Every morning, she rises with the dawn, leaving her small apartment with her daughter in tow. Life in Proxima is good, especially when compared to the horrors they left behind on Atuj'R. The constant threat of attack, the scarcity of resources, and the feeling of never truly being safe had driven them to make the perilous journey to this new planet.
The construction site is her workplace, and it's a place of transformation. Tall, resilient buildings rise from the dust, and she's part of the team that ensures they stand strong. It's hard work, but it's honest work, and it provides a sense of security they never had before.
In Proxima, people do not say "good morning" to one another; instead, they say "good job." It's a reminder that every day is a day of labor, a day of progress, and a day worth celebrating.
It's a simple phrase, but it carries with it the hopes and dreams of a people who know the value of hard work and unity.
Evenings are spent at home, where she and her daughter find comfort in the simple pleasures of life. They cook together, share stories, and tonight, they watch the ongoing battle in space on the viewscreen.
As they huddle together in the safety of their home, watching the stars in the vast expanse of space, she can't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the new life they've found in Proxima. It may not be perfect, but it's a place of opportunity, of community, and of dreams.
In the heart of Proxima, battles felt different. They felt safe. It was a stark contrast to their life on Atuj'R, where they had been left to fend for themselves when wars broke out. Here in their new home, a sense of protection enveloped them, a safety that extended like a guardian's embrace.
The entire city was concealed beneath a colossal energy shield, a remarkable feat of engineering that arched over the skyline. The massive, transparent domes covered the bustling streets, the homes, the schools, and the workplaces, offering a sense of security that had been a distant dream in their war-torn past.
The Queen, it seemed, was particularly protective of her people. It wasn't just a facade; it was a tangible commitment to ensuring the safety of every citizen. The shield was a testament to her unwavering dedication to their well-being.
In the glow of the dome's radiance, battles played out on screens, both real and holographic, safe from the devastation that could lurk beyond the protective barrier. People gathered to watch the ongoing space battle on giant viewscreens, their anxiety tempered by the knowledge that they were sheltered beneath the shield.
The mother held her daughter close, watching the chaos unfold in the vast expanse of space.
As the battles raged on the screens, the people of Proxima were protected. It was a life unimaginable in their past, a life that was slowly but surely becoming their present.