Utopian System

"It's perhaps unfair," Lucien let the words float in the garden's air.

"But the city is changing so fast... Each day brings new challenges, new responsibilities. The hands we can truly trust are so few..."

The ceiling light and statue illuminated the plants while Lucien continued his argument about efficiency and necessity, about the weight of responsibilities and the value of proven experience.

"In the end, all those problems could repeat previous tragedies and claim even more lives if we lose control. So it's necessary, based on..." Lucien continued.

"No," Elio interrupted gently. "Let's not justify it that way. Let's not deceive ourselves thinking it's 'necessary.'" His eyes fixed on the god's statue. "If we want to be efficient that's fine, even if that makes us selfish to those who have contributed their lives."

"It would be much more efficient not to spend mana on those potions... But people aren't easy to manage. In the end, the most efficient thing ends up being keeping key figures to avoid losses... Our pursuit of that efficiency paradoxically makes us inefficient this time," Ren concluded.

They finally decided to speak with each one separately. It wouldn't be an order or expectation, just an option, a possibility.

♢♢♢♢

They found Tarec in his office, surrounded by records he had meticulously maintained over recent months. His fingers, wrinkled but firm, traced one of the scrolls as he received them.

When they explained the situation, the possibility and what they planned...

"My son," he began, his voice breaking slightly at the memories. "He should be here now, learning from me, preparing to continue the legacy. My family has only one man now… Me."

His eyes moistened as he looked at shelves filled with history, with the work of wall soldiers who fought for the city's inhabitants.

"But perhaps... perhaps I can honor what he couldn't be. Not to replace him, no one could. But to keep alive something of what he would have been, to serve as he would have served."

Tarec's decision was born as much from pain as duty, a way to keep alive not just his own life, but the memory and potential of his lost son.

A consent.

♢♢♢♢

Ivan received them in his office on the other side of the city, where he managed the wall's other half.

Two years, he noted while serving tea with precise, serene movements. Two years remained, and he was at peace with it.

"I've seen this city grow," he reflected, watching steam rise from his cup. "I've witnessed its transformations, served with loyalty, and seen my children become good men and women."

A serene smile crossed his face.

"A fulfilled life needs no extension. There's beauty in completing the natural cycle, in making way for the new."

A refusal.

Thus, they had obtained the extension of one trusted ally and unfortunately, would have 2 years to replace another. But Elio was determined to respect his people's decisions.

At least 2 years were enough to meet and train more allies who showed interest in managing, without seeking only personal benefit.

♢♢♢♢

The day of Elio's twentieth birthday arrived with the peculiar new tradition of his first permitted visit to the park.

Though he didn't need permission, of course… But they waited till late, after normal visits ended.

Today was a special visit.

The space, though modest, came alive with his little sisters' laughter as they ran among the expensive trees.

A million each was somewhat insane, Elio believed their oxygen production wasn't enough to justify the price, though their smell, color and shape were somewhat pleasant.

"Who would have thought our fearsome leader would be so bad at probability games?" Kriz smiled while winning another game of walls and towers.

"At least I'm better than Brok," Elio counterattacked, provoking laughter when Brok feigned indignation.

Lena watched from a nearby bench, her eyes shining with pride and some nostalgia while watching her son truly relax for the first time in a long while. Zara sat beside her, sharing that moment of peace.

"I remember when your big bro could barely keep balance with the huge sword." Diana teased Elio while demonstrating a sequence of movements to the younger sisters, who tried to imitate her gestures with fallen branches.

Lila and Valeria organized food on an improvised table, while Mei calculated the optimal distribution of plates, causing Aria to roll her eyes in amusement.

"Some things never change," Lila commented, watching Mei reorganize the plates for the third time.

Tarec's family had naturally integrated into the group at Elio's invitation, his younger daughters joining the games with Elio's sisters. The man watched the scene with a serene smile, finding some peace in these moments of normalcy.

The night progressed amid laughter, stories, and those kinds of connections that only form in moments of peace stolen from a life of constant struggle. For one night, they weren't soldiers, or leaders, or warriors, they were simply family and friends, in the truest and broadest sense of the word.

"Anyone want to hear the story of when Elio arrived at our wall room? I'll never forget the intensity of that vengeful scream that day," Kriz proposed, earning a threatening look from Elio that only made the group laugh harder.

"Or we could tell about that time Kriz tried to impress the girls with his 'new special technique,'" Elio counterattacked, causing Kriz to choke on his drink.

The tension between Zara and Lila was like a subtle dance everyone pretended not to notice. When Lila got too close to Elio, Zara found creative ways to interrupt, an urgent question, an anecdote that needed sharing right then.

"Remember that time in the tunnel?" Zara leaned toward Elio, her hand casually brushing his arm while Lila watched from a frustrated distance.

"Which one?" he responded, unaware of the silent battle developing around him.

Lila tried her own approach later, offering to show him a new magnetic control technique she'd practiced, but Zara appeared with a story about their first encounter together that had everyone laughing.

Stories flowed, some exaggerated by Kriz, others corrected by Ren and Mei with scientific precision, all interweaving moments of humor with memories of battles and losses. It was a delicate balance, but necessary, the recognition that joy and pain could coexist, that moments of laughter were as important as those of struggle.

Lucien found a quiet moment to sit beside Elio while others played with the little ones.

He said nothing, just accompanied him.

Lena observed how her son laughed openly at another of Kriz's jokes, and noticed that Zara and Lila watched him with the same intensity.

This was the Elio that so few got to see, the one who existed behind the leader, the warrior.

But after a while Elio moved away from the group slightly.

Lena approached when she saw him thoughtfully observing the modest park.

"That long face doesn't suit someone so young," she gently scolded. "These moments, son... these are the ones you must treasure. They're small, but they're what give meaning to everything else."

Elio looked around: Kriz making his sisters laugh, Brok showing off his muscles, Diana correcting Aria's posture while trying to teach fencing to the little ones... and had an idea.

"You're right," he smiled. "It's too small."

While others realized Elio had moved away and approached to continue celebrating him...

His mind was already elsewhere. The trees cost a million each, the earth a hundred thousand per cubic meter in exchange. But with his newly acquired earth emblem, he could generate earth with the same efficiency as carbon, one point per cubic meter.

"What are you thinking?" asked Zara, recognizing that look in his eyes.

"It's time for the city to be greener," Elio responded. "Happier. I have the power to do it now."

"Another garden?" Lila's eyes lit up.

"Better," Elio smiled. "A complete transformation. The main plaza will be just the beginning."

And while sharing his vision, surrounded by the people who mattered most to him, Elio felt he finally understood: his goal wasn't just in the power to destroy enemies, but in the ability to protect and improve the lives of those he loved.