Chapter Text
At the heart of every planet, there harbored a consciousness.
For Earth, it was Gaia. Enraged at the greedy simians that had marred her surface, she destroyed herself, choosing her own death over said species’ abhorrent existence.
Alas, two million of their dwindling number managed to escape. Only the rich and privileged, of course, the rest had no choice but to die on the soil that had birthed them. Like a particle of dust carrying viruses, the Artificial Satellite made ways to a similar planet in a nearby corner of the universe.
Unlike Earth’s Gaia, Futurum’s heart had yet to choose a name. She was quite young, barely three billion years old. Faced with the threat of invasion, it was all she could do to impart her power to a chosen few, hoping those heroes would be able to defend her. Hemoanima was her lifeblood, the living force of the planet itself. All life she carried was her children, but those who could wield it was closer to her than most.
Hence, she had a soft spot for her youngest son. The most powerful of them all. Her final, desperate attempt to banish that giant spaceship disturbing her oceans. At three days old, he was taken, brought to a place too far for her flames to reach. His mortal parents never got the chance to name him, his baby toys clutched in their bloody grips as they were shot down. Just like her, he was an unknown, both to himself and to others.
Imagine her surprise, when she welcomed his consciousness back into her embrace. He called himself Shion now, a beautiful name, he even brought along a family. Friends, he called them, though they were all born from his blood. His children, the way Shion and the Commanders were her children. They were quite the rowdy bunch. While it was V’ehxness that had eliminated the humans, it was Shion’s brood that had stopped the bomb meant to wipe out all life on Futurum. She owed them her continued existence, her future, her happiness. It was only fair that she granted them their wish as well.
And so, a few generations later, they came into the world again. Not all their wishes could be fulfilled, particularly those shouted by that Maruko boy about Earth concepts that she did not understand. The one thing she tried to get right, however, was their deepest, most heartfelt shared wish. They wanted to be close together, always. They wanted to remain friends, and if possible, family.
***
Their rebirth caused quite a stir. A dozen Chosen children born in the same year, spaced mostly one month apart, all manifesting cryptoglobin powers from the moment they hatched. Those twins born in the Sixth month were in the same egg and came out holding hands. Some said it was a blessing, a sign that their planet had fully recovered. Others warned that it could mean the planet gearing up for another invasion. As time passed, those latter cries died down. The sky remained peaceful, like it had been for billions of years before humans blocked it from sight, and shall be forever more after their extinction.
The elders decided it would be easier to educate all these future Commanders by raising them together. As their powers were discovered, their families would be invited to move into a shared compound, so their children could play in the same field and attend the same class. A boy twelve years older was assigned as their chaperone. An acolyte with gentle demeanor, he seemed taken with the Chosen children immediately, and they him. It was hard to separate them, after one had seen all of them together. Their contentment was one that could only be arranged by the hands of fate.
***
Their memory was their secret.
To everyone else, they had lived Futuran lives, with Futuran names. Inside the compound, when it was just sixteen of them together, they broke out the names they’d gotten so used to calling each other during those one hundred days, for old time’s sake.
“Aotsuki, ya bastard! What d’ya just say?!”
“Darumi can’t get used to having loving parents, it’s unnerving…”
“Turns out my sister’s superior palate has always been bona-fide Futuran!”
“…I’m sure even Futurans will die if they eat that…”
Yes, this was how it should be.
***
There were pictures on the wall of Shion taking care of them when they were small. One was him rubbing Takumi’s back, after the boy had barfed all over his shoulder. Another had Tsubasa, Gaku and Kyoshika climbing up and down his legs. There was Hiruko wrestling with Kurara to stop her from gnawing on a shoe. Darumi once set Eito’s pants on fire. One time Moko put Shouma on her shoulders to pick fruits, then forgot him on the branch and Yugamu had to shake him down.
Could their childhood have been more carefree, had they not carried inside them the horrors of war? Absolutely, but this was something they had decided together, when the planet had offered them a choice. They did not want to forget who they were, or how they’d come to love each other. What they had been through, what they had lost, made the joys of their presence all the sweeter. They had been offered a second chance, which required experience to appreciate every moment of it.
***
And so, the memory of Karua overlaid with Shion’s lullaby.
And so, Yugamu brushed a leaf from Takumi’s hair, thinking “All I ever wanted was to swim in your ocean.”
And so, Eito closed his eyes, to recreate the darkness of his first, and still only, love.
And so, Hiruko sighed, louder, louder, still louder, until Takemaru finally snapped at her.
And so, Ima picked up the book that had fallen by the bedside, smoothed out the pages and put it on the nightstand, before joining his sister in bed.
And so, Darumi cried when her family threw her a surprise birthday party.
And so, Gaku went to all the concerts that he could go, bringing back presents for the kids in their neighborhood.
And so, Shouma got buff walking pets for his teachers.
And so, Kyoshika commission a replica of her Jumonji sword.
And so, Moko challenged the older Commanders to weekly wrestling matches.
And so, Kurara made a killing selling her curry.
And so, Tsubasa fell in love with a delivery boy who helped her set up her repair shop.
Each day, they counted their blessings. Each day, they gathered at the breakfast table, taking strength from having their family here together, happy and whole. They argued a lot. They fought all the time. They made up just as often, knowing that more than genes, more than blood, this was what made them strong. All problems could be solved if you worked together. If you had the courage to face the truth, to take responsibility, you could do anything.
This was a lesson humanity had failed to learn. Their family would never make the same mistake.
End.
(Sike, looks like I’m not done after all. This is now the prologue.)