Chapter 5: The Fist of Meqar

In tandem with the departure of each individual from the blue panel, Veruld followed their lead. Stepping methodically, he traversed the corridor bathed in a serene light blue glow. The ambiance of the hall seemed to imbue his strides with a sense of calm, but each step he took became progressively deliberate and laden with an unseen weight. His countenance, once a mask of contemplation, now bore the telltale signs of a decision made—an unwavering commitment to enact his plan.

After a measured progression, he arrived at a door devoid of handles, its surface adorned solely with a touch-pad. His hand extended cautiously toward the touch-pad, but he hesitated. A slow exhalation slipped from his lips, the breath carrying with it the promise of calmness, his mind's storm quelled by the air's gentle flow. In this fleeting moment of hesitation, his thoughts rewound, retracing the intricate tapestry of his life's journey.

He remembered the days of his youth, a period of vulnerability marked by stumbling through the city's alleys, seeking ways to eke out even the faintest opportunity to earn a living. Adulthood arrived through trials and the pursuit of sustenance, driven by a need to procure any source of protein available.

From there, he found himself embroiled in a conscripted army training program. Within the barracks, during sparring matches, and amidst assessment expeditions, he encountered a plethora of diverse allies and adversaries. He committed himself wholeheartedly, a dedication that led him to the threshold of a galactic battle, a moment that brought with it not only struggle and despair but also a firsthand glimpse into the horrors of war.

In the theater of this cosmic clash, warships imploded in silence, their explosive dance shrouded by the vast expanse of space. Bright beams of light discharged, crashing into opposing vessels. Amidst the chaos, floating remnants and the lifeless forms of comrades marred the once-pristine backdrop, their presence accentuated by hardened glass panes. In witnessing the grotesque reality of war, he clenched his hands, a physical affirmation of his resolve to become stronger and ensure his survival.

The passage of years saw him ascend, morphing into a figure of indomitable strength and wisdom, earning the admiration and respect of his peers. Yet, his stature drew both challenges and threats; adversaries sought to usurp his authority, resorting to abduction and assassination attempts. In response, he instigated transformative change, ousting the corrupted monarch of Meqar and replacing the tainted regime with his own governance. His actions, firm and unwavering, earned him the reverence and adulation of his people, bestowing upon him the title "stellar fist of Meqar."

As his thoughts meandered through the chapters of his past, Veruld's determination solidified. His hand connected with the scanner's surface, initiating a process illuminated by a gentle light blue glow. The scanner's recognition mirrored his inward resolve, and soon a soothing feminine AI voice resonated through the hushed corridors, marking the culmination of his journey.

"Scanning... High-Authority status has been acknowledge....."

"Welcome, your eminence Veruld Qaith'mere"

As the door slowly slid open, Veruld saw that there was someone in his office. and it could only refer to the individuals who had permission to enter his quarters.

"Dad!!"

A young female child that wore futuristic cloth skirt came running to Veruld's embrace.

"Verlun, how i misses both of you with your mother. How's my little princess doing in school?"

As Veruld's arms cradled Verlun, a tender chuckle escaped his lips, mirroring the soft radiance of a father's joy. This moment of warmth stood in stark contrast to the demeanor he often wore in the presence of adversaries and subordinates—his countenance perpetually etched with an air of gravity. In this instance, however, his stern facade yielded to the genuine affection and love that flowed freely toward his own kin. It was a reminder that even the coldest heart can find its edges softened by the irreplaceable bonds of family. The scene was reminiscent of a cherished painting, where the colors of affection painted a heartwarming tableau against the backdrop of his usual unyielding resolve.

"We've learn lots of things dad! like how we try to d-delve on the matter of, primonia fruit, in which is my favorite drink!"

"Then i'll let someone make it for you right now."

Their intertwined laughter reverberated, a harmonious melody that filled the room and spilled into the air, a testament to the authenticity of their affection. Amidst this communion, a soft utterance found its voice, accompanied by the synchronized movement of their gazes toward the corner of the room.

The office exudes a sense of expansiveness, its center dominated by a sleek, blue futuristic table seamlessly integrated into the floor. Adjacent to it, a chair defies gravity, suspended in mid-air, radiating a calming blue glow from beneath.

Stretching across the back is a vast, blue glass window, offering a panoramic view from a small balcony that overlooks the city from a lofty vantage point. This window into the urban landscape enhances the space with a touch of breathtaking beauty.

Decorations grace the walls, appearing as trophies and medals, their transparency giving them an ethereal, holographic quality. These symbols of achievement hang like celestial artifacts, capturing the essence of accomplishment.

In the midst of these accolades, one unassuming object stands out—a family photograph. It portrays three individuals; Veruld, Verlun, and lastly Nurvue. Amidst the grandeur of achievements, this portrait imparts a profound sense of familial connection and warmth, an understated treasure amidst the grand tapestry.

"A-ahem"

Veruld's gaze shifts to his wife, a fond smile curving his lips.

"Ah, my love, please forgive me for not seeing you sooner. Our little princess has captured my attention."

With a tender grin, he gently tickles Verlun, drawing out gleeful laughter.

A soft, contented sigh escapes Nurvue's lips as she observes the scene. Warmth fills her smile as her eyes move between her husband and their daughter, cherishing the playful bond they share.

Gently setting Verlun down, Veruld takes measured steps toward his wife, a rush of nostalgia and affection filling his heart. He leans in, placing a tender kiss upon her forehead, a gesture that carries years of shared memories.

With a soft smile, he extends his fingers to trace the strands of her smooth, white, silky hair, his touch a gentle caress that speaks volumes of his love and devotion.

"What's the problem dear? is there something on your mind that has been making you worried with?"

Nurvue held Veruld hands while he was brushing his hand towards her hair.

"..."

Nurvue's question hung in the air, enveloping the room in a palpable tension. Veruld's response was a heavy silence, his thoughts seemingly lost in a distant thought. Just as the weight of the moment threatened to become overwhelming, a gentle tug on his clothes brought him back to reality. Exhaling a deep sigh, Veruld's features softened, but worry still etched into his expression.

Nurvue's brow furrowed, concern dancing in her eyes as she read his unspoken turmoil. Meanwhile, Verlun remained innocently oblivious to the intricate currents of adult communication, standing beside with an air of childlike curiosity.

"Please, there's something important I need to discuss with both of you," Veruld's voice resonated with a serious and worry tone, a weight of gravity underlying his words. He beckoned his wife and child to join him, his expression hinting at the significance of the forthcoming conversation.