The silence after the war was not peace. It was the sound of two worlds gasping.
Earth's surface lay broken and charred, a vast scar of gray stretching from ocean to ocean. The once-blue planet had become a wasteland of shadows and ruin—its skies clouded by metallic dust, its rivers thick with the ashes of cities. Yet even then, amidst all the quiet despair, a spark endured.
That spark was Fujita Giono.
No crown rested on his head, no army followed his command—only a handful of weary survivors who believed that if anyone could lead them out of the ruins, it was him.
For a year, Fujita traveled across the shattered continents—through the steel skeletons of fallen megacities and forests of glass formed by orbital fire. He spoke to every cluster of survivors he found. Some hid in the mountains, hoarding scraps of food; others lived beneath the ground, fearing the sky itself. He gave them something rarer than food or shelter. He gave them a reason.
He taught them to trust again.
When doubt rose, he stood firm. When quarrels sparked, he listened. Slowly, people began to move toward him, like rivers drawn to the sea. The remnants of humankind started to gather beneath one name, one banner, one fragile dream—Reclaim Earth.
And beside him through every step was Kinyu Kioski.
Kinyu had been Fujita's comrade during the final days of the war—a strategist, quick-witted and sharp-tongued, who had once commanded a fleet that never returned. His humor carried the edge of old pain, but his loyalty was unshakable. Together, they scouted forgotten bunkers, rewired ancient satellites, and charted the lost ruins of pre-war civilization.
It was during one of those expeditions, beneath the frozen shell of what had once been northern Europe, that they found him—Dr. Oton Pris.
He was a ghost from a forgotten age, a scientist whose name had once been whispered in military councils and research labs alike. He had survived the war in isolation, hiding deep within a cryogenic research facility. When Fujita and Kinyu broke through the sealed chamber doors, they found Oton standing amidst humming consoles, his face gaunt but his eyes burning with the kind of intelligence that could still change the world.
"Earth isn't dead," Oton said when he first saw them. "It's waiting to be rebuilt."
That single sentence marked the dawn of a new era.
With Oton's knowledge, Fujita began building more than hope—he built Nouvaterra, the first great city of the New Earth.
It rose from the ruins of an ancient capital, its foundations layered over the bones of the old world. Within five years and seven months—5.7 years—Nouvaterra became a marvel of renewal. Towers of reclaimed alloy stretched toward the healing sky, their surfaces shimmering with bio-solar plating. Wind channels purified the air; hydrolooms cleansed the poisoned rivers. Gardens bloomed where factories once stood, and light returned to the streets.
Dr. Oton Pris served as Chief of Science and Reconstruction, developing systems that restored balance to the fragile ecosystem. He revived the forgotten art of energy synthesis—using remnants of Controval tech to generate limitless clean power.
Fujita often said that Oton was the mind, and he himself merely the hands.
Meanwhile, Kinyu Kioski commanded the new city guard, which grew into the Reclaimer Defense Force—an army not of conquest, but protection. Yet, even in peace, Fujita knew that peace itself was fragile.
Rumors began to travel across the stars—whispers that Controval-3 was rebuilding as well.
Fujita convened his council. Oton argued for preparation, not provocation. Kinyu wanted strength—something that would make Controval think twice before striking again. The debates stretched through sleepless nights, but in the end, Fujita saw truth in both.
Thus began Project Helios, a collaboration between soldiers and scientists. Using fragments of technology salvaged from the old war, Oton designed weapons unlike anything Earth had ever known—machines powered not by fuel, but by fusion light; cannons that drew energy directly from the planet's magnetic core; and a fleet of aerial guardians known as the Sunwings.
It took years to forge them. Every bolt, every engine, every circuit carried a story—a memory of loss turned into power. And though Fujita hated the thought of war, he understood a harsh truth: peace only endures when guarded by strength.
By the sixth year, Nouvaterra was thriving. Children were born who had never seen the scars of war. The night sky was clear again. The world had begun to dream.
But beneath the calm, something stirred.
Messages intercepted from deep space spoke of movements near Controval-3's outer orbit—strange energy readings, fleets gathering beyond the red moons. Fujita said nothing to the people. He refused to let fear undo the trust he had built. But in the quiet of his command room, surrounded by the soft hum of machinery, he would often stare into the stars and wonder if rebuilding had only bought them time.
Dr. Oton worked tirelessly, preparing defenses while claiming they were "just in case." Kinyu, restless as ever, began expanding the army's training programs, recruiting the best of the new generation.
Fujita didn't stop him.
Because deep down, he knew: the peace they had carved in 5.7 years was precious… but fleeting.
And far beyond the silence of space, Controval-3 was watching—waiting for the moment when Earth's courage would once again be tested.