The voice of King Kratos thundered through the Dark Star Kingdom’s Imperial Pace like a rolling storm. Seated upon a throne carved from celestial iron, the king’s form radiated unshakable authority, yet his expression betrayed the fury boiling beneath his regal mask.
Before him, a line of advisors and protectors of the kingdom stood, each one a titan in their own right—mages who could crumble mountains, warriors who had stood unbroken against armies and summoners whose summons could y ruins to cities in hours, yet each held subservient expressions regarding the Imperial Lord, King Kratos, a powerhouse in his own right, with the respect he deserved.
Among them, one stepped forward.
She wore a robe of midnight blue, sporting bck hair that cascaded down her back like a silken river, with emerald eyes that gleamed with a light far sharper than mere intellect.
Lyra Asta — High Advisor of the Court.
"My lord, if I may speak?"
Kratos’s cold gaze lingered on her. A moment stretched, then he nodded once.
Lyra's voice rang out, steady yet somber.
"Through ancient tomes and star-etched prophecies, I have found answers," she said. "Millennia ago, after the Great Mana Awakening, the world was reshaped. Rifts, dungeons, and beast tides became inevitable. And with each passing millennium, the tides grow more violent."
Kratos’s fingers drummed once against his throne, a sound like thunder against steel.
"And yet," Lyra continued, hesitating for just a heartbeat, "this is only the eighth century since the st catastrophe. The pattern should not have shifted."
"You insult me by suggesting I cannot count, Lyra," Kratos growled, his voice low and dangerous.
"I would never," she said quickly, bowing low. "But the ancient records speak of compression. The intervals between disasters... are shrinking."
A heavy silence fell over the hall.
He looked upon her, his gaze cold with the contempt of a man who had long surpassed the 100th level. His arrogance wasn’t unfounded—when one wielded that kind of power, perception itself shifted, a snap of his fingers was all it would take to finish off those who would dare to term themselves his enemies, yet all power had it's limits and so did his, he couldn't be at all parts in his kingdom at once, and given his marginally rge kingdom even his subordinates would have trouble covering it all which all came to a single conclusion, one that he had sworn never to do ever since he had cimed the throne- to revalue his kingdom and accept that not all of his 50 cities within could be saved.
Still he consoled himself, he was looking at the bigger picture where a minor portion had to be sacrificed for the rest to live.
His inner monologue was broken off by the furrow forming at the forehead of Lyra while her lips pressed together as if contempting on whether to say something, before she could gather up the courage to address the man before her, who after all this time still filled her with dread due to his unpredictability, a cold voice resounded in her ears, "What? spit it out!"
Without hesitation she continued, "My Lord, I read even more scrolls and ancient manuscripts and divined through the stars, after every monster invasion the period has been reducing significantly after every time, though not in a fixed time frame but it reduces every millennia..."
"This..."
A scowl formed at the kings face as he contempted the information....If this was true then the disaster was going to hit soon, a camity was brewing.
But first he had to calm himself. He couldn't show weakness to his surbodinates.
He closed his eyes for a long moment.
When he spoke again, his voice was as calm and cold as a frozen ocean.
"How long?"
Lyra’s hands tightened into fists at her sides.
"A year, my lord," she whispered. "Perhaps less, worst case scenario is a few weeks."
A chill colder than any winter crept through the grand throne room.
Kratos inhaled slowly, the air hissing between his teeth.
"Why," he said quietly, "was this not brought to me sooner?"
"My lord," Lyra said, falling to one knee, "forgive me. Only after the surge in dungeon breaks and the final stars in the night sky align, did I dare speak
Kratos waved his left hand, a sharp, curt motion.
"It matters not. What matters now is survival."
The room remained silent, the weight of impending doom pressing down on every soul present.
Then, suddenly, a spark of inspiration lit up in the king’s mind.
"Tell me," he said, his voice cutting through the tension. "Have there been any notable awakenings this year? Any heroes born among the people?"
Right after the words left his lips, the door to the throne room burst open revealing a nation toppling beauty. Eyes alluring as the moonlight and bck hair that cascaded all the way to her ample back, a young dy walked in, With a face which seemed to have been crafted by a godly artisan, each step she took highlighted the white robe that clung to her like a second skin.
"Sophia," he growled. "How many times must I tell you not to barge into—"
"Father!" she cried, her voice bright with excitement, cutting him off without the slightest fear. "Good news!"
Kratos opened his mouth to reprimand her — but she leapt forward, a sparkle of triumph in her vivid eyes.
Her demeanor pyful like a little kitten yet carrying excitement that he hadn't heard from her for a long time.
"An SSS- rank talent has Awakened in our Dark Star Kingdom! And not just one but two!"
For an instant, the world seemed to freeze.
The advisors gasped aloud, their practiced composure shattering.
Even Kratos himself — Kratos, who had faced armies alone, who had sughtered beings surpassing the 100th rank— stiffened.
Then slowly... slowly... a grin began to stretch across his face.
A low chuckle escaped his lips, building into a roar of ughter that shook the pilrs of the throne room.
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" His ughter thundered through the pace, wild and victorious. "The heavens have not forsaken me! Not yet!"
His fist smmed down onto the throne’s arm, cracking the celestial iron.
He rose to his feet, his blue eyes bzing with a fire unseen for decades.
"Send word!" he bellowed. "The future of the Dark Star Kingdom has just been reborn!"
And though outside, rifts split the skies and beasts roared at the gates, within the heart of the pace, hope bloomed anew — fierce, defiant, and unstoppable.
***
Elsewhere in the Dark Star Kingdom.
Maelstrom City.
In a dimly lit room, a young man sat cross-legged before a flickering blue screen only he could see. Its glow danced across his calm, obsidian eyes.
(Ding! Congratutions to the host for replicating the space Vector Master talent!
Do you wish to absorb it into your bloodline?
<
“Space Vector Master,” Azvoid muttered, eyes narrowing. “That’s… top-tier, right? Feels better than some egg… I think?”
He exhaled, lips curving into a grin.
“What’s the worst that could happen, right, Eggy?”
<
The moment the thought left him, the world shifted.
His veins lit with starlight. Space
didn’t just bend — it folded into him. His bones hummed. His blood screamed.
Somewhere far away, the sky trembled.