The hum of the DragonJet’s engines carried like a soft heartbeat through the cabin, steady and constant, a reminder of how long they’d been adrift above Earth. Four months. Four months since their journey began. Four months of breakfasts in weightless mornings, arguments that melted into laughter, and nights filled with stories and dreams of the world far below.Jackson was still staring at his whiteboard, fingers gripping the markers like they were lifelines. His voice had trailed off into that last question, left hanging: “How do I make them move?”Jack had been quiet, watching him with a father’s patience, but now he finally spoke.“Jackson,” Jack said, his tone calm but firm, “you asked me how to make them move. The truth is—you don’t start with the movement. You start with the meaning. Before they run, swing, or fly, you have to know why they’re moving. Every step, every leap, every swing… it has to come from who they are inside.”Jackson blinked up at him, processing the words.

Jackson leaned forward with the remote in his hand, eyes dancing with mischief. The glow of the plasma screen painted his grin in faint silver. He whispered, almost to himself but loud enough for Jack and Ryan to catch:“You know what? My favorite sport isn’t even football…”Jack arched an eyebrow. “Oh? Then what is it?”Jackson puffed his chest proudly. “Basketball. Way better. Faster, more exciting, and—” he jabbed the remote at the glowing menu, “—the Lakers are playing the Celtics right now. Perfect timing.”Ryan groaned. “Oh, great. From football to basketball. Next you’ll be forcing us to watch sumo wrestling.”But Jackson had already clicked through the channels. The plasma flickered, shifting from jubilant Barcelona highlights to the electric lights of an NBA arena. Purple and gold jerseys swarmed across the court, clashing with the green and white of Boston.The commentator’s voice thundered across the cabin:“Welcome back to Los Angeles where the Lakers are locked in a battl