The Vault activation was the signal.
Not just to the satellites watching in eternal orbit. Not just to the hidden directors buried deep in the fortified halls of Null Authority.
It was a summons to something older. Something darker.
It was a call to the Null Sanctum itself.
The moment the ancient seals disengaged, the tone of the war shifted.
They no longer asked how Damien Thorne survived the Purge of Ascendants. They no longer wondered why Subject 000 shattered every projected limitation.
Now, in quiet boardrooms and fortified bunkers, they whispered only one question:
"How do we end them all?"
DIRECTIVE: PLANETARY CONQUEST
Project Title: Unified Obedience
Objective: Control through fear, compliance through force.
Phase One: Eradicate Vael'Tris — every stronghold, every rebel lineage, every ember of resistance.
Phase Two: Rewrite planetary law — obedience becomes not just law, but instinct.
Final Directive:One rule. Null.
Operation: Ghost Soldiers
From the charred remains of failed clone banks. From the malformed husks of spliced children left to dissolve in nutrient vats. From the genetic dust of Subject 000's incomplete genome—
They forged an army.
They called them Ghost Soldiers.
Cloned from the jagged fragments of Subject 000's DNA. Stitched together with experimental fusion serums. Injected with pain-nullifiers until their nerves learned silence.
Emotionless. Sleepless. Speechless.
They do not scream. They do not question. They do not stop—unless you destroy the brain stem or obliterate the chest-core.
Even then, some crawl. One was recorded dragging itself across molten glass with both legs severed, its jaw locked in death-grin, still clawing for its target.
And Then Came… Him.
The Null Sanctum didn't speak of him outside closed channels. In their files, he was Subject Ω. Among the soldiers, he was simply The Apex. To the Directors, he had one purpose and one name:
Codename: GOD-KILLER.
Chronological Age: 3
Physical Maturity: 23
Mental Calibration: Flawless
Fusion Compatibility: 100%
Pain Response: None
Instinct Suppression: Failed
Emotion Regulation: Failed
Control Risk Level: MAXIMUM
He was never supposed to survive.
The others like him—child prototypes—died in agony. Some aged to dust in days. Others screamed until their throats ruptured.
But this one…This one smiled as his skeleton reshaped itself, as his muscle fibers tore and reknit stronger.
At one year old, he tore open his containment vat with bare hands. At two, he killed his first handler, crushing the man's windpipe with a casual squeeze.
Now at three years old, he stands built like a demigod—every tendon, every vein, every inch of him a weapon.
He does not speak. He does not need to.
There is only one voice in his mind:
"Kill the Starborn."
He is not another disposable Ghost Soldier. He is not a failed attempt at replication.
He is Null's perfect countermeasure to Damien Thorne:
Flesh sculpted from rage. Muscle fed by pure ambition. A soul born without mercy.
Null's Invasion Begins
From the cold silence of orbit, the invasion falls like a storm.
Atmosphere breaks. Air ignites.
Drop-pods scream through the sky—Ghost Soldiers, thousands of them, smashing into Vael'Tris soil. Behind them, towering Sub-Generals engineered with apex predator DNA—scaled, clawed, eyes burning with synthetic hunger.
And then—
A single capsule. Forged from obsidian alloy. Heavier. Faster. A killing spear aimed at the planet's heart.
Inside, the God-Killer waits in shadow. His heartbeat is slow, measured—each thump a countdown.
When the locks disengage, steam spills into the pod. His eyes open—two pits of cold hunger.
And in the first and last words he will ever speak before the war begins, he says only:
"I will make Thorne, bleed."