The sands outside Vey-Ra shimmered with the heat of twin suns—a furnace in motion. Within the walls of the Eramet Training Citadel, the air cracked with faint electrical pulses.
The Lesson of Steel and Pulse
Lieutenant Sabelo stood at the center of the sparring circle, his bare feet pressed into etched sigils that pulsed faint orange beneath the sand. Across from him, John Maux exhaled through his nose, his stance set, his chest covered by an Eramet battle plate and emblem—save for the faint opal veins glimmering beneath his skin.
"Center your mind. Focus your aim," Sabelo instructed, his voice calm as storm-tide. "Your heart and mind are the weapon. The sword is an extension of your body."
Two Eramet Plasma Blades ignited with a thunderclap. Twin ribbons of orange-violet energy burst to life, radiating heat and light like newborn stars. Sabelo tossed one toward John. The hilt struck his palm heavily at first, then lightened instantly—as though it were syncing with his pulse.
"Grip it firmly," Sabelo said. "Allow it to connect with your spirit. Respect it as you become one with its force. These are not toys. They become heavy for the impure heart."
John adjusted his grip.
"I can feel its vibration in my body."
"Good," Sabelo replied, circling him. "Plasma blades feed off Prime resonance. They respond to balance—mental, physical, and spiritual."
Their blades clashed. Sparks scattered like metallic pollen. Sabelo's strikes were deliberate, testing. John parried, stumbled, and parried again. His blade's hum fluctuated as his breathing faltered—the sword grew heavier.
"Center your mind," Sabelo commanded. "Invite fear and uncertainty—but control them. Let them heighten your focus."
"I'm trying!"
"To try is to fail. You either are or you are becoming. Any other path is death."
"Becoming what?" John snapped.
Sabelo's blade came low and fast, sweeping across John's guard. The impact spun him sideways; he hit the sand hard. His blade flickered and died.
"You must learn quickly—and be patient in doing so," Sabelo said, sheathing his sword. "You fight like an Earthling who still believes aggression and muscle deliver victory."
John spat dust, panting.
"Well, that's kind of what I am. And you talk like a comic book monk from the '80s. What is this 'becoming' stuff?"
Sabelo's lip twitched into a faint grin.
"Yes, you are an Earthling—for now. Use your mind; you'll figure it out."
The Queen's Orders
Inside the obsidian throne chamber, Queen Bella Tukana sat in quiet council. Her silhouette gleamed beneath suspended holo-crystals. Baako Osi, her towering guardsman, stood beside her—a wall of bronze and patience.
A group of Eramet scouts knelt before her, dust clinging to their cloaks.
"Go now," Bella commanded, "to Prodaria. Gather details on what's happening within the Icenarian Empire on that planet. The Toroxan incursion fractured more than our lines—something is not right. Icenaria has gone silent, and we cannot contact King Kago. We need to know what happened."
The lead scout saluted.
"Yes, my Queen."
Her tone softened slightly.
"If you find survivors, help them. Offer them refuge here—but remain undetected by enemy forces."
The scouts bowed low and disappeared into the corridors like phantoms.
Bella turned toward the balcony, gazing into the distant horizon.
"If Nordenheim truly controls the Icenarian throne, and we only narrowly repelled the Toroxans, then they must be conspiring together. This could shift the balance. I want our best detail securing the armory."
She turned to Baako.
"Gather two of your guardsmen to escort an emissary to Camoria. Request reinforcements from Queen Amala Barca. She'll demand a fee—whatever it is, pay it. We need two of her raider legions."
Baako Osi nodded and departed to fulfill his orders.
Mar'ral, the Royal Harbinger, approached. They were the only two remaining in the royal court.
"Your Majesty, I would like to oversee these excursions—to ensure we gather the intelligence needed, and to assist if necessary."
"Mar'ral, you are needed here," Bella said. "However… I do need someone to ensure the emissary reaches Camoria safely. Without those reinforcements, we will fall to another invasion. Go. Ensure the path is clear. Only interfere if there is danger. Amala has been both ally and adversary—I do not know her intentions in this. Be cautious."
The Burial of Zylar Wexx
Queen Bella Tukana, flanked by Baako and the Royal Guard, walked through the central streets of the Eramet capital with the burial party trailing behind.
Pallbearers hoisted the slain body of Zylar Wexx, the fallen Prime of Eramet. Though the empire still stood under royal guidance, the air carried a deep despair—its most powerful sorcerer and last Prime was gone. Zylar had fought fervently, but even he was no match for Rex Lucius.
The burial procession wound through the Path of Rituals into the Eramet Catacombs beneath the Nebulous Spire. Baako Osi oversaw preparations for the Ancestral Tomb. Dozens of silent attendants moved about the glowing sarcophagus, their gestures ritualistic and reverent.
Zylar Wexx lay upon the dais—tall, bronze-skinned, serene. The crystalline armor of his chest still bore the black scorch mark of Rex Lucius's Pyronic Mace, the blow that ended him.
Baako bowed his head.
"The last of our anchors. May his spark guide the next."
He motioned for the attendants to begin the sealing process—layers of light folding over Zylar's body, the sound like slow thunder.
"You gave your life to defend this world," Baako murmured. "We will not let it fall again."
The Discipline of Motion
Back in the courtyard, Sabelo's lessons grew harsher. The royal funeral procession could be seen in the distance, briefly distracting John.
"What's going on?" he asked.
"It is the funeral for Zylar Wexx, Grand Wielder of the Nebulous Force," Sabelo replied. "He defended this empire and the portal since its creation. He witnessed the rise and fall of many empires—including those that seeded life on your planet: the Anunnaki, Valhallans, Yoruba, Ennead, and others—our shared ancestors. For all his strength, even he could not withstand the might of Rex Lucius and that Drelf abomination he calls a wife."
"Drelf?" John interrupted.
"Dragon-Elf," Sabelo clarified. "Before you arrived, Zylar and Gavin Bolt led our defense against the Toroxan horde. I fought alongside Baako and our legions. Zylar amplified our abilities with his Nebulous Force, but the Drelf pierced his shield and sprayed him with pyronic acid. His energy collapsed. He barely fended her off using gravitational waves, but Rex Lucius broke through the lines and ended him with one swing of his mace. The shockwave knocked Gavin unconscious and hurled me back to the temple—just before you appeared. Then your spark ignited, forcing them to retreat, but not before they captured Gavin. Whether he lives or not, we do not know."
John's shirt clung to him, soaked in sweat. Sabelo circled like a tiger, blade lazy in hand.
"Why did they retreat from my spark? From what I saw, they had the upper hand."
"I cannot be certain," Sabelo replied. "But I believe they sabotaged the portal and communications beacon. The interference may have caused the rift to misfire—locking onto your location. Our engineers are working tirelessly to restore it before they return."
John's curiosity deepened; his guard dropped.
"Enough questions," Sabelo snapped. "Regain your focus. You learn fast—but not fast enough."
"Encouraging," John muttered.
Sabelo lunged. Their blades collided again, plasma screeching against plasma. Sparks burst as John pivoted, countering fluidly. For a moment, his motion synchronized; his blade sang.
Sabelo parried cleanly and drove a knee into John's chest, sending him sprawling.
"Better," Sabelo said. "But still thinking too much."
John rolled to his feet.
"I have some thoughts for you," he quipped, lunging forward.
"Discard them," Sabelo said simply. "Your thoughts will betray you in battle."
This time, John steadied his breathing—slow in, slower out. The blade's hum deepened, syncing with his heart. Their next exchange was fluid, electric. When the blades locked, Sabelo smiled.
"Now you're beginning to understand."
Questions of Blood and Stone
Hours later, after training, John followed Sabelo into the observatory, where Queen Bella waited.
She regarded him with a faint smirk.
"Still alive, I see."
"She's talking to you," John said to Sabelo.
Bella scoffed as Sabelo extended his arm and shoved John, toppling him into the sand.
"Wit is good," Bella said. "But not a virtue. I hope you're taking this seriously. Survival is the first test."
She turned toward the panoramic window, where stars shimmered like shifting runes.
"You asked how you might help in the search for your sister, Ronni, and your friend, Paul."
John nodded.
"You can help by enduring," Bella said. "The Nexus requires a stable Prime link to reopen interdimensional paths. You are that link. The stronger your resonance, the wider the window becomes. Once your frequency stabilizes, we can trace the residue of those who passed through with you."
"So… my training is the search," John realized.
"In part, yes. Every surge you control strengthens the map between worlds. But understand this—opening a rift requires immense spirit, will, and life-force. You are not yet ready to pay that price."
"One battle at a time," Sabelo added.
"Then I'll get ready," John replied.
Diamontion
Later, while watching workers reseal the catacomb entrance where Zylar Wexx lay, John turned to Baako Osi, who stood beside him.
"Can I ask something?" John said quietly.
Baako nodded.
"What's Diamontion? Bella mentioned it earlier. Everyone treats it like it's sacred."
Baako's gaze remained fixed on the glowing sarcophagus below.
"Because it is. Diamontion is the soul of creation—the substance at the heart of every Prime's blood. It powers our cities, ships, and weapons. Even gods once waged wars over it."
"So it's… energy?"
"It's more than that," Baako said. "It's memory. Thought. Potential. A lattice of living light that responds to will. The Diamontion Element is the most powerful of all elements. It exists in both solid and liquid forms and can amplify any power to unimaginable levels. But it is also deadly—lethal to those who have not fully mastered their abilities. When wielded correctly, Diamontion can elevate a Prime's power to shape reality itself."
He turned to John, eyes solemn.
"Your planet has Diamontion in abundance, buried deep within its crust. That is why Rex Lucius covets Earth."
John's chest tightened.
"He's not after revenge. He's after fuel."
"Both," Baako said grimly. "Control of Diamontion fuels his vengeance. If he succeeds, every world you know will be at his mercy. It is imperative that he never gains access to Earth."
The Call to the Serein Gate
The next morning, before dawn, the Nexus towers thrummed with new energy. Bella stood on the terrace overlooking Vey-Ra, her armor catching the rising light. Scouts raced across the horizon, carrying sigil banners.
Sabelo approached, expression grave.
"The scouts from the Serein Gate have returned from Icenaria."
Bella turned.
"And?"
He handed her a prism of data-light. She activated it, and a voice—broken, static-filled—emerged.
"This is Senator Leylani Joru of the Icenarian Leadership Council… We are in ruins… Nordenheim banners fly over the citadel—they've taken the throne… The Berserkers invaded three days ago, unprovoked. They slaughtered our leadership, kidnapped our elven citizens, and laid waste to the jungle capital of Kyrenopolis. I am the only member of the council left. My sister Brinn is missing—along with the Sulu delegation that aided us. The survivors and I are hiding deep underground. Magni Thorson, brother to the Nordenheim king, now rules our empire and is rounding up our people. I don't know if King Kago, his mother, or my sister made it out alive. Please… search the stars for Brinn and the Sulu delegation."
Then, silence.
Bella's jaw hardened.
"So it begins. These were coordinated strikes—timed while we were vulnerable, while the Sulu delegation was in transit. This was no accident."
She looked at Sabelo and John, standing nearby.
"Refortify the Serein Gate. Prepare for the inevitable invasion."
The air trembled as the city's towers awoke, the hum of the Nexus deepening into something that felt like prophecy.
Baako stepped forward.
"My Queen, we may already be too late. I'm detecting a contingency of Camorian warships inbound. They must be part of this Toroxan offensive. We haven't heard back from the emissaries we sent."
The Queen's eyes darkened, her expression unreadable.
"Then the fight is upon us."