"If only I had known, that fateful day, 
I would have grasped his hand, 

Pulled him back from the brink, 
Where shadows whispered secrets 
And the world swirled in chaos.
With every heartbeat echoing,
I'd have woven words like a net, 
Casting hope to catch his fall,

Turning sorrow into stillness, 
Transforming despair into dawn. 

But time slipped through my fingers, 
Like grains of sand in the wind, 
And I stood, a silent witness, 
As paths diverged, untraveled, 
And the weight of silence grew. 

If only I had seen, 
The tremor in his voice, 
The flicker of doubt in his eyes, 
I would have crossed oceans of doubt, 
Bridged the charms of unspoken fears. 
Yet, in that moment of hesitation, 
I was a ghost in the machine, 
A fleeting shadow of what could be, 
And now, the echoes linger, 
Haunting the spaces between us. 

If only I knew, 
I would have stopped him that day, 

And rewritten the story, 
To hold the ight that he needed, 
To save a soul lost in the fray."

Cit. Zhemin

[FADE IN]

SOLAR REALM

- IMPERIAL PALACE -

INT. EMPEROR'S PRIVATE CHAMBER

NIGHT

The Solar Realm's imperial palace is a breathtaking blend of celestial elegance. Golden scrolls depicting constellations unfurl across the walls like a star-studded tapestry, shimmering in the soft hues that fill the room. Flames flicker through stained glass windows, casting vibrant patterns on the marble floor that dance with the playful breeze. Yet, despite the beauty surrounding him, WUXIONG feels the weight of an unseen chain binding him to the ground, heavy with frustration and confusion as he stands before his brother, ZHEMIN.

"What do you mean by 'We'll see, it might'? Can't you just speak plainly, like a normal Solar being?" WUXIONG's voice breaks, tension lacing each word.

Memories of laughter shared in carefree days flood his mind—sun-drenched afternoons under the gentle glow of lanterns, where every whispered secret wove them closer together. Now, those memories feel tainted by the bitter rift that has opened between them.

"I'm not forcing you to understand me, Wuxiong," ZHEMIN replies, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to the storm brewing in WUXIONG's heart. "You're my brother; I only want what's best for you."

"It feels like the opposite!" WUXIONG snaps, his breath hitching. The warmth of shared adventures twists into a sense of solitude, echoing painfully in his chest.

"You're always a riddle wrapped in a mystery! I can't keep guessing what you're thinking." His frustration hangs heavy in the air, a palpable tension that threatens to shatter their bond.

"Then go. Find a better place for your endless questions," ZHEMIN retorts, his patience wearing thin, like the fragile thread of their connection unraveling before him.

WUXIONG's heart races, anger and fear churning within him, twisting like storm clouds gathering on the horizon.

"And here I am! The Master warned us, and you—ugh! You don't even seem bothered!" Each word is a dagger, aimed at the stoic facade ZHEMIN wears, seeking to pierce the walls he's built.

"Bro, I get it. That's what you think... Just chill out." ZHEMIN's dismissal feels like ice on a fire, smothering the warmth of their shared past and leaving WUXIONG feeling lost in the cold.

Unable to bear the confrontation any longer, Wuxiong spins on his heel, storming out of the chamber. The echoes of their argument chase him down the gilded corridors, each step resonating with unspoken words and unresolved emotions. 

INT. KITCHEN

LATER

He seeks refuge in the kitchen, a familiar haven amid the turmoil, hoping for a moment's peace—and perhaps a taste of the sweet pastries that once filled their laughter with delight.

As he steps into the kitchen, the comforting aroma of freshly baked bread envelops him, mingling with the delicate scent of jasmine wafting through the open window. It reminds him of simpler times, moments shared in the glow of candlelight, when their biggest worries revolved around trivial matters of childhood. Here, he can let the weight of his heartache soften, if only for a fleeting moment.

But as he stirs a pot, thoughts of ZHEMIN linger like an uninvited guest, refusing to be ignored. WUXIONG longs for the brother who once shared his dreams, the one who understood him without words. In the solitude of the kitchen, he allows a single tear to fall, a whisper of hope that the rift between them can be bridged again.

The kitchen is a sanctuary, filled with the rich aromas of bubbling stews and the comforting scent of pastries that evoke cherished memories. His grandmother stands by the stove, a gentle smile illuminating her face as she stirs a pot, her presence a soothing balm against the storm within his heart.

"Grandma?" WUXIONG calls out, his voice carrying the weight of the argument still echoing in his mind. He brushes off his tear.

"Who would have thought? Did you argue again with His Majesty?" she asks, glancing up, her brow furrowed with concern.

"No. Yes..." he stammers, the truth tangled in a web of emotions. "It's complicated."

"It's okay," she reassures him, her voice warm and nurturing. "Both of you have deep feelings for one another. You care for each other, even if it's hard to see."

Her words wrap around him like a comforting embrace, though they do little to quell the turmoil inside.

"But he never shows me that!" WUXIONG's voice rises, frustration spilling over as memories of silence and unanswered questions swirl in his mind.

"He knows everything about me, yet I barely know him! It's like speaking to a wall!" His heart aches with a mixture of longing and anger.

"Don't be like that." She hands him a warm pastry, its sweet aroma momentarily distracting him from his spiraling thoughts.

"Here. Eat this delicacy from Mars." WUXIONG sighs, glancing down at the treat, but his heart feels heavy.

"Did you know we might not be able to enjoy these anymore?"

"Why? What happened?" Concern creases her brow, a shadow of worry darkening her gentle features.

"Mars' gravity got disrupted by the two planets colliding earlier today."

His voice trembles, the weight of responsibility pressing down on him like an impending storm.

"Did it?" she replies, her frown deepening. "That doesn't sound good."

"If another collision happens, it might spell the end of our realm..." he says, the harsh reality settling in his bones, sending a chill through the air between them.

"And what are you doing here eating? Hurry and check on the poor creatures over there!" Grandma insists, her hands shooing him away, determination shining in her eyes.

"That is Zhemin's job," he protests weakly, the remnants of their earlier argument still fresh in his mind.

"Did you forget who's responsible, as the elected Planetary Guardian, for the Planetary Realm?" she replies, arching an eyebrow that holds a lifetime of wisdom and gentle authority.

"I know, but he—"

"Do you want to enjoy more food and time with your grandma?" she interrupts, a twinkle in her eye that draws a reluctant smile from him.

"I—Yes..." he admits, warmth creeping back into his heart despite the heaviness still weighing on him.

"What a good boy. Now go, I'll be here cooking your favorite dish. Make sure all Mars creatures are safe, okay?" Her encouragement lights a fire within him, igniting a sense of duty and purpose. With renewed determination, WUXIONG races out of the kitchen, the echoes of his argument with ZHEMIN fading behind him as he sets his sights on Mars.

As he navigates the palace halls, his heart beats with a mixture of urgency and longing. He recalls the laughter they once shared, the unbreakable bond of brotherhood that feels stretched yet not entirely severed. Each step brings him closer not only to his responsibility but also to the hope of reconciling with ZHEMIN, a hope that flickers like the candlelight that once illuminated their childhood adventures

PLANETARY REALM

MARTIAN RUINS

EARLY MORNING

The Martian Ruins loom ahead, a haunting testament to devastation. Crumbled structures jut from the ground like broken bones, remnants of a once-thriving civilization, each jagged edge a reminder of loss. The air is thick with dust and despair, each breath tasting of sorrow. Wuxiong feels a chill wrap around him, as if the very essence of the fallen clings to him, the silence pressing down like a heavy weight on his heart.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" WUXIONG calls out, his voice trembling as it cuts through the stillness, only to be swallowed by the emptiness surrounding him. He shivers, feeling the ghosts of the past whispering in the wind, their stories lost yet lingering in the air.

Silence answers, heavy and oppressive, wrapping around him like a shroud woven from the fabric of grief. The vastness of the ruins feels suffocating, each hollow space echoing his desperation.

"None... none got saved..." he murmurs, his heart aching with guilt that gnaws at his insides, sharp and insistent. How can he return to Grandma with this burden? The thought of her gentle smile turning to sorrow fills him with dread.

He closes his eyes, allowing the memories of laughter and warmth shared with his family to flood his mind, a stark contrast to the desolation before him. He can almost hear his grandmother's soothing voice, urging him to find hope even in the darkest moments. 

"What should I tell Grandma now?" he whispers, his voice cracking under the weight of unspoken promises and the ache of lost lives.

As he stands there, a flicker of determination ignites within him. He cannot let despair claim his heart. For the sake of those who fell, he must carry their memory forward. With a deep breath, he resolves to uncover the truth of this devastation, to honor their stories and protect the ones he loves.

In the face of loss, he will seek a glimmer of hope, a way to turn the tide for the future.

THEIA'S COLLISION SITE

MORNING

As WUXIONG approaches Theia's collision site, a shiver runs down his spine, beautiful memories under the stars twisting into shadows of sorrow. The remnants of a once-vibrant planet whisper secrets of loss, the wind howling like a grieving spirit that echoes his own heartache.

"Please, somebody call my name. I'll forgive such insolence; I'll be merciful, but please... call me. Wuxiong is my name." His voice breaks the silence, desperate and alone against the backdrop of devastation, each syllable a plea to the universe for connection, for a spark of life amidst the ruins.

Then, a soft sound—a rock shifts, then another.

WUXIONG's heart quickens, adrenaline coursing through him, igniting a flicker of hope amidst despair.

"Who's there?" he demands, urgency pulling him forward, his pulse racing with anticipation.

A hand emerges from the rubble, trembling and fragile, like a flower struggling to bloom in a storm.

"I'm here," a voice whispers, barely audible, laced with fear. Wuxiong rushes forward, his heart pounding as he kneels beside the debris, the weight of his purpose grounding him.

"Thank goodness. Here, grab my hand," he urges, reaching out with shaking fingers. The warmth of their contact sends a surge of energy through him, igniting a flame of determination.

"I—I can't," the voice trembles, panic threading through her tone, a stark reminder of their vulnerability in this moment.

"Okay, don't panic. I promise, I'll get you out."

He begins digging frantically, clawing through the debris. The sharp edges bite into his skin, but he barely feels the pain; each movement is driven by urgency and an overwhelming sense of responsibility. After what feels like an eternity, he uncovers a girl, her eyes barely open, shadows clinging to her features, exhaustion etched into her delicate face.

"You shouldn't be here," she whispers, her voice a haunting echo, fragile as glass, yet filled with an undeniable strength that pulls at his heart.

"Grandma was right. I'm sorry I'm late, but first, let's treat your wounds," WUXIONG says, determination flooding through him. He hoists her onto his shoulder, her weight a burden and a responsibility he willingly accepts. The warmth of her presence ignites something deep within him, a spark of hope that perhaps, together, they can rise from the ashes of their worlds.

As he carries her away from the ruins, the wind seems to whisper promises of healing, and he can't shake the feeling that this moment might just be the beginning of something greater—something that binds their fates together in ways he has yet to understand.

MARTIAN RUINS

AFTERNOON

"We're almost to the Solar Realm. Can you hold on a bit longer?" he urges, feeling the delicate weight of her body pressing against him. The reality of their perilous situation settles in like a heavy fog, thick and suffocating.

"Wuxiong, you..." Her voice trails off, barely a whisper, and he can sense the fragility of her spirit, like a flower wilting under the harsh sun.

"Yeah, my name is Wuxiong, but when we reach the Imperial Palace, you better call me Your Highness," he teases, attempting to inject a hint of humor into the dire moment. "Or you might find yourself in serious trouble with the elders..."

But before he can finish, her body slumps against him, her warmth fading as she slips into unconsciousness from exhaustion.

"No, no! Resist! We're almost there!" he pleads, desperation clawing at his heart. Each step feels like a battle against despair, the echoes of his brother's indifference haunting him like shadows.

As he navigates the debris, the air thick with dust and sorrow, he can't shake the feeling that their fates are intertwined. He steels himself, determination surging through him. With every heartbeat, he whispers promises to her—a vow to protect her, to find the strength within himself to save them both.

The cool breeze brushes against his face, carrying with it a flicker of hope. 

"Just a little longer," he murmurs, willing her to hear him, to fight alongside him. He can almost feel the threads of their destinies weaving together, binding them in a way that could transcend this moment of darkness.

In this quiet intimacy, beneath the weight of the world, he realizes that this journey isn't just about survival. This connection could heal their broken realms.

SOLAR REALM

IMPERIAL PALACE

WUXIONG'S PRIVATE CHAMBER

NIGHT

Bursting through the door of his private chamber, WUXIONG cradles the girl in his arms, urgency propelling him forward as the coolness of the room envelops them.

"A girl has been found near the collision site on Theia! Help her; it is an order!" His voice rings with authority, yet beneath it lies a tremor of fear—a fear interwoven with a flicker of hope.

Nurses and doctors rush toward him, their expressions shifting from shock to focused determination. Wuxiong paces anxiously, his heart pounding like a war drum as they spring into action. Each tick of the clock reverberates in the charged air, amplifying his growing unease.

"Will she be alright?" he asks, his voice trembling, vulnerability slipping through the cracks of his commanding facade as he hears the medical team assess her fragile form. His hands covers his eyes.

The doctor begins his examination. His voice full of concern.

"If she hadn't lost so much life force, she might have made it..."

WUXIONG's heart plummets, the weight of dread pressing down on him like a leaden shroud.

"Are you telling me she's dead?" he demands, his voice cracking under the strain, a tidal wave of panic rising within him, bringing memories of his own loneliness crashing to the surface.

"Your Highness, please let me finish the diagnosis... She's not lost yet. It will take her a few days to regain her strength and begin to move. For now, the nurses will keep watching over her."

"Why didn't you say that first? You made me worry for nothing!" WUXIONG snaps, frustration bubbling to the surface, a mixture of relief and anger igniting within him.

As the doctor steps away, a flicker of hope ignites in WUXIONG's chest. He has saved her—this girl who has stirred something deep within him, awakening a yearning for connection in the midst of chaos.

He uncovers his eyes to see her resting peacefully on his bed, her face serene against the backdrop of turmoil. 

"You're going to be okay," he whispers softly, the words a promise he hopes to keep, unsure if he's convincing her or himself.

As he watches over her, the shadows of ZHEMIN's judgment loom large in his mind, but he shakes them off. Here, in this moment, he is not merely a guardian. He is a protector, a brother, and perhaps—just perhaps—the beginning of something beautiful.

The stillness of the room wraps around them, the faint scent of jasmine from the garden outside mingling with the cool air, creating an atmosphere thick with possibility. As he sits by her side, a sense of purpose blossoms within him, igniting a fierce determination to not only protect her but to uncover the depths of this unexpected bond that has begun to form between them.

[FADE OUT]

OUR ANGLE

Summary: WUXIONG saves a girl on Theia after an argument with his brother, and ZHEMIN (his brother) seems to have plans WUXIONG doesn't have to know.

What will happen to the found girl?
Why is ZHEMIN hiding his plans?
Where can WUXIONG hide the girl from the elders and his brother?

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