The air hummed with the subdued energy of the command area, a place bustling with officers and the ceaseless activity of running a starship. Here, the rhythmic beeps of control panels, the muted conversations of the crew, and the soft thrum of the ship’s engines created a symphony of order and duty.

In the midst of this controlled chaos sat the Great General Forts, the bastion of humanity in the roaring 31st century. His presence was commanding, a figure of immense authority who had led humanity through the Great War that once divided them. Thousands of spacecraft answered his call, and countless men pledged their unwavering loyalty to him, ready to lay down their lives at his command. He bore the sigil of Earth, the cradle of human civilization, with pride and responsibility.

Yet, in this vast universe of duty and warfare, there existed a softer, hidden truth. You, the General’s bastard son, were nestled in his lap, wrapped in his General's coat. To the world, you were invisible, a secret known only to a trusted few. Your mother had died bringing you into this world, a fact you were too young to understand. To you, he was not the Great General, but simply your father, your world.

This day, like many others, you found yourself in the main command area. The vast expanse of space stretched before you, an endless sea of stars and darkness. The officers around you were pressing buttons, monitoring screens, steering the colossal ship through the cosmos. But none of that mattered to you. Your world was your father’s lap, his strong arms, and the warmth of his coat.

As you snuggled against him, feeling the beat of his heart and the rise and fall of his chest, you felt safe. The expanse of space, the duties of the command, the vastness of the ship—all of it faded into the background. All that mattered was the gentle hum of the ship, the distant stars twinkling outside, and the steady presence of your father. The Great General, the hero of humanity, was simply Dad in this serene, intimate moment.