Arithma City, Lemuria.
It was a calm, bright afternoon in Arithma. Sunlight filtered through the swaying leaves, carried by the gentle breeze. Rows of trees lined the road leading to the entrance of the pyramid where Arkhytirema had once been born. Most of them, trees, animals, even the soil beneath, were products of genetic engineering.
Inside the great chamber, no trace of Arkhytirema's birth remained. The pyramid room had been fully restored. The shattered hub pipes and acceleration tubes had been cleared away by the workers, and the floor, made of Kraiman crystal, (a mineral six times harder than titanium,) shone flawlessly once again. Not a single shard was left behind.
In Lemuria, not only temples but all structures, even homes, took the shape of pyramids. Their walls were forged from Kraiman crystal infused with micro-circuit nanotechnology, an elegant fusion of organic and inorganic science. When charged with energy, the crystals shimmered with colors that could be altered to suit one's taste.
The Lemurian people dressed in their traditional attire, simple and graceful, robes loosely wrapped around their bodies, paired with long trousers. The women wore veils of soft silver, woven from the same Kraiman fibers. Each thread was laced with nanotech filaments finer than silk.
Lemuria was home to exactly 897,984 citizens. Its city structure was immaculate, there were no street names, only designated sectors labeled A, B, C, and so on. For transportation between regions, they used Barqha, giant ring-shaped interdimensional portals that allowed instant travel across space.
The Lemurians were a noble and cultured race. They spoke the Zhunnda language, a tongue whose written form flowed like water, traced from right to left, mirroring the natural current of rivers and oceans.
Their bodies radiated a soft azure aura, harmonizing with the ozone layer of their planet, Ardh Grumma. The average Lemurian could command about forty percent of their innate energy, comparable to the strength of a superman. Flying, emitting energy beams from their eyes, even parting the sea, these feats were commonplace among them.
Their society was led by Rhamidaar, a coordinator rather than a ruler. His role was to convene the monthly council to discuss both internal and external matters. Communication throughout the civilization was maintained through a centralized neural network called Probe, anchored at the heart of their information nexus, Chintrumma.
Their creed was simple: maximize this moment, this day, this breath.
News of Arkhytirema's birth had spread across the city, bringing joy and awe. Many believed he was a miracle, an emissary of the universe itself. His energy mastery registered at sixty percent, though still unstable. By comparison, ordinary humans could barely reach 2.5 percent.
Lemurian infants, even under a year old, could already speak fluently, leap great heights, and possessed bodies that never fell ill. Arkhytirema was no exception, though his powers exceeded all others. Like any child, he loved to play, to run, to test his limits. But there was one particular pastime he found irresistible.
"Why are all the buildings shaped like triangles? So pointy..." he mused, gazing at a nearby home. "Hmm... maybe I'll lift one."
With a single hand, he grasped the pyramid-shaped house as if it were a pebble. The occupants inside screamed in shock as their home rose into the air. They quickly flew out, hovering in disbelief.
They found themselves staring at a laughing child, joyfully twirling their massive home in his hand.
"Unbelievable," thought the homeowner, chuckling and shaking his head. "It usually takes ten men to lift that structure, and this child plays with it like a twig."
His wife floated beside him and, reading his thoughts through telepathy, replied gently, "Let him be. Arkhytirema is simply exploring his own strength."
"I know," the man answered with a smile. "I'm not angry, just... still not used to living among a baby who could crush mountains. But seeing him laugh like that, it warms the heart."
Suddenly, Arkhytirema tossed the house toward them playfully. They dodged in a flash. The building slammed into the ground, shaking the earth like a quake and scattering its contents into debris.
With motherly patience, the woman spoke aloud this time, with mouth. "That's enough, young one. I think it's time you learn to control your power."
Arkhytirema only laughed louder, thinking they were inviting him to play again.
Soon after, his parents decided to enroll him in Prodimaar, Lemuria's universal education system. Schooling began the day after birth and continued until the age of twenty-one. Prodimaar academies existed in countless forms, some on Ardh Grumma, others scattered across distant galaxies, each tailored to develop specific abilities within the child.
Students could roam freely, and teachers, called Profilers, had to be capable of keeping up. To teach in Prodimaar was no small task; an instructor had to be versatile, skilled in multiple disciplines, and lead by example, for Prodimaar education was not built on theory but on direct experience. One child, one curriculum.
The first stage of Prodimaar, in truth, had already been completed during Arkhytirema's birth, when he downloaded the full knowledge of his parents through genetic imprint. The second stage involved active learning, divided into physical formation, the Teachings of WISHNU, simulation training, and technological mastery. The knowledge encoded at birth would later be awakened and refined during this phase.
Everyone in Lemuria knew that Arkhytirema was unlike any child who had ever lived—far stronger than anyone before him.
The question that lingered across the minds of the council, the teachers, and even Rhamidaar himself was this:
Who could possibly be worthy of teaching a being like Arkhytirema?