The first day of Caius Dalthar's presidency did not begin with a grand podium speech or a ceremonial march. It began in a towering glass chamber overlooking the restored gardens of the presidential palace. The message was clear: the new era he promised would grow alongside the old roots that had once struggled in silence.
Caius did not choose a general, a minister, or a scientist as his first guest.
He invited Auren Deyron.
The invitation alone startled the public, but what came after shocked them even more. The meeting would be broadcast live across every major network on Edena. No script. No moderator. No time limit.
Morning light poured through the clear glass walls, illuminating the two figures seated across from each other. Auren wore the simple dark-gray robes of an Aetherian educator. Caius sat in a sleek black uniform accented with silver.
After a brief greeting and a formal smile, Caius began speaking, his tone sincere yet unmistakably diplomatic.
"Auren," he said, meeting the gaze of his former rival, "I invited you here not as a president addressing the candidate he defeated. But as someone who understands that Edena cannot stand without the pillars you built."
Auren dipped his head slightly. "I'm here not as an opponent. I'm here as a citizen of Edena, just like you."
"And because of that," Caius continued, "I want the world to hear it directly from you: what is your dream for Edena moving forward?"
Auren turned his eyes to the window, toward the trees rising quietly like prayers cast upward.
"My dream," he said softly, "is not about taller buildings or faster systems. It is about deeper people. I want every child in Edena to learn how to understand this planet the way they understand their own hearts."
Caius bowed his head slightly, giving Auren space.
"I want schools that teach not only codes and numbers, but feeling and meaning. I want farmers to hold the same honor as scientists. I want our progress to be measured not by who is 'advanced,' but by who best protects what remains."
The cameras captured the teary eyes of viewers across Edena.
"I want," Auren exhaled, "the people of Edena to be a nation that doesn't just live on this planet, but protects it with love."
Caius nodded slowly.
"Your words, Auren, cut through stone. Quiet, but unstoppable."
He turned to the camera.
"And as President of Edena, I swear your dream will not only be protected. It will be realized — with all of you."
Applause erupted from the studio audience. In public squares and living rooms, people clapped along.
Then Caius faced Auren again.
"But there's one more matter," he said, his tone warmer now. "I know you didn't come here alone. You carry a name — and a generation."
Auren furrowed his brow.
"Zaelen Deyron," Caius declared gently, yet firmly. "Your son. I've read the reports. He's long dreamed of joining Edena's Defense Corps."
Auren stiffened for a moment, then nodded.
"I believe the future of this nation rests in the hands of its youth," Caius continued. "Which is why, today, I'm announcing that Zaelen Deyron will be granted full eligibility for Edena's elite military training program."
A wave of cheers burst across the studio and the net. Zaelen's name instantly dominated every broadcast.
"And not because he is your son," Caius added, "but because he represents a generation shaped by knowledge and courage — a generation that will protect Edena better than we ever could."
Auren fell quiet. His chest tightened, emotion rising fast, but he held steady. His eyes glimmered.
"Thank you," he whispered. "Not only for that... but for still choosing to listen."
The broadcast triggered an immediate shift.
Media outlets that once doubted their partnership praised Caius' balanced leadership. He was hailed as the president capable of calming tension without sacrificing ideals.
People began calling this new era the Symphony of Edena.
The Aetheria communities did not dissolve. They grew stronger, working hand in hand with the ministries of education and environment.
Meanwhile, Zaelen Deyron's name spread like wildfire. Images of him standing beside his father and President Caius became symbols of hope for ambitious youth.
That night, Auren returned home to Valessia. He sat on the bench where everything had begun, beside his son.
Zaelen was silent for a moment before speaking. "Father… are you disappointed that you didn't become president?"
Auren smiled.
"No," he said. "I'm happier knowing I don't have to leave this garden behind."
Zaelen looked up at the stars.
"I want to fight, Father. But not only with weapons."
Auren wrapped an arm around him. "Then fight with goodness. And if you ever must hold a weapon, make sure your heart is sharper than the blade."
They sat quietly, listening to the soft sounds of Edena's night.
In the distance, the presidential palace towered gracefully. And from one of its windows, President Caius Dalthar gazed into the horizon — toward the sky, toward the future, toward the unfolding identity of a single rising nation.
The Edenan Nation.
*****
A full year had passed since Caius Dalthar raised his right hand and swore his oath as President of Edena. In that short span, he played his role with near-flawless precision: a warm face for the people and the conservationist communities, and a cold, calculated hand preserving the old power structures from behind the curtains.
The massive expansion projects once championed by previous administrations were officially halted. The government began integrating conservationists into its framework, granting them influential seats in the Ethics and Environmental Committees. Media outlets sang praises, calling it the Golden Age of Edena. The people cheered. Caius' reputation soared as a leader who had unified two opposing worlds.
But that was only the surface.
Far beneath Edena, in hidden valleys and deep caverns absent from any public map, heavy machinery roared. Underground mining facilities continued relentless operations, extracting rare minerals vital to the creation of the next-generation energy grid — a secret program known only as Veinsteel.
Workers were recruited from social rehabilitation programs, assigned new identities, trapped within automated systems, and guarded by soulless machines.
Not a single conservationist knew.
Not a single citizen suspected.
And the one man who knew the full truth made sure it stayed buried.
Meanwhile, on the southern edge of Edena, Zaelen Deyron carved his name into the military annals of the new nation.
During a rescue mission for scientists and an expedition team in the Glevarra sector, Zaelen led his unit through feral wilderness, facing savage creatures with sharp strategy and unshakable courage. Footage of the mission spread across the network, elevating him to national acclaim as the "Guardian of the Edenan Nation."
At the official ceremony in Velmorah, President Caius himself placed Edena's highest medal upon Zaelen's chest.
"This young man," Caius proclaimed, his voice firm, "is more than a hero. He is one of the foundations of our future. He has saved critical national assets, and for that, from this day forward, he is formally appointed Commander of Edena's Special Operations."
Auren Deyron sat among the honored guests, watching with calm yet wary eyes. He knew too well — praise that grand always came with a price.
A month after the ceremony, Zaelen received new orders. Another rescue mission.
"Northern Edena," explained Major Atheen, the palace liaison officer. "The expedition team lost contact in the frozen zone. These are the coordinates."
Zaelen studied the mission file. No names of the expedition members. No details of the scientists. Only coordinates… and a brief note: Extreme habitat threat and potential biological danger.
"Why are there no names?" Zaelen asked.
Major Atheen's expression remained unreadable. "High security. This project is strictly classified."
Zaelen paused, then nodded. "We leave tonight."
His elite squad moved northward into brutal cold. Temperatures plunged to minus thirty. Thick snow blinded sensors, and electromagnetic interference severed communications.
On the first day… no signs of the expedition.
On the second… they found shattered scientific equipment, abandoned in haste.
On the third… they discovered the corpse of a wild creature, but no trace of humans.
On the fourth… Zaelen's suspicion deepened.
That night, he sat with his second-in-command, Sergeant Lienne.
"Lienne," Zaelen said quietly, "none of this makes sense. No distress signal. No rescue drone wreckage. It's as if… the expedition never existed."
Lienne hesitated. "You think we're being set up?"
Zaelen didn't answer. His gaze lifted toward the dark sky lit by shimmering auroras — beautiful, but cold. Like a hidden plan finally beginning to stir.
*****
Meanwhile, in the presidential palace, Caius stood on the balcony of his office, staring westward. Behind him, Caelen Voss—his father—sat in an old chair, reviewing data projected on a transparent screen.
"He's entered the northern zone," Caius said.
Voss nodded. "Good. Let him stay there. If he returns alive, he'll be nothing more than a commander stationed too far from the capital. If he dies..."
"...then we gain the perfect justification to reinforce northern security. We can claim it as a red zone."
Caius allowed a thin smile. "And the world will believe it. Because they believe me."
Voss sipped his drink with quiet satisfaction. "You truly are my finest student."
*****
On the fifth day, Zaelen and his team finally uncovered the truth: there was no expedition project. No researchers. No missing scientists.
Only scraps of monitoring drones belonging to the resource-surveillance division.
"What were they watching out here?" Lienne murmured.
Zaelen looked toward the distant ice peaks, their shadows sharp beneath the pale sun.
"We weren't sent to rescue anyone," he said at last. "We were sent... to disappear."
Lienne stepped closer. "What are your orders, Commander?"
Zaelen scanned the faces of his soldiers one by one. They waited in tense silence, each realizing they had become pieces in a game far larger than their mission file.
"We're going home."
In the weeks that followed, rumors of Zaelen's missing squad spread in hushed fragments. The government released an official statement: "Northern Edena Rescue Operation Failed. Squad Lost in Field."
But days later, an emergency signal from Zaelen surfaced on an unofficial channel—broadcast and rebroadcast by Aetheria's underground networks.
"We live. And we know."