Vraxi wasn't planning on meeting with her seismologist that day, but the frequency of the quakes rattling her city had increased to the point where it wore on her focus. Working an extra stop into her busy schedule would be difficult, but circumstances necessitated it.

The walk back to Zetomerxy's citadel was calm and rather uneventful. The queen's attendants marched double file behind her, and King Fortress had bent the light around himself once again, keeping a discreet eye on Vraxi from high above on nearby buildings' exteriors. Although many genofexians had emerged from their homes to begin their daily activities, the queen's mourning robes left an aura of silence around her.

However, it was a welcome break. The peace allowed her to collect her thoughts and begin mentally drafting a speech for later that day. She would've loved to carefully craft a long, eloquent announcement several days in advance, but the intensifying tremors combined with the deathly rot outside the city's walls had stripped her of the luxury of time.

As Vraxi approached the front door of the enormous, pale structure, two royal guards greeted her with a simple, “welcome home, Mother.” Adorned with fanciful patterns similar to her royal white and gold wardrobe, the door automatically folded in on itself to allow the queen entrance.

The extravagantly decorated interior of the citadel – violet and white with tapestries and flora lining every passage – was always a comfortable, welcoming sight. Standing in the main lobby with a four-way junction separating various sections of the citadel, Vraxi turned to the two dozen attendants behind her.

“You four in front will come with me. The rest of you, return to your scheduled tasks,” she ordered.

“Understood,” they responded in a perfect chorus. The 20 rearmost attendants then marched off to various sections of the citadel.

The attendants taking care of the simpler tasks around the citadel always eased the burden Vraxi bore. Simple chores like switching the guard, compiling citizen information, or even simply drawing the queen a bath could be done by anyone. But, for her attendants, it was a high privilege to work so closely with their Mother.

Facing forward again, Vraxi walked down the rightmost corridor of the lobby's intersection, towards the royal seismologist's lab. He was the first in his role; never before had the Dynix family needed someone of his expertise, but the planet's convulsions were abnormal enough to frighten Vraxi. And, soon after appointing him, he confirmed her suspicions that the recurring quakes were anything but natural.

She'd insisted he move his office into her citadel so she could get updates at a moment's notice, thus his workplace had been tucked away close to the building's main entrance. After a few paces forward and a left turn, Vraxi signaled her attendants to wait outside before brushing past the curtains separating the laboratory from the hallway.

Three well-dressed genofexians stood before her in the relatively small, round room. The edges of the lab housed a plethora of electronics, computers, and devices, while the middle of the room boasted a large table with a screen built into its surface, projecting a pale blue image in the air above it.

Zexterze – the tall, scruffy-haired, dark aqua genofex clad in fanciful, loose-fitting white garments – was the royal seismologist standing at the opposite end of the table.

“Welcome, Mother,” a deep voice spoke from the ruxvy hanging around his neck. “Here regarding the latest tremor?”

“Yes.”

Zexterze leaned against the table, using touch controls to scroll through the tabletop screen. “Well. No fault lines nearby, no notable seismic activity in the nearby region... except here.”

Vraxi leaned closer. Zexterze pointed to a map on the screen's surface, specifically, a region several kilometres due north of Zetomerxy where a prosperous mining city once stood.

“Our sensor drones spotted an enormous cave about 125 metres underground in this area,” he explained, circling the area with his finger. “The main section inside it is wide open and hollow, to the point where I'm surprised the surface hasn't collapsed in on it yet.”

“Is it linked to the recurring quakes?” the queen asked.

“Given that there's no other explanation for why the ground keeps shaking, that's what I thought. So I looked closer. We sent tread drones to take video captures of the cave, and, along with several veins of that light blue ore, this is what we saw at the bottom.” Zexterze pressed some more buttons on the surface of the table's screen, displaying an... image.

Vraxi narrowed her eyes, unsure of what she was looking at. The cave itself looked normal enough, if rather magnificent in its size and the number of shimmering ore nodes. However, at the bottom was something large she couldn't understand – pale, massive, fluid – awakening a nameless fear inside the genofexian leader.

“Zexterze... what is that?” she asked.

He raised his palms by his sides. “By Ytti's graces, I have no idea. But it's the only lead we haven't fully explored in regards to why our beloved planet is trying to shake us off.”

Vraxi stared at it, trying to make sense of the huge thing. Despite being the most powerful genofexian still alive, the sensation of insignificance permeated her mind when she looked at it. She struggled to take her gaze off it... until a hand brushed one of her shoulders, startling her back to reality.

She turned to see who it was. A familiar, reassuring face greeted her – Daxtra Dynix, a bald, black-plated genofex dressed in gold and white robes, mirroring the queen's typical royal attire. Along with King Fortress, Daxtra was another sub-ruler of the third genofexian sex – a tezdzet .

“Daxtra! Your timing is impeccable as always,” Vraxi sang, audibly relieved by the distraction.

“I suspected I might find you here,” Daxtra said, speaking with their own choker-shaped ruxvy.

“Welcome, Daxtra,” Zexterze greeted them. “Shall I update you on the latest developments?”

“...Yes, please do,” Daxtra replied, trying to parse the picture on the table.

Zexterze gave them a recap of what he'd just told the queen, ending with the picture that had troubled Vraxi so. Daxtra stared at it with a hand cupping their chin, tilting their head every few moments.

“We don't know what it is yet,” Zexterze explained again. “But I hope to have more information for you soon. Tread drones are active in the cave as we speak.”

“So we don't yet know how to stop these quakes?” Vraxi asked.

“At the moment, no.”

“Expedite this operation to the best of your ability. I cannot stress enough how important your mission is.”

“I understand, Mother.”

“Thank you for your work. I will be in contact,” the queen finished. She then exited the same way she came in with Daxtra by her side, meeting up with her four remaining attendants.

The abundance of pale ore in the cave would normally be a great discovery, given its efficient practical uses in ship construction. But with Ytti's current state, attempting to harvest any of it would be an irresponsible risk, especially with that entity resting at the bottom of the cave.

“I worry about that thing,” Vraxi confided.

“In the picture Zexterze showed us?”

“Yes.”

Daxtra held her two left hands. “Let's wait and see what he has to say after further research. With how much there is to do, you should focus on what you can control.”

From anyone else, such presumptuous words would have prompted disdain from the queen, but her intimate bond with Daxtra gave the tezdzet far more leniency. Vraxi considered explaining herself but lacked the words to describe how she felt about that ominous image.

“I'm announcing the exodus today,” she said instead, responding to Daxtra's advice. “I met with one of the Grand Devotion's overseers, as planned. Progress is satisfactory. He informed me that the ship could now launch in its current state.”

“Very well. How long will you be giving your people?”

It was a question with no correct answer, no matter how long she'd pondered it. Too soon risked traumatizing an uneasy population, and too late risked complete annihilation. If it were up to her, she'd leave that day, but convincing millions of citizens to do the same was an impossible request. The answer she'd settled on wasn't ideal, but it was the best compromise she could come up with.

“Two seasons,” Vraxi stated.

Daxtra looked surprised. “Not even a full year.”

“My people are scared, stressed, and grieving. I know it's going to be hard, but I would rather this than have some ugly aliens find the remains of our species long after we've gone extinct because I couldn't make a difficult decision.”

A short silence filled the air.

“Apologies,” Daxtra muttered.

Only then did Vraxi realize her face had gone rigid. She relaxed her body, making gentle eye contact with her partner.

“No need,” she reassured them. “Perhaps my people aren't the only ones stressed.”