The synthetic sun of Stellar Academy's inner ring cast a warm light as Kael Renn stepped off the shuttle and into the gravity lock. For a second, his body resisted, unused to the slightly higher pull compared to Velora Prime. Then his boots found the deck, his spine adjusted, and he moved forward without hesitation.
Around him, recruits staggered from the shuttle like newborn colts—some gripping bags too big for them, others wide-eyed at the massive docking bay. Kael walked through them like a ghost. Observing. Calculating.
A screen flared.
"Welcome to Stellar Academy – Cadet Registration Open"
Location: Hall A1 – Sector Blue
He followed the arrows etched into the floor, past murals of legendary battles—starships clashing in skies the color of old blood, towering mechs locked in duels on shattered moons. Every image whispered a single truth:
Here, only excellence survives.
Registration
The queue for registration was a long serpent of nerves. Officers in black-and-silver uniforms worked behind the glass counters, their expressions carved from granite. Kael approached one of them, a lean woman with steel-gray eyes.
"Name," she said without looking up.
"Kael Renn."
She tapped her console. "Origin?"
"Velora Prime."
That got her attention. She glanced up, one brow raised.
"Planetary agricultural sector?" she asked.
"Yes."
A pause. Then a nod.
"You're early. I'll process you now." Her fingers flew across the screen. "Dorm assignment: Tower G, Room 777. Orientation begins tomorrow at 11:00 hours sharp. Uniforms and datapad are in your room. No loitering."
The datapad beeped as it synced to his biometric ID. The moment he touched it, his schedule populated with cold, efficient precision.
Stellar Academy – Cadet Kael Renn
Dorm: G-777
He nodded once and walked off.
Dorm 777
Tower G was a monolith of obsidian glass and armored steel. Room 777 sat near the top—a narrow, efficient space with sharp corners and a view of the pale-blue dwarf star beyond the station's hull.
Inside, Kael found a single bunk, a fold-out study desk, a locker, and a bathroom barely big enough to turn around in. But it was clean, functional, and—most importantly—his.
He placed his bag on the bed and let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
No family. No noise. No fields whispering in the wind.
Just silence. And stars.
He stood at the window for a long while, watching ships glide through the academy's massive docking rings—training cruisers, supply barges, even a Leviathan-class dreadnought in the distance, its shape like a sleeping god.
With the ceremony not until morning, most cadets explored. Others rested. Kael chose solitude.
He unpacked slowly—his old datapads, a photo of his father in the rice fields, a necklace made from Veloran copperstone. He placed it on the desk like a silent oath.
Then he sat on the bunk and opened his academy-issued datapad. The interface flared to life—access to public cadet networks, military databases, class records, starship schematics, even recommended reading for future officers.
He devoured it all.
From tactical fleet formations to mecha joint maneuvering protocols, Kael's mind tore through the material like a storm tearing through a wheat field. Each page, each file, each tutorial was a step away from the mud of Velora Prime and a step toward the command deck of a starship.
By the time lights dimmed in the tower hallways, he had consumed the equivalent of a semester's worth of officer prep.
He didn't stop to rest. He didn't need to.
This was where the game began.
Morning arrived with mechanical precision. Soft chimes echoed through the dorm tower. The glass walls of the academy brightened gradually, simulating the sunrise of Solris System III.
Kael stood already dressed in his uniform—black with silver trim, freshly pressed, insignia of a provisional cadet gleaming at the shoulder. The fabric was unfamiliar, but it fit him well. Like armor.
At exactly 10:30, he left his dorm. The halls were bustling with movement—cadets of every world and station, chattering nervously, tugging at their uniforms, checking schedules.
Kael moved through them like gravity itself—silent, unyielding.
The Grand Forum loomed ahead, a vast circular arena suspended in zero-G, with tiered platforms that spiraled toward the central stage like a galactic amphitheater. Above, the academy's insignia rotated—golden eye in a starburst crown.
And below it, the future waited.