For a long moment, nobody moved.The fire crackled softly, shifting from celebration to study hall intimacy.Then Jackson cleared his throat.“So… uh,” he began, pushing his glasses up. “Speaking of growing worlds, I’ve actually been wondering about something completely unrelated but somehow emotionally relevant.”Ryan tensed dramatically. “If you ask how babies are made, I’ll throw myself into the snow.”Jackson glared. “No. Science. Space. The good stuff.”Jack raised a brow. “…Continue.”Jackson swiped his holo-tablet. Stars spun across the air in swirling constellations.“Gaseous planets,” he said, voice reverent. “Like Jupiter. Saturn. How’d they evolve differently? Why do some worlds become solid and earthlike and others… gigantic storms forever?”Lena’s eyes widened, fascinated. Matilda clasped her hands like a kid at storytime. Sarah leaned back comfortably, knowing that when Jack explained science, peace descended like snow.Jack rested his elbows on the table, the firelight

Jack leaned closer to the projection, the light of the fire dancing across his face, casting shadows like small, fleeting planets themselves.“Atmospheric escape,” he began, “is how a planet loses some of its air to space. Not always dramatically. Often slowly, silently, like a whispered goodbye. Hydrogen, helium, even oxygen — over millions of years, some just drift away.”Matilda tilted her head. “So… planets sigh?”Jack chuckled softly. “Exactly. They release what they can’t hold, shaping what remains. Earth does it too, though our magnetosphere and gravity protect most of the essentials. Mars? Not so lucky.”The projection shifted — red soil, jagged canyons, rust-colored dust swirling in simulated winds.“Mars had rivers once,” Jack said quietly. “Oceans, a thicker atmosphere, maybe even life ingredients. But its magnetic field weakened. Solar wind stripped away the air. Water vapor escaped. Now it’s thin, cold, almost silent.”Lena’s voice caught. “So… even promising worlds can f

Jack leaned closer to the hologram, eyes tracing the orbits of planets as they spun silently in cosmic harmony. The firelight painted soft streaks across his face, flickering like distant supernovae.“Now,” he said slowly, voice low, “let’s talk about us. Humans. Evolution of man.”Matilda’s eyes widened. “Like… real evolution?”“Yes,” Jack murmured. “Not just bones and genes, not just survival of the fittest. Humans evolve physically, yes, but also emotionally, socially, morally. Mentally. Every generation carries echoes of the previous, learns from them, adapts. Each person is a world unto themselves — orbiting, colliding, growing.”Lena tilted her head, fingers intertwined. “So… the way we handle storms, emotions, hardships — that’s evolution?”Jack nodded, slow and deliberate. “Exactly. Evolution isn’t just what happens in textbooks. It happens in everyday life — how we respond to challenges, how we nurture, how we fail and recover, how we connect with others. The pressures of lif

Jackson stared at the holograms, chewing his pencil tip nervously before raising his hand again. His voice was small, but curious.“Jack… I’ve been wondering something since forever.”He swallowed.“Why don’t other planets have animals… or plants… or water… like Earth does? Why are we the only ones with all of that?”The room shifted. Eyes turned. Even Ryan, who had been slouched and half-asleep, straightened slightly.Jack’s expression softened. He tapped the air, enlarging Earth’s hologram until oceans spilled like liquid sapphire and continents glowed with life.“Good question,” he murmured, folding his hands. “And the answer is layered — scientific, historical, and… poetic.”Matilda hugged her knees.Lena’s breath caught.Emily leaned forward, elbows on knees, eyes thoughtful.Jack pointed to the swirling blue oceans. “First… water. Liquid water is delicate. It needs a planet the right distance from its star — not too close or it boils away, not too far or it freezes solid. Scient

The DragonJet drifted silently in the void, the vastness of space stretching beyond the cabin windows. Days had bled into nights — or at least, the faint simulations of them — and they had been aboard for nearly three months. Time had begun to stretch and fold in peculiar ways, a subtle reminder that space did not follow the rhythms of Earth.Jackson leaned against the hull, eyes tracing the distant streaks of starlight. “…Jack,” he murmured, voice hesitant, “we’ve been out here for months, but it feels like days. How… far are we from Mars? Or from Earth, really?”Jack swiped the holograms, revealing a 3D projection of the inner solar system. Mars floated as a rusty orb, Earth a brilliant sapphire nearby. “Distance depends on alignment,” Jack said softly. “At closest approach, Mars is about fifty-five million kilometers from Earth. That’s 55,000,000 kilometers… or roughly 34 million miles. At the DragonJet’s maximum cruising speed, we could traverse that in a few months. But in realit