Pluton unfolds before the visitor as a realm of eternal twilight, where shadows dance across a landscape of icy plains and jagged mountain peaks.
The air is crisp and biting, a constant reminder of the planet's alien nature.
Ribbons of frozen methane weave through the terrain, glinting faintly under the dim light of a distant sun.
Amidst this stark beauty lies Gold City, a dazzling oasis of warmth and brilliance. Its towering spires and shimmering, golden-hued architecture stand in stark contrast to the harsh, icy surroundings.
Streets paved with glowing stones guide visitors through a city that seems alive with color and melody.
In the vibrant heart of Gold City, the Grand Plaza bursts with light, its fountains of liquid starlight casting vibrant reflections that dance across the faces of its diverse and purposeful inhabitants, each person a vivid thread in the city's rich tapestry.
From the swirling maw of a rift in reality, a jet of pristine white burst into existence, the epitome of sleek precision against the backdrop of Pluton's enigmatic landscape.
Its arrival was like the striking of a match against the vastness, a dazzling beacon that commanded attention.
Within this graceful vessel sat young Prince Bakari, the luminescent screens of his flight console casting an ethereal glow upon his focused visage.
His fingers danced frantically over the controls, a rhythmic staccato of urgency, as he uttered a whispered mantra, "Delete, delete, delete."
Each word was laced with intent, a silent plea to the digital ether to erase the damning records of his exploits.
The instant his task was complete, Bakari reclined with a sigh of relief, his arms stretching skyward as if in quiet celebration.
A self-satisfied grin graced his features as he murmured to himself in triumphant tones, "Yes, there we go."
Tranquility shattered. Bioluminescent glyphs on Bakari's obsidian arm sleeve flared, projecting a complex, shifting hologram.
From this translucent apparition emanated a voice, cultured and imposing, that pierced the air with authority. "Lord Bakari," it intoned with a reverence befitting his title.
Startled, Bakari's heart skipped a beat, his hand instinctively flying to his chest as if to steady the rhythm that the sudden intrusion had disrupted.
The dimly lit cockpit was filled with the slightly crackling image of Orion's hologram, casting a cool blue glow that mingled with the ambient lights of Bakari's jet.
Bakari leaned back in his seat, an incredulous smile spreading across his face.
"Orion, you can't just scare a brother like that," he remarked, still catching his breath from the unexpected surprise.
Orion, with his composed demeanor, replied, "If a brother wasn't doing something he wasn't supposed to be doing, he wouldn't be scared."
His holographic visage flickered slightly, yet it maintained the distinct air of authority.
Bakari chuckled, shaking his head. "You're something else, man."
"Whatever that means," Orion said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I need you to come to the palace immediately."
"Why? What's going on?" Bakari's curiosity piqued, underlined by a twinge of concern.
"Just come; I'll tell you everything when you arrive." With a final flicker, Orion's image dissipated, leaving Bakari in the hush of his cabin.
Mocking Orion's tone under his breath, Bakari navigated his jet smoothly to the palace, bringing it down with practiced ease.
The grand expanse was unusually void of its usual regiment of guards, leaving only Orion there to greet him.
Stepping out with arms wide in a feigned embrace, Bakari called, "Orion, my man!"
Orion commanded, "Follow me," his voice a low rumble. He was a figure of stark contrasts: a tailored white jacket over dark jeans, elegance masking menace. A sharp, white wolf mask concealed his face, its red lines emphasizing predatory eyes.
"Who put ants in your milk?" Bakari quipped, trying to lighten the mood as they moved briskly through echoing corridors towards his room. Once inside, Orion shut the door with a definitive click.
"Come in. You've got me concerned. What's going on?" Bakari asked, feeling the seriousness of the situation closing in.
Orion studied him through his mask, emanating an air of gravity. "Okay, since you were exploring the galaxy—"
Bakari interrupted with a dismissive wave, "Pfft, what? I've been here."
Orion's look was unwavering, compelling Bakari to relent, "Okay, carry on."
"Your parents are missing," Orion said, his tone heavy with implication.
Bakari blinked, disbelief etching his features. "Mind saying that again? 'Cause I'm positive I didn't hear you right."
"Your parents are missing," Orion reiterated, his voice firm and unwavering.
"Missing? How is that even possible? They are the King and Queen!" Bakari's voice rose, steeped in disbelief.
"The King and Queen are not immune to danger," Orion replied steadily, his gaze unflinching.
Rubbing his face in frustration, Bakari turned away, processing the impossible news. "You can't be serious. How did this happen, and when?"
Orion explained, "It happened when you left on your trip."
"So why didn't anybody tell me?" Bakari protested, frustration bubbling over.
"You took the Lunar Spear. It has no function for communication, plus, you are the first suspect," Orion said pointedly.
Bakari's expression shifted from shock to confusion. "What now?" he asked, searching for direction in the tumultuous swirl of accusations and reality.
Orion turned to Bakari with a grave expression. "Stay here. I'll return soon and send Yuri to take you to the cave."
Bakari, surprised and apprehensive, asked, "Wait, what is the council saying?"
"They've issued your arrest," Orion replied firmly.
As Orion left the prince backed away, tension tightening his every move.
Orange eyes gazed at the golden city, thumb rubbing his palm – a subtle sign of tension. Warm brown skin and silky curls hinted at a regal air, yet vulnerability lingered.
Gazing out over the city, he murmured, "What am I supposed to do now?" His thoughts were a chaotic blend of confusion. "Why would I kidnap my own Parents?"
Gazing out over the city, he murmured, "What am I supposed to do now?" His thoughts were a chaotic blend of confusion.
"Why would I kidnap my own parents?"
Suddenly, the door burst open with a thunderous crash, echoing in the room.
He flinched, spinning to face men in black and gold leather dashikis, swords gleaming at their sides.
Composing himself, he quipped, "Don't you guys know how to knock?" letting the tension linger in the charged air.
The leader, holding a parchment aloft, proclaimed, "Bakari Isaiah Mevrod, by decree of the council, we are here to arrest you for the abduction of King Michael Mevrod and Queen Sheba."
The officer with the afro, a cigarette dangling from his lips, sneered, "Knew it! Half-breeds and their tainted blood... couldn't suppress it forever. Had to come out eventually." He glanced at the others.
The short, yellow-eyed officer sighed. "Kind of sad, though. Doing it to his own parents..." he said to the afro officer.
The bald, white-eyed female officer shook her head. "He came back right after the prison break. No coincidence," she replied to the yellow eyed officer.
Balarin stepped forward. "Bakari," he said, his hand hovering near his sword. "Slow down, fellas." He glanced at his team.
They all drew their energy swords, the hum filling the room. an echo of imminent danger.
He paused, his head leaning slightly to the side.
Have they lost their minds? Blades on a Prince? Mistake or suicide? De-escalate, assess, figure out what's happening before someone dies.
The leader's voice dripped with barely suppressed fury. "We seek no conflict," he spat, the words a thinly veiled threat. "Cooperate, and maybe we'll find a 'peaceful' resolution.
Don't, and you'll regret the day you were born."
Bakari closed his eyes, a muscle twitching in his jaw. He spoke through gritted teeth, the words barely audible. "There it is."
One of the few things the Prince genuinely hated was being threatened.
"You invade my quarters, threaten me, and demand compliance? Think again."
Anger flared within him, and the orange in Bakari's eyes intensified, burning like molten metal.
The leader barked, "Prepare for combat!" The officers immediately shifted into combat stances, energy swords held ready. The stone floor vibrated faintly beneath their feet.
The stone floor vibrated faintly beneath their feet.
A cold fury settled in Bakari's heart, eclipsing all other thoughts. They wanted a fight? He would give them a war.