The third gate closed behind Neel, sealing the silver glow in silence. For a brief moment, time itself seemed to hold its breath in the courtyard of Aethrion. Rohit stood quietly, sweat dripping from his brow, still shaken from his own battle. Neel, composed as ever, folded his arms, his gaze fixed forward like a blade sheathed in calm.
Ariv clenched his fists. He could feel the weight of countless unseen eyes bearing down on him—the aura of something beyond human comprehension.
"The last gate," Rudraen said, his voice low but heavy with finality. His crimson eyes locked on Ariv as the fourth gate ignited. Unlike the others, this one didn't glow in a single color. Instead, it blazed with swirling fragments of starlight—shards of a galaxy compressed into a single, endless void.
The energy radiating from it was overwhelming, making even the stone beneath their feet tremble faintly. Rohit took an involuntary step back. Neel's eyes narrowed.
Ariv swallowed hard. The locket around his neck pulsed once, faintly warm, as if warning him. He reached up and held it, feeling the metal thrum against his palm.
"Your turn," Rudraen said, his tone unreadable.
Ariv nodded silently and stepped forward. His heart wasn't pounding with fear—it was anticipation. Something inside him, something buried deep for so long, was stirring.
As he crossed the threshold, the world collapsed into darkness.
---
The Trial of the Galaxy
There was no ground. No sky. No sense of direction. Ariv stood suspended in an ocean of stars—millions of them, glittering in every direction like fragments of shattered eternity. Nebulas twisted and curled in the distance, colors bleeding into one another. It was beautiful. Terrifying. Infinite.
Then, a voice broke the silence.
Not loud. Not soft. But eternal—a sound that felt older than time itself.
"So… a Zenith awakens after decades."
The words rippled through the cosmos like thunder rolling across a void. Ariv spun, searching for the source, but there was nothing—only starlight.
"Who… are you?" he asked, his voice trembling despite his resolve.
The answer didn't come in words, but in feeling—a crushing weight pressing down on his soul, as if entire galaxies bore their weight upon his shoulders. He fell to one knee, gasping, his veins burning like molten fire.
"Power is not given. It is endured. Show me if you can bear the name you carry."
The stars flared violently. From their light, forms emerged—creatures born of void and flame, their bodies twisting with cosmic energy. Kalaraks, but not like the ones Ariv had seen before—these were colossal, each step warping space around them.
Ariv staggered back, instinct screaming to move, to fight. But when he tried to summon his energy, nothing came. The locket burned against his chest, suppressing the storm within him.
"Tch… not now," he muttered, ripping the locket and pulling at it desperately—but it clung like a shackle, sealing away the tidal wave inside him.
The first creature lunged, its claws streaking like comets. Ariv barely rolled aside, the impact splitting a distant star in two. His body screamed with pain as shards of cosmic debris sliced across his arms and legs.
He grabbed a fragment of stone—if it could even be called that—in his hands. His grip tightened. If I can't use my power… then I'll fight with this.
The beasts circled him, hunger blazing in their hollow eyes. Ariv swung the fragment, smashing into the nearest creature's jaw. It roared, barely flinching, and swiped him across the chest, sending him spiraling through empty space.
Blood spilled in the void. His vision blurred. His breath came in ragged gasps.
I can't… win like this…
The voice returned, louder now, resonating in every particle of his being:
"You are not fragile flesh. You are the storm that ends stars. Do you understand, child of Zenith?"
The moment those words sank into his mind, something inside him snapped. No—shattered.
The locket burst into fragments with a sound like cracking glass, pieces scattering into the infinite. For a heartbeat, the universe went silent.
Then—
It began.
An eruption of light tore through Ariv's body, splitting the darkness like dawn breaking over a dead world. His veins blazed with silver fire, his eyes burning like twin stars. The creatures froze mid-charge, their bodies convulsing as raw gravitational force rippled through the void.
Ariv floated in the center of a galaxy reborn—rings of stardust spiraling from his form, constellations bending to his will. The sheer aura of Galaxy Zenith roared like an endless storm, shattering everything in its wake.
The voice whispered, almost reverent:
"Yes… you are the one."
The creatures screamed as they disintegrated, their forms unraveling into dust beneath the cosmic tide. Planets crumbled, stars collapsed into black holes—all dancing in the gravity of his unleashed power.
Ariv clenched his fists, his voice steady now, stripped of all doubt:
"I'm not your pawn. Not yours. Not anyone's."
The universe around him quaked. Then, everything went white.
---
Outside the Gate
The ground shuddered. The sky above Aethrion cracked with streaks of starlight, lightning arcs tearing across the horizon. Rohit stumbled back. "What… what the hell is happening in there?!"
Neel's jaw tightened, his silver-lit eyes narrowing. He broke something… no—he unleashed it.
Rudraen stood still, his crimson cloak billowing in the sudden gale. His gaze locked on the fourth gate, where light poured through the cracks like molten suns.
Galaxy Zenith… after decades… and it had to be him.
The gate exploded outward with a thunderous boom, and Ariv stepped through—shirt torn, eyes blazing faintly like stars burning under his skin. His aura didn't just radiate; it devoured, warping the air, bending the space around him.
And then—just like that—it vanished. The storm collapsed inward, sealing itself. Ariv staggered forward, the fragments of his locket slipping from his hand. His chest heaved with exhaustion, but his eyes were calm. Cold. Determined.
Rudraen's lips curved into the faintest, most dangerous smile.
The Queen will want to see this.