The Command Hall pulsed with light and sound—holographic displays floated in midair, each one flickering with streams of data, planetary scans, gravitational shifts, and chaotic bursts of raw numbers. The central projector, a massive column of crystal and carbon, cast rotating 3D models of energy signatures in gold and crimson hues.
President Orion stood at the apex of the chamber, tall and composed in his obsidian uniform. The very air around him seemed to still when he spoke, as though the room understood the weight of his authority.
Dr. Elara Voss stepped forward, her lab coat whipping behind her from the air recyclers' hiss. The tablet in her hands glowed faintly, displaying a clustered spectrum of energy spikes. "Sir, we've completed our preliminary analysis of the golden light. The energy signatures are... unprecedented. High frequency, chaotic flux, but with unparalleled potential. It's unstable, yes—but incredibly potent. If properly channeled, it could outmatch the Vulcros Engine a hundredfold."
Orion's eyes, a cool steel-gray, flicked to her tablet. "Harnessing it... is that theoretically possible?"
Elara hesitated. "We don't know yet. But even a fragment of that power could revolutionize propulsion, terraforming—possibly weaponry."
"And the origin?"
She brought up a rotating map—topographical lines forming a crater-like formation in the eastern sectors. "Here. Near what remains of Umoja. We tracked the initial surge to this location. But after the flash, residual anomalies began spreading outward in a radial pattern. Weather disturbances, magnetic shifts, electrical surges. We've even seen localized gravitational warping."
Orion studied the map. "So it didn't just vanish. It scarred the land."
"It left a... residue," Elara replied carefully. "As if reality was briefly rewritten—and then tried to revert."
A tense silence settled over the room.
Before she could elaborate, Dr. Kian Marrow stepped forward. His fingers flew across his tablet, opening new data windows that linked to oceanic scans and thermal anomalies. "Mr. President, there's more. The eastern seas—specifically the region bordering Aquilanor—are experiencing elevated energy levels. But it's not just environmental. It's biological."
Orion turned slowly. "Explain."
Kian zoomed in on undersea structures—glowing cities nestled in trenches lit by bioluminescent flora. "The Aquilans' natural energy-conversion systems are accelerating. Their underwater engine—long considered a marvel of sustainable energy—has become... something else. We've recorded enhancements to their physical abilities. They're faster, stronger, more adaptive. Agricultural growth has doubled. Infrastructure is expanding. And it's not random."
"They're building toward something," Orion muttered.
Kian nodded. "Exactly. It's coordinated. And controlled. Satellite footage suggests they're not just reacting to the energy—they're using it."
Orion turned to the center of the room, watching as images of Aquilanor's domed cities spun in holographic rotation. His gaze narrowed.
"Supernatural capabilities?"
"Sir, we don't use that word lightly. But yes. This isn't evolution—it's an escalation. Their abilities now exceed the known limits of their biology."
Elara leaned closer. "And we suspect the surge from the golden light is responsible. It may have interacted with the ocean's mineral-rich environment—or with the Aquilans themselves."
Orion's jaw tensed. "This engine… it could be the key to stabilizing Vulcros. And they have it."
His voice dropped to a hard whisper. "What are they doing with it?"
Kian hesitated, glancing toward the others before pulling up a final set of images—these less clear, taken at extreme depths. "We've observed structures being constructed—massive reactors or armories, we're not sure. Some appear to be channeling energy directly from ocean vents. Others resemble... weapon arrays."
Orion folded his arms, his voice sharp. "And they think no one's watching."
"They're careful. Stealth fields are increasing. We're lucky to have caught this much."
The room went quiet again, tension crackling like static in the air.
Finally, Orion spoke, each word deliberate. "Then we need to know everything. Assemble a stealth team. Use cloaked drones, submersible scouts—anything that can get in and out without detection. I want visuals. Blueprints. Power readings. And above all—answers."
A voice cut through the tension—calm but strained.
Dr. Jarek Solis, materials science lead, stepped forward from the shadows. "Sir, breaching Aquilanor's perimeter… it could be interpreted as an act of war. They've been isolationist for decades. Any sign of espionage could provoke a retaliation."
Orion turned, his expression unreadable. "Then make sure they don't see us. We have the stealth capacity. Use it. Every second we hesitate, they get stronger."
He paused, then looked at each scientist in turn.
"If this engine is the key, we cannot afford to let it slip through our fingers. I don't care what diplomatic protocol says. We're talking about a new form of energy—something that bends natural law. If Aquilanor is hiding the truth, we will uncover it."
Solis lowered his gaze and nodded grimly.
The team dispersed quickly, moving with renewed urgency.
Orion turned back toward the main display. The golden light's energy signature pulsed gently in the center of the room, orbiting the image of the submerged cities. But something in his mind itched—a detail unresolved.
He recalled the Council Meeting—the moment the golden light first appeared.
The Aquilans had been there.
Emperor Istrian Suyar had watched it and unlike the others, he was quickly to blame it on some natural disturbances, as if hiding something .
"Umoja... Aquilanor... ," he murmured. "It's all connected."
A faint smile curled on his lips—but it was cold now, predatory.
"Let's see what you're really hiding, Emperor Suyar."