The council chamber wasn't made of stone or steel. It was light—woven into shape by runes and stabilized by gravity fields. A floating hexagonal arena above the Lumeris Spire. Six thrones surrounded mine, each representing a realm under my banner or within reach of it. Each occupied by someone who could alter the fate of planets.
I sat in the central seat: obsidian-veined crystal laced with starlight metal. The Throne of Origin.
To my right was Queen Zephyra of the Gale Isles, her white eyes flickering like storm clouds. Her kingdom of airborne cities now relied on my skyforges for stability. She owed me, but her tone was always calculated.
Next came Dreadlord Varn, the reformed lich king of Voss Necropolis. He wore no armor—just an ageless body wrapped in silken shadows. His realm was the most technologically backward, but his knowledge of soulbinding was unparalleled. I needed him. He knew it.
Then came Archduchess Mira-Tal of the Crimson Depths, half-leviathan, half-human, born in the oceanic vaults. Her seat was always filled with water, her voice warped and ethereal. She represented the new biotech labs beneath the sea—labs I funded.
General Daruun Thorne sat for the Outlands, a warlord turned administrator. He governed ten wild regions I'd tamed with steel and systems.
High Chancellor Alrik, the reluctant human purist, represented the Eastern Confederation—a series of highland provinces uneasy with my off-world ambitions.
And the last seat…
...remained empty.
Until the light dimmed.
A rip in space blinked open. Out stepped a figure in sleek armor woven from voidsteel and psionic threads. No heat signature. No breath. Just presence.
She removed her helmet.
A woman with stars in her eyes.
"I am Vel'Sarei, Speaker of the Constellation Court," she said. "The multiverse remembers your kind, Jaden."
All eyes turned to me. Even Zephyra's storm faltered.
"My kind?" I asked.
"Those who rise too fast. Who bend time and will. Who terraform destiny. You have pierced through realms not meant to be touched… yet."
"You're not here to congratulate me, then."
"No. I'm here to warn you. Your signal has been noticed."
A projection hovered between us—a dimensional map I didn't recognize. A world marked in black flames pulsed.
"The Stargrievers are watching."
The room fell silent.
Even Dreadlord Varn leaned forward, frowning.
"Those things still exist?" he muttered. "I thought they were devoured during the Eclipse Cycle."
Vel'Sarei nodded. "They were driven back. Not destroyed."
I turned my focus inward. The system confirmed her words:
[EXTERNAL HOSTILE ENTITY DETECTED]
Threat Level: Undefined
Defense Protocols: Insufficient
Suggestion: Expand the Genesis Fleet. Reinforce planetary mana field. Secure interdimensional anchors.
"Then we prepare," I said aloud. "This council is no longer just planetary. It's cosmic."
Zephyra scoffed. "And what? You'll lead us into a war among stars?"
"No," I replied. "We'll lead together. Or we'll fall one by one."
Mira-Tal's voice, like breaking tides, echoed through the chamber. "Then give us our roles. Tell us how we survive this."
I stood, raising my hand to project a new blueprint.
[OPERATION STARSHIELD]
Genesis Fleet to triple in size
Each realm to provide a specialized battalion and research division
Outposts on the moon, ocean depths, and under-realm to be fortified
Crown AI to replicate anti-griever weaponry
Vel'Sarei granted Observer's Privilege—access to full system logs
Daruun saluted. Mira-Tal nodded. Even Alrik gave a tight-lipped agreement.
The war council had begun.
That night, under a sky I was rewriting star by star, Reina curled up beside me in the command observatory.
"Is it scary, Jaden?" she asked.
"Sometimes," I admitted.
"Will I be strong enough to help you someday?"
"You already are," I said, brushing her hair aside. "You're my anchor."
She smiled sleepily.
And I watched the stars—knowing not all of them were kind.