The bridge of the Sumerian spaceship was eerily silent, devoid of the usual flashing lights and bustling control panels. There were no large windows to gaze at the stars, only a claustrophobic space filled with towering monitors that offered views of the outside. The walls were lined with empty panels, likely functioning as touchpads. A narrow, three-inch window, positioned at eye level, framed the view of the outside world, offering little more than a sliver of space.

  If Alessandro were still the young man he once was, he would have cracked a joke, asking, “Is it okay to snack in this room? Where’s the kitchen?” But that man was long gone. In the span of just two weeks, he had changed. His patience was drained, his heart heavy with regret over the deaths of the Sumer soldiers who had given their lives to defend them. He could have saved them, if only he had been faster in raising the fume shield.

  He wondered, in that moment, if any Ars Pherian would have done what those soldiers did. Choose to die in service to their Queen. Would an Ars Pherian, any Ars Pherian, be willing to give their life and become a hero by choice? The question gnawed at him, but his thoughts turned bitter, a burning rage boiling up inside. Before he even realized what was happening, he was screaming, extending his dark fumes all around S-152.

  Missiles struck the fume shield, the explosions rocking the side of the ship. Then another missile, and another. The projectiles rained down from both sides, but the fume shield held strong. The ship remained unscathed, untouched by the attacks.

  And then, silence.

  “They’re turning the missile heads down on the city,” General Urla warned. “They can hit the city in as little as three minutes.”

  “I can’t let this happen!” Alessandro shouted. “Do you know which one Princess An is on?”

  “No!” Queen Nammu cried, panic rising in her chest. “We cannot know for sure!”

  “Then make a damn good guess!” Alessandro snapped back, his frustration boiling over. “I can’t let them hit my city! There could still be people left behind!”

  “The one on the right!” General Urla said quickly. “Ninety percent chance. It’s sealed, and its connection door is facing S-152.”

  “Good. We’ll aim at the missiles on the left one,” Alessandro said. “Can we hit them before they hit the city?”

  “I believe so,” the General replied. In a matter of seconds, he aimed and fired. A large explosion erupted on the side of the Sumer ship, destroying its missile system.

  The other Sumer ship halted its missiles, their trajectory now pointed away from the city.

  “Good! They got the message! Now let’s show them who’s in charge!” Alessandro said, a sharp edge to his voice.

  He turned to General Urla. “Is there any way we can take control of these ships?”

  The General hesitated, his mind racing through the options. “The only way is through the flagship,” he replied. “But its systems are down. They’re keeping it afloat using kinetic stabilizers from the other two ships. If those fail, the flagship will drop straight into the gravity well and crash into your planet.”

  “Technically, we can transfer power from S-152 to the flagship and try to get its systems back online,” Queen Nammu said, her tone matter-of-fact, as though recalling something she had read years ago.

  The General nodded, his face grim. “That’s correct. But as soon as we lose our position, Queen An will likely try to target the city again. We’d be vulnerable.”

  “I will take the shuttle and protect my planet,” Alessandro said firmly. “You and Queen Nammu will take over the flagship and then the other ships.”

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  “You’re leaving us vulnerable,” Queen Nammu protested, her voice tight with worry. “If you leave, we lose our shield.”

  Alessandro met her gaze, his expression resolute. “I can’t let them strike Terra Nova. I’m the only one who can hold off their missiles with the fume shield. You both need to secure the ships and control the situation.”

  He didn’t wait for further argument, his focus already shifting to the task at hand.

  “There is no other way!” Alessandro insisted, his voice sharp with urgency. “Queen Nammu, if you don’t want your daughter to get hurt, you must take the risk and try. I could easily send every Sumer ship hovering over my planet into outer space in a flaming ball of wreckage.”

  His eyes locked onto hers, unflinching. “But I’m giving you the chance to make the right choice. You’ll need to act quickly, or we all lose.”

  Queen Nammu would have gladly risked her life for her people, but her daughter was her weak spot. She looked into Alessandro's eyes and saw the courage there, the strength of a true leader, someone who could make decisions and take risks without hesitation. Nothing could stop him now. He was an emperor.

  For now, this was all she could ask from him. She nodded, her resolve hardening, and whispered a quiet thank you. Then, without another word, she followed him to the shuttle.

  Queen Nammu was a tall, imposing figure, nearly matching Alessandro in height. Sumerian women were raised to be warriors, trained from a young age to use weapons, run long distances, and lift heavy weights. This rigorous training continued even after she ascended to the throne. Her days were filled with a blend of physical conditioning and intense education, pushing her to remain at the peak of both her physical strength and mental acuity.

  Queen Nammu silently helped Alessandro carry the bodies of the fallen Sumer soldiers into the spaceship. She knew both personally, soldiers who had given their lives to protect her. With a solemn gesture, she gently closed their eyes and draped pieces of cloth from her metallic Sumerian attire over their faces. Alessandro watched the sadness emanating from her in an intense dark blue emotional aura. It was the first time he truly saw the human side of the Sumer Queen, her grief, her loss and her heart.

  “Good luck,” he whispered, his voice soft as he turned toward the shuttle and closed the connection door behind him.

  They shared a long, emotional look, Queen Nammu’s eyes glistening with unshed tears as she gazed at the young Emperor one last time before he left.

  Queen Nammu turned back toward the control room, her gaze fixed on the shuttle as it slowly distanced itself from S-152, positioning itself further down over the sprawling city of Terra Nova. A strange stillness hung in the air as General Urla steered S-152 beneath the flagship, preparing for the connection. The Sumer ships, once brimming with tension, now fell eerily silent.

  Queen Nammu could sense the shift, an undercurrent of uncertainty. The Ziggurat priestesses, no doubt, were deep in debate, their next move a matter of life and death. The Ziggurat had expected to strike at her ship again, but with each passing moment, as they waited for the connection, that window of opportunity was slipping away. Every second was precious now, and the longer they hesitated, the less likely it became that they could execute their plan.

  “Let’s make them even more confused,” Queen Nammu suggested, then requested communication with S-154, the ship holding Princess An.

  The priestess on the other end accepted the communication and repeated:

  “In the name of Queen An of Sumer, we order your immediate surrender! If you do not comply, we will not hesitate to use nuclear force to obliterate both Ars Pheria and the flagship.”

  “Do you know why you cannot harm Ars Pheria or the shuttle?” Queen Nammu asked, her voice calm and steady at the verge of overconfidence.

  The priestess remained silent.

  “Because the Emperor of Ars Pheria is protected by the Ghull himself. The very same Ghull who serves the spirits you worshipped in fear and despair. Do not oppose the Ghull. You cannot win.”

  Queen Nammu ended the communication before the priestess could respond. The Sumer ships remained silent, as if paralyzed by the Queen's words. Meanwhile, General Urla successfully connected to the flagship, initiating the charge of its operational and control systems. The countdown had begun, two minutes. Two minutes that felt like a lifetime to Queen Nammu. Two minutes to determine every other moment of her future.

  One and a half minutes left. All the Sumer ships came to a halt at an altitude of twenty-five thousand feet, then began to accelerate, rising higher alongside the flagship.

  One minute. The Sumer ships halted at an altitude of thirty thousand feet, suspended in uncertainty. Perhaps they were contemplating taking the flagship out of Ars Pheria, hoping to escape the emperor’s influence, fearing the spirits. In their panic, they miscalculated. They didn’t have enough fuel to carry the flagship back to open space. They’d need to reserve enough to wait for the rest of the Sumer fleet.

  Thirty seconds. The two Sumer spaceships severed the kinetic tether holding the flagship, letting it freefall into the Ars Pherian atmosphere, with S-152 trailing beneath. Queen Nammu held her breath, gripping her safety belt tightly, her gaze fixed on General Urla in despair.

  “We’ll hit the shuttle in fifteen seconds!” General Urla cried in panic.