Nobody trusted Cassian Benton. That became the official consensus approximately three minutes after breakfast ended.
The younger generation gathered outside the guest bungalow district beneath bright mountain skies while sunlight spilled across flowering trees and winding stone pathways. Cassian stood at the front of the group smiling. That alone was suspicious.
Torres pointed immediately.
"I don't trust that smile."
Cassian looked offended.
"Why?"
"Because Benton smiles are dangerous."
"That's incredibly unfair."
"Your sister exists."
Reasonable silence followed. Cassian immediately lost the argument.
The group followed him deeper into the valley. Nobody knew where they were going. Which naturally resulted in endless speculation. Lila Navarro walked near the front practically vibrating with excitement.
"Is it a training ground?"
"No."
"Combat arena?"
"No."
"Secret military bunker?"
"No."
"Underground combat arena?"
"No."
Lila looked disappointed.
Behind her, Tomas Ibarra studied the road thoughtfully. The deeper they walked, the stranger the valley became. Stone lanterns appeared beside the pathways. Dragon carvings decorated retaining walls. Ancient bridges crossed clear streams. Flowering trees lined mountain roads. Everything looked older. Much older. Not preserved. Alive.
Lucian slowed slightly. Then stopped. His eyes narrowed toward one of the lanterns.
"…wait."
Everyone looked toward him. Lucian approached the lantern slowly. His fingers brushed the carved stone. The pattern. The construction. The artistic style. His eyes widened.
"That's impossible."
"What?"
Lucian looked toward Cassian.
"This design disappeared centuries ago."
Cassian kept walking.
"Maybe."
That was not a denial. Lucian immediately became concerned.
The mountain road curved around another cliffside. The trees opened. And the entire younger generation stopped. Completely. Instantly. Nobody moved. Nobody spoke. Because standing before them was the Gate of Dragons.
Massive wooden doors towered against the mountainside. The structure stretched higher than most buildings. Dark ancient timber reinforced with black iron. Twin dragons twisted across the doors. One silver. One gold. Their bodies coiled through mountains, rivers, clouds, and stars carved directly into the wood itself. The craftsmanship looked impossible. Every scale. Every claw. Every whisker. Every detail hand carved.
Moss had crept into the deepest grooves of the carving over what must have been centuries, softening the ancient lines without ever quite hiding them, as though the mountain itself had decided the gate deserved to keep aging in peace. Iron hinges the size of dinner tables anchored the doors into stone pillars worn smooth by rain and wind and the passage of hands nobody currently living had ever met. The mountain wind drifted softly through the valley.
Nobody spoke. Even Torres. That alone felt historic.
Hana stared upward.
"…what is that."
Nobody answered. Because nobody had an answer.
Mei felt tiny standing before it. The gate didn't feel like architecture. It felt like a statement. A promise. A warning. Something ancient watching from another era.
Lucian removed his glasses. Cleaned them. Looked again. The gate remained.
"…that's real."
Again, not a question. A statement.
Tomas slowly walked forward. His engineer brain visibly malfunctioning.
"The support structure shouldn't exist."
"It does."
"I know."
A pause.
"That's the problem."
The Forest twins stood silently. Even they looked impressed. Which honestly said everything.
Then naturally, Torres recovered first. Three whole seconds later. A personal record.
"I have a question."
The entire group immediately became suspicious.
Mei pointed.
"No."
"You don't know the question."
"I do."
"No you don't."
"Yes I do."
Little Bean quietly opened a new spreadsheet. The room somehow became worse.
Torres pointed dramatically toward the gate.
"Hypothetically."
"No."
"YOU DON'T KNOW THE QUESTION."
"I DO."
Little Bean was already typing. Torres ignored both of them.
"How much is all this worth?"
Silence. Absolute silence.
Little Bean adjusted his datapad.
"Calculating."
Tomas physically pointed.
"Don't."
"Too late."
Torres slowly walked toward the gate.
"The wood alone…"
Little Bean nodded.
"Rare materials."
Torres pointed at the bridges below.
"The bridges."
"Historical craftsmanship."
"The roads."
"Specialized labor."
"The lanterns."
"Preservation value."
"The tourism rights."
Little Bean paused. Then nodded seriously.
"The tourism rights are significant."
The spreadsheet grew.
Everyone stared.
Torres became stronger. Little Bean became stronger.
"The licensing opportunities."
"Substantial."
"The merchandise."
"Massive."
"The guided tours."
"Premium pricing possible."
"The cultural package."
"Excellent revenue stream."
The spreadsheet continued expanding.
Mei physically covered her face.
"There are no words."
"There are many words."
Torres pointed at the spreadsheet.
"Look at all the words."
Above them, the Viewing Platform overlooked the entire valley. And the adults could hear everything.
Senior Torres physically bent forward laughing. George Benton laughed too. Jules Benton nearly dropped his tea. Marcus Voss turned away. Failing to hide his smile. Kael was dying. Actually dying. Ryven looked suspiciously amused.
Alejandro Torres Jr. slowly lowered his face into one hand.
"…why."
Senior Torres wiped tears from his eyes.
"That's my boy."
"Please stop encouraging him."
"Never."
Reasonable answer.
Below, Little Bean finally looked up from his calculations.
"Conservative estimate."
The younger generation turned. Little Bean adjusted the datapad.
"Several billion."
Silence. Torres slowly looked back toward the valley. The bridges. The roads. The waterfalls. The hidden structures. The mountain itself. Then nodded seriously.
"I respect this mountain."
Mei looked horrified.
"For the wrong reasons."
"There are no wrong reasons."
Little Bean nodded.
"Agreed."
Neither helped.
Then the gates began moving. The deep groan of ancient timber echoed across the valley. The sound rolled through the mountains themselves, low and resonant, the kind of sound that seemed to come up through the soles of their feet rather than through the air. The dragons slowly separated. The enormous doors opened. And the hidden valley beyond revealed itself.
Nobody breathed. Not immediately. The view stretched impossibly far. Mountain roads wound downward through forests and flowering trees. Stone bridges crossed streams and waterfalls. Observation platforms overlooked hidden sectors. The mountain unfolded layer by layer. Secret after secret. Wonder after wonder.
Then they saw it. The Replica.
Far below. Hidden among forests and terraces. The enormous training complex stretched across an entire section of the valley. Bridges. Platforms. Training sectors. Waterfalls. Structures. Pathways. Everything blended naturally into the landscape itself. The younger generation collectively froze.
Lila pointed immediately.
"I WANT TO GO THERE."
"Of course you do."
"I REALLY WANT TO GO THERE."
"Nobody is surprised."
Hana pointed at three different things simultaneously.
"WAIT."
Another direction.
"WHAT IS THAT?"
Another.
"WHY IS THERE A WATERFALL?"
Another.
"IS THAT A TRAINING BRIDGE?"
Nobody knew where to begin.
Mei simply stared. Not overwhelmed. Amazed. Because this wasn't a training facility. It wasn't even a campus. It felt like an entire world hidden inside the mountain.
Far above them, the adults watched every reaction. Every expression. Every moment of stunned silence. Master Sora smiled softly. Master Ren smiled too. Because this happened every time. Every visitor. Every generation. The mountain always knew exactly when to reveal itself.
Kael leaned comfortably against the viewing platform railing. Watching the younger generation below. Watching Hana. Watching Mei. Watching Torres. Watching all of them. The smile never left his face, the kind of smile that belonged less to an admiral than to someone remembering exactly what it felt like to stand where they were standing. Ryven stood beside him. Quiet. Steady. Comfortable. The way he always did.
Below them the younger generation finally started moving again. Drawn forward. Curious. Excited. Completely unaware of what still waited ahead. Because the Gate of Dragons was only the beginning. Beyond the winding road. Beyond the waterfalls. Beyond the bridges. The Replica waited patiently.
And for the first time that morning, the younger generation realized they had absolutely no idea what kind of place they had been brought to.
Behind them, the Gate of Dragons remained open, framing the valley like a held breath, its twin carvings catching the light one final time before the group moved on and stopped looking back, already too busy arguing about waterfalls to remember they had ever been afraid of a door.