The Khasano descended slowly through Terria's upper atmosphere, its hull humming as layer after layer of authorization fields and atmospheric regulators washed over it. Outside the viewport the planet grew larger and sharper until its continents and coastlines resolved into sprawling networks of light and structure. Their destination was the Batuzane Continent. Its eastern sector existed almost entirely for one purpose — transit. From above it looked like a vast metal scar across the land, an intricate grid of landing corridors, docking rings and shielded platforms stretching further than the eye could follow. Every civilian vessel, military transport and cargo freighter entering or leaving Terria had to pass.
The ship angled down and settled onto a Terrian military station. The docking clamps locked on with a deep, resonant thud, and the engines powered down to a low idle. Barnaby was the first on his feet. "Welcome to Terria," he said calmly.
Youri followed him off the ship with two Terrian guards behind them. Even the air inside the station felt different — cleaner, somehow heavier, charged with the faint hum of a regulated atmosphere. A black military car was waiting outside the hangar bay, sleek and angular, its surface swallowing the light instead of reflecting it. The four of them climbed in, and as it pulled away, Youri pressed his face to the window.
The city on the surface was called Mines, and it was unlike anything he had ever seen. From above, it looked almost sealed, with thick metal plates forming a continuous shell over everything, broken only by transit lanes and ventilation towers. Most of its people lived underground in vast circular capsules that each held an entire district and locked together beneath the surface like a honeycomb, leaving the top layer free for high-speed traffic and freight. After a few minutes, the car dipped into a wide tunnel and went down, and Mines showed its true form.
It was enormous. Towers rose up inside the capsule, blending industrial purpose with Terrian elegance. The roads flowed between them in smooth and luminous streams. Because the whole city lay underground, it was lit by a great crystal hanging at the very top of the capsule — a radiant sphere alive with shifting light that bathed the city below in a constant, artificial day. Youri stared up at it, awestruck. The technology wasn't only advanced; it was intentional. Every structure and every system felt as though it had been built to live alongside the others rather than to dominate them.
The car slowed and stopped. Barnaby turned in his seat and pointed through the window at a tall, luminous building. "This is where we're staying tonight. The Ressa. One of the most luxurious hotels in Mines."
It rose proudly in the heart of the city, its tall silhouette blending modern precision with timeless refinement, its façade glowing in warm golden tones that spoke of quiet confidence rather than excess, with an illuminated lattice running up through the center of it that made it instantly recognizable against the skyline. Inside, its lobby unfolded like a sanctuary — high ceilings layered with warm wooden beams, soft golden light flowing along the walls and across the polished floors, low sofas and minimal tables set around a living tree that stood in the very middle of the room and softened all its clean lines. It felt open and intimate at once, built to welcome rather than to overwhelm.
Barnaby had already checked them in, and he handed Youri a key without ceremony. "Get some rest. Tomorrow we go where we came here to take you." And he stepped into the elevator and was gone.
Youri stood there for a moment looking at the key in his hand, and then followed, riding the elevator up in silence. His room greeted him with warmth — amber tones, softly glowing wall panels, a plush bed in the center layered with smooth linen and textured throws, a cushioned bench at its foot and a delicate chandelier above it, and floor-to-ceiling windows that opened onto Mines below, glowing like a universe in a jar. He shut the door, let out a long breath, and fell face first onto the bed. Sleep took him almost at once.
A knock pulled him out of heavy dreams the next morning. Groggy, he dragged himself up and opened the door. One of the Terrian guards stood there, rigid. "Get ready. We leave in thirty minutes." And the door closed again before he could answer.
He moved quickly — showered, dressed, steadied himself — and went down to the lobby, where Barnaby was waiting on one of the sofas, as composed as ever. He stood when he saw Youri. "So. You're finally ready." He nodded at the doors. "Come on. We've got a Supersonic Way to catch."
Youri frowned. "A supersonic… what?"
Barnaby smiled. "Better if I show you."
The drive was short. The car came back up to the surface east of Mines and stopped in front of a colossal building, square, imposing, clad entirely in reflective glass that shimmered as the sunlight struck it. From one side of it an enormous circular tube stretched away across the horizon until it vanished into the distance.
Barnaby pointed. "The Supersonic Waystation." He let the weight of it sink in. "The Supersonic Way is Terria's jewel — one of its four great masterpieces."
It joined all four continents together. Its tubes, which the Terrians called pockets, formed vacuum corridors stretching across the whole planet, and the cabins that ran inside them traveled at more than five thousand kilometers an hour, so that Batuzane to Carcas was a matter of minutes. Eight pockets ran at once, four in each direction, so that the flow never stopped. It was the marvel of Terrian engineering, and one of the most vital pieces of the Empire's infrastructure.
Barnaby led him through the station's wide halls until they stood in front of their cabin. There he stopped and turned. "All right, kid," he said quietly. "After this, whatever you do is up to you." He met Youri's eyes. "And remember this. You're in the military now. Not the streets."
The cabin doors slid open, and light spilled out.