"...two thousand years since the Calamity of Eris left a dark hole in our night sky. A wound, some scientists still call it. A reminder that the universe does not negotiate. As our understanding of Stars and the life they brought to our solar system continues to evolve. What began as a conflict between two stars ended with something no ancient species had ever recorded — a black hole that consumed itself. Gone in seconds. And yet the absence it left behind reshaped everything. Our atmosphere. Our biology. Our borders."

  A pause from the broadcaster.

  "Researchers continue to debate whether the fragments scattered across North America and the world are gifts... or warnings."

  "Nobody ever talked about what Eris looked like before it was gone or was anything ever recorded."

  The screen flickered to the weather forecast mid-sentence.

  California was always warm, even in the ancient days when a hundred degrees was considered a heatwave. But humans have a talent for ruin. In the year 30XX, the weather frequently clawed its way toward two hundred degrees. Humanity hadn't just adapted; they had rebuilt themselves to survive the kiln they called home.

  Sacramento, a place where only Great oak trees had survived the harsh weather. The pearlish ground is clean and sleek , able to show the reflection of one's self. The sky taking an orange array alongside blue tells me California is permanently in a state that looks like permanent sunset.

  A sharp knock echoed through the Governor's office.

  "Come in," a gravelly but elegant voice answered.

  Governor Julian Vane-Sterling stood before a floor-to-ceiling mirror, his back to the door as he looked out over the shimmering, heat-warped skyline of Sacramento. He was a man of fading stature. Once a towering six-foot-four in his prime, time and the heavy gravity of leadership had shrunk him to a modest five-foot-ten. His hair was a stark, dignified gray. The office smelled like ancient books and old men's perfume. The Federal Bureau of Investigation signature engraved into the floor.

  Despite his age — a staggering one hundred and twenty years — he looked physically fit, thanks to the life-extending technologies that pushed the modern human lifespan toward three centuries. On his neck, a device known as an Optic Chime pulsed with a soft light, changing color in rhythm with his heart rate. His right arm was encased in Light-Glass, a sleek integrated interface that served as his connection to the state's dying power grid.

  "You called for me, Father?"

  Elara Vane-Sterling stepped into the room. Her radiant bronze skin — a heritage of her Hupa-Latine and Mexican descent — caught the dim light of the office. She wore her hair in a sharp, professional bob that shimmered with emerald green at the tips.

  The most striking thing about her, however, were her eyes. They were obsidian black — a void-like depth that was becoming increasingly common in the "New Generation" born near the crash sites of the old Stars.

  "Ah, you finally answered your pops' call," Julian said, turning to face her. The Optic Chime on his neck hummed a warm yellow. "Do you know how worried I was? It's been a month since your last update!"

  Elara crossed her arms behind her back, her posture stiff and tense. "I've been focusing on the mission you gave me. As of right now... there has been no success. I'm sorry. I'll keep you updated more frequently."

  Julian sighed, the Chime on his neck flickering to a weary blue. "Relax. I just wanted to see my daughter. I'll be retiring in a few years, Elara. I'm getting old. But because of that... I need you to search faster. I know you're trying, but—"

  "Ehhh?! What do you mean 'search faster'?" Elara snapped, her composure breaking. "I've been everywhere! I've checked under every bridge in the Republic. I searched the highest peaks of the Disneyland Ruins. I climbed through the wreckage of Yosemite and the pits of Alcatraz. I've scoured every square inch of California that shows even a flicker of Star-energy!"

  She stepped forward, her obsidian eyes flashing. "We need our own Star fragment to stabilize this state, I know that. But I'm not being given enough time!"

  Julian looked at her, his face a mask of quiet disappointment. He took a slow, deep breath. "I understand. That's why I won't announce my retirement until you find it. There's no rush... technically. I can still run in this state."

  He takes a deep breath reclaiming himself and getting the right words ready.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  Julian looked at her with a serious face. A face that dads would make when saying they love you. “Right now Georgia and New Mexico found their star fragments. That just leaves us and Michigan. Im… I'm getting too old to run this country. I'm starting to forget things a lot and.. It's just becoming too much on my body and mind.”

  He straightened up as he caught himself sloshing. “I trust in you.. I mean there's alot you need to fix.. But you can.. I mean will.. Be able to run this state and maybe… The country if it came to it.”

  Elara had never seen her father so serious and… Small. He looked like a lost child right now. She couldn't say anything, not even holding eye contact. She felt like it would break her heart even more. She took his words to heart and understood how dire it was now and how she didn't want to disappoint him even more.

  He paused, a mischievous glint entering his eyes. He knew exactly which fire to stoke to get her moving again.

  "Do you remember that girl from Texas?" he asked softly. "The one you used to get into... 'play fights' with?"

  Elara's lip curled in immediate disgust. "You mean Cassidy Houston? The daughter of the Texas Governor? The weirdo whose father named her after a city?"

  "That's the one," Julian confirmed, rubbing his brow. "Word from the border is that she's entered California. Her exact words were: 'Well, if Elara is struggling, I guess I'll have to do the work. If I find the fragment, California is officially joined with Texas... under our rules.'" Julian's tone dropped to a pitch somewhere between a five-year-old and a bad impression.

  The air in the room seemed to drop several degrees. A dangerous, jagged smile spread across Elara's face. "Oh, really? That's what she said? In that exact tone?"

  "Mhm. She was very confident. Especially since she's bringing her own fragment with her," Julian added, nodding vigorously.

  "And you're telling me... you let her say that? Without a comeback?" Elara's voice was a low hiss of contained fury, the edge of her mouth twitching.

  "Ah? W-wha? N-No! Sweetie, of course I said you would find it way before her and that you — huuuh..." Julian stammered, leaning back as his daughter's shadow loomed over him. He hadn't said a word. He'd just let Cassidy walk all over him. "I told her you'd... uh... kick her butt!"

  The fire in Elara's eyes died instantly, replaced by a look of pure, unadulterated boredom.

  "Really? 'Kick her butt'? What are we? In kindergarten?" She scoffed, turning toward the door. "You know, Dad? You're kind of boring now."

  "I'm... boring?" Julian slumped into his chair, the Optic Chime on his neck turning a depressed, stagnant gray. "I'm not boring... am I?"

  Elara stormed down the hall, her boots clicking sharply against the eagle-crested floor. A boy fell into step beside her, moving with a fluid, rhythmic grace.

  "Hey, Elara! Welcome back," he chirped. "Looking good as usual. Is that a new tie? Ooh, nice choice. Very symmetrical."

  This was Alistair Valentine. He had grown up in the heart of Naples. Of Italian and Cuban descent, Alistair was a vision of high-fashion arrogance. He had sharp, high cheekbones and a jawline that could cut glass. His emerald green eyes were accentuated by a thin line of golden eyeliner on his lower lids, and his voluminous pompadour was a deep, plum purple.

  "I don't have time, Alistair," Elara said without looking at him. "And yes, I know I look good. It's for the public, not for you."

  "Wait!" Alistair stepped in front of her, forcing eye contact. He was tall, made even more imposing by clear acrylic heels that added four inches to his height. He stood with a lithe, flexible posture, like an Olympic fencer ready to strike.

  "I have something you seriously need to see," he whispered, his voice dropping to a low, melodic pitch.

  "If this is another one of your photoshopped couple pictures, I swear, Alistair, I'm going to—"

  He placed a slender, gloved hand over her mouth. "Seriously. It's important. Follow me."

  He led her to a secure, pitch-black room. The smell hitting Elara when she walked in the musk and the smell of burning electronics like a man who is so obsessed with his work that he never leaves his room. As the door hissed shut, he flipped a switch. The walls were covered in monitors displaying drone footage from across the Republic — Castaic, Six Flags Magic Mountain, and the footage showed the lake filled with just people who lived nearby or casuals fishing. The altitude came from high in the air from a drone and another from the freeway nearby. Then one on the shoreline where people would buy boats.

  "We've been looking for 'tombs' because that's what the fragments are — corpses of a Star," Alistair explained, picking up a remote and flipping it expertly in his hand. "We checked Magic Mountain because it had energy signatures, but we kept looking past the obvious."

  He pointed at the screen showing the jagged, desolate shores of Pyramid Lake. "We never checked the lake itself. It's a gamble, Elara... but you have to trust me."

  "No, no, no, no, no." Elara groaned. "The last time I trusted you, I ended up covered in cow manure on a farm in the middle of nowhere!"

  "Elara... please." Alistair's voice was uncharacteristically dire. Gone was his usual playful confidence. "This is the breakthrough. I found the entrance coordinates. Please."

  Elara stared at him, searching his emerald eyes for any sign of a joke. She found none.

  "Fine," she sighed, slamming her fist into her palm. "I'll go. But if I get wet — or even worse — I'm coming for your head."

  "Heh... fair enough." Alistair chuckled nervously and handed her a small, sleek device. "Those are the coordinates. It'll guide you in. I... I believe in you, Elara. I've always admired the way you can just dive into the deep end. I certainly couldn't."

  Elara blushed slightly before her face hardened into a mask of determination. She snatched the device from his hand. "Yeah, yeah. I'll be back in no time, fully intact. I'm going to prove the Vane-Sterling family is still the peak of this world."

  Alistair looks at her with a soft smile “Oh.. Last thing! You'll need your full refraction range out there. Yeah?"

  “Yeah yeah.. I'll be back, don't do anything stupid.” She turned and marched out, the door sliding shut behind her.

  The moment she was gone, the joy vanished from Alistair's face. He turned back to the computer, his fingers flying across the keys with desperate speed. A hidden file appeared on the screen.

  FILE NAME: L.U.A.

  Pictures of a girl filled the monitor. She was athletic, about five-foot-four, with freckles dusting her nose. Her hair was a striking orange from the roots, fading into dark, ink-black tips. In the photos, she was smiling, her blue eyes radiating a strange, terrifying light. Then, in another moment, a short video — her face shifting, morphing seamlessly into Carol Held Knight's face.

  "Just... who the hell are you?" Alistair whispered to the screen.

  It looked like an obsession, a man who couldn't stop till he found his answer, the way he was just glued to the screen. He had seen this same girl in a dark alleyway just nights ago. He had watched her vanish into thin air — not through technology, but as if the world itself had simply erased her.

  As he stared at the blue-eyed girl, the question became much more important: what was actually waiting for Elara at the bottom of Pyramid Lake?