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The Heavenly Court
The central plaza of the Space City was a vacuum. A massive expanse of silent, cold steel floating in the void. Generating artificial gravity across such open space would require enormous energy, and with nothing built yet, it was unnecessary.
The delegation floated weightless, looking like fish navigating invisible currents. They propelled themselves toward equipment racks mounted near the gate. Silver-white thruster packs hung there, gleaming under starlight.
Marshal Thompson grabbed a pack, strapped it on, and pressed the ignition. Plasma flared from the thrusters, stabilizing him. The others followed, jets engaged, soaring over the desolate plaza. Some younger aides couldn't resist barrel rolls, their silent laughter evident in wide grins.
They flew for miles, the distant structure gradually dominating their vision until they arrived at a massive palace. The plaque above read: Lingxiao Palace.
"It's very... industrial," one official murmured over comms. The structure was grand in scale but constructed entirely of black bio-metal, unpainted and raw. "Not exactly welcoming."
"It's the framework," Thompson said. "Aesthetics come later."
In the past five years, focus had been building this platform—a lifeboat for humanity if Earth became uninhabitable. Actual city construction was secondary. Currently, only the docking station and this main administrative hall existed. The rest was empty metal plain.
Inside, the palace followed a grand hall design but modernized. Command consoles lined the walls instead of thrones.
They proceeded to the rear—the Space City's nerve center. An automated marvel. Hundreds of virtual screens floated in the air as the station's AI maintained life support, orbit, and structural integrity.
They took a high-speed elevator deeper, emerging into a vast hangar occupying half the palace's volume. Empty, cavernous, open to the void through a massive retractable dome.
"We're experiencing severe energy shortages," a technician reported. "If Dr. Ryan doesn't return soon, we'll have to pause construction. We're running on reserves."
"The bio-metal supply chain has also been disrupted," another added. "Political tensions are affecting logistics."
Thompson looked up at the stars visible through the dome. "We wait. We committed to this path. Too late to turn back now."
They turned to leave—
"Sir! Situation!" Thompson's assistant shouted, pointing up.
Everyone tensed, then relaxed as Thompson smiled. "That's Dr. Ryan's magic."
A huge scarlet teleportation circle appeared in the void above, expanding rapidly. Through it, they glimpsed not landscape but a wall of grey-white metal filling their vision.