Carter and Ron flew onward, passing through thick clouds before eventually reaching a vast, flat expanse of land. A massive structure loomed in front of them.
Space Tower.
"Is this a new tower that leads to your spaceships?" Ron asked.
Carter nodded.
"What are we doing here?" Ron pressed.
"I'll tell you once we arrive," Carter replied.
"Okay," Ron said.
Soon, they reached their destination. As Carter landed, the guard in charge of the gate stood at attention and saluted. Carter returned the salute. As they approached the entrance, the doors slid open automatically, and Carter walked inside with Ron following close behind.
They stepped into a VIP lift, and it began its ascent. Through the glass walls, Ron watched soldiers training on the grounds below—some practicing marksmanship, others wrestling in combat drills. Behind them sat rows of ships, tanks, drones, and various other futuristic vehicles.
How did humanity progress this much in just eight hundred years? Ron wondered. He took a deep breath. Especially Bruce. His technology is off the charts. But how is this possible? Who could have come up with ideas like these?
"This is our new base," Carter said, breaking the silence. "It is the most advanced and futuristic facility to date."
Ron nodded. "What about the other bases? Who's looking after them?"
"Friends. My comrades," Carter replied.
"From what I remember, we didn't have any of the resources that exist today," Ron remarked. "Except for boats used by the wealthy for business... boats were our only way of transport. Something isn't right. This shouldn't be possible in only eight hundred years."
"Well, everything changed a while ago," Carter said. "Almost fifty years ago, more or less."
"What started it?" Ron asked.
"The advancement in technology and... stuff. I remember my grandfather telling me they had very hard times, but he promised that now, everything would be easy."
"So, they existed before? Are the Scars related to this?" Ron asked.
"No, that's not possible. Machinery existed before—normal things like carriages and trains. But over the past few decades, the world suddenly shifted. Industries, vehicles, everything. From the beginning until about twenty years ago, it was called the Steampunk Era."
Ron listened intently.
Carter continued, "But these past two decades, everything evolved even further. This era is called the Modern, or Information, Era."
The lift doors opened. Carter stepped out, and Ron followed.
"So, the technological spark was fifty years ago, and the last twenty years saw the biggest changes in the world," Ron summarized.
Carter nodded. "This place was never normal..." He paused, looking at Ron. "...That was what my father almost said. He told me if you want to live peacefully, live in a far-away place with very few people around."
They reached a set of double doors. Carter opened them, and Ron followed him inside.
"Your father was a wise man," Ron said. "He must be proud of what you've become."
Carter stopped in front of a large screen and offered a bitter smile. "He was not a good father... but he was a good father."
"Do you know, Carter, what it feels like to be a father?" Ron asked.
Carter looked at him, waiting.
"A father only thinks of his children," Ron continued. "I don't know what happened in your past, but a father always puts his family first. He doesn't think about what is right or wrong; he just does whatever will make his children happy. When his children suffer, he wants to take that pain onto himself twofold."
Carter's eyes widened.
"And your father was only human," Ron added. "Humans are not perfect. He may have made mistakes that upset you, but I don't think his intentions were bad."
Carter nodded slowly. "His intentions... only he can answer for those."
"The human mind is strange," Ron said. "If you focus on even a small positive thing, the mind feels hope. Until you get your answers, focus on the good things."
A voice called out from behind them. "Damn, Ron, did you become a philosopher?"
Ron turned and sighed. "What are you doing here, Akira?"
Akira held out his hand, and Ron shook it.
"You dumb man, philosophers only ask questions," Carter teased.
"No, I mean Ron spoke with such confidence it reminded me of that philosopher—Socrats or something like that," Akira said.
"Socrats?" Ron repeated.
"Socrates," Carter corrected.
"Yes, yes, him!" Akira chirped.
Ron looked at Akira with a complex expression. "What are you doing here, anyway?"
"Well, I work here, you know," Akira replied.
Carter cut in. "Akira, I want you to pull all the files for the name 'Emma.' Cover the period from thirty years ago down to ten years ago."
"Oh! Carter, Emma is a famous name. In the last few years, it was given to so many kids. And damn—thirty years to ten years? That's two whole decades!"
"Get to work!" a man yelled from behind.
Ron, Carter, and Akira turned to see a familiar face: Khain.
"Oh ho, look who's here," Ron said. "The great Khain."
"Ron, long time no see. How have you been?" Khain asked.
"Who is he?" Akira whispered into Carter's ear.
"That's Khain. I called him in for a mission," Carter said. Akira nodded.
Carter clapped his hands. "Now, enough with the greetings. Come in, everyone."
Carter handed everyone a half-mask. "Do not reveal your identities. And sit in the back."
He walked toward a library bookshelf and pushed it; it swung open like a door. Beyond it were stairs. The group descended into a hallway with three doors on the right, three on the left, and one straight ahead.
As Carter walked toward the far door, Akira whispered to Ron, "Hey, Ron. What do you think is behind those other doors?"
"Monsters," Khain interrupted.
"Yes, monsters scarier than him," Akira joked, pointing at Khain.
"Damn, Ron..." Khain said, looking at Ron with a mock-sad expression. Akira laughed.
"Shut up, wear the masks, and get inside," Ron said.
"Roger that," Khain replied.
Akira stopped for a second, and Khain gave him a death glare. A shiver ran down Akira's spine; seeing the killing intent in Khain's eyes, he scrambled to catch up with Ron.
Inside the room, Ron, Akira, and Khain took seats in the back. In front of them was a massive wooden table. A small button was set into the surface in front of every chair.
The room was filled with people, mostly men and a few women, all wearing masks.
"What is this?" Ron whispered.