Outside the Dome
Far above the Earth, where no telescope could reach and no satellite dared to scan, a city floated quietly behind layers of reality invisible to mankind. It wasn't held aloft by engines or wings or any known force of science. It simply was—hovering silently among the stars like a secret that the universe refused to share.
The city shimmered with impossible geometry. Crystal towers rose like frozen music, etched with glowing glyphs that pulsed gently in rhythm. Bridges spiraled through the air without supports, connecting buildings that defied gravity. It was not a place built by human hands. This was something older. Wiser.
Inside one of the tallest spires—its shape like an inverted teardrop suspended over a glowing abyss—four figures stood around a rectangular prism suspended in midair. The prism cast a hovering 3D projection of Earth, spinning slowly as if unsure where to stop. Cities pulsed like circuitry. Forests shimmered with hidden life. Red blotches blinked across the surface like wounds—chaotic disturbances, energy spikes, places where the world was unraveling.
"They are a bunch of fools. I told you we shouldn't have bothered with this plan," Copper grumbled, lounging lazily on an imaginary recliner that floated a few inches off the polished floor. His tone dripped with disdain as he watched chaos unfold across the globe.
A silver-haired woman turned to him, her voice sharp. "They are also your people. Our people. Don't forget that, Copper."
The man standing between them, tall and broad-shouldered, nodded solemnly. "Silver is right. They're our responsibility now, whether we like it or not."
The fourth figure, Coal, seated across from Steel, looked up with pleading eyes. "We all know that, Steel. But do we really have to do it this way? Look at us. Each of us has enough power to conquer that godforsaken world. Why are we hiding up here? One of us could go down, clean up the mess, eliminate all those evil bastards, and give the people a real choice—fight or flight."
Silver scoffed. "You think the Guardians would let us do such a thing, Coal? Our proposal was rejected by the Council. It was only the Tribunal's intervention that allowed us to continue."
Coal exhaled, shoulders slumping. "Then what? We wait? Hope for the best?"
"Let them be," Copper said, standing now, arms crossed. "Some of them will survive. The rest? They were never meant to. We're only delaying the inevitable."
Steel moved toward him, his voice like a blade through ice. "So you're suggesting we let billions of people die without even giving them a chance to defend themselves?"
Copper backed off slightly, his gaze falling. "They let us down before, Cap. They'll let us down again."
Silver exhaled deeply. "Enough. Let's all sit down and discuss this calmly and objectively."
Coal leaned forward, eyes gleaming with the hint of an idea. "I have a suggestion. We survived the energy surge because of the Guardians' aura shielding us. For decades after that, they guided us, trained us, and helped us master the cosmic energy we absorbed. Why don't we do the same for the people of our world?"
Silver raised an eyebrow. "Are you saying we bring them here?"
Steel's voice was a low rumble. "You know we can't. Taking ten people a year already pushes the limits of the Council's tolerance. If it weren't for Lady Samarah, the quota would still be one person per year."
Copper smirked. "And don't forget their qualifications for kidnapping that one person: homeless, uneducated, and near death."
Silver nodded grimly. "It's their way of keeping the event off the radar. No missing persons case, no questions."
Copper snorted. "Come on, Silvy. The U.S. alone has thousands of missing people every year. It's not the curiosity they fear. It's overpopulation in this city they're trying to avoid."
Coal grinned. "And yet, for the past thirty years, we changed the rules. Took in thirty people total. Not dying vagabonds, but healthy, smart, gifted individuals."
Steel added, "And orphaned children. We raised them. Trained them. Not just in power, but in discipline, honor, and respect for life."
Coal stood, excitement sparking in his voice. "Exactly! Why can't we do that now for the chosen ones we just activated? We spent twenty years crafting those sentient companions. Watching them die on impact was like losing our own children. Over a thousand wiped out just like that. Two thousand more lost because their hosts weren't ready."
Silver looked uncertain. "You think the Guardians will allow the remaining three thousand to cross into this city?"
Steel frowned. "Let's not forget, the only reason we're even here is because we were outside the Dome when it happened. And even then, the Council nearly cast us into the frozen Arctic waters. If it hadn't been for the Prince—"
Silver's eyes widened. "Wait... We can train them. Not here, but there."
Copper raised a brow. "How? They can't access full mana potential inside the Dome. At best, they reach intermediate-level skills and enhance their bodies a bit. They can't touch even a tenth of our current power."
Steel's voice grew excited. "Not inside the Dome. But what if we create a separate dimension? A pocket world that connects from within the Dome but exists outside it?"
Copper's eyes lit up. "A dungeon? Like in those games Coal designs for fun?"
Coal practically jumped. "YES! Brilliant! A dimensional space tailored to test and train them. Full elemental exposure, no restrictions. This could work! I'll get started."
Silver tried to rein him in. "Coal, wait. We need the Council's approval first."
He waved her off, already sketching glowing runes into the air with his fingertips. "You get the paperwork sorted. I'll do the fun part."
A swirling blue portal blossomed behind him, lighting up the chamber like a second sun.
With one last grin, Coal disappeared into the portal.
Steel turned to the others, a rare smile tugging at his lips. "Well, he's fired up. Let's prepare the proposal and meet with the Tribunal."
They moved to the translucent planning table, runes lighting up beneath their hands as they began drafting the proposal—layers of magical logic and political maneuvering intertwining into a single pitch.
And so, the four survivors of the covert mission from 1969—once ordinary, now immortal—set their plan in motion.
The world below was changing, waking up from centuries of stagnation. And above, in a city the world would never see, four unsung heroes prepared to give humanity one final chance to rise—or fall.