The ministers stood frozen, their eyes flickering between the damaged Oracle Drive and their Empress, who was still kneeling on the runic platform. She was shaken and silent. Not a single one of them dared to speak; the air was thick with unease.
Although the Oracle Drive was a relic of unfathomable power, it now floated, damaged, with its rings broken. This fact echoed through the minds of all who witnessed it, stirring the same chilling question:
"What kind of force could shatter the Oracle Drive, a cosmic artifact that had guided the Vereti Empire for eons?"
One minister finally stepped forward, his voice hesitant. "Your Majesty… what did you see?"
Quintessa didn't answer at first. Her gaze remained fixed on the cracks in the Oracle drive suspended before her as if searching for answers that refused to come. Then, slowly, she turned her head toward the minister.
"Destruction. A force beyond reason. The laws of our universe unraveling like loose threads," she murmured as she clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms as a bitter realization settled in. "And we are not prepared; they came like an evil surprise."
Gasps rippled through the gathered ministers. Some exchanged nervous glances while others stiffened, waiting for her next command.
One of the older ministers stepped forward, his voice urgent. "Then… then we must act! If this threat is beyond us, we must seek allies! We must—"
"No—" Quintessa interrupted, her voice regaining a sliver of its usual authority. But she stopped herself before continuing. She realized that if she fully explained the horrors she witnessed and the "overwhelming force," she trembled at the thought of it.
They might not even have the courage to fight; they would be like chickens ready to be butchered easily. So it was better if they at least put up a fight and die courageously.
Quintessa exhaled slowly, regaining her usual composure. Although the weight of despair still pressed upon her, but she refused to succumb to it. Her empire had not endured for eons by surrendering to fear.
One of the younger ministers stepped forward hesitantly. "Y-Your Majesty… is there any way to fight this?" His voice wavered, betraying the fear he barely held back.
As she heard the minister's question, her mind began to race. "There has to be a solution," she said firmly, standing tall. "Our empire was built on knowledge and preparation. We do not break easily." Her resolve was returning; she was the empress for a reason.
The initial shock of the invaders' overwhelming power had left her momentarily unsteady. Still, she was an empress, and empresses did not falter as she remembered that the lives of trillions of her subjects were on her, and her as their leader, should not be easily defeated before the war even began.
She turned to her ministers, her sharp gaze sweeping over them. "Summon the High Scholars and the Grand Strategists. If we cannot see our enemy clearly, we must force them into the light."
The older ministers exchanged wary glances. "You mean… provoke it?" one of them asked cautiously.
Quintessa nodded. "If we can observe the source of this disturbance, we can study it. If we can study it, we can understand it. And if we can understand it, we can destroy it."
"But how do we provoke something we don't even see?" another minister asked.
Quintessa's eyes darkened with resolve. "By using what we do know," she said. "The Oracle Drive may have been damaged, but it gave me a knowledge of what would happen, which is that the laws are being eroded.
That means something is exerting influence over them. We will identify the exact locations where the laws are weakening the fastest and send our best minds to decode what is happening."
One minister, still uncertain, hesitated before speaking. "And… if it turns out that we are already too late?"
Quintessa turned to him, her gaze steady. "Then we do what we have always done. We fight."
The ministers straightened. Their empress was right. Their empire had weathered countless cosmic threats before—this would be no different.
A seasoned general stepped forward and bowed. "Then let us begin immediately, Your Majesty. We will not let the empire fall."
A sense of purpose filled the air. Orders were given, and messengers were dispatched. Across the empire, scholars and strategists were mobilized, preparing to unravel the mystery of the collapsing laws.
Quintessa turned her gaze skyward as the ministers dispersed, where the stars burned cold and distant. She knew this was only the beginning of the end.
••••
A few light years away from the cosmic door, the egg Lex brought in was eerily hovering silently in the void of space.
Then—Thum!
It pulsed like a heartbeat, the space around it quivered, reality itself bending for the briefest moment. Then—Thum! Thum! The sound continuously echoed from the egg; the sound increased in frequency at a faster rate.
The runes carved into the egg's surface slithered and shifted, their glow intensifying like veins surging with dark energy.
Then, a crack thin as a barely noticeable as hairline appeared and spread.
THUM! Another pulse. The crack deepened, glowing with an eerie light. Inside, the entity awakened. The weak consciousness that Lex had sensed before was no longer weak.
Within seconds, the living eggshell cracked open fully, unveiling a small, spindly creature no larger than a human child. It was fragile, its pale, translucent exoskeleton pulsing with visible veins beneath the surface. Yet, despite its delicate appearance, it was born with an insatiable hunger.
Instinct took over. It latched onto the cracked shells and began devouring them, its tiny mouth tearing through the organic material with fervor. With each bite, its body expanded, its form swelling with newfound mass. Intelligence flickered in its mind, primitive yet growing.
Minutes passed, and as the last fragments of the shell vanished into its maw, its once-soft body hardened. The fragile skin gave way to a chitinous armor, its surface lined with faint bioluminescent cracks that pulsed with eerie light.
Then, its body convulsed.
With a sickening series of cracks and snaps, legs erupted from its worm-like torso, reshaping it into an insectoid horror. Its form became sleeker, its movements more deliberate. Its reptilian frame twitched as instinctual impulses surged through its being.
It lifted its head, mandibles clicking, and then released a warbling, almost human cry. Then, its jaw split open, and the cry became a chittering roar that echoed like a thousand starving insects.
Though its mind had yet to develop fully, one truth had already taken root: it existed to consume.
But the surrounding space was barren thanks to the cosmic door's previous actions.
The remnants of the egg, a viscous, living substance, coalesced in the surrounding void, swirling and merging into a planet-like mass. The young Zerg Queen, drawn by instinct, crawled into its center.
There, deep within its forming depths, it settled and began to lay its eggs.
•••••
The Forbidden Sector:
A massive mechanical planet drifted serenely in the void of space, its colossal form encased within a shimmering translucent barrier—a last line of defense against the unknown.
At its northern pole, a vast circular opening led into its depths, where numerous spaceships continuously docked and departed like veins feeding a living machine.
But the true heart of the Forbidden Sector lay at the planet's core.
There, within an impenetrable chamber, sat the Fate chamber —a place where the universe's most powerful beings gathered to decide its course.
Eighteen thrones lined the chamber, each belonging to a figure of immense influence, their very laws woven into the fabric of the chamber. No divination, no technology, and no force could penetrate its defenses. The fate of galaxies had been shaped within these walls.
Outside the chamber, the artificial lights flickered. A figure appeared above the mechanical planet for an instant, then vanished, only to reappear before the sealed doors of the Fate chamber.
"It has been eons since I last set foot here," the figure murmured, gazing toward the left as a shadow detached itself from the darkness.
"Indeed, it has," the second figure replied in a voice laced with nostalgia. "I remember it as if it were yesterday."
Before the conversation could continue, another presence materialized—then another. One by one, they arrived until eighteen figures stood before the entrance.
Among them were familiar faces: Emperor Vorex of the Greti Empire, Empress Quintessa of Vereti, and the Ancient robot. They had gathered here several times in the past to shape the fate of the universe and the fate of countless creatures.
But today, they were not here to decide the fate of the universe or the fate of the mortal creatures; they had come together to save themselves.
The ancient robot strode forward and opened the sealed door, and then they each sat on their throne.
A heavy silence filled the Fate chamber.
Eighteen thrones sat in a perfect circle, each occupied by a ruler whose name alone could make galaxies tremble. Their meetings normally decided the fate of civilizations and the rise and fall of empires.
But today, they were not here to dictate the course of the universe.
They were here because something had forced their hand. Emperor Vorex was the first to speak. Seated upon his throne, his eyes swept across the room.
"It seems fate has finally turned against us," said Emperor Vorex.
A soft scoff came from the opposite side. Empress Quintessa, poised and elegant, draped in a silver armor dress, leaned back on her throne.
"Fate? Don't be ridiculous, Vorex. We are here because something beyond fate has emerged."
The Ancient Machine, its metallic frame still bearing the scars of old wars, hummed with unreadable data streams.
"Universal laws have been disrupted." Its mechanical voice was cold and absolute. "The laws of the universe are no longer stable."
A ripple of unease passed through the chamber. These were beings who had ruled for eons, who had bent existence itself to their will. And yet, something had shaken even them.
A deep, guttural voice rumbled from High Lord Fridi, his obsidian exoskeleton pulsing with contained energy. He exhaled slowly and asked, "Then let's not waste time. Who among us has seen it?"
Quintessa tapped a finger against her throne and said without hesitation, "I have."
The weight of her words made the chamber still. All eyes turned toward her. Quintessa closed her eyes briefly; the vision from the shattered Oracle Drive still burned into her mind.
She took a steady breath before speaking.
As she recounted her experience, the room grew eerily silent. They listened intently, their expressions darkening with every word. When she finally revealed that she had been injured without even seeing the one who attacked her, a ripple of unease spread across the chamber.
For beings of their caliber—each one of them being an apex existence; this was unheard of.
They were equals, their strength not vastly different from one another. If something could wound Quintessa without even showing itself, then what did that mean for them?
And if she told them the truth—that she hadn't been attacked, but merely warned, and even that had left her wounded…
Would they retreat? Would they attempt to hide?
But where?
In this vast, boundless universe, there was nowhere they could run.
A voice finally broke the tense silence. "What can we do?" one of them asked grimly.
Another scoffed, remembering her words, "So even jumping to different timelines wouldn't save us. What options do we have?"
The room fell silent again.
Then Quintessa spoke.
"'They' are using small cosmic monsters." Her voice was firm, calculating. "If we eliminate all of these creatures, we may reach a stalemate, buying us enough time to find another method."
Now, all eyes were locked on her. The Ancient robot leaned forward, its mechanical eyes flickering.
"What do you know about these cosmic monsters? How many are there—millions? Billions? What is their average strength?"
Quintessa shook her head. "I don't have an estimate on their total numbers." Her voice was steady, but there was a hint of frustration.
"The one I encountered was weak, considerably so, compared to us. But compared to mortals?"
She paused, then continued. "They are powerful. Too powerful."
Minutes passed as she continued her report, detailing every fragment of information she had gathered.
Then, a sudden, excited voice cut through the air. "You said… perfect genetic code?"
All eyes turned toward the speaker—a figure notorious for their obsession with genetics and evolution. Their eyes gleamed with an almost manic curiosity.
"Yes," Quintessa confirmed. "Their genes were perfect as if their limiters had been removed."
The geneticist's fingers twitched in excitement. "Fascinating… but which limiter? Strength? Intelligence? Evolution itself?" Their voice quickened. "Did you analyze further?"
Quintessa's expression turned sharp.
"I warn you—do not attempt to fully study them when you encounter one." Her tone was grave. "If we are not careful, we may lose one of our few remaining weapons against them."
The geneticist let out a short laugh. "I'm not that reckless. I know when to stop."
Silence. The others stared at him.
They did not believe a word he said.
Then, another voice, a soft yet authoritative one, a female figure whose very presence carried an undeniable power, said, "We need more information, Quintessa. How long until you can use your Oracle Drive again?"
Her voice was calm, but beneath it, there was urgency. "I can feel it—we are running out of time. Do not worry about energy. We will handle that."
Quintessa let out a slow breath. "Energy is the least of my concerns with all of you here." She hesitated for a moment, then continued.
"But the Oracle Drive was damaged. My scientists are repairing it… it may take at least half a cosmic year."
A chill settled over the room.
Half a cosmic year.
Would they even have that much time left