The stars hung like frozen tears above the dying world of Habellion. Its great spires, once proud monuments to technological achievement, today stood as hollow sentinels against the endless void. Inside the command center, within the observation deck of one of its towers, Evan pressed his hand upon the cold glass in awe of the shimmer that covered the night sky at each wave of Aether energy. The ethereal source of energy that, after centuries, had upheld this civilization was failing—each day its blue radiation being a little less luminous.

A far-off explosion lit the horizon. Another defense perimeter was down.

"Evan."

Commander Joan's voice broke through his reverie. "The Council wants to see you."

He moved away from the window, his E-rank medic insignia faintly glowing in the dim light. In a world where rank was everything, a summons from the Council meant execution or a suicide mission. For a low-ranked medic like him, he suspected both were equally likely.

"Did they say why?" he asked, though he already knew the answer.

Joan's face did not change, but her eyes told a different story. "They're calling it Project Earth."

The words sent a shiver down his spine. Everyone knew about Earth—the simulation they'd created decades ago when the first war had begun. A virtual world where they had tried to breed humans capable of surviving on lower Aether concentrations. Supposedly, it would have been their backup plan, their salvation.

It had failed.

Emergency sirens wailed in the distance as they walked through the corridors of the command center. Forces from the Cheso Empire were closing in on them, their ships even visible through the remaining atmospheric barriers. Their rival civilization had hunted for every known source of Aether in the known universe, and now it came for Habellion's last reserves.

Before them the chambers of the Council were built like a colossus, its doors hewed with intricate patterns where the Aether flowed upon its surfaces. Inside it twelve figures in a great semi-circle, their countenances lit by an emerald blue glow that seemed to have welled from the Aether-infused crystals set into the very walls. At their center rose Arthur Elliot, head scientist of Project Earth.

"Evan," Arthur's voice echoed into the chamber. "You understand why you're here?"

Evan straightened his back, trying to hide his quivering hands. "No, sir."

"You're here because you failed." Arthur's words stung. "Today, in the medical bay, you spent nearly all your Aether reserves trying to save a dying soldier. Against direct orders. Against protocol."

George's face passed through Evan's mind, the best friend dead in his arms just hours ago. "He was my friend."

"Yes, exactly." Arthur stepped forward. "In a world where Aether decides everything - our technology, our survival, our lives - you decided on compassion instead of efficiency. Humanity over protocol." He allowed a small smile. "That's why you are so suitable for this mission.

The Council members stirred, their disapproval evident in their postures. One of them spoke up, "Arthur, he's an E-rank. The lowest of our medical corps. Sending him could doom us all."

"Or save us," Arthur added in. He looked back at Evan now. "The Earth simulation's blowing its seams. The Aether flow patterns are going haywire. We risk losing both earth and Habellion in the process. Now I need someone to go in - someone who can operate on a basic-level world whilst keeping an ear on the disruption. Someone, meanwhile, who won't be missed if they fail."

"Because, Evan, in a world of soldiers and scientists bred for efficiency, you still remember what it means to be human. And where you're going, that's going to matter more than any rank."

Arthur gestured and a holographic display manifested in the center of the room. It showed Earth—a beautiful blue planet, so different from their technological wasteland. "You'll have three days in Habellion time to complete your mission. In Earth's time frame, that's three decades. Find the source of the disruption and fix it, or both worlds fall."

"And if I refuse?"

The silence was sufficient to reply.

Another explosion struck outside, making the building tremble. Cheso forces were approaching closer and closer.

"The transport is ready," Arthur said. "You'll be fitted with superior powers and state-of-the-art tech, dressed up in robes as if divine. So that you may appear well-adjusted in this medieval era on Earth. You understand the simulation might be fabricated but people within it are actual beings-now: their existence, faith, world. Don't mess with it."

Evan looked out the window for one last time to watch his dying world, remember George, all of whom had died to protect it. Maybe this was the chance to make those sacrifices mean something.

"When do I leave?"

Arthur's smile grew wider. "Now."