Gaia Chronicles: The Integral Saga

Before she could spell the word "world,"Mia wanted to build one.

Born on the 25th of December, in a quiet alpine village at the edge of the Swiss-French border, Mia Synthesis 18 was what the locals called a "miracle child." Her birth came with a starless sky turning gold, and soft snowfall that glowed faintly blue—a rare etheric phenomenon recorded only twice in history.

Her hair, pale honey and curled like soft clouds, shimmered under sunlight. Her violet eyes sparkled with wonder even before she could walk.

But Mia wasn't just gifted.She was lonely.

Her parents—both ether engineers—ran a secluded Gaia-sponsored research facility near the mountains. But the location was classified. There were no neighbors. No other children. No friends.

So Mia invented her own.

Paper-birds with folded wings that flew without wind. Dolls that spoke with programmed voices. Music boxes that danced on their own. All crafted with her bare hands and... something else. Something deeper.

By the age of six, her creations defied physics. She sculpted chairs from starlight. Once, she built a clock that ticked backward yet still told the right time.

Her parents hid it all.

The world wasn't ready, they said. Gaia's inspectors came once a year, but Mia was always hidden in the basement, giggling quietly with her sketchbooks and magic screws.

Until the accident.

A rogue Abyss rift—Rank 10—opened near the base's perimeter.Her parents activated the failsafe. Shielded her in the inner chamber.They didn't make it.

By the time Gaia's forces arrived, the facility was in ruins… but untouched, around her.In the center of the collapsed library stood a glowing dome—a protective barrier made entirely of handwritten equations and threads of light.

Inside sat Mia, arms wrapped around a mechanical bear she'd built, eyes red from tears but shining with resolve.

"I… didn't want anything else to break," she whispered.

Taken into Gaia's care at age seven, Mia was placed in the Cognitive Wing of the headquarters. They expected trauma. Resistance. Silence.

Instead, she walked into the engineer's labs and asked, "Where do you keep the good gears?"

She didn't want pity.She wanted parts.

Mia's ability—Creation Force—was unlike anything Gaia had ever catalogued.She could design and manifest constructs from ether alone, imbuing them with logic and function. But there was a rule:

She couldn't create anything with a soul.

Living beings, true sentience, the spark of life—were beyond her reach.And that rule broke her heart.

Because all she ever wanted was a real friend.

Years passed.She built wonders: floating vehicles, combat droids, entire city simulations in miniature. But she never took the Knight Trials.

Not until one day, she discovered Lexigra—an ancient Grimoire sealed in the Hall of Echoes.A Divine Artifact that pulsed to her touch, not with power… but with imagination.

The trial was not a battle. Not a trap.

It was a test of dreams.

Mia entered the mental plane and found herself in a vast white library—stretching into eternity. Pages floated around her like snowflakes.A voice whispered: "Show me what you truly want."

She drew for three days straight. In the end, her final creation wasn't a machine.It was a single line:

"I want a family made of people who won't disappear."

Lexigra accepted her.

She returned from the trial with tears on her cheeks and a smile that felt real for the first time in years.

Mia Synthesis 18 was born.

She was not a soldier. Not a tactician.But Gaia needed more than swords.

They needed builders. Dreamers. Hope.

Mia brought color into the steel halls. She filled the empty cafeteria with warm inventions. She left tiny helper bots in the dorms of tired knights. She once sewed a flying pillow machine to gently smack Cyg awake when he forgot to sleep.

He didn't thank her.

But he stopped skipping meals after that.

Mia's friendship with Elaine bloomed first—both girls shared joy like oxygen. Charlotte fascinated her. Sylvia sometimes teased her, but never cruelly. Harriet broke half her inventions by accident, then helped fix them in guilt.

But Eun-Ha?

Mia feared her at first.Too divine. Too quiet. Too untouchable.

Until Eun-Ha one day knelt beside her and picked up a tiny mechanical cat Mia had been struggling with.

"It needs a heart, doesn't it?" she asked.

Mia nodded. "But I can't make one."

Eun-Ha gently placed her hand over the machine. Light passed between them—divine ether and creation force mingling for just a moment.The cat blinked once. Purred. Came alive.

They never spoke of it again. But from that day on, Mia sat closer to Eun-Ha. Trusted her.

Mia never stopped dreaming.Not even now.

Because one day, she believed… she might create something even stronger than machines.

She might help build a future worth living in.