A highly militarized people who specialize in training operators who can bend reality for as long as their body can survive it. They seek to extend reality to the surreal and unknown, at any cost, with few moral concerns to stop them.
Those who can operate are called talented. Those who can’t are called soldiers, or soon-to-be soldiers, also known as the conventional workforce.
Ixis
The Grevan capitol. It occupies the fastest Isle in the Grevan continent.
If I can’t achieve immortality, everyone will just have to die before me –King Grevan
The Isles of Ixis
A network of spatially connected zones that have different speeds of time. They surround the capitol Ixis, making it next to impossible to assault.
The stars are impossibly bright, a blend between the lake at the bottom of the hill, and a perspective beyond an open airlock. It’s the hazy version of something so much brighter, and totally unbreathable.
Isles, so-called sections of space with varying speeds of time, are constantly changing their boundaries: sometimes to outer space. They surround the Grevan capitol, Ixis, making it nearly impossible to assault.
I aim my laser at a tree near me, but it doesn’t appear. The tree must be long gone, ages passed in seconds with respect to my own position. Like the light of a long-gone star.
No one has has ever survived crossing a zone line, or at least, returned to prove it.
Raptor smirks.