The Empire of Lucious was a name whispered with dread across the stars. Its legacy was one of tyranny and silence—where light dimmed and even the bravest dreams dared not take flight. The sun that once blessed the capital now filtered through clouds of smog, casting the city in a permanent twilight. Towers of smoke coiled above decaying factories, and walls bore the marks of rebellion long extinguished. Hope, it seemed, had fled long ago. But in the most unlikely corner of this broken empire, something extraordinary stirred.
In the crumbling district of Blackridge, where the air reeked of molten steel and soot, a child was born beneath a flickering overhead light and the hum of machinery. His name was Jack—a name chosen not from ancient prophecy or royal lineage, but from love. A quiet rebellion in itself.
Jack's parents, Aria and Caleb, were not warriors, nobles, or rebels by name. They were laborers—ordinary people with calloused hands and unbreakable spirits. Aria worked in the purification chambers, where toxic fumes were filtered—barely—before being released into the poisoned sky. Caleb maintained the machines that never stopped, even in death, for in Lucious, time belonged to the Empire. And yet, in the stolen moments between shifts and silence, they found each other—and in each other, found reason to hope.
They fell in love without ceremony or witnesses, under the buzz of defective lights and the watchful eye of surveillance drones. But what they shared was something the Empire could never take—a quiet defiance. It was in this defiance that Jack was born, and it was this defiance that shaped the boy's earliest memories.
Jack grew up not with toys or tales of fairies, but with whispered stories of forgotten star systems, of ancient guardians who once kept the galaxy in balance. His parents filled his nights with visions of worlds bathed in peace, not war. They taught him to read using forbidden books hidden behind hollow walls. They taught him to question, to listen, and above all, to remember.
From a young age, Jack watched the world with careful eyes. He saw the shadow of oppression stretching far and wide. The soldiers in their blackened armor were everywhere—emotionless enforcers of Lucious's will. People disappeared overnight. Children grew quiet too soon. But Jack, unlike many, noticed the cracks in the walls, the whispered warnings passed through the markets, the fleeting signs of silent resistance.
One night, a fierce wind howled through the abandoned windows of the factory where his parents had found shelter. Dust swirled like ghosts, and the cold bit into their bones. Jack, barely six, huddled between them. As the gusts grew louder, sounding almost like voices from another world, Aria and Caleb held each other close—and they dreamed. They dreamed of an empire that didn't destroy, but protected. One that didn't enslave, but uplifted. And from that night on, the idea of the Galaxy Guardian Empire was born—not in politics or weapons, but in belief.
It began with whispers. Coded messages sent through repair droids. Meetings disguised as maintenance shifts. Aria began collecting data on troop movements; Caleb forged alliances with former rebels long thought dead. They were no longer just workers—they were architects of a future unseen.
Jack, even as a child, became part of their quiet mission. He learned how to decipher maps, memorize surveillance routes, and blend in. While other children feared the soldiers, Jack observed them. He learned their habits, their hierarchies, and their faults. His mind, sharp and restless, absorbed everything—especially the stories of the old galaxy his parents shared.
He would sit at night with his father, staring at the sky through the cracks in th toe factory roof, trying to see past the smoke. "One day," Caleb whispered, "you'll see more than just clouds. You'll see stars—and beyond them, purpose."
By the time Jack was a teenager, he no longer saw himself as just a survivor. He was a seedling of revolution—growing quietly, patiently, in the most infertile soil.
But with knowledge came danger.
The Empire of Lucious did not tolerate curiosity. Suspicion had begun to grow. Drones lingered longer near their home. A neighbor disappeared after asking too many questions. The network Aria and Caleb had built was under threat, but they did not stop. If anything, their resolve deepened.
For they believed—not just in their vision, but in their son.
They taught Jack that true power did not lie in weapons or fear, but in purpose, in unity, and in the courage to imagine something better. The Galaxy Guardian Empire would not be born in bloodshed alone, but in ideals that outlived bullets.
As the chapter of Jack's early life closed, a storm began to brew in the heart of Lucious. The spark that had ignited in that cold, dusty factory was beginning to catch flame. Across the galaxy, whispers of rebellion stirred once more.
Jack's path would not be easy. Betrayal, war, and sacrifice lay ahead. But his legacy—the legacy of a boy born in the darkest corner of the cruelest empire—had already begun.
And in time, the galaxy would come to know him not as a factory child, but as the founder of a new hope.
Sneak peak of chapter 2 ;
The school's walls were adorned with propaganda posters, featuring the empire's leader, Emperor Xandros, with his piercing gaze and stern expression. The students were taught to revere him as a god, and any dissent or questioning of his authority was met with swift punishment.
Jack's teachers, clad in black uniforms with silver accents, patrolled the aisles, their eyes scanning the students for any sign of weakness or deviation. They emphasized the importance of loyalty, duty, and sacrifice, drilling it into the students' minds that the empire's survival depended on their unwavering dedication.
(There was scene i cut )
apologized profusely, expecting punishment. But to his surprise, the boy smiled and introduced himself as Max.
Sorry that where it ends. if you notice any errors including my bad grammar😅 leave a comment