An hour before the strike in Shelton.Aron walked through the hatch into the underground facility constructed by Jason and Catherine. He looked around in approval, thinking, ‘This is a good aesthetic, but it needs a little something... extra.’He gestured for his escort to halt, then bent down and, perhaps in a fit of chuunibyo, clapped his hands and placed them on the ground. Unseen by his unblessed escort, a runic circle spread out from his hands and the floor, walls, and ceiling began changing. Line after line dug itself through the imperial steel alloy structure, leaving behind a mystifying, maze-like pattern. The lines etched themselves throughout the entire base for an entire five minutes before the etching process was completed. Once they stopped, the runic circle under Aron’s hands began pulsing like a heartbeat, each pulse coming faster and faster as the process continued. Finally, the pulse was so fast it appeared that it was a solid light, then rune after rune flew out of
(Ed note: Trigger warning. Torture and gore.)The emperor’s aegis was the best of the best of Aegis, and well deserving of their title as the most elite special force under the ARES umbrella. Though their training focused primarily on defense, a wise man once said that the best defense was a good offense. Of course, nobody knew exactly who first said that, and sports coaches and military strategists around the world all laid claim to it coming from one of their forebears, but whoever said it was still an incredibly wise man.Thus, the emperor’s aegis was also unparalleled in all areas. They could perform counterintelligence operations with the grace of a nyxian, special military operations with the ease of a reaper, and were still the strongest shield standing between Aron and those who would wish to target him. So capturing a few terrified cultists was as easy to them as drinking water or snapping their fingers.Twenty minutes after they had captured the last fleeing cultists, they
Aron’s eyes flashed gold as he looked at the unconscious cultists in the crater. He noticed a purple worm wriggling its way out of the eye of one of the awakeners and attempting to flee. But since his shield blocked all mana from passing through in both directions, the purple worm could only bang against it like a fly on a windowpane.He stepped off the rim of the crater and slid down the steep side. “Why did everything disintegrate when I absorbed all of the mana?” he asked Nova.{Have you heard of the saying that all matter is mostly emptiness, sir?} she replied.“Refresh my memory.”{Atoms are over 99.9% empty space. If they were blown up to the size of a football stadium, the nucleus would be the size of a marble in the center, and the electrons would be microscopic specks of dust orbiting around the outside of the stadium in the parking lot. {So when mana is injected into matter, it fills that empty space up, like turning the entire stadium into a huge swimming pool, or perhaps
‘I wonder how skilled this guy is with his affinity,’ Aron thought as he broke past Mach eight. He was still tracking the little purple worm as he flew, even though it hadn’t stopped accelerating yet. ‘I can’t afford to be mind controlled. The empire can’t afford it....’Mind control was a truly problematic ability, one that Aron’s currently structured shield rune wouldn’t be able to fully protect him against until he took the time to adjust it and train with the new runic structure. Habit was both good and bad, and in the heat of battle, he really didn’t want to be using new runes that he hadn’t practiced with.The same could be said for the mind control tech that was on him, as there was a slight possibility that it would fail, and no matter how low the possibility is, it is not a good idea.Besides, he didn’t have time to modify it now regardless; the worm he was tracking was still speeding up.Everything would depend on whether or not the mana had taught Aron’s target. He certainl
Amarillo, Texas.In the Oakdale neighborhood of Amarillo was a shabby, dilapidated one-bedroom house. Its windows were boarded up and the outside was covered in graffiti, and the front lawn had overgrown with weeds until it spilled out over the curb and onto the street. Inside, a young man was sleeping on a pile of old U-Haul moving blankets.He opened his eyes, a purple glint flashing through them, and sat up. He pulled an old flip phone out of his pocket and called the imperial police agency’s non-emergency number, then reported that a homeless person was squatting in the house he was in, then sat back to wait for the police to arrive.A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door. The young man opened the door and, as he had expected, two men in neat imperial police uniforms were standing on the porch.The taller of the two officers gave a friendly smile and said, “Hello, sir. I’m Officer St. Pierre, and this is my partner, Officer Mendoza. We received a report that someone he
“Nova,” Aron called out.{Yes, sir?}“Can you reprogram the surveillance nanites to search for any explosive devices and disarm them?” he asked.{Yes. They’ve already spread through the entire city, so detection will be easy. But they’ll have to gather to disarm, won’t that mean we don’t have real-time eyes on all of the targets?} Nova said.“It depends on how many there are. If there’s just a few of them, we can call the bomb squad for disposal. If there are a lot, we’ll have to use the nanites.”{Understood, sir. I’ve reprogrammed them to search for explosive devices, the new scan will take a little over four minutes.}Aron nodded and turned over on his back, gazing up at the sky above him. It was daytime, so he couldn’t see the stars, but Nova helpfully overlaid them on his vision, knowing his habits as she did.The next few minutes passed in silence, then Nova said, {The scan is complete. The nanites found four explosives—one on the I-40/I-27 interchange, one at the airport, one a
“What’s the problem, Nova?” Aron asked.{Our Henry’s Eye sensors detected a very large surge of mana headed west from your location. It stopped in a local store a few miles away,} she replied.“Possibility of a false positive?”{Low, sir.}“I’ll check it out,” Aron said, then rose into the air and rocketed away in the direction of the mana surge.......Outskirts of Amarillo, Texas.Greg Bauer hummed as he paced up and down the aisles in the Tractor Supply Co. in Amarillo. He was a farmer, but today, he was buying things that no farmer needed. Or rather, things that no farmer needed in the amount he was buying them in.Every now and then as he came across something, his eyes would flash purple and, without thinking, he would dump it in his cart. He had already filled three carts and parked them at the front of the store for later checkout. It was to the point now that the employees had started giving him weird looks when they passed him while doing their routine tasks.Suddenly, he gr
Katrina Markov was sitting at a desk in a small, windowless room that had been used as a janitor’s closet before. To her left was a door and on the wall in front of her was a cork board filled with pictures, sticky notes, and small pieces of crumpled paper, napkins, and discarded cups. All of the items pinned to the board were connected by red strings; it looked like a conspiracy theorist’s dream.She’d had a bad feeling all day and needed to calm down. Looking at her “evidence board” was the way she took her mind off of problems and bad feelings, so she’d been in the room ever since Rick had retreated to his office with strict orders to leave him undisturbed.‘Who... who did it?’ she thought. She’d been investigating the murderer of her husband and child for four years, and had uncovered what she believed to be the tip of a conspiracy iceberg. Whether or not it actually was a conspiracy was debatable, to say the least, but at least she believed it to be one. What still eluded her, h
“Seraphina,” Aron began, his voice steady but carrying an undercurrent of authority, “I’m not your enemy—unless you choose to make me one. I understand your anger, your frustration. You’ve lost control of a situation you believed was firmly under your command. But this predicament wasn’t my doing—you’re here because your leader chose to sacrifice you. What I’m offering you isn’t a chain—it’s an opportunity.”Her sharp eyes narrowed, the intensity of her gaze unwavering, but she held her silence. Aron leaned forward, his own gaze unrelenting as it met hers.“You can continue resisting, pushing the boundaries of the mana oath, and enduring needless pain. Or…” He paused, letting the words linger like a challenge. “You can choose to turn this situation into one that serves us both. Your strength, your insight—these are not things I wish to suppress. Quite the opposite. I want them refined, amplified, and put to meaningful use.”He motioned toward the table, where Nova was still doing fina
[Colosseum]Aron and Seraphina stood motionless, maintaining the same distance as at the start of their faceoff. Neither had moved, even during the spectacular fireworks show that followed Aron’s acceptance of her surrender. The only exception was Aron briefly waving to the citizens of his empire watching the broadcast, many of whom were overcome with emotion, crying in celebration of their historic victory. This event marked the first-ever interstellar combat they had participated in, and despite their lack of experience, they emerged as the sole victors.As cheers of triumph reverberated among his people and the disbelief of others lingered, the broadcast concluded. The moment Aron secured his final victory, the Arena itself was officially handed over to him as part of his reward, along with control of the AI referee. Without hesitation, the AI complied with her new owner’s first command: to end the broadcast. Aron had more pressing matters to attend to—a private conversation with a
[Meeting Room]Inside the Zelvora mental network, an oppressive silence hung over the gathered representatives around the meeting table. The events of the day had left them all stunned, their minds racing with the implications of what had transpired. These were not just any representatives—they were the ones who had signed off on the agreements, the architects of their civilizations’ participation in this contest.Now, they were confronted with the brutal outcome of their decisions.Many representatives sat deep in thought, their faces betraying various degrees of fear, frustration, and resignation. Those who hailed from civilizations steeped in selfish political traditions knew all too well the grim truth: scapegoats would be needed. Someone would have to bear the brunt of the blame for the humiliation, anger, and setbacks their civilizations had suffered.For many of them, the path forward seemed bleak. In the best-case scenario, they might lose their positions, exiled from the corr
To say Aron was surprised would be the understatement of the gigaannum. The announcement had obliterated every scenario he had meticulously crafted in his mind. In all his time spent in simulations, preparing for countless contingencies, not once had he considered the possibility of the Xor’Vaks surrendering—least of all without a fight.Their pride in their strength was legendary, surpassing even the vaunted arrogance of the Valthorins. For a race that reveled in their dominance, surrendering, especially on such a grand stage, was unthinkable. This sudden reversal of expectations hit him with such force that he could practically feel the metaphorical veins in his temple throbbing from the sheer shock of it all.The audience’s collective astonishment mirrored his own, but none felt it as acutely as Aron, whose carefully laid strategies now seemed almost laughably over-prepared in the face of this unanticipated twist.The largest part of Aron's shock wasn’t just the surrender itself bu
The minutes passed quickly for the viewers, their eyes glued to Aron as he sat unmoving in the same meditative position for over fifteen minutes. Speculation ran rampant on both sides, fueled by curiosity and tension.For those in the Empire, the consensus was that Aron was in VR, likely meeting with family or key figures. Many debated who he might be speaking with, guessing that he was either calming worried loved ones or strategizing for the next fight.On the other hand, viewers from the Astral Conclave harbored a mix of anxiety and intrigue. They questioned whether Aron was recuperating in preparation for the upcoming battle, enhancing his focus and mental clarity, or if his recovery from the previous fight was incomplete and he was still in the process of healing.But their speculations ceased to matter as Aron opened his eyes with five minutes remaining in the waiting period. Calm and deliberate, he removed the glasses from his head, placing them back into their container. His n
The moment the fight was officially declared over, Nova acted without hesitation. She immediately dispatched the collector ship, equipped with a medipod, to retrieve the Trinarian fighter's body. Simultaneously, she ensured Aron could rearm himself with a fresh set of nanomachines. For the first time, this process was being done openly, marking a significant shift.Previously, nanomachines had been classified technology, their existence kept strictly under wraps. However, that secrecy had been unintentionally broken when Nova used them to cover Aron’s exposed body during a critical moment, prioritizing his dignity over confidentiality. As a result, while the technology remained shrouded in mystery, its existence was now officially acknowledged, albeit without disclosing any further details.Aron retrieved a small canister from the ship and opened it, revealing a liquid-like substance inside. Pouring it onto his hand, the substance behaved unnaturally, defying gravity as it began to sp
"Him alive is better than dead, right? I can use his live brain data to study how they use their spatial abilities—it might even help accelerate my plans if things go as intended," Aron said as he stood over the fainting Trinarian fighter.{True, having him alive presents opportunities. But dead men cause no problems, while the living carry infinite potential for chaos—especially one like him. If our spatial lockdown isn’t enough to fully contain his abilities, he could use them long enough to cause catastrophic damage, even if it means enduring the backlash,} Nova replied, her tone laced with caution. She wanted to ensure Aron was fully aware of the risks he was inviting by sparing the fighter's life.Usually, Nova would have been in favor of keeping him alive—it meant more data for her to process, analyze, and extrapolate from. But spatial ability users were in a league of their own when it came to danger. Even a dead one would yield enough data to at least satisfy her curiosity for
“Nova,” Aron called out in his mind the moment his eyes snapped open, rapidly collecting information and orienting himself, realizing he had finally left the enigmatic place the system had sent him.“Nova,” he called again, this time aloud, his voice carrying a commanding weight as it echoed faintly in the arena. Receiving no response to his first call, his sharp gaze shifted to his surroundings. It didn’t take long for him to notice his current state—nearly naked, save for the swarm of nanomachines that had begun assembling around him.{The system had ejected me, sir,} Nova’s voice finally came through, calm but slightly delayed as the nanomachines completed their task. They prioritized covering his lower body, forming a sleek pair of trousers, as there weren’t enough surviving nanomachines to reconstruct full armor. His chiseled upper body remained exposed, glistening under the lights of the Colosseum, much to the awe and unease of the spectators.Nova’s pragmatic choice left Aron l
Following Nova's orders and the AI referee's approval, the mana stone carriers swiftly began moving toward the Colosseum. As the first ship arrived and entered, it wasted no time, promptly unloading its entire cargo of mana stones before departing to make way for the next carrier to do the same. The process was conducted with remarkable efficiency, ensuring a steady flow of mana stones into the Colosseum without any unnecessary delays.The process continued as over fifty ships unloaded their cargo of mana stones, an act many from the Conclave viewed as both excessive and wasteful. With each successive ship, the pain of the Conclave's viewers grew, particularly when the fifth ship alone had already matched the quantity of mana stones used during the Colosseum's initial construction. Yet, they didn’t stop there; instead, they went on to unload ten times that amount, as if mana stones were an endless resource, leaving the Conclave citizens bewildered and horrified by such apparent extra