The lecture hall was silent, save for the rhythmic scratching of digital styluses against tablets and the distant, low-frequency hum of the Spire's primary mana-reactor. Ray sat in the third row, his eyes fixed on the professor, but his mind was elsewhere—somewhere between the cold obsidian sands of the inheritance realm and the sterile hospital room where his mother was still waiting.
He felt the weight of his father's watch in his pocket, a physical anchor to a world that was rapidly fading. The glass was cool against his palm, a reminder of a man who had navigated the stars with nothing but grit and a reliable navigation array. Now, Ray was navigating a world where his very blood was a map to ancient powers.
\"Mr. Den?\"
The professor's voice, like the dry rustle of parchment, snapped Ray back to the present. Professor Aris was looking at him over the rim of his spectacles, his eyes narrowed in a way that suggested he could see exactly what Ray was thinking.
\"Can you explain the relationship between spatial folding and the 'Divine Breath' mentioned in the First Age manuscripts?\"
Ray swallowed hard. He hadn't reached that section in his pre-reading. He felt the familiar prickle of heat rising in his neck, the same sensation he'd had when the hostel kids mocked his synthetic wool sleeves.
'Tell him about the currents, boy,' Shinlong's voice whispered, a resonant hum at the back of his mind. 'Tell him that space doesn't fold; it exhales.'
Ray took a breath, closing his eyes for a second. \"The Divine Breath isn't a force that acts upon space, Professor. It's the medium itself. Spatial folding is just a localized exhaling of that breath, a temporary contraction caused by a resonance shift. In the First Age, they didn't 'fold' space—they simply moved between the breaths.\"
The hall went absolutely still. Professor Aris paused, his digital stylus hovering inches above his podium. He looked at Ray for a long, uncomfortable moment, then slowly nodded. \"An... unorthodox perspective, Mr. Den. But historically consistent with the records we recovered from the ruins of the Core. Please, pay attention. The next distortion simulation will require you to understand these 'breaths' if you wish to remain grounded.\"
As the lecture continued, Ray felt a cold gaze on the side of his face. He didn't have to look to know it was Kaelen, the top-ranked student in the first-year cohort. Kaelen was from House Ashborn, the family that had been the Den's rivals since the era of the Great Calamity. His spark was a Ruler-rank Solar Flame, and he carried himself with the arrogance of someone who had never known the scent of budget detergent.
After the class, as the students filtered out into the corridors of white gold, Kaelen stepped into Ray's path. Two other students, their expressions matching Kaelen's smugness, flanked him.
\"Nice performance in there, Den,\" Kaelen said, his voice dripping with a casual, polished malice. \"The 'Eye of the Storm' indeed. Tell me, does the 'Divine Breath' smell like hostel corridors, or is that just you?\"
The students around them paused, Sensing the tension. Ray didn't move. He felt the Divine Spark in his chest pulse, a golden warmth that wanted to erupt, to show this boy the true meaning of power.
'Don't,' Shinlong warned. 'A master doesn't bark at the hounds. He simply walks past.'
\"I'm going to the training chambers, Kaelen,\" Ray said, his voice flat and steady. \"I don't have time for this.\"
\"Training?\" Kaelen laughed, a sharp, metallic sound. \"You think a week of sponsorship makes you one of us? You're a fluke. A resonance anomaly that the Pillars are too proud to admit was a mistake. Why don't you go back to the Outer Rim and leave the legacy to those who can actually carry it?\"
He reached out, his hand glowing with a faint, orange heat, and pushed Ray's shoulder.
It was a small gesture, meant only to provoke, but the reaction was anything but small. The moment Kaelen's hand touched Ray, the 'Type-Galaxy Body' reacted. A sudden, intense gravitational pulse erupted from the point of contact. It wasn't a technique Ray had consciously activated; it was an instinctive defense, a primordial rejection of an inferior resonance.
Kaelen was thrown backward, his boots sliding across the polished floor as a localized vacuum formed around Ray. The air hissed, drawn into the void Ray had inadvertently created. The other two students stumbled, their robes fluttering toward Ray as if pulled by an invisible magnet.
Ray's wings didn't unfurl, but the scars on his back throbbed with a brilliant blue light that could be seen through his academy tunic.
Kaelen recovered, his face flushed with a mixture of shock and fury. His hand was trembling—not from fear, but from the raw kinetic rejection he had just experienced. \"You... you think you can use 'Saint-rank' tricks to intimidate me?\"
\"I didn't do anything,\" Ray said, his voice sounding distant even to his own ears. He looked at his hand, then at Kaelen. \"Your fire... it's too weak to touch me. Shinlong was right. You're just building cages of gold.\"
Before Kaelen could respond, the heavy, rhythmic thuds of a guardian's boots echoed through the corridor. Sophia Den appeared, her presence cooling the heated air instantly. She looked at Kaelen, then at Ray, her expression unreadable.
\"The training chambers are for students who have mastered their sparks, not for schoolyard brawls,\" she said, her voice like the chime of a crystal bell. \"Kaelen, return to your dormitory. Ray, follow me. Your grandfather wishes to speak with you.\"
Ray followed her in silence through the winding corridors of the Spire. They reached a balcony that overlooked the Inner District's Central Plaza. Below them, thousands of lights flickered like a terrestrial galaxy, a map of power and influence that Ray was still trying to understand.
\"You shouldn't have provoked him,\" Sophia said, her back to him. \"House Ashborn is looking for any excuse to challenge the Den family's sponsorship. If they can prove you're a danger to the other students, they'll have the Pillars revoke your enrollment.\"
\"He touched me first,\" Ray argued, his grip tightening on the balcony rail. \"My body... it just reacted. I couldn't stop it.\"
\"That's the problem, Ray,\" she said, turning to face him. Her silver-blue hair shimmered in the twilight. \"A Galaxy Master isn't someone who has power; it's someone who is power. Every breath you take, every thought you have, it ripples through the mana of this city. You aren't a student anymore. You are a singularity. And if you don't learn to control it, you won't just destroy your rivals—you'll destroy the very world you're trying to save.\"
She handed him a small, black-and-white seed, identical to the one he had seen in the void. \"This is a resonance stabilizer. It won't suppress your power, but it will give your spirit a focus. Use it during your meditation. And Ray... stay away from the library's 'Forbidden Section'. The Ashborn have scouts there, searching for the same map Shinlong told you about.\"
Ray looked at the seed, then at the city below. The map. Shinlong had mentioned it—a map to the Nine Sovereigns. He felt the seed of the galaxy pulsing in his spirit, a silent promise of the trials to come.
Later that night, Ray sat on the floor of his dormitory room, the resonance stabilizer floating between his palms. He closed his eyes and reached inward, touching that cold, vast reservoir of power.
'Ray,' Shinlong's voice was uncharacteristically serious. 'The Ashborn aren't your only problem. I can feel a shift in the currents. The 'Void Tigers' are stirring in the higher realms. They have felt the echo of my sacrifice, and they are hungry for the Master's essence. You need to find the Solar Phoenix. Its flame is the only thing that can mask your resonance from the Void.'
'Where is it?' Ray asked, his mental voice echoing in the darkness of his spirit.
'It's not a where, Ray. It's a who. The Phoenix doesn't reside in a realm; it resides in a soul. And that soul is currently attending the Vanguard Academy.'
Ray's eyes snapped open. Another student? Someone like him?
He looked out the window at the gleaming spires of the Academy. Somewhere in this city of gold and shadows, another piece of his destiny was waiting. And he had a feeling that Kaelen Ashborn was just the first of many hounds he would have to walk past.
He stood up, the silver watch in his pocket clicking as he moved. He walked to his desk and opened his notebook. He didn't write about spatial folding or Divine Breath. He wrote a single sentence, the same one his father had whispered before his last flight.
\"The stars don't just watch; they remember.\"
Ray took a breath, the air in the room suddenly feeling a little lighter. He was ready for the next lesson. Not the one in the hall, but the one that the universe was preparing for him.
The Echo of the Void was calling, and for the first time, Ray was ready to answer.
As he lay down to sleep, he didn't dream of the hostel or the hospital. He dreamed of wings that spanned the horizon and a golden dragon that roared with the voice of a supernova. And in the center of it all, a man with a broken watch was smiling, his eyes filled with the light of a thousand dying stars.
Welcome to the real world, Galaxy Master. The hunt has just begun.