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Chapter 2 - The beginning

Paul Love stood on the observation deck of the Moon base, the gray plains stretching endlessly beneath him. The Earth hung faintly in the distance, blue and fragile against the black void. His body—engineered to survive extremes of radiation, low gravity, and hostile atmospheres—moved effortlessly. Nothing here could stop him… except Victor.

Victor, his guardian, approached with silent authority, boots heavy against the deck. He was imposing, every movement precise, every word measured. Paul had grown up under Victor's strict watch, trained to endure, to anticipate danger, and to respect discipline. The man was more than a protector—he was a constant reminder that the galaxy would not forgive weakness.

"You're late," Victor said, voice low and firm. "Do not let carelessness define you. One mistake here, and it won't just cost you… it could cost everything."

Paul straightened. "I won't make mistakes."

Victor's sharp gaze softened for a fraction of a second before returning to its usual intensity. "Good. You'll need more than skill where you're going. You'll need patience, foresight… and the understanding that being the Hidden Conqueror isn't about brute strength alone. It's about making choices no one else dares to make."

Paul's eyes drifted toward the skeletal remains of an old Sky Council outpost on the lunar plains, shattered metal and dust scattered like teeth in the desolate landscape. The Great Fall. He had grown up hearing whispers of it, tales of betrayal, fleets destroyed, civilizations wiped out—but the truth was hidden. And he had made it his mission to uncover it.

Victor stepped closer, reaching into his cloak. He produced a delicate silver chain, the pendant glinting faintly in the lunar light. "Take this," he said, holding it out. "A reminder of where you come from… and what you carry with you. When you are far from here, when doubt weighs on you… remember this cradle, and remember who watches over you."

Paul took the necklace, feeling the cold weight of the pendant in his palm. It was a simple token, yet it carried the gravity of everything he had ever known: guidance, discipline, and home. "Thank you, Victor," he said softly.

Victor nodded, his expression unreadable but firm. "Remember, Paul, the galaxy is still bleeding from the Great Fall. Out there—rebels, factions, remnants of the old war—they are all waiting. And so am I. Watching. Judging. Ensuring that when the time comes, you are not broken."

Paul moved toward the spacecraft, adjusting the controls with practiced precision. The engines hummed beneath him, vibrating through reinforced bones and enhanced muscles. His dream was simple yet monumental: bring peace to the galaxy. But to do so, he had to uncover the truth behind the Great Fall, confront the chaos it had left behind, and claim the strength to face forces that had torn the universe apart.

"You are more than you know," Victor said quietly, almost a warning. "But the galaxy will learn your name only when you are ready… and that day is not yet here."

Paul clenched his fists. That name—The Hidden Conqueror—had been whispered around him all his life. Perhaps he would discover its meaning along the way. Perhaps he would carve it himself, planet by planet, revelation by revelation.

The engines ignited, lifting the craft from the Moon's surface. Stars streaked past as he set a course for Earth, the cradle of humanity, the first step toward unraveling the Great Fall. Even as he accelerated into the darkness, Paul could feel it—the weight of history pressing against him, and the sense that unseen eyes were already watching, waiting.

He was ready. He was The Hidden Conqueror. And somewhere, out there in the galaxy, the echoes of the Great Fall stirred… as if aware that someone had begun to chase the truth.

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