It began without sound.
No alarms. No sirens. No system prompt or emergency alert.
Only a feeling.
A hum in the air—soft as breath, barely noticeable at first. The skies above Elysiar remained clear, the wind calm, the city bathed in the same ethereal glow that marked its steady growth. But to those attuned to the system—those chosen, summoned, or born of the planet's mystery—something shifted.
Mara sat cross-legged within the Vault of Balance, eyes closed, hands resting gently on her knees. The air around her was still, the stone cool beneath her, the Force weaving around her body in subtle streams.
Then, without warning, her breathing hitched.
She felt it. A tremor.
Not in the Force exactly—not the way she had felt dark presences or tension during battle—but something else.
A presence. Plural. Distant.
Her eyes snapped open.
Someone—no, several—were coming.
She rose slowly, casting a glance toward the central spire above the vault. The Force pulsed once, lightly, in her chest.
She wasn't the only one who felt it.
High above the city, Adam stood atop the observation platform of the Nexus Spire, watching the horizon.
The wind was different.
Not colder, not stronger.
But alive. Expectant.
A familiar chime sounded softly in his inner vision—system-linked, but not like before.
It wasn't a notification. Not a milestone.
It was a message.
[System Advisory: Environmental Alignment Detected]Planetary Status: Passive Detection – Incoming Presence (Unknown Origin)Estimated Arrival: Unknown – Force Resonance ActiveAdvisory: Prepare Interface and Reception ProtocolsNote: Not All Will Arrive With Peaceful Intent
Adam exhaled.
For months, they had built. Prepared. Watched the city rise from forest and stone into something radiant.
But now the galaxy was watching back.
He turned and strode toward the lift, pulling up his link to Tywin, Dooku, and Mara simultaneously.
In the command chamber, Tywin Lannister reviewed updated planetary scans with a calculating eye.
"They're not visible yet," he murmured. "No ships. No signals. And yet... the atmosphere feels like it's waiting."
He looked to the projection beside him—an ambient readout of planetary resonance. Normally a smooth graph of pale lines. Today it spiked erratically, undetectable to the untrained eye, but clear as a war drum to him.
He didn't speak in metaphors often.
But this?
This was the moment before the guests arrived at a castle too still for comfort.
He began issuing quiet orders.
Dooku stood in one of the inner garden sanctuaries near the Vault, hands clasped as he watched a vine-wrapped obelisk shimmer. The Force twisted around it, like fog pulling back before a storm.
He could feel it.
There was nothing dark about the sensation—but it was powerful. Drawn. A convergence of intent from distant minds. He'd felt this once before—long ago—when many Force-sensitives unknowingly moved toward the same truth.
The Jedi would feel it.
So would the Sith.
His lips curled in faint amusement. "The Force has grown restless."
Elsewhere in Elysiar, those tied to the system also felt it.
Serin, walking a patrol route near the outer perimeter, froze mid-step as the air shifted. Not danger… change.
The Spartan fireteam paused their drills, each of them glancing toward the sky, as if some internal alert had flared. Not technical. Instinctive.
And deep within the city, summoned citizens with even the faintest Force sensitivity looked up from their work. Heads turned. Breaths caught.
Something ancient stirred beneath the surface of the world.
Adam reconvened with Mara in the Spire's strategic council room. Holograms surrounded them, showing the vaults, ship traffic, agricultural sectors, and the active defensive shield grid.
"We don't know when they'll arrive," he said quietly. "Or how."
"But we do know why," Mara replied. "The Force is calling to them. And the planet… it's welcoming them."
He nodded. "Not all of them will be friends."
"No," she agreed. "But we have something they don't."
Adam looked at her questioningly.
"Clarity," she said. "And a home worth defending."