"Nathan, do you know what time it is?" his mother shouted.
Still yawning, Nate shuffled down the stairs, his scarlet eyes half-open as they struggled to adjust to the morning sunlight. Then—something wonderful reached his nose. A warm, savory smell drifted through the air, instantly making his mouth water.
Right as he began to follow the scent like a hungry puppy, his mother—known across worlds as The Space Men—rolled up her sleeves and smacked him on the head.
The sudden jolt of pain wiped the sleep out of him in an instant.
"Wha—what the hell?" he yelped, clutching his head. He glanced around in confusion, trying to understand where the pain had come from. Then he froze, slowly lifting his gaze upward.
There she was.
His mother, glaring at him with a look that could make even a black hole retreat.
"Mister Nathan," she said sternly, "do you still think you're a three-year-old boy? You're eleven now. Do you know what that means?"
He puffed his chest and replied, "Mom, that's simple. If I'm eleven now, I'll be twelve next year." He laughed, clearly proud of his answer.
"Oh? Is that so?" She rolled her sleeves even higher.
Now fully awake, Nate raised both hands defensively. "I don't know! Why don't you roll those sleeves down and tell me what I'm supposed to do?"
With a tired sigh, The Space Men said, "Nate, you're eleven. It's time for you to start school and learn something."
Nate froze. The color drained from his face.
Then, with dramatic tears welling up, he grabbed her legs and pleaded, "Mother… I've been such a good son. I don't remember doing anything wrong. So why… why are you sending me to prison?"
She stared at him, completely lost.
Nate continued rolling on the floor. "If I didn't do anything wrong, why must I go through such torture?!"
This time, The Space Men didn't even bother rolling her sleeves. She simply smacked him again and shouted, "You dumb kid! Do you think going to school is the same as going to prison?! Go get ready or we'll be late for the entrance ceremony!"
Nate dragged himself up from the floor, rubbing the fresh bump on his head as if it were a sacred wound earned in battle.
"Entrance ceremony… entrance ceremony…" he grumbled dramatically as he staggered toward the stairs. "Why does the universe hate me…?"
His mother crossed her arms. "The universe loves you. I raised you. Now move."
Nate sprinted upstairs.
A few minutes later, he came down wearing his uniform—dark navy, trimmed with silver lines that glowed faintly with energy. The emblem of the Space Government was stitched over his heart: a golden circle with twelve lines branching outward like a radiant star. It looked powerful. Dignified.
But on Nate, it looked… oversized.
"Nate," his mother said slowly, "why is your uniform hanging off you like a bedsheet?"
He held the hem of the uniform away from his body. "Maybe… the school made a mistake?"
"Nate."
"Maybe the laundry did it?"
"Nathan."
"…maybe it's fashionable?"
Space Men sighed deeply, the kind of sigh only a powerful woman with an impossible son could make.
She snapped her fingers. A small drone zipped in from the kitchen, holding sewing clips and a measuring tool. Within seconds, it circled Nate, adjusting his sleeves, pinning his hem, and tightening the belt until the uniform fit perfectly.
"There," she said.
Nate lifted his chin proudly. "Finally, I look like a future hero."
"You look like a kid who almost went to the ceremony in pajama size," she replied.
He stuck his tongue out behind her back.
She didn't need to turn around. "I saw that."
Nate froze. "How—?"
"I am a Space Men," she said. "I see everything."
He swallowed. "…right."
She walked to the entrance door, her boots echoing through the house as she tied her long hair into a sleek, commanding tail.
"Come on, Nate. The ceremony is important. Today marks the beginning of your path."
"Path to what?" he asked as he followed her.
"To the life you were meant to live."
The door opened.
Outside, the sky was filled with shimmering white lines—the light bridges connecting Earth to the vast web of the Space Government. Ships glided along them like streams of starlight.
And at the heart of the sky, far beyond the atmosphere, the Headquarters of the Space Government glowed—its radiant core shining like a new sun.
Nate's eyes widened.For a moment, even his complaints vanished.
"Whoa…" he whispered.
His mother smiled softly. "Come. Your future is waiting."
As she stepped forward, a vehicle with a cloud-like body drifted toward them, driven by a government-assigned officer—one of the few permitted to escort the Space Men herself.This was the only vehicle in all the galaxies with no travel limitations; it could even pass safely through a wormhole.
In her heart, the Space Men silently wished that her son would grow into a great soldier of the Space Government, just as she had.Little did she know that Nate had chosen a different path long ago—when he was only three years old.
"Mom," Nate called, and she turned to face him."Whatever the circumstances waiting for you out there," she said, placing a firm hand on his shoulder, "don't use your powers to the extreme. And don't go around telling people you wield that power. Understand?"
"I know, Mom. You don't have to worry," Nate answered casually. "I've been practicing to keep it under control."
Their moment was cut short when the soldier stepped forward and bowed slightly."Miss Space Men, you are summoned to the Great Council by Elder," he announced."The Great Elder says this is urgent."
"Tch… damn that boy," she muttered under her breath. "He's going to make me miss my son's entrance ceremony."
"It's alright, Mom," Nate said, grinning. "You should go. You're the strongest in the world, after all."
She rested her hand on his head, giving him a gentle pat."And remember, Mom," Nate added mischievously, "I'm going to be stronger than you someday."
She smiled even brighter at that—then her body dissolved into shimmering particles of light and vanished into the air.