Zamuku Rises: The Crown Below
Six months after Queen Saumu declared the fallen Vhalar world as Zamuku, the capital war colony of the Uli system, the underground megacities were complete.
What once were fertile plains and sacred groves were now ringed with massive excavation ports, guarded by shadowforged sentinels. From those ports descended vast elevator chambers into the subterranean heart of the Mahasimu's new dominion.
Each strata-city was a living monument to shadow, carved from obsidian and fused with psionically-imbued crystal.
The Four Core Megacities of Zamuku:
Obris Kalari – The Womb of Labor: A vast industrial hub with tiered manufacturing lines, clone-vaults, and bio-mechanical assembly chambers. Thousands of enslaved Vhalar toiled here, their chants reprogrammed into Mahasimu work-hymns. Overseen by mechanized taskmasters and aura-scribes, it was where the Empire's war machine breathed.
Urathi Varn – The Fangs of War: A brutal military stronghold, shaped like a downward-pointing spear. It trained the next generation of Mahasimu warriors—both natural-born and mind-forged. Shadow legions sparred in its gladiatorial rings, while commanders etched their battle doctrines into its blacksteel walls.
Nyx'thalor – The Vault of Thought: Home to psion-scholars, seers, and shadow-engineers. Here, Liora's scientists and Kia's technologists fused Mahasimu knowledge with scavenged Vhalar secrets. It hummed with energy, its core powered by a quantum rift-stone believed to have been unearthed from the planet's own hollowed soul.
Santhira – The Spine of Faith: The deepest and most sacred city. Enshrined within it were temples to the Ancient Queen and Saumu herself. Shadow priests chanted, their voices never ceasing. Shailia oversaw its ceremonies—ritual indoctrinations, soul-bindings, and communion with the deeper dark.
At the center of it all stood the Throne Core, an obsidian nexus chamber linking all four cities through shadow portals. This is where Queen Saumu ruled, her presence radiating like a black sun.
The Indoctrination of Kara and Moro
Beneath the Giza Mtuji, within Santhira's Veil-Chambers, two bound figures were dragged into the lightless sanctum—Kara and Moro, the last noble siblings of the Vhalar resistance.
Their bodies were stripped, scarred from lashes, starvation, and exposure to shadow-radiance. Chains of crystal-shard ore clamped around their wrists and ankles, constantly siphoning their spiritual essence.
Shailia, eyes aglow with cold psionic fire, approached them.
"You are now under the Mahasimu faith," she intoned, her voice drilling directly into their minds. "Your resistance is shattered. Your gods are forgotten. But you may still serve."
The shadow priests began their work. Kara and Moro were forced to their knees before the shrine of Saumu. From there, psionic waves lashed into their consciousness—visions of a galaxy already conquered, worlds kneeling, entire races remade.
Images of Mahasimu warriors marching across dying stars, of shadow queens ascending temples of bone and crystal, burned themselves into their minds.
"You will be her tools," Shailia whispered into Kara's ear. "And you, Moro… will learn to kneel—not as a prince, but as a weapon."
Hours turned into days.
The siblings screamed, resisted, fought—but each psionic strike carved deeper. Slowly, defiance turned to confusion. Confusion to despair. Despair to compliance.
By the seventh night, they had spoken the oaths.
"I am the breath of her will, the blade of her word. My light is gone. I am Mahasimu."
Their chains were not removed. But now they wore the robes of the bound initiate—no longer rebels, but servants. Broken. Reforged.
Their final purpose: to serve the one who would soon arrive.
The Arrival of Princess Safi
As the megacities roared with life and the indoctrinated Vhalar began functioning as docile worker-slaves, a new shadow entered orbit.
The Obsidian Star, a sleek and lethal command vessel, emerged from hyperspace cloaked in eclipse energy. Its hull gleamed with ancient sigils—the sigils of the Ancient Queen's bloodline.
At its head stood Princess Safi, the newly forged daughter of the shadow, and Saumu's youngest sister—birthed from void and flame by matriarchal decree.
She descended from the command ramp in ceremonial armor adorned with refined void-crystals, each pulse echoing the rhythms of the deep throne.
Flanking her were her Four Elite Royal Guards:
Amani – The Fearless, a brutal shocktrooper whose fists shattered bone with joy.
Roko – The Silent Shadow, master infiltrator, rarely seen except in the death that followed.
Jalia – The Elemental, her psionic control of fire and shadow bending reality around her.
Omari – The Enforcer, whose axe split rebels and terrain alike.
Behind them walked Lady Thalia, Safi's closest advisor. Draped in flowing shadow-silk, Thalia's psionic senses pulsed softly—always watching.
Inside the central command dome, Saumu stood waiting, her throne raised above the black mirror floor. The moment Safi stepped inside, the shadows stirred in quiet approval.
"Mother's daughter," Saumu said, descending from her seat.
"You are ready to forge your own shadows?"
Safi bowed, then met her sister's gaze.
"As you command. The shadows speak through me now. I will expand our reach—without hesitation."
Saumu approached, placing a hand on her sister's shoulder.
"Then let us begin. The galaxy will soon learn what it means to kneel—not to one queen, but to a dynasty of living night."
Together, they turned to face the war table. Around them, the shadow galaxy burned in miniature.
Next Moves: Shadows Beyond Zamuku
With the Obsidian Star integrated into the fleet, and Princess Safi ready to assume her command, Queen Saumu made her next declaration:
Expand supply chains from Zamuku to the outer asteroid fields and neighboring moons.
Construct hidden outposts—listening stations and ritual engines to psionically scour nearby systems for weaknesses.
Deploy scouts and infiltrators to claim unguarded worlds for shadow terraforming.
"This planet is our keystone," Saumu said to her commanders. "Our first and not our last. From Zamuku, we stretch outward—and when the stars speak of resistance, we smother their tongues in ash."
The war engine moved again.
The Vhalar were gone.
And now, across the galaxy, other peoples would begin to hear whispers in their dreams. Whispers from the dark:
"The Mahasimu are coming."