Disclaimer: The author's imagination and passion are the only sources of inspiration for this novel, which is a work of dedication. Parallels between these pages and the past or present may be apparent to some readers, but they are completely coincidental. You are free to interpret this art anyway you see fit, and it is meant for your enjoyment.

Tan Holdings' 50th level had long since transformed from a business stronghold into a high-stakes family playground. Zenrius "Zen" Tan's glass-walled office, known as the "Junior Executive Suite," was located at the end of the east wing. At ten years old, Zen was the more sophisticated, 2.0 version of his father, not just a replica. Wearing a fitted navy jacket, he sat behind his specially constructed obsidian desk, drinking an organic juice box like a vintage scotch while carefully going over a "logistics report" for his Grade 5 Science assignment.

But the peace of his office was never destined to last.

The heavy door was kicked open—not pushed, kicked—by a pair of tiny, glittering patent leather shoes.

Elyzius "Ely" Tan, a five-year-old whirlwind who had inherited her father's deadly, dominating aura and her mother's terrifyingly brilliant mind for calculations, marched in. Ely was the "Audit Queen." She annexed land rather than walking, whereas Zen was the "Pilot" in spirit. She carried a little, high-end clipboard in her arm, and her father's almond-shaped, black eyes could freeze a vice president at thirty paces.

"Zenrius," she barked, her voice high but carrying that unmistakable Tan authority. "We have a budgetary emergency."

Zen didn't look up from his tablet. "If it's about the missing strawberry yogurt in the breakroom, Ely, I've already filed a report. The janitorial staff is under investigation."

Ely said, "This is bigger than yogurt," and slammed a glossy catalog onto his desk. It opened to a page with the sapphire-encrusted 'Petit Dragon' Limited Edition mini-tote, which retails for a sum that could purchase a small island. "I've calculated the projected social ROI for my upcoming kindergarten gala. Without this accessory, my influence among the toddlers will drop by 15%. I need a capital infusion. Now."

At last, Zen raised his head, his forehead furrowing into that renowned Tan frown. "You're five. Your only 'social ROI' is making sure you don't lose your lunchbox. And that bag costs as much as a Cessna engine. Denied."

Ely narrowed her eyes. The temperature in the room dropped ten degrees. She leaned over the desk, her father's "Dragon" energy radiating off her tiny frame. "If you don't authorize the transfer, I will tell Mom that you were the one who 'audited' her secret dark chocolate stash last night. I have the receipts, Zenrius. And the crumbs."

The Heist and the Intervention

Zen, recognizing a superior tactical position, sighed. "Fine. But we need a disguise. If Dad sees us at the mall, he'll give us a lecture on 'fiscally responsible flight paths' again."

The two siblings ran across a huge, strong man with a bright Hawaiian shirt and a box of donuts as they were trying to sneak out toward the private elevator.

"Whoa! Where's the fire, little Dragons?" Uncle Emman laughed, catching Zen by the shoulder and Ely by her sparkly hair bow.

"Uncle Emman! We are on a mission of national security," Ely declared, trying to look dignified while being held aloft. "We need to go to the boutique. Zen is paying."

"Is that so?" Emman asked with a smile and sparkling eyes. Being the main facilitator of the children's mayhem, he had been the most popular uncle for the past ten years. "Does your Dad know about this mission?"

"Dad is currently in a 'mood' because Mom found out he bought another hangar without asking," Zen muttered. "He's distracted. This is our window."

"Say no more," Emman said with a wink. "Uncle Emman's Tactical Transport at your service. Let's go, kids! We're going on a heist!"

The "Heist Team" made their triumphant return to the penthouse two hours later. Emman wore a pair of light-up sneakers that were obviously three sizes too small, Zen had a purse from a high-end tech store, and Ely clutched a little, sapphire-encrusted bag.

They didn't even make it past the foyer.

With their arms folded, Zayrius and Elizien appeared to be the two most powerful auditors in the universe. With his eyes like flint and his jaw set, Zayrius had returned to his "Captain" image. The tablet in Elizien's hand was already showing the credit card alerts that were posted in real time by Zen's "Emergency Fund."

"Emman," Zayrius snarled in a thunderous voice. "Explain to me why my ten-year-old son just spent the equivalent of a regional flight budget at a boutique, and why you are wearing shoes that blink?"

"Hey, man, they were on sale!" Emman defended, though he looked like he wanted to hide behind the toddlers. "And the kids had a very compelling business case! Ely had charts!"

"Ely," Elizien murmured in a soothing yet frightening tone. "Show me the calculations you used to justify a sapphire bag for a kindergarten gala."

Ely didn't flinch. She moved forward, raised her small clipboard, and started talking. "Based on the current inflation of luxury goods and the scarcity of the Petit Dragon line, the resale value will appreciate by 20% in three years. Technically, Mom, I'm not spending money; I'm hedging against future currency devaluation."

Zayrius looked at Elizien. Elizien looked at Zayrius.

"She used your 'hedging' argument," Zayrius muttered to his wife.

"And she used your 'Dragon' glare," Elizien whispered back.

Zayrius said, "Zenrius," turning to face his son. "You authorized the payment. That means for the next month, you are grounded from the flight simulator. And you will be doing the manual data entry for the logistics fuel logs. By hand."

Elizien said, "And Ely," and took the sapphire bag. "This goes into the safe until you can prove you understand the difference between an asset and a liability. Which means you're helping me with the kitchen inventory for the next week."

"And Emman," Zayrius glared at his brother-in-law. "Take those shoes off. You're scaring the fish in the aquarium."

Later that evening, Zayrius and Elizien sat on their balcony with a view of the city after Emman had finally left (still wearing the blinking shoes) and the children had been sent to their rooms (while yelling loudly about "corporate tyranny").

"We created monsters, didn't we?" Zayrius asked, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.

"We created a Pilot and an Auditor, Zayrius," Elizien laughed, leaning her head on his shoulder. "What did you expect? They were born in a boardroom and raised in a cockpit."

Zayrius whispered, "Zen is exactly like I was," and reached for her hand. "Too serious for his own good. He needs to learn to enjoy the flight."

"And Ely... she's going to run this company before she turns twelve," stated Elizien. "She has your eyes, Zayrius. Every time she looks at me when she's in trouble, I almost want to give her whatever she wants."

Zayrius turned to her, a rare, soft smile playing on his lips. "That's because she knows the Dragon's weakness, Elizien. She knows that in this family, the heart always overrides the ledger."

The smell of the city and the sky surrounded them as he pulled her into a kiss. They left behind a legacy of love, mayhem, and two tiny humans who were already planning their next big adventure—more than just an empire.

As the lights of Manila twinkled below, Zayrius whispered against her hair, "Maybe we should buy her the matching headband for her birthday? Just for the ROI?"

Elizien chuckled and gave him a light arm slap. "Don't you start, Captain. The audit is closed for the night."

But as she looked back into the darkened penthouse, she saw two small heads peeking out from behind the corridor wall, already whispering about their next "mission."

The Flight into Forever was no longer a solo or a duo—it was a fleet.