The little one had just pulled off something unbelievable, something so shocking that even he couldn't quite process it afterward. Yet Angie, still curled up in her sleep, remained blissfully unaware of what had just transpired.
The world outside their tent was quiet, the natural rhythm of the night humming with peace. Angie breathed evenly, her face softened with calm, though somewhere in her dreams she shifted, as if sensing something faintly amiss. She stirred, but did not wake.
A moment later, the flap of the tent rustled. The little guy slipped back inside, sneaking in as silently as he could. His small body was trembling with exhaustion, but when he burrowed into Angie's arms, that unease he'd been carrying faded away. Curling against her warmth, he sighed, rubbed at his lower belly in half-conscious relief, scratched absently at his backside, and then—finally—collapsed into deep sleep.
For him, the night had been overwhelming. Destroying the remnants of the Old Gods, tearing through the experimental base, and burning through nearly all his mental reserves had left his young mind and body drained. His eyelids fluttered shut the moment he touched the safety of Angie's embrace, and before long he slipped into dreamland.
Far away, Bella had no idea what her little companion had achieved. She was still drifting among the stars, journeying through the vast reaches of the cosmos. Her current destination was a neutral planet, one tucked within the distant galaxy known as X486.
This world had a reputation. Here, light, chaos, and noise ruled every corner. The planet acted as a hub for mercenaries and space pirates. After completing bloody contracts, raiding colonies, or pulling off a daring plunder, these rogues would inevitably drift toward X486.
The reason was simple: it was one of the few neutral worlds where no great empire, no interstellar council, dared impose strict law. What was earned—whether through coin or carnage—was meant to be spent.
The neon-drenched streets reflected this truth. Bars thundered with music and shouting. Gladiator pits turned slaves into spectacle, forcing men and women to fight for survival while jeering crowds bet fortunes on their fates. In every shadow, deals were struck. Smugglers sold black-market goods stripped from merchant fleets, pirates traded plunder, mercenaries blew their bloodstained profits on drink, flesh, or narcotics.
This was X486. A planet both alive and rotting.
But like all things in the universe, it had two faces. The underworld teemed in the alleys, yet above that grime rose towers of obscene luxury. On an island at the edge of the planet's ocean sat a hundred-story hotel built by one of the most powerful factions in the galaxy. Here, the wealthy and influential hid from the chaos, indulging themselves in safety while staring out over breathtaking landscapes sculpted by both nature and artifice. Massive trees curved toward the sky, carefully cultivated to give the island a wild beauty, while genetically engineered animals roamed the forests for the amusement of guests.
Bella sat on the top floor of that very hotel.
The dining hall was vast, its crystal walls framing the sea beyond the island. She leaned back in her chair, savoring a meal so rich it could bankrupt a mercenary squadron. Each bite was crafted by alien chefs, each glass of wine worth a pirate's ship. But Bella didn't flinch at the expense. To her, wealth was simply another weapon.
She had earned her place here not with coin, but with strength.
Not long ago, she had slain a hundred Mossas—towering monsters of scale and fang—without backup, without fleets, without technology to hide behind. On that planet, conventional weapons had been useless; only brute power had meaning. And Bella had proven herself beyond all doubt. Her battle had spread across mercenary channels like wildfire, cementing her reputation as a warrior not to be trifled with.
Though she did not boast, others did it for her. Quill, ever the chatterbox, had loudly shared tales of her battle while drinking on black market worlds. He even flaunted the profits he made selling a stolen Mossa egg, using her name to inflate the story. By the time the tale spread across a dozen systems, Bella's legend had grown larger than life.
She didn't care much about the fame. What mattered was that it gave her access. Access to places like this hotel. Access to opportunities usually reserved for warlords, pirate kings, or aristocrats of the stars.
Bella placed her utensils down for a moment, staring into her glass as a flicker of frustration rose within her.
Her mind drifted to her current state of power:
Catherine Isa Bella
Strength: A+
Stamina: A+
Agility: A+
Magic Release: A+
Mental Power: A+
Luck: A+
Noble Phantasms:Bloody Rose (False), Goddess of War (False), Black Contract Victory Sword (True), Black Light Armor (True)
Skills: Riding A+, Intuition A+, Temperament A+
On paper, it looked like perfection. Each stat sat at the threshold of the extraordinary. Her luck had broken through to the rare A+ after defeating over three hundred Mossa beasts, pushing her toward the level of legends.
And yet, Bella knew the truth: numbers did not tell the whole story.
Though her attributes glowed at the A+ tier, she could feel in her bones that she had reached the edge of a plateau. Strength, magic, speed—all had indeed doubled compared to before, yet her soul whispered that the next step would demand something entirely new. It would not be as simple as killing more beasts or pushing her body harder.
She had entered the realm known as Sub-Heavenly Father level, the threshold of galactic dominion. At this tier, most creatures and warriors in the galaxy could no longer push her further. To truly ascend, her opponents needed to be her equals—or greater.
And those were rare.
Her thoughts naturally drifted to one infamous figure: Thanos.
The Mad Titan was a name that carried dread across half the galaxy. He, too, was considered Sub-Heavenly Father class. By raw statistics, he didn't quite meet the standard of the true Heavenly Father level, yet his cunning and resources made him more dangerous than most who did.
Bella believed she could defeat him in single combat. Her instincts, sharpened by countless battles, whispered she had the edge. But Thanos never fought alone. His endless armies, his advanced fleets, his mastery of probability and strategy—those made him far more than his base power suggested.
She set her glass down with a sigh.
Even if I can win against him, the road ahead isn't that simple.
The higher she climbed, the narrower the path became. Each step forward demanded challenges few could even survive. She was beginning to realize that to rise further, she would need to fight not just monsters, but beings who had already carved their names into the cosmos.
The weight of that truth pressed down on her chest as the luxurious dining hall around her echoed with laughter, clinking glasses, and music. To the others here, this was paradise. To her, it was merely a pause. A temporary rest before the storm that was sure to come.
Down below, on the dirty streets of X486, mercenaries bled and pirates roared, slaves fought for scraps and gamblers lost fortunes. The divide between filth and luxury, chaos and power, was sharper here than anywhere else in the galaxy.
But Bella belonged in neither world entirely. She had clawed her way out of the chaos, yet she was not content to simply lounge among the elite.
She was chasing something higher. Something beyond Sub-Heavenly Father.
And though she didn't yet know it, the universe was already beginning to shift around her, setting the stage for battles that would demand more than even her current strength could offer.
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