The man inclined his head slightly, a minimal gesture that bordered on ceremonial.
"My name is Kaelth Vorr," he announced. "Velkari Commander. Designated as one of the Five Supreme Heroes of the High Core."
The title fell like a slab of stone.
Even the guards seemed to tense, almost imperceptibly. Kaelth Vorr was not merely an escort. He was a message.
"You have been authorized to leave this cell," he continued. "You will be transferred to the castle's central plaza to face your public judgment."
Kaelth stepped closer. He did not invade Varen's space. He did not need to. His shadow was enough.
"Any attempt to flee will be considered a personal declaration of war," he said calmly. "You will be eliminated before completing the movement."
Varen noticed one of the guards subtly adjusting his weapon, anticipating an order that might never come.
"Any suspicious gesture," Kaelth added, "any variation in your vital signs, any alteration of the collar… will be met with immediate lethal force."
He observed him closely.
"The trial does not protect you."
Silence.
"Is that clear?"
Varen inhaled deeply. The air scraped his lungs. His body ached in places he could no longer name.
"It's clear," he replied, his voice rough but steady.
Kaelth showed no reaction. He turned with the same elegance with which he had arrived and raised a hand.
"Lift him."
The guards moved in unison.
Two of them grabbed his arms and forced him to his feet. Pain exploded through his body—sharp, immediate. Poorly healed wounds protested. The accumulated weakness made him lose balance for a second.
He did not scream.
The cuffs closed around his wrists, then his forearms, his elbows. Restraint rings locked around his legs—dense weights designed not only to immobilize, but to humiliate. Each lock snapped shut with a metallic click that seemed to mark the time he had left.
The collar vibrated more intensely, draining energy, weakening him further.
Of course… they don't want me to arrive dead. They just want me to arrive broken, Varen thought.
When they released him, Varen remained standing, barely trembling.
His bare feet touched the icy floor. Filth clung to his damp skin. His clothes hung from his body—torn, stained with both dirt and his own blood—silent witnesses to weeks of punishment.
Kaelth Vorr watched him for a few seconds longer, as if ensuring every restraint was properly in place.
"Walk," he ordered.
Varen took the first step.
The weights pulled at his legs. Pain surged through his joints. Every movement was clumsy, deliberate, heavy.
He left the cell without lowering his head. He did not appear afraid or anxious; on the contrary, he seemed calm—serious, perhaps—but not angry, not sad. He looked at the guards one by one. He did not seek compassion. He showed no fear.
Each step was a reminder of the sentence awaiting him. Each step brought him closer to the center of a world that hated him. And yet his face remained serene. He looked forward without fear of what lay beyond the threshold.
The sound of the weights dragging across the floor marked the rhythm of Varen's advance. Every step was controlled, forced. Around him, the guards maintained a tight formation, alert, weapons always trained, as if expecting that at any second the condemned man would prove why he was still alive.
The first stretch of the corridor was not very different from the cell.
Bare rock—dark, irregular. The walls looked as if they had been violently carved into the heart of a mountain, damp, mineral veins faintly gleaming under cold lights embedded in the stone. The ceiling was low, oppressive, as if the castle still remembered its subterranean origin. The air was heavy, ancient.
Varen walked in silence, observing.
So this is where it all begins… he thought.
Gradually, the corridor began to change.
The rock gave way to polished surfaces. The floor ceased to be uneven and became a smooth expanse of pearlescent white material, more refined than any human marble. It was not ordinary stone: its surface reflected light with a soft, almost liquid sheen, as if it were alive. Each of Varen's steps echoed deeply—elegant, amplified by the immensity of the place.
The space suddenly opened.
The corridor rose to impossible heights. Varen had to lift his gaze. The walls ascended more than forty meters—perhaps more—and the width of the passage allowed several full formations to march side by side without touching. Colossal columns rose on both sides, carved with absurd precision, blending perfect geometry with organic forms that seemed to grow from the floor.
The ceiling… was not a ceiling.
It arched like an artificial sky, formed by translucent plates suspended in layered tiers. Between them, currents of luminous energy drifted slowly, like moving constellations. Its hues shifted as they advanced: deep blues, soft golds, flashes of white that mimicked distant stars. It did not look constructed.
It looked like it was breathing.
A knot formed in Varen's chest.
Not from fear.
From awe.
Gigantic murals covered the walls between the pillars. Scenes carved and animated by light: the Velkari descending from the sky, colossal machines crossing continents, cities rising where nothing had existed before. Human figures appeared alongside them—small, but present. Building. Carrying. Serving… or collaborating.
Strange symbols ran across every mural, an unknown language—angular and elegant—that seemed to move when not looked at directly.
"It impresses even those who walk here every day," Kaelth said without stopping.
Varen turned his face slightly toward him.
"Helior," the hero commander continued, "was not always like this. When we arrived in this world, this territory was little more than ruins and ash—consequences of humans warring among themselves. The city was built from nothing."
Kaelth walked with his hands still clasped behind his back, his voice resonating with perfect clarity through the vast space.
"Velkari machines. Velkari design… and human hands." He paused briefly. "Your species was… 'useful.' Not as useless as we initially believed. Among humans, engineers, builders, and operators emerged. They learned quickly—though not quickly enough."
Varen clenched his teeth but said nothing.
"Today," Kaelth went on, "Helior is one of the safest places ever created. Energy walls. Orbital defenses. Predictive systems. It has not fallen. It will not fall."
The corridor opened into an even wider gallery, where the murals changed theme.
Five emblems dominated the space, each occupying an entire section of the wall.
"The Velkari domains are divided into five great houses," Kaelth said, indicating them with a slight tilt of his head. "Each with its own territory… and a function. I assume you remember, if you studied correctly."
Varen remained silent.
The first symbol burned in golden tones.
"Aurelion. They control the solar zones of this planet's eastern hemisphere. Energy, expansion, technological supremacy."(Located in North Africa and the Middle East — Sahara to the Arabian Peninsula)
The second was darker, crossed by red lines.
"Varkhane. Military bastions. Northern regions. Where war is constant, even in times of peace."(Located in Eastern Europe and Central Asia — Western Russia, Ukraine, Kazakhstan)
The third shone with white and blue light.
"Helior. The heart. The capital. Government, judgment, balance."(Located in Central Europe / Extended Alpine region — Switzerland, Northern Italy, Austria)
The fourth was severe, geometric.
"Dominia Velk. Planetary administration. Control of human and non-human resources. Order."(Located in East Asia — China, Korea, Japan)
The final symbol appeared carved from green and silver shadows.
"Eryndor. Southern territories. Biological research, adaptation, experimentation."(Located in the Amazon and parts of South America — Brazil, Peru, Colombia)
"Humans also retain territories," Kaelth added. "Their own cities. Nations… limited. Supervised."
They paused briefly before a mural depicting the construction of Helior: floating machines raising impossible structures, humans working under Velkari oversight.
"Evolution," Kaelth said. "Endless progress."
The corridor brightened further. At the far end, enormous doors rose, covered in symbols and contained energy.
"This is where the path ends," Kaelth concluded. "The central plaza awaits you."
Varen inhaled deeply.
He did not lower his head.
The castle was immense. Ancient. Alive. And yet… something inside him whispered that even all this grandeur would not be enough to stop what was coming.
Varen knew it.
Beyond those doors, everything was going to change.
Not just for him.
But for the thousands of throats screaming on the other side. For those who celebrated his fall as a personal victory. For those who had traveled for days just to witness the moment a "rebel" ceased to exist.
The shouts surged through the castle's structure like a living tide.
"Kill him!""Make him pay!""For the fallen!""Execute him!"
The clamor grew, overlapped, twisted into a collective roar that made the ground beneath his bare feet tremble. These were not individual voices. It was a mass. A single organism, hungry for blood and spectacle.
Varen stepped until he stood before the massive doors.
The surface was smooth, made of a pale metal that did not reflect his image. No visible seams. No human symbols. Only Velkari geometric lines running across the structure like ancient circuits.
For an instant, a smile crossed his face.
Small. Barely a gesture.
It was not mockery. It was not madness.
It was certain.
Kaelth Vorr saw it.
The commander's gray eyes narrowed by an imperceptible fraction, and his voice fell upon him like a sharpened blade.
"Not a single movement," he warned. "Until your sentence is carried out."
The threat required no volume. Its weight was enough.
Varen did not respond. He did not lower his gaze.
He simply waited.
The doors began to open.
Not with a crash, but with a slow, deep displacement, as if the castle itself were breathing. The low sound of the mechanism echoed through the corridors, amplified by the impossible architecture.
And then, the noise outside exploded.
The screams multiplied, collided, rose into a deafening clamor. Light burst in—white and brutal—blinding him for a second. His pupils burned. The world collapsed into a single flash.
Then, his vision cleared.
And what appeared before him was… incredible.
The central plaza of Helior Castle stretched like an ocean of marble and light. Colossal stands rose in concentric circles, filled with thousands of figures: Velkari, Nexum, humans. Banners of the five houses waved high above, suspended by invisible energy fields. The artificial sky, flawless and precise, cast a golden luminosity that bathed every corner.
At the center, an elevated platform awaited.
The place where destinies were decided.
The place where rebels ceased to be names.
Varen took a step forward.
And the entire world looked at him—and screamed louder.