Fractured Worlds

My name is Ryan.

I’m twenty-one years old, and like every Xenos born on Nedar, I’ve been told since childhood that we are the pinnacle of intelligent life.

To be honest...

I believed it.

The skyline of Nedar stretched endlessly beyond my apartment balcony.

Silver towers pierced the clouds like polished crystal, connected by floating transit lanes that shimmered with streams of blue light. Massive gardens grew hundreds of meters above the ground, suspended by gravity stabilizers that had become so ordinary no one stopped to admire them anymore.

Everything worked.

Everything always worked.

The city breathed with technology.

Above me, transport vessels drifted silently between districts while thousands of citizens disappeared and reappeared inside public teleportation stations scattered throughout every street. It cost a few Chamars to travel, but it was faster than walking and safer than any vehicle ever invented.

People rarely spoke aloud.

Instead, thoughts flowed effortlessly between minds.

“Morning.”

“Morning.”

“See you at work.”

Entire conversations lasted seconds.

That was simply life on Nedar.

Our species—the Xenoses—had evolved beyond spoken dependence centuries ago.

With skin that gleamed like polished white stone beneath the sun and naturally blue hair that ranged from pale azure to deep sapphire, we looked nothing like the mythical humans described in forgotten fictional stories.

Humans never existed.

Only us.

Only the Xenoses.

And, as far as we knew...

Only Nedar.

The other planets visible in our skies were little more than lifeless extremes.

To the west hung Harek, a world consumed by unbearable heat and endless deserts.

To the east floated Blanir, a frozen sphere trapped beneath eternal snowstorms.

Scientists occasionally studied them through satellites and probes, but nobody seriously entertained the idea that intelligent life could exist there.

Why would it?

Nothing could survive those conditions.

At least...

that was the consensus.

“Ryan! Breakfast!”

My mother’s voice echoed through the apartment.

Unlike telepathy, some habits never disappeared.

I smiled and stepped away from the balcony.

“I’m coming.”

The dining room overlooked half the city.

My father, Mark, sat reading the morning planetary reports on a transparent display projected above the table.

Without looking up, he sent a thought across the room.

“Late again.”

I smirked.

“I’m still early.”

“Barely.”

Mother rolled her eyes.

“You two could just say it out loud.”

Sandra had always preferred speaking, claiming it gave conversations more personality.

She placed breakfast onto the table before taking her seat.

Even after all these years, I still found it amusing that the smartest civilization in known existence still argued over who forgot to wash the dishes.

“Big day?” she asked.

“Resource collection.”

Father finally lowered the holographic display.

“The southern excavation zone?”

I nodded.

“Layla and Roxy are already waiting.”

Father smiled proudly.

“Good.”

Resource collectors were among the most respected professions on Nedar.

Not because the work was glamorous.

Because civilization depended on it.

Every piece of advanced technology on Nedar traced back to two extraordinary natural materials.

The first was Stryton.

A radiant crystalline mineral unlike any other energy source.

A fragment no larger than a fingertip could power an entire residential district for weeks.

The second was even more valuable.

Hydracarium.

The strongest naturally occurring metal ever discovered.

Lightweight.

Exceptionally durable.

Heat-resistant.

Virtually impossible to deform using conventional tools.

Every teleportation gate...

Every orbital station...

Every medical device...

Every spacecraft...

Every major invention relied on Hydracarium in one form or another.

Without those two resources...

Modern civilization simply wouldn’t exist.

Which explained why collectors like us were always in demand.

Outside, I activated my phone.

Calling it a “phone” hardly did it justice.

The slim device projected holographic displays into the air, translated languages instantly, monitored health in real time, accessed planetary databases within milliseconds, and could synchronize telepathically with its owner for hands-free operation.

A notification appeared.

Layla: You overslept again.

Another arrived immediately.

Roxy:* Just wait he’ll blame it on work.*

I laughed.

“You’re both impossible.”

“And yet we’re waiting for you.”

The nearest teleportation station stood only a few blocks away.

After paying the transport fee through my phone, a circular platform illuminated beneath my feet.

Blue rings of energy surrounded me.

A pulse of light flashed.

The city vanished.

An instant later, I stood nearly eighty kilometers away at the Resource Collection Headquarters.

Hundreds of collectors filled the facility.

Some prepared excavation drones.

Others calibrated geological scanners.

Autonomous machines loaded enormous transport carriers with freshly mined materials.

Near the entrance stood Layla and Roxy.

Layla folded her arms the moment she saw me.

“Took you long enough.”

“I was exactly thirty-seven seconds late.”

Roxy laughed.

“Only Ryan would measure being late.”

I shrugged.

“Accuracy matters.”

“It does when you’re him,” Layla muttered.

The three of us walked toward the equipment bay together.

We had worked as a team for nearly three years.

Different personalities.

Different strengths.

Yet somehow...

we always found ourselves assigned to the same missions.

None of us knew that today’s routine assignment was simply another ordinary day on Nedar.

Or that somewhere beyond everything we believed about our world...

history was already moving toward us.