Astashica: Eternal Starborn Dominion

The underground shelter of New Asemeri was crowded as usual, but tonight, Tlandar saw everything differently.

The whispers of the refugees were no longer just background noise. The tired faces, the restless movements—they all meant something now.

His mind would not let go of the Astashica Hologram's words.

"Walk through the door, Tlandar. It has already been opened for you."

He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair as he stepped into the public hall of the shelter, where groups of refugees gathered to talk, argue, and share rumors.

The Refugees Speak of War

Tlandar leaned against a pillar, listening.

One man, a grizzled ex-mercenary, shook his head as he spoke.

"I'm telling you, Ixtiel's forces aren't just sitting out there for nothing. They're tightening the noose."

Another, younger, more anxious, frowned. "You mean… they'll attack New Asemeri?"

The older man scoffed. "Maybe not yet. They're bleeding Val'katl dry first. Every skirmish they fight weakens them just a little more."

A third voice, a woman wrapped in an old military jacket, murmured, "I heard the Shadow Legion's cutting them down like nothing. Those hover-platforms—they move so fast, some warriors don't even get a chance to fire before they're just… gone."

Tlandar swallowed.

It was one thing to hear about the war. It was another to witness it.

The News Feeds—A War Unfolding

A massive holographic screen flickered above the public gathering space, projecting a government-controlled war report.

The news anchor's voice was calm, detached.

"Val'katlan warriors continue to defend the trenches in the Plains of Leipira, as Ixtiel's forces engage in another series of tactical skirmishes. Thousands of casualties have been reported on both sides. The situation remains under control."

Tlandar's stomach tightened as the screen shifted to battle footage.

Bright green plasma bolts streaked across the battlefield.

Rotating blades sliced through armor, severing limbs, bodies falling in a blur of motion.

Thousands of soldiers fought and died, their faces obscured by helmets, their struggles turned into nothing more than statistics and images on a screen.

Then he saw them—Va'katl's warriors, holding the line. Holding. Always holding.

But for how much longer?

And above them all, the warped distortion in the sky remained still.

The Defiance Vanguard had not yet engaged.

Tlandar still did not know what it was.

But he could feel it.

Something bigger than all of this was waiting.

And for the first time, he felt truly afraid.

Akashma's Presence

"Tlandar."

He turned, finding Akashma standing a few steps away, her red robe draped elegantly over her shoulders, her hood lowered.

Her amber eyes studied him with quiet understanding. "You feel it now, don't you?"

He hesitated, then nodded. "Yes."

She motioned toward the screen, where another battle replayed in muted colors. "You see what I see. And you know what must be done."

Tlandar sighed, rubbing his temples. "I don't know anything anymore."

Akashma stepped closer, her voice gentle, patient.

"Then speak what you feel."

He hesitated, then exhaled, lowering his voice. "I'm afraid."

She nodded. "Of what?"

Tlandar's jaw clenched. "Everything. The war. My sisters. What happens if New Asemeri isn't as safe as I thought? What happens if the hologram was right?"

A pause.

Then, Akashma did something unexpected.

She pulled him into a hug.

Tlandar stiffened at first, unaccustomed to such an act from someone like her. But after a moment, he let himself relax.

Her voice was soft, but firm.

"Fear is not weakness, Tlandar. Fear only becomes weakness when you let it stop you."

He swallowed. "And what if I fail?"

She pulled back slightly, resting her hands on his shoulders.

"Then you stand up and try again."

Meeting the Sisters

Akashma placed a hand on his back, guiding him toward the hallway. "Come. I want to meet them."

Tlandar blinked. "Who?"

She smiled. "Your sisters."

A strange warmth spread in his chest—something he had not expected from her.

When they reached his family's quarters, his sisters were surprised to see him with a stranger, but they greeted Akashma politely.

She knelt slightly to their level, looking between them.

"They are beautiful," she said softly, looking up at Tlandar. "And they need you."

Her words settled deep into his heart.

He had always known it, but hearing it spoken aloud—with such clarity—made it impossible to ignore.

He met Akashma's gaze and, for the first time, he did not argue.

A Farewell and a Confirmation

"I should return to the marketplace," Akashma said after a while. "I have not eaten since I arrived here."

Tlandar nodded, watching her turn toward the exit. "I'll… I'll see you later."

Before she could leave, a Velik'Ashar officer approached—the same one Akashma had spoken to earlier.

The officer gave her a respectful nod. "Is this the one you were looking for?"

Akashma glanced at Tlandar, then back at the officer. "Yes."

The officer nodded, then offered a polite farewell. "Then I wish you well. Safe travels." He turned, walking back to his post.

Tlandar watched the exchange with quiet curiosity. "You didn't tell me you asked around for me."

Akashma smirked slightly. "I needed to be sure of you first."

The Decision

Tlandar returned to his quarters alone.

The news still played on the screens outside. The war still raged.

And for the first time, he truly saw it.

He had no more excuses.

He had no more doubts.

He would join Akashma.

He would follow her guidance.

Because New Asemeri was not as safe as he had once believed.

And his sisters' lives depended on what he did next.

The Gift

Before Tlandar could fully process his emotions, a knock came at his door.

He opened it to find Akashma standing there, holding a folded dark red robe.

She extended it to him. "Put this on when you are ready."

Tlandar took it carefully, feeling the soft but reinforced fabric in his hands. "What is this?"

"A symbol," she said. "And a shield."

She reached into her robe and pulled out a small, metallic device, pressing it into his palm.

"This will activate a personal energy field," she explained. "It will cloak you from sight, just like mine."

Tlandar stared at the device.

A few days ago, he would have laughed at the idea of wearing a robe like hers. At the idea of using a cloaking device.

But now…

Now, he tightened his grip on it.

Akashma watched him closely. "You are walking through the door, Tlandar. You are becoming what you were meant to be."

Tlandar exhaled and finally—finally—nodded.