The skies of Helios-9 burned in slow motion.
From the observation deck of the Astra Genesis, Rolan Newstar watched the amber storms swirl across the gas giant's surface, each vortex large enough to swallow Earth ten times over. Lightning arced through clouds of methane and ammonia, painting the void in fleeting flashes of blue and gold.
To most humans, this sight of chaos is enough to send them scurrying light-years from this system. To Rolan, this was merely his day job. The kind of sight he has become numb to ever since graduating 12 years ago. His thick black hair, combed neatly in a middle part, rests calmly above his creased forehead as he goes over diagrams and numbers on a screen.
"Adjust Sector Delta's compression ratio by 0.03," he said, voice calm and precise. Dozens of holographic interfaces shimmered around him as his crew scrambled to follow. The Terraforming Array, a network of orbital reactors encircling the planet, shifted in response, firing beams of plasma and stabilizing the gas layers.
Even the smallest of changes was quite obvious and result-altering when taken in at scales like this.
"Report," he said.
"Atmospheric balance within acceptable parameters," replied a synthetic voice. "Projected livability: forty-three percent within the next decade."
He folded his arms, eyes sharp beneath the reflection of countless data streams. Forty-three percent wasn't enough. The Terraforming Authority demanded results. Investors demanded perfection. And I demand rest. Rolan had spent twelve years rising through the ranks, from a systems engineer to one of the youngest Terraform Commanders in the Sol Dominion's history. Now he stood at the edge of one of humanity's outermost frontiers, one star system out of hundreds of thousands under human control.
Even though he initially felt proud of his success, now he just felt absolute boredom. All he did was calculate, plan, and bark orders. Sometimes he even had to be the one who was barked at.
"Commander," said a voice from behind. His assistant, Leira, approached with a datapad.
"Central Command just pushed another directive. They want the atmosphere seeded within seventy-two hours."
Rolan didn't turn. "Impossible."
"They said you'd say that."
Of course they did. The higher-ups never cared about the math, only the headlines. He was truly tired of dealing with politicians and upper brass who lived in unknown light-years from the fringes of the dominion. Every time, they would force him to expedite already tight projects and have the crew work overtime. Even the machines need rest.
He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Run a predictive model. If we increase plasma throughput by even five percent, what happens?"
Leira hesitated. "Chain reaction. Catastrophic instability in less than an hour."
Rolan finally looked at her, his expression unreadable. "Then I suppose we'll be making history one way or another."
He keyed in the override command. He was done with all the words and empty promises from his higher-ups. This time, he didn't care if the terraforming devices overheated or shut down or broke down. He would find a way to force them to give everyone a break, even if it meant causing some damage to the systems and the planet. He just wouldn't do anything irreversible. They wouldn't punish someone as diligent and talented as him.
[Authorization: Commander Rolan Newstar — Level Omega Clearance][Warning: Atmospheric Stability Below Safe Threshold]Proceed?
He pressed Yes.
At first, it worked beautifully. The gas layers began to thin and swirl in harmony, forming visible stratification bands, the foundation for artificial continents. But then, the readings shifted. Pressure levels spiked. The spaceship's screens and lights began to flicker.
"Commander! We're losing Array Control!"
Static screamed through the comms. Outside the viewport, Helios-9's upper atmosphere ignited, turning into a blooming sphere of radiant plasma.
Rolan's calm never broke. "Shut it down."
"We can't! Spatial interference is overloading the algorithm!"
Of course it was. He'd pushed the devices too far. But even as the storm devoured the satellites one by one, Rolan simply stared, unblinking, at the sight of his masterpiece collapsing.
Well, maybe they will punish me this time. But at least I'll get my break. Not a bad trade at all.
But then, Rolan's body shook as he fell to his knees, clutching his stomach in pain and nausea. Oh shit! I'm about to...barf! Gugh!
Rolan wretched hard as he vomited all over the command deck's floor. Leira quickly approached him as she patted his back. Soothing him.
"Let it all out, Commander. Let it all out." She was coaxing him like his mother used to when he got food poisoning a couple of years back from his ex-girlfriend's cooking.
Rolan's body slowly relaxed as the final contents of his stomach finally left his mouth. Leaving the gross taste of chicken and stomach acid in his mouth. His throat burned and stung from the ordeal's aftereffects. Damn..maybe I don't think I'm doing this ever again.
He decided that he would never push the machines this far. The spatial instability caused by the planet and the terraforming devices' overloading had given him a bout of sickness. He was probably the only one on the fleet that ended up like this since he wasn't genetically modified like the rest of the crew.
"Thank you, Leira..." he muttered while slowly getting to his feet. His chest is still feeling heavy. Leira supported him as she lightly rubbed his sternum to help alleviate the pain. Her crimson eyes glimmered with worry as she held his waist.
"You need to rest," she basically demanded. To hell with the planet. He needs to sleep.
Leira knew her dear commander had been pushing himself lately. That's why he made such a rash decision and flubbed the mission on purpose. Not only did he need rest, but even she and the rest of the crew were spent. They had been working nonstop for how many months now? She was going insane.
As much as he's a crazy bastard, he's the only one who really cares.
He's the only commander in the Sol Dominion who would sabotage his own mission to get his crew some needed rest. Leira admired him for it, loved him for it.
She carefully took the stumbling and half-asleep Rolan to his quarters and tucked him in. He fell asleep in no time.
She then made her way to the command post and let the rest of the crew now that they could finally get their needed rest, while the AI would take care of basic stabilization and repairs of the terraforming fleet and its device.
"Whoo! Long live the commander!"
"May he forever be so generous."
"Please god don't let the commander ever become like those before him."
Some celebrated and others prayed, but one thing was common: their understanding and respect for the commander.
He's the only commander crazy and caring enough to sabotage his own operation in order to get everyone some rest. Other commanders, including their previous one, only cared about reputation and timelines. They often had to do unbearable amounts of overtime before Commander Newstar took over.
With things finally settled and the AI getting the device repairs underway, everyone went to their quarters to sleep.
Leira went to her own quarters, where she tied up her shoulder-length silver hair in a tight bun and then lay down. She hugged her bodily pillow that was in a familiar shape and went to sleep.
*****
After a few hours, Rolan was suddenly awakened by a pulsing purple light.
"I swear if it's any of those little shits pranking me, I'm gonna make them clean toilets for a month with no AI help..." Rolan didn't appreciate being disturbed after risking his own ass to get everyone some sleep. He deserved better. He was going to make sure someone played for this disturbance.
Unfortunately, he wasn't going to find that someone as a sight that spoke his already tired mind awaited him. A pulsing purple portal just slightly bigger than him floated on top of the bed.
It stared and squirmed at him like it was alive and happy to see him. Rolan was scared out of his wits.
No! God no! Not me! I pray to you multiple times a day! So why me!
Before he could utter any of his grievances aloud, the portal tucked him up like a vacuum and blinked into nothingness.
Beep! Beep! Beep!
The whole fleet was sprung awake from their trip in lala land as their hearts raced from the alarm.
[Commander Roland is undetected within the range of the fleet.]
[Scanning last known location...]
[Detected trace of spatial disturbance...]
[Cross-referencing to database...]
[Conclusion reached. Commander has been chosen by the Zantara Realm. Engaging backup protocol.]
Leira's already panicking heart was set on fire as she raced out of her room. No...it can't be. It shouldn't have been him. I can't let my years of planning go to waste.
Her thoughts raced as she couldn't let everything slip away when it was so close at hand. As for what that is, that's a matter for later.
*****
Endless plains of black grass stretched as far as the blood sea that bordered them. The ominous sea was merely reflecting the red sky that hung overhead. The blazing red sun watched the land with malice and scorn. The tall trees were filled with lush gray leaves and ashy bark.
In this desolate and unforgiving territory, a strange purple portal popped up and spat out a human man like it had tasted a rotten fruit. The man fell face-first onto the ground.
The portal then blinked just as fast as it came and disappeared. It was like it feared being rebuked by a parent who learned their kid was late to school. And the portal was right.
Ah! You fuckin shitty ass cursed motherfucker! How dare you live in this hellhole! Rolan shouted in his mind as his mouth was filled with dirt that he was busy spitting out. He took a quick look around and sighed in frustration.
The Zantara Realm really had to pick him after all, huh. Even though it was a 1 percent chance, and no one in his family had been picked for 4 generations. But it had to pick him, the most successful of the bunch. The one who is happiest with his life, even if it involves grueling work. Rolan felt like crying or, better yet, punching someone's teeth in, but he was the only person in sight. So weeping it was.
To understand why Rolan is frustrated, well need to go back ten thousand years. Just for reference, it's currently 20,318 A.D. So, 10,000+ years ago, humans finally became capable of colonizing and terraforming the other planets in Earth's solar system. They had just started the process when an analogy occurred. Humans began awakening an ability to open portals to a different dimension.
One where the laws of physics were completely bent, chewed on, and then ground to dust. A place where fantastical and strategic resources could be found in abundance. This privilege was random, and only 1% or less of the population could gain access. It was something many humans would rejoice in when they got the chance to become one of the so-called chosen ones.
So why, one would wonder, does Rolan look so done with his life? It was because there was one thing he learned from friends who also awakened this ability. That out of the 1% that gain this ability, only 0.1% can make something out of it. The reason for those truly shitty odds was staring him in the face at the moment.
From inside the ashy and gray forest, a towering lump of flesh with 7 spindly legs crawled out. It was gray and grotesque with its flesh writhing like a worm. Its body was shaped like a rotten pyramid, with ridges and holes where spurts of white gas came out.
As one could guess, sure, this Zantara Realm was filled with resources that humanity salivates at, but to get it, you would have to make it out alive.
"Well, mom and dad. I hope your prayers every day work, and your son can make it out of this alive. If I do, I'll buy you guys the vacation you wanted." Rolan slapped himself in the face and quickly stood up as he used his words as motivation.
He had to see his family and friends again, or they would torture him in the afterlife. So he reached into his pocket and took out a plastic-looking gun from his belt and aimed it at things.
It had a bulge in the middle of pyramid pyramid-shaped body, so he decided to aim for it.
"Eat some plastic, you ugly little shit whose mother wants him to jump off a cliff and drown!"
Monster: ???