Chapter 2

The Academy’s halls always seemed too immaculate.

James particularly felt this on days when he struggled to concentrate on the lectures. The corridors were sculpted from gleaming stone, their walls interwoven with delicate strands of fusion crystal that emitted a gentle glow, reminiscent of sunlight captured in veins. Every surface sparkled with cleanliness. Every system functioned precisely as intended.

There was no chaos here.

There was no uncertainty here.

Yet, James could not shake off thoughts of the trade report.

He positioned himself towards the back of Professor Malric’s lecture hall, fixated on a rotating model of the Alder Sun that was projected above the central platform. The hologram displayed its layered fusion core, with the energy lattice maintaining the artificial star that had nourished Alderian for centuries.

“The Sun is not just a source of power,” Professor Malric was explaining. “It embodies the symbolic heart of our civilization. It signifies balance. Stability. Patience.”

James stole a glance at the clock embedded in his desk.

Two hours until the afternoon break.

His foot tapped anxiously against the floor.

Mara, seated across the aisle, noticed this.

She leaned in slightly. “You’re doing that thing again.”

“What is it?”

“The one where your mind drifts away.”

“My mind is right here.”

“No, it isn’t.”

She lowered her voice. “You’re dwelling on what Kael mentioned.”

James remained silent.

Because she was correct.

As the lecture concluded, students exited in loose clusters into the transit hallways. The Academy was situated at the base of one of Alderian’s inner mountains, its terraces overlooking the central valley like a grand amphitheater.

James was halfway down the corridor when someone tugged at his sleeve.

Kael.

“Come walk with me,” he whispered.

Mara sighed softly. “This already seems like a terrible idea.”

Kael guided them away from the main crowd and down a service stairwell that curved along the mountain’s wall. The air became cooler as they went down, and the glow of the crystal lighting was dimmer in this area.

“You’re being paranoid,” Mara remarked.

“I’m just observant,” Kael countered.

They arrived at a maintenance balcony that overlooked the industrial sectors below. Huge freight carriers traveled along suspended rails, moving crystal containers from the mining tunnels deeper within the mountain.

Kael leaned against the railing.

“Watch.”

One of the cargo carriers slowed as it neared a checkpoint platform. Several security officers stepped forward, scanning the container with handheld devices.

James frowned.

“Crystal shipments get scanned all the time.”

“Not those.”

Kael pointed.

James squinted.

The container lacked the usual mining insignia. Instead, it featured a slender silver band along its side – a symbol that was unfamiliar to James.

The guards briefly opened the cargo hatch.

Inside, James caught a glimpse of something metallic and compact – not raw crystals.

Equipment.

“Observation tech,” Kael whispered.

“For what?” Mara inquired.

“The surface.”

James felt his heart race.

“That doesn’t prove anything,” Mara quickly retorted.

Kael shrugged. “Maybe not.”

The cargo hatch closed.

However, instead of proceeding toward the energy processing districts, the railcar veered onto a secondary track that delved deeper into the mountain.

Toward the restricted sectors.

James turned to Kael. “Where does that track lead?”

Kael’s grin was slow and menacing.

“Archives.”

Mara’s eyes widened. “No.”

“Yes,” Kael replied.

“You can’t be serious.”

Kael looked at James instead of her.

“They keep observational data there. Long-term monitoring records. Surface climate scans. Satellite intercepts.”

“You have no idea about that,” Mara remarked.

“I work in the mines,” Kael responded. “I witness what traverses the tunnels.”

James experienced an unusual tug in his chest.

Curiosity intertwined with something more intense.

Hope.

“If the surface is truly healing,” he spoke slowly, “those archives would reveal it.”

“Precisely.”

Mara interjected, positioning herself between them. “You’re both out of your minds.”

“No,” Kael replied with composure. “We’re simply curious.”

“And curiosity leads to people being reassigned.”

James recalled the word restricted shining on the trade log.

“If there’s nothing concealed,” he murmured, “then investigating wouldn’t be an issue.”

Mara fixed her gaze on him.

“You’re genuinely contemplating this.”

“Contemplating uncovering the truth.”

“The truth as per Kael?” she retorted.

Kael crossed his arms. “You can choose to remain safe and uninformed if that’s what you prefer.”

“That’s not the essence of this.”

“Then what is it?”

Before Mara could respond, a piercing alarm suddenly resonated through the industrial area below.

All three of them stood still.

The freight railcar they had been observing had halted abruptly midway along the restricted track. Red warning lights began to flash along the platform.

Security personnel hurried forward.

“What happened?” Mara whispered.

James leaned farther over the railing.

One of the cargo locks had partially opened. Inside the container, a piece of equipment had slid free. For a split second, James could see its display panel. The screen flickered with images.

Not charts.

Not numbers.

Clouds.

White clouds drifting across a brilliant blue sky. The cargo hatch slammed shut as guards hurried to secure it.

But James had already seen enough.

The surface was alive.

Kael slowly exhaled beside him.

“Well,” he said.

Mara’s voice was barely audible.

“Oh no.”

James turned toward the mountain tunnels.

If the archives held proof…

Then Alderian had been watching the surface for an exceptionally long time.

And someone had decided the rest of the nation did not deserve to know.

Behind them, the Academy bells rang again, signaling the end of the break. But none of them moved.

Because for the first time in their lives, the perfect certainty of Alderian had cracked.

And something beyond the mountains was waiting on the other side.