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The Message Spreads
The Knoll Empire was in chaos.
The Overseer's transmission had already reached the highest echelons of power, and word leaked faster than fire in a dry field. What was once rumor became undeniable truth—an unknown Sage had erased fleets, generals, and even destinies with a single strike.
In the throne hall of Solakar, Emperor Veylor Knoll's expression twisted between relief and fury. His court had been shaken by the panic of nobles and generals alike. The towering banners of the Empire, emblazoned with the sigil of the black sun, fluttered weakly in the artificial wind.
At last, a report confirmed the impossible.
"A Monarch has answered, Your Majesty."
Relief surged across Veylor's face, his knuckles whitening as he clenched the golden armrests of his throne.
"Finally," he whispered, then louder, his voice echoing through the grand chamber, "Finally, the Primordials act! The upstart Sage will be obliterated. His defiance ends here!"
But even as his words thundered, doubt crawled like a shadow through the chamber. Ministers exchanged glances, generals avoided his eyes, and the silence after his proclamation was too heavy to ignore.
---
High above Solakar, across countless orbital stations and mobile fortresses, the fleets stirred. Warships, each capable of turning entire planets into molten slag, drifted uneasily in formation.
The news spread like poison among the soldiers.
"If even a Monarch has to come…" whispered one lieutenant aboard the Starcradle Dreadnought, "…does that mean our fleets are meaningless?"
A commander silenced him sharply, but the seed of fear had already sprouted. Others murmured the unthinkable:
"If even a Monarch fails… then the Empire itself is finished."
For the first time in generations, loyalty to the Emperor wavered—not from rebellion, but from despair.
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In the undercity of Solakar, where the light of the imperial spires never reached, rebels lit their signal fires. Flames danced in the dark alleys, mirrored in the fervent eyes of those who had suffered under the Knoll banner.
"To shake the Primordials themselves…" one rebel whispered, staring at the heavens.
"Then the Sage is no enemy," another said, lifting his torch high. "He is our deliverer!"
Across the labyrinthine slums, voices rose in unison. Songs that had been forbidden for centuries were sung again, echoing with defiance.
"The Primordials fear him!" the rebels cried. "Even their Monarchs stir!"
In temples dedicated to the Emperor's divinity, the sacred flames wavered. Priests gathered in alarm as the holy fire bent unnaturally, no longer bowing to the Emperor's sigil but flickering toward a new, unseen presence.
The oldest priest fell to his knees, trembling. His cracked voice broke the silence:
"This… this flame recognizes another."
Whispers spread like contagion among the clergy. Some fought the revelation, others embraced it. And in hushed voices, in ink and in holy ash, they began to write a new name where once only the Emperor's was permitted.
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Kai and Ema
Above the Milky Way, Kai stood suspended in the void, golden eyes gleaming as he clasped his hands behind his back. The galaxy itself seemed to breathe with him, ripples of faith, fear, and rebellion brushing against his soul.
Ema appeared beside him, her shimmering form etched in starlight. Her gaze was solemn.
"The Overseer's signal has reached them. The Primordials have seen you, Kai. Something is coming."
Kai smirked, unbothered. "Good. I've been waiting."
"You don't understand," she pressed, her tone sharp. "This will not be a Sage or even a late-stage one. A Monarch's domain is not bound to a single battlefield—it stretches across filaments . They are not mortals. They are laws given flesh."
Kai chuckled, rolling his shoulders as though preparing for a game. "Then I'll make it fun." His golden eyes glimmered with excitement. "Heal and Deal is deactivated. If I can't bleed, it's not worth the fight."
Ema's lips parted, startled. "You would handicap yourself against a Monarch?"
Kai laughed, the sound carrying through the void. "What's the point of a game if you can't lose?"
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The heavens convulsed.
Stars flickered like candles caught in a storm. Entire constellations twisted, contorting as if bowing before something greater. Nebulas rippled like fabric, pulled taut by an invisible hand.
And then—it appeared.
The Fortress of calyrex.
For a single, harrowing heartbeat, its silhouette dwarfed the galaxy itself. A citadel forged from the bones of dead superclusters, walls of collapsed dimensions, its presence was so vast it blotted out the light of entire star clusters. To gaze upon it was to understand insignificance.
In the next instant, it condensed, collapsing into a single figure.
A man.
Lord Calyrex descended. His steps crushed star clusters into silence. His form seemed lean, almost human, yet his every movement carried the inevitability of collapsing suns. His eyes were wells of gravity, swallowing light, pulling reality into their depths.
When he spoke, it was not merely sound—it was decree.
"By order of the Primordial Humans," his voice rolled like the collapse of a billion worlds, reaching every inhabited system of the Milky Way, "I, Calyrex, Enforcer of Law, declare your existence ends here."
---
Kai's golden eyes gleamed with unshaken calm. For a moment, silence ruled the void. Then his laughter erupted—low, sharp, echoing with something primal.
"Good," Kai said, voice cutting across the stars. His grin widened. "I was getting bored."
Galaxies trembled. Fleets froze. Priests fell silent mid-prayer.
The void itself prepared to split.
Thus began the clash of the anomaly and the Monarch.
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