Ra peered out the oval window, watching dawn’s first rays claw up the horizon in shifting bands of gold and indigo. Far below sprawled Europe, an ancient tapestry of cities that once hid Reptilian and Grey enclaves—strongholds shattered two and a half years prior by Mehen’s relentless onslaught. Now, only cratered bases
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THE SOVEREIGN ACCORD
and half-forgotten intel logs remained to whisper of the 2030 Galactic War.
She tore her focus from the panoramic view, zeroing in on Mehen, who loomed at the front of the cabin. He stood tall, bronze skin etched with golden tattoos that pulsed like living circuitry. His measured posture radiated the same lethal calm that had once decimated alien forces. Now he championed the cause of Earth’s irreversible evolution: Ascend or Perish—the Sovereign Accord’s credo, a dream that promised humanity’s cosmic ascension.
And yet, the promise felt hollow. Ra forced her shoulders back, recalling how many newscasters lauded Mehen as Earth’s salvation. In truth, she suspected hidden agendas swirled beneath his meticulous empire. Officially, the Accord was offering a million volunteers the chance to “ascend” beyond Homo sapiens, forging Homo Galacticus in under a century. No more Earthbound fragility, no more vulnerability to outside threats. But questions gnawed at her psyche. Had the Reptilians and Greys truly been the greatest dangers, or was it the hubris of one all-powerful being?
Across the aisle, Sovereign—her personal guard—observed quietly. Tall, with calculating grey eyes and lethal AI enhancements, he functioned as both her caretaker and the Accord’s discreet sentinel. She sensed his unwavering gaze like a loaded gun, safely holstered but always ready. The hum of advanced computing ran under his skin, orchestrating
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R.H. LEGNER
probabilities in nanoseconds. Every so often, she caught him watching her, something akin to devotion lurking beneath the controlled exterior.
A slight turbulence rumbled through the vessel as it dipped toward Italy, where a broadcast event awaited. Mehen’s plan: unveil the Ascendant Protocol to fresh recruits, two million watchers leaning forward on couches and balconies worldwide, deciding if they, too, would volunteer. Ra swallowed the knot in her throat, wishing the stage lights and flattering cameras could dissolve her misgivings.
Mehen turned, crossing the cabin in two strides. “We’ll be landing soon,” he said, voice rich with confidence. The same unshakable conviction that had once spurred him to wage war on Earth’s hidden enemies. She offered a tight nod.
As the craft’s landing gear extended with a muted hiss, Ra couldn’t stop her mind from drifting to whispered rumors of Lion Roch—an AI-hybrid pioneer known within the Accord’s ranks. Some called him a rebel, others championed him as the next unstoppable force. She’d never met him, but glimpses of him in data feeds stirred something in her, a nameless familiarity that unsettled her more than she cared to admit.
The engines whined, braking the craft’s descent until it touched down smoothly on a private airstrip outside Rome. A subtle quake reverberated under her feet, and she stood, smoothing the burgundy waves of her hair and the slit of her gown. Sovereign hovered, ready to usher her down the ramp the moment Mehen gave the signal.
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THE SOVEREIGN ACCORD
She exhaled shakily. The memory of Reptilian infiltration and Grey sabotage felt distant now—erased by Mehen’s merciless campaign in 2033. He’d declared himself Earth’s steward, forging alliances, rewriting technological leaps, and building the Sovereign Accord. The final puzzle piece: ascend humanity or watch it perish.
Light flooded the cabin as the boarding hatch lowered. Mehen placed a hand on her shoulder, guiding her forward. “Today marks the dawn of unity,” he intoned. “Stand with me, and we secure Earth’s place among the stars.”
Her lips formed a polite smile, practiced in countless PR appearances. Inside, her heart thundered, uncertain and conflicted. She recalled only fragments of The Prophecy of the Shars, the grand narrative Mehen had spun around them both. Whispers claimed the prophecy had originally included another name—someone Mehen saw fit to erase. If that was true, she would uncover it, no matter the cost.
When she stepped into the blinding sun, cameras erupted in furious flashes. A sea of curious recruits stretched beyond the runway’s fence, each hoping they would be next to evolve. Mehen strode forward like a conquering hero, addressing the crowd with well-rehearsed rhetoric. Sovereign fell in step behind Ra, vigilant as ever.
She scanned the horizon, bracing for the spectacle. A swirl of possibility flickered beneath her fears—maybe the cosmic illusions Mehen spun could be unraveled. Perhaps the missing figure from the prophecy, rumored to be Lion Roch, held answers to the doubts gnawing at her soul.
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R.H. LEGNER
As the cameras homed in, she took a steady breath, letting her gaze wander skyward. Ascend or Perish—the motto weighed heavily on her mind. She refused to believe destiny was so black-and-white, not while so many secrets lurked behind the Accord’s polished perfection. Her final thought before stepping onto the stage was a solemn vow: she would learn the full truth, even if it meant dismantling every veil the Sovereign Accord had cast over Earth’s future.
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