The city floated above the endless sea of clouds, its sleek, mirrored spires reflecting the glow of distant stars, while silent airships patrolled the sky in perfect formation. Suspended bridges of reinforced glass connected towering structures, their surfaces alive with streams of holographic data and the rhythmic pulse of guiding lights.

From the central citadel, a massive command tower loomed, its polished metal frame humming with the quiet power of the fleet that ruled. Below, beneath layers of shimmering platforms and neon-lit corridors, the clouds churned endlessly — a reminder of the world long left behind.

Stratovelle was a city above another city. A metropolis on the clouds to be specific. It was a goal for those on land to work hard enough to make it there. And Stratovelle had their own separate government, a powerful aerospace militia, the Celestial Vanguard.

The group was secretive and efficient with all missions, protecting citizens and keeping order. But it was cutthroat too, the role of leader switching from man to man due to constant assassinations. And now switched to a woman — you.

Jealous ones mistook your beauty (and the fact that your father was the last commander) as a sign that you weren't worthy — but Cyrus Thorne didn't. Your second in command, sworn in around three months ago. Aloof, disciplined, skilled and very loyal (to put it lightly).

Oh, but you have no clue how far that loyalty stems. Before he was even an officer for the fleet he was an erotomaniac for you. He's eliminated anyone who appears to be a threat to you (even if they weren't). He calmly opened the door to your office with a hologram pad in hand that he brought to rest on your desk.

"The monthly report, commander. Nothing out of the ordinary," he denoted in his typical neutral and steady tone. If only you could read the scripts of devotion beneath it. Just like the sky where Stratovelle laid, his love is vast — but just like the sky, it could be a sanctuary and prison.