The day before had been unremarkable, yet there was a certain edge in the air that Hopeful couldn't shake, even as he sat in the silent expanse of his warzone. As usual, his body hummed with a mixture of mechanical precision and organic alertness. The sounds of engines, metal scraping on iron, echoed faintly in the distance, but they were mere background noise. His mind was elsewhere.
"Hopeful," a voice cut through the stillness, warm yet commanding. "You're brooding again." It was Ilane. He made no move to turn; he knew she was near.
"I'm not brooding," Hopeful replied, though his words lacked conviction. He knew the truth: he brooded—often too much for his own liking. The kingdom—a vast, unyielding warzone, stretching into an endless horizon; his purpose—equally unclear. There was still so much he didn't understand about the kingdom, its territories, its people. The land stretched far beyond what his mind could fully grasp, a sprawling expanse of continents and colonies scattered across distant stars, each one a puzzle piece he had yet to put together. The sheer scale of it all felt overwhelming—a weight he could never fully escape.
Ilane had crossed the boundary wall, journeying far from her warzone in her tank form. As she neared Hopeful's sanctuary, she shifted from tank form to humanoid, her silhouette emerging in the archway, framed by the soft glow of the portal. The sleek, pulsing archway marked the boundary between the sterile corridors of the station and a peaceful garden within. She didn't use the main gate, the path she took was known only to her.
Beyond it, Hopeful sat beneath an artificial tree, its synthetic leaves stirring in the calm of the garden, a rare oasis in the utilitarian expanse. He rested in a chair, savoring the quiet after the day's war.
"You've been at this for hours, staring at the same patch of ground." Ilane's tone softened. "I know your mind works in ways I can't always follow, but you don't need to face this alone."
Hopeful finally turned, his gaze meeting hers. "I think I do," he muttered. "I've been thinking about the future... about what I'm supposed to be. This warzone, it's all I've known, but there's more out there. More that we don't understand."
Ilane's eyes narrowed, but she gave a small nod, acknowledging his struggle. "We're bound by the same laws of battle. You know this better than anyone."
"But not just battle," Hopeful added, his voice growing more intense. "The king spoke of more. Leadership, strategy, a commander for the south. I'm not even sure I'm meant to lead."
"You'll never know until you step forward, Hopeful." Ilane's voice was calm but firm. "You were born for this. The way you've handled this warzone... your instincts. They're sharper than most. But it's not just the war. It's what you do with it that matters."
Hopeful hesitated, chewing on the words. He thought of the tanks he had destroyed, the fruts, that is, the elemental bonuses, harvested from the wreckage, the endless cycles of wars. His existence had been defined by battle. But that wasn't enough anymore.
"Maybe you're right," he muttered. "But I still don't have what it takes. Not yet."
Ilane gave him a wry smile. "Not yet. But you will." She paused for a moment, letting the silence stretch. "Have you thought about what you'll do when the time comes?"
"I don't know if the time is coming," Hopeful admitted, "But I feel it. Like a storm brewing just beyond the horizon. It's there. And I can't ignore it."
Ilane tilted her head thoughtfully. "I suppose the future is always like that. Unseen, unpredictable. But it's not about avoiding the storm—it's about preparing for it."
Hopeful nodded slowly, understanding more than he let on. The kingdom of Higna was built on constant motion, constant preparedness. To pause was to fall behind, to lose the edge.
"But today?" Ilane continued, her voice lightening, "You should join me, and the others. It'll do you good. You can't spend all your time thinking about what's next without enjoying what's in front of you."
"Others?" Hopeful raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued.
"Yes, others." Ilane gestured vaguely in the direction of his friends. "They've been asking about you. They've planned a night out—a cinema. It's a break from the non-stop wars, and maybe just what you need."
Hopeful considered it. Cinema in Higna was no ordinary pastime. It wasn't a film reel or a screen you could shut off. The images on the screen were live transmissions from other worlds, projections from beyond Higna's borders. They were like books made real, entire lives and histories unfolding before their eyes, each world as tangible as their own.
"Live transmission...?" Hopeful muttered, half to himself.
"Yes," Ilane replied, "But different from the usual—this one's a special release. You can see things you don't usually get to. Lives from distant planets. Stories beyond what we know."
That caught Hopeful's interest. He hadn't had a chance to experience the cinema in a while. The idea of watching lives unfold in real-time, the way they did in other worlds, was a kind of adventure he couldn't resist.
"Alright," he agreed, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "But only because I need to get my mind off things."
Ilane's smile returned, softer now, as if she knew he was more ready than he realized. "Good. And remember," she added, "Don't get lost in the visions of others. You're building your own, Hopeful."
Later, as the evening descended into a murky twilight, Hopeful stood with Ilane and his friends—three tanks and their southern commanders, or tank partners, making a total of six. They gathered near the entrance of the cinema hall, the air humming with quiet anticipation. As they stepped inside, the room darkened, and a giant screen appeared before them, stretching the entire length of the hall.
The film began—a swirling mix of colors and sounds that transcended the usual boundaries of storytelling. It was more than a narrative. It was a direct, unfiltered experience. The first image that appeared was a planet that seemed so familiar yet so strange: a lush world with sprawling fields and vast oceans.
"What is this place?" Jean asked, her voice tinged with awe.
"It's called Lowna," Javet said, who was her northern partner. "A planet of peace, at least by their standards." He had done some research about it all; after all, he had planned everything, looking forward to it.
The images unfolded in real time, showing a society much different from Higna's—one of harmony, beauty, and simplicity. It was a strange thing to witness for Hopeful. The people on this world didn't know the act of war he'd been raised in. They didn't understand the weight of combat or the necessity of constant conflict.
"This is... this is what you mean by a break?" Hopeful whispered to Ilane, his voice barely audible.
Ilane gave him a sideways glance. "Not all worlds are built the way ours is."
The film continued, showcasing lives unfolding on Lowna, where creatures and machines lived side by side in a peaceful cohabitation. Hopeful watched, mesmerized by the peacefulness of it, but something inside him stirred uneasily.
"The king always talks about balance," Hopeful said quietly. "I wonder if we're ever really out of balance."
Ilane turned to him, her expression unreadable. "Balance, Hopeful... it's not always about peace. Sometimes, it's about knowing how to face the storm. And knowing when to stand ready for what's to come."
As the images continued to swirl on the screen, Hopeful's mind drifted to the task ahead. There was a future to prepare for—a world to lead, perhaps, in ways he hadn't yet imagined. The film was over, but the thoughts it provoked lingered, like the weight of a dream still unfolding.
As the cinema lights flickered back to life, the audience slowly began to stir, the air thick with the lingering echoes of what they had just witnessed. The experience had been intense, each world projected on the screen leaving its own mark on the minds of the viewers.