Space Port

Elijah wasn't sure what happened after that.

One moment, his mother was there.

The next?

Gone.

And nobody told babies anything.

Lame.

Elena had been cranky ever since. Fussy, restless, and difficult in that special way only babies could be—crying at random, waking up at odd hours, making life harder for everyone around her.

And okay, fine—she was a baby. But still.

She was cranky because Mom wasn't around.

That was it.

Honestly? He was pissed too.

Damn psychology.

His baby body wanted his mother—some deep, primal nonsense he had zero control over.

But throwing a tantrum about it?

Not his style.

It wasn't Abel's fault, so Elijah played along. Played the role of a reasonable baby—quiet, observant, keeping his own frustrations locked away.

But even he could tell something was brewing.

Abel was planning something.

Something big.

Elijah didn't know what yet, but the signs were there—the subtle tension in Abel's shoulders, the quiet conversations behind closed doors, the way his eyes lingered on maps and reports longer than usual.

Then, one day, his grandfather showed up.

Unannounced.

Elijah's gaze snapped to him.

And then?

The old man tried to hold him.

Elijah screamed.

Loud. Piercing.

A full-blown baby meltdown.

Cried until his face turned red, tiny fists clenching at nothing, body twisting in protest.

Like hell he was letting this bastard touch him.

Screw you, Grandpa.

You suggested that damn dinner.

And the worst part?

Abel let it happen.

Didn't interfere.

Didn't try to soothe him.

Just stood there.

Elijah didn't know why, didn't care why.

All that mattered was that his grandfather could rot for all he cared.

Esther, though?

She still let the old man hold her.

Still cooed at him, soft and sweet, in the way only a baby could.

But only because she didn't know any better.

She was too young to hate properly.

Elijah wasn't sure how much time passed after that.

A month? Maybe more?

Then, one night—deep in the dead of night—his grandfather came again.

Something was different this time.

His stance. His posture.

He wasn't here for a visit.

Elijah tensed, his tiny body coiling with unease.

Where was Abel?

For a brief second, he considered crying—testing the waters, seeing how his grandfather would react—but something in the air made him hesitate.

The tension was palpable.

Like the air before a storm.

Then, finally—Abel appeared.

His steps were brisk, purposeful, eyes sharp.

"Is it ready?"

The words were clipped. Urgent.

His grandfather nodded.

No hesitation. No words wasted.

And that?

That was when Elijah knew.

This was it.

They boarded a small flying shuttle—sleek, silent, barely making a sound as it lifted into the sky.

Elijah pressed his tiny hands against the viewport, watching the ground shrink beneath them.

Smooth. Fast.

Better than any vehicle he had ever been in.

So much better.

They traveled for ten minutes, and when they landed?

Elijah's breath hitched.

They had arrived at a spaceport.

And towering before them—massive, overwhelming, reaching into the heavens—

A space elevator.

Whoa.

Elijah blinked, momentarily stunned.

He had seen drawings, sketches, even mentions of them in old-world research.

But seeing one in real life?

Even his adult mind struggled to process it.

Meanwhile, Esther?

Fast asleep.

She was missing all of this.

"You're gonna regret this," Elijah thought, eyeing his oblivious sister.

But then again…

She wouldn't remember it anyway.

Late hour or not, he was wide awake now.

Not just because of where they were.

But because of what it meant.

This changed everything.

The spaceport glowed—strips of neon blue and gold pulsing in rhythmic intervals, guiding traffic, illuminating pathways. The platforms stretched out in every direction, massive landing pads blending steel with mana-infused materials, humming with energy.

And the elevator?

It wasn't just steel and cables.

It had a core.

A heart.

Mana pulsed through its structure, alive, its glow faint but unmistakable.

This was not just a machine.

It was technology fused with mana, operating in perfect harmony.

And that?

That made it something special.

Elijah's mind raced.

Space elevators were real.

Functional. Working. Right here.

The races from other worlds had mentioned such things, but in his past life?

Earth's mana had been constrained by the Membrane.

They had never reached this level of advancement.

Which meant…

How long had it been since his death?

Elijah squinted, scanning the horizon.

No ships in sight.

Which meant…

They were all stationed in the lower atmosphere.

Smart. Efficient. Tactical.

There was an entire world beyond the sky—one he had never touched in his last life.

And for the first time in a long time…

Elijah felt it.

A pulse of genuine excitement.