she did recognize few faces yet none of them are her comrade, though some were acquaintances.

Acquaintance that she barely knew as it was challenging to integrate into the Military Guild. Especially when entering them at young age because none of them befriend with her and nothing had changed since. While no one actively welcomed her, she was not subjected to overt discrimination. It was a mixed experience - in her opinion, though it is better to be ignored than to face prejudice. She heard stories of the discrimination Luthorians faced when they ventured outside, and those accounts were mostly negative. Because Luthorians seldom mingled with others thus they were viewed as an alien. Consequently, they rarely leave the compound and only leave when necessary. Those time she did notice how true those stories were.

Those stories where the weight of societal prejudice bore down on them every time they ventured beyond the familiar confines of their compound. Whispers followed them like shadows, and averted gazes spoke volumes of the unspoken hostility they faced. Their ancestry was constantly insulted and disrespected, on and on, but they never retaliate. Each step outside was a calculated risk, a constant reminder of the barriers erected against them, a stark contrast to the safety and acceptance they found within their walls. They endured harassment in ambiguous situations, yet remained silent. They gain a lot, yet acknowledge is none of them. The prejudice is something that difficult for them to change.

The prejudice faced by the Luthorians likely stems from their stark differences in various aspects, including language, beliefs, and civilization overall. In particular, the red sun of Krypton makes most Luthorians susceptible to living normally. However, she is among the few Luthorians who were exceptionally tolerate the red sun's radiation, and she is the only one stay on Krypton. Despite this, their differences should be inconsequential for an advanced civilization. The real reasons for alienating them lie in the stigma of their lineage. The surviving generation of Luthorians is on a path to redemption as they arrive on Krypton. While the Kryptonians welcome them, they impose conditions for their settlement.

Their settlement depended entirely on one condition: a complete transparency regarding their exodus and technologies. While relocating might have seemed an option, the red sun's intense radiation, coupled with dwindling supplies—especially nourishment—rendered travel impossible. Faced with this harsh reality, they reluctantly accepted the terms, prioritizing survival. This decision, born of necessity, became a pivotal moment in their history, fueling a notorious folk tale that continues to inspire future generations to surpass their ancestors' hardships. This tale of enduring the unfavorable odds has become ingrained in their culture, shaping their identity for centuries to come. And so, their legacy continues.

Their legacy has helped them reach their current state, ironically, but it is one that the Kryptonians have painted with madness, focusing on how their ancestors destroyed their own planet. This legacy is further disregarded by the Kryptonians when it comes to recognizing Luthorian contributions. Compounding this issue is the fact that, despite the Luthorians' superior advancements, ground-breaking achievements, and strategic alliances, their contributions are consistently overlooked and dismissed by the Kryptonians. While the Kryptonians benefit from Luthorian ingenuity, they fail to acknowledge its significance, treating it as inconsequential. This makes the Luthorians feel subjugated, yet there is little they can do but yearn for a home that has been destroyed.

Born under Krypton's red sun, yet she felt a profound connection to the ancestral homeland of Luthoria, a place she'd only ever known through stories. Her parents, ever-present with tales of their blue sun, had shown her simulations of its ethereal glow, casting a shimmering spectrum from a small device. She longed to experience that radiant light, to feel its warmth on her skin, something her parents had known first hand. The simulations, though breath-taking, could never truly replicate the real thing, leaving her with a bittersweet envy for their experience. She yearned to stand beneath that majestic blue sun, to feel its unique energy, and to finally experience the true beauty of her heritage.

It was their history that her parents never let them forget, she could never forget. Because, when Kryptonian celebrating their Nova Cycle, they perform a different celebration to mourn Luthoria and their loses. Apochairetismos. She remembers the tears, the tense silence of her gathering kinsman and the strength how each of them sheds tears remembering their lost one. She felt more closer to Luthoria every time they perform the prayer. As the solemn chants echoed through the air, she remembers the palpable energy enveloped them, binding their hearts in shared sorrow and resilience. Each word reveals the weight of their ancestors’ struggles before and after they arrived Krypton more so what they face daily.

One reason she joined the Military Guild was to alleviate the ongoing struggles of the Luthorians. She aimed to pave the way for Luthorians and Kryptonians to abandon their pretense of coexistence and instead unite under the same sun, creating a thriving society. However, even during her recruitment, doubts lingered. The demanding teamwork required by the Military Guild, coupled with the challenging environment, made her question whether her ambitious goal was even attainable, given her personality. The mess hall buzzed with the low hum of conversation and the clatter of cutlery a constant background noise pulls her away from the train of thought. The air hung heavy with the scent of unfamiliar spices and sweat.

Tray in hand, she steered herself toward a table where she recognized an acquaintance from her recruit training. Following their usual greeting protocol, she offered a simple, “Greetings.”