“That should do it,” I muttered, closing the armor’s compartment. The metallic click echoed with the satisfaction of a job well done; or at least one that soon would be. “With this adjustment, the movement sensitivity will decrease so you can adapt to the controls and gradually increase it over time.”

  “Great, I’d been having trouble getting used to these new models. I’m more familiar with the older, clunkier training versions,” a voice above my head replied as he checked and moved the limb.

  “Though I should warn you it’ll take some time before the controls become fully precise,” I didn’t forget to mention.

  “No problem, I don’t fear a little training,” answered the soldier seated in the cockpit.

  It’s Lieutenant Alex. A young man with a slim build and average height, with bright, slightly messy blond hair and rge blue eyes that show constant alertness. His skin is fair, and his face still carries youthful features. He moves with precision, though with the stiffness of someone still adapting to service. He still radiates vitality and future ambitions.

  It’s obvious he hasn’t yet succumbed to this soulless machine that is service to the kingdom. I can’t wait to see him at my age… well, he’s only a year younger, but a year is enough to end up this bitter. Though, in his defense, having an assigned armor at his age means he must be rather talented.

  “These youngsters…” I mutter like an old man.

  It’s been three weeks since my conversation with old Jacks, and I’ve been aboard the Horizon Seeker for two weeks. The old man was right; the expedition has been quite calm. We set sail from the Frontier Port Gratitude without major issues, and so far I’ve only had to do small tasks like this.

  “Although I must admit it’s a pleasure to work with armor of such high quality,” I say as I look around the pce, filled with rge humanoid-shaped machines kneeling in orderly rows.

  They look like twenty-meter giants asleep inside their cold metal suits, armed with the test military technology the kingdom can offer. These are the armors: gigantic robots humanity pilots to face everything this universe has to throw at us. Because, let’s be honest, our small bodies—adapted to gentler environments—aren’t enough to compete with the rest of the cosmos’ inhabitants.

  “Impressive, isn’t it?” said Alex, gazing with an enraptured look at the beautiful robots, imposing in their burgundy-and-bronze color scheme. “I was stunned when I saw the Leonidas units on board, too. You don’t get to pilot the test armor models every day.”

  I’d like to ugh at him, but I know my expression must be the same right now. Can’t bme me; ever since I graduated, I’ve only been assigned to old, outdated ships that are used to receiving the kingdom’s obsolete equipment. It’s my first time working with state-of-the-art machines.

  “And the Seeker is no slouch either,” I can’t help but look around the hangar we’re in which, despite being filled with massive twenty-meter armors, doesn’t feel crowded at all; everything is perfectly arranged, as if every machine knew its pce.

  Our ship is the best the kingdom has to offer: a vessel over a thousand meters long, equipped with a hangar full of armors and a dozen patrol ships. It even has a miniature stelr catapult; I didn’t even know they could be installed on ships of this kind yet. And if that weren’t enough, it also has a cutting-edge ether generator capable of producing an astounding amount of energy, surpassed only by the Protector-css and the colossal Dominion-css ships. On top of that, it’s equipped with a self-regenerating ether shield, a newly implemented technology that only we carry.

  I could go on all day: the Seeker is impressive in every detail. But the cherry on top is its advanced drone-mapping system, thanks to which exploration missions that once took months can now be completed in mere weeks.

  “Yeah, we’re lucky to have been selected for this mission,” Alex tells me.

  “You can say that again,” I reply, making a mental note to thank the old man for the recommendation when I get back.

  “All personnel, the captain requests your presence in the observatory. All personnel, the captain requests your presence in the observatory.”

  Suddenly, a message begins to echo throughout the ship.

  “Looks like there’s an emergency,” I tell Alex as we both start heading toward the observatory.

  “I don’t think it’s anything serious; otherwise the message would be an order, not a request,” he says.

  “Poor inexperienced Alex; anything the captain says is an order,” I reply, quickening my pace.

  “Really?” he asks, not fully convinced.

  “I’ll put it this way: the st time I thought a call was just a suggestion, I ended up having to hand-polish every single armor on my previous ship.”

  “Aren’t there systems that do that automatically?” he looks at me, confused.

  “Of course there are…” I pause briefly. “And when I pointed that out, I ended up polishing the ships too.”

  ***

  We arrive at the designated pce, where part of the crew has already gathered. The observatory is a rge oval hall reminiscent of a concert venue, filled with seats that surround a central ptform. Above our heads stretches the cosmos in all its magnitude, visible through the transparent panels covering the ceiling.

  You’d think it would be dangerous to have such rge windows on a ship, but it’s not gss nor anything like that. It’s made of mirage, a specially designed alloy as resistant as the rest of the hull but capable of turning transparent under certain stimuli; we can turn the effect on or off at will. It’s a very expensive material, and I had never seen it used to cover such a rge space before.

  “We can sit over there,” Alex suggests, pointing at some seats on the outer edge of the oval.

  “So you’re one of those who sit in the back row. No offense, but I thought you’d be the type to sit up front, ready to take notes,” I say as I sit down.

  “Usually, yes, but I’m trying to break some of the academy’s old habits.”

  We chat for a while until the observatory fills up and the lights begin to dim. Then a figure appears on the central stage, illuminated by a spotlight. It’s a man of about fifty. His beard, though not thick, gives him a stern—yet not unkempt—air. His posture is as straight as a spear, and he wears the uniform so naturally it seems like an extension of his body. I can’t imagine him wearing anything else: a man who has lived for and by the kingdom’s military. Without a doubt, this is Captain Mason.

  Without waiting for an order, we all stand to greet him.

  “You may be seated,” the captain tells us. “You’re probably wondering why I gathered you here.”

  At his words, the observatory’s projectors turn on and fill the space with maps and mission data.

  “As you know, we are part of the expedition that will explore and map the new expansion zone ZD41. The mission will be retively short; we expect to have the sector fully mapped within a month after arrival, thanks to the drone-mapping system and the stelr catapult.

  We all cheer; the mission is simple and, on top of that, very well paid.

  “You’re fools if you think you can rex and enjoy the trip!” the captain scolds us angrily. “There is no such thing as a free meal or an easy mission. You think that because we have the test technology and it’s a short assignment, you can treat it like a vacation?” he reprimands us harshly.

  I look at Alex beside me; he shrugs with a grimace.

  “You forget that we’re entering unexplored space! You forget that ever since the discovery of Ether, our race has had to fight for its pce on the Rim!”

  The entire observatory falls silent.

  “If you’ve forgotten, I’ll make sure to remind you,” the captain says, sweeping the seats with his gaze.

  “Captain, we’re receiving an allied transmission.” A voice from the speakers breaks the tension.

  “Perfect timing, let us hear it.”

  “This is the Dominion-css destroyer Royal Graveyard Caretaker. You are entering restricted space. Turn around or prepare to be destroyed.”

  Every hair on my body stands on end. A shiver of pure terror runs through me. A Dominion-css ship had us in its sights. I can feel the temperature in the room drop; not due to any environmental setting, but from the fear spreading through the crew. Our ship, the Seeker, was the most advanced the kingdom had to offer, yes, but we were facing a power that had long surpassed the irrational: the kingdom’s vengeful fist.

  There are two types of supermassive destroyers, machines capable of altering entire sor systems. First are the Protector-css, war giants assigned to the kingdom’s most important pnets. Their mission is simple: defend us from whatever crawls out of the cosmos. No one—not the craziest pirate, not the boldest alien, not even the most fanatical army—dares to attack a pnet guarded by a Protector. Everyone trembles at the sight of these moon-sized superstructures.

  And above even them, like gods of destruction, are the Dominion-css. Against these pnet-annihiting machines, even the Protectors are defenseless. Their primary function is a decration: to reaffirm the absolute control their masters hold over vast territories. No noble, no matter how ambitious, would dare even consider rebellion, knowing a Dominion could appear in their skies and be the st thing they ever saw before being reduced to stardust.

  Only six Dominion-css ships exist in the entire kingdom. Four patrol the territories of the four dukes, keeping order and peace. Another stands in the capital, serving directly under the royal family. The sixth… the sixth is an oddity: stationed in a location that is neither strategic nor poputed. But it was a pce known by every inhabitant of the kingdom. No; every inhabitant of the Man's Rim knew it.

  A shiver ran down my spine. I already knew where we were.

  “This is Captain Mason of the expedition vessel Horizon Seeker. I have special authorization to cross this location,” the captain replied through the microphone.

  At those words, murmurs rippled through the observatory. I felt my blood quicken; I turned to Alex and found him in a state simir to mine. I can’t lie: I’ve always wanted to visit this pce at least once, maybe even record a projection for my channel. Though… maybe not. It doesn’t feel quite right to record here, knowing what this pce is.

  Before I could calm my excitement, the voice on the comms sounded again:

  “Authorization for the vessel Horizon Seeker has been confirmed. You have three homeworld sor cycles to leave or you will be removed by force. You are forbidden from damaging any object within the pantheon, and do not even think of attempting to take anything. Such an offense will be punished with the full might of the Royal Graveyard Caretaker.

  “Understood. May their sacrifice not be forgotten,” the captain responded.

  “And may their glory be eternal.” With that phrase, communication with the Graveyard Caretaker ended.

  The entire crew let out a sigh of relief. We could breathe again, free from the threat of being vaporized on the spot. But now all our eyes turned toward the captain.

  “Begin the entry,” he ordered through his communicator, without the slightest intention of expining anything to us.

  The ship started to move and, after a few moments, we saw it: the rgest ship graveyard in the entire Man's Rim: the Pantheon of the Princesses.

  —Impressive, —Alex murmured beside me.

  The sight was truly incredible: millions of ships floating in the void of space in complete silence, bearing the worst damage I’ve ever seen in my time as a mechanic for the kingdom. Many were just twisted chunks of metal, so much so that I hesitate to call them “ships” at all. Destroyers, frigates, bombers, deployment vessels, great warships, armor-carriers, supply transports; fragments of Protector and Dominion-css ships scattered here and there left us speechless.

  And in the middle of that vast metallic tomb, something broke the monotony: a pink glow shining with an intensity impossible to look away from. It was a warm light that wrapped around you gently, like a maternal embrace: the brightest star in the heavens, unique in its kind, the one that guides sailors back to the kingdom, back home.

  “I’d heard the stories like everyone else, but seeing it in person is something else entirely,” Alex said, as awestruck as I was.

  “The Final Radiance,” I whispered.

  “Seven hundred and fifty-two years ago, in this very pce, the worst war the Kingdom of Altar has known since its founding was fought. In fact, it was the bloodiest conflict between humans ever seen in the Man's Rim. Four of the five powers on the Rim united to attack the Kingdom of Altar,” Captain Mason’s voice resonated throughout the observatory, breaking the trance that the silent magnitude of that stelr graveyard had cast over us. “And do you know how all of this began?” he asked as he swept his gaze over the crew.

  Know? Of course I know! Everyone knows. I even have a six-hour projection on my EtherNet channel about that war. A cssic for sleepless nights.

  “Greed,” someone in the crowd answered.

  “Envy,” said another.

  “Hatred,” added a third.

  Captain Mason smiled, a thin, disapproving curve.

  “You’re all wrong. All of this: the unprecedented destruction, the vast number of lives lost, the many heroes who sleep here… it all began with an exploration mission.”

  I was sitting in the observatory, now less crowded, lost in my thoughts as I gazed at the graveyard outside the ship. The captain’s words echoed in my mind.

  “An exploration mission, huh?” I murmured to myself.

  “You’re still here?” a voice asked as it handed me a coffee.

  “I just want to admire the view a little longer,” I replied as I took the cup from his hands. “Thanks.”

  “Thinking about the captain’s words?” Alex asked me.

  “Yeah… and looking at the scenery. It’s not every day you get to enter the Pantheon of the Princesses without being turned to dust.”

  “Do you think we’ll find a relic on this expedition?”

  I considered his words.

  Relics—powerful artifacts with incredible abilities—distort every concept of what we consider possible, whether by the ws of the universe or by our own sense of logic. Finding an artifact could change the course of a kingdom’s development, guiding its progress into the next era. It’s believed they were left behind by a civilization so ancient that, were it not for the relics, we’d never even know they existed. We don’t know what they looked like or how they lived; we’ve found nothing that tells us who they were. That’s why we call them the Ancients: it’s the only thing we know, that they were here before us.

  “Who knows. It’s every explorer’s dream to find a relic, but it can turn into a nightmare—like the Sparrow of Altar,” I said, gncing toward the Pantheon.

  The expeditionary vessel Sparrow of Altar was a ship sent to explore what is now known as the Pantheon of the Princesses seven hundred fifty-two years ago, where they discovered ruins containing a relic of the Ancients. Overjoyed with their achievement and blinded by the rewards and glory that awaited them, the crew sent a message to the capital reporting their discovery and its location, then sat back to wait for the kingdom’s delegation.

  However, it was the enemy fleets—from the republic, the union, and the theocracy—that reached them first and destroyed the Sparrow to seize the relic, since, according to the treaties, anything goes as long as the artifact remains within the exploration zone.

  Upon learning of this, the kingdom readied its fleet and, aware of the scale of the conflict, allied with the empire to face the other three powers; though they hoped to deter them simply with numbers, since no relic was worth a full-scale war. Little did the kingdom know the entire war was a trap. When they arrived at the battlefield, they were ambushed by both external and internal enemies. Surrounded, the kingdom sacrificed its greatest heroes in one final maneuver to break the siege and retreat to the capital, fortifying it for what would become the final battlefield.

  In the end, the war was a complete disaster. Everyone involved suffered catastrophic losses that would take centuries to recover from, and no one gained anything; not even the relic, which was lost amid the chaos of battle. Even so, the kingdom stood firm, outnumbered four to one, achieving a bittersweet victory, for the cost was tremendous. Our army was nearly wiped out; if everyone else hadn’t been just as devastated, the kingdom would’ve been invaded by other powers. On top of that, we lost six princesses during the war, and the remaining three were severely damaged.

  The kingdom swore their sacrifice would not be forgotten and ordered the creation of the Pantheon, where their remains now rest beside the greatest battlefield on record.

  “Don’t stay too te,” Alex said as he headed off to rest in the quarters.

  “Yeah, I’ll just be here a little longer,” I replied.

  I looked out the window, trying to grasp the scale of the battle fought here. Ships from all nations y scattered as if they were stones tossed along a path. Great machines that once roared and fought now y dead, floating in the void. The only sign of life was the light of the Radiance, covering everything.

  “Rest in peace, Princesses,” is all I can say for the souls that remained here.