John opened his eyes—or at least, he thought he did. He didn't remember closing them. He was groggy and disoriented. His apartment was gone, replaced by an endless expanse of neon-lit hieroglyphic-looking symbols, shifting and rearranging in fluid motion. His vision was blurry, a kaleidoscope of colors washing over him as he felt himself tumbling through the void.
Amidst the swirling luminescence, he caught glimpses of figures—ephemeral yet imposing, their forms both ancient and unfamiliar. The first was a regal Egyptian warrior queen, her headdress adorned with golden cobras and sapphire inlays. Then, a Roman commander, his crimson cloak billowing behind him as he stood at the head of a vast legion. A red-haired Celtic woman, her eyes fierce, wrapped in a cloak of emerald, moved like a shadow through the chaos. A giant Greek wolf warrior howled into the void, his armor shimmering like polished obsidian.
The visions continued—an unstoppable Mongolian rider charging forward atop a thunderous steed, a Roman emperor surveying his dominion with cold calculation, a Moroccan general whose aura radiated power and wisdom. A Nubian warrior-queen, her dark skin gleaming with celestial patterns, stood with an aura of divine authority. Then, a powerful, bald Nubian-Mesoamerican warrior with dragon-like wings unfurled, his body glowing with raw energy, his eyes locking onto John's as if recognizing him across time.
John gasped, the sheer force of their presence pressing against his mind. Who were they? And why did he feel as if he knew them?
And then, a figure emerged from the void.
She was tall, cloaked in regal black and gold garments adorned with intricate Egyptian embroidery, her shoulders draped in a shimmering royal mantle fastened by a golden scarab brooch. A tall, ornate headdress crowned her head, reminiscent of ancient pharaohs, its golden trim catching the neon light. Her eyes—electric blue, just like his—pierced through the shifting haze of the battlefield.
Around her, the futuristic Egyptian courtyard pulsed with unnatural energy, golden obelisks humming with power as the pyramid's electrified tip sent crackling currents into the air. The battlefield was chaos—warriors in ornate Egyptian armor clashed with an advancing Greek army, their polished bronze shields gleaming under the strange glow of the pyramid. Energy crackled around her fingertips, and the air smelled of something incendiary, something powerful.
"You're a Prime, you may be the most underwhelming man I've ever seen" she said, her voice a perfect synthesis of human and machine. "You have been brought here through Maux Prime Nexus. You must be a Prime or the most capable man in the Maux lineage alive.Pick up a sword and fight for your family."
John swallowed. "Uh… yeah, family? not sure if you're serious or… who are you?"
The woman extended a hand, her fingers shimmering with energy. "You have two choices. Fight or die."
John hesitated. He glanced around at the battlefield and all of the death and destruction in front of him. The gold-tipped pyramids and pulsating obelisks, this place that felt eerily familiar,like a dream he'd had but could never recall. His heart pounded in his chest.
Then, he took her hand and picked up a khopesh-styled sword, the closest weapon within reach.
The moment John grasped the sword's handle, the sky above the pyramid split open. A blinding column of golden lightning slammed into his chest, sending a deafening crack through the battlefield. His body convulsed, every nerve igniting as though he had been plugged directly into the core of a star.
His right eye flared open, burning with an unnatural golden glow. Symbols spiraled in his iris, shifting and morphing faster than he could comprehend. A surge of ancient knowledge flooded his mind—maps of long-lost cities, blueprints of weapons never built, battle cries in languages he had never spoken yet somehow understood.
Bella Reina's electric-blue gaze narrowed, watching him with unreadable intent. The remaining warriors around her faltered, shifting uneasily as golden tendrils of raw power crackled around John's body.
Then, the Torox warriors surged forward, breaking through the last line of defense. Their war cries merged into a chaotic roar—until John let go of his fears and focused on the task at hand.
A shockwave detonated from John's chest, a pulse of golden energy radiating outward in all directions. The first wave of Torox warriors froze mid-charge, their bodies flickering, trapped in a state between existence and oblivion. Their expressions twisted in horror as cracks splintered across their armor, golden light spilling through like lava seeping from fractured stone.
Time seemed to slow and seemed to bend. The battlefield warping as if rejecting reality itself. The combatants' expressions twisted in terror as cracks formed across their armor, light seeping through. Then—without a sound—they shattered, reduced to swirling golden dust that dispersed into the air like scattered embers.
Silence fell.
The battlefield, once a chaotic maelstrom, had stilled as though the very air held its breath. The surviving Torox warriors staggered backward, their weapons trembling in their hands.
John fell to his knees dropping the sword with his head bowed, trying his best to remain conscious. The brunt of the power he unleashed had clearly taken a toll.
Bella Reina took a step closer to John as to rally around him, her expression unreadable. She whispered, "So you are a Prime… or at least part of their bloodline."
Then, the ground trembled. Symbols along the golden pyramid flickered erratically, as if reacting to the power John had just unleashed. A hum—low, resonant, ancient—vibrated through the air.
The ground beneath John's feet cracked. The hum deepened. The symbols on the pyramid spasmed in rapid succession, as if responding to an unseen presence. The force caused the air itself to ripple. From the heart of the battlefield, electromagnetic pulses began to crackle and swell.
Then, the sky twisted. A deep, guttural sound—not human, not of this world—rumbled through the air.
The commander of the Torox, Rex Lucius, stiffened. His face, once defiant, shifted to something darker—fear.
Rex Lucius, took an involuntary step back, his golden-plated boots scraping against the scorched battlefield. His crimson cape billowed as he turned his gaze toward John, his expression shifting from disbelief to something far more dangerous. He clenched his jaw, his fingers twitching near the hilt of his blade as though considering one final strike.
"Impossible," he whispered, voice raw with restrained fury. The glow of the pyramid reflected in his dark eyes as he finally tore his gaze from John and barked, "Fall back! Now!"
"Enjoy your hollow victory, Reina," he spat across the battlefield, his voice thick with menace. "You think this is over? That thing—" he gestured toward John, still writhing on the ground, "—won't survive what's coming. This was just the first wave. Next time, he won't be breathing by the time I leave."
The remaining Torox forces boarded their ships and took flight escaping defeat.
Bella rushed to John's side, sinking to her knees, the golden sand beneath her shifting with the weight of her armor. Carefully, she lifted John's limp body, cradling his head in her palm as his breath came in ragged gasps. His skin was warm—too warm, as though his body still pulsed with residual energy. Her emerald eyes scanned his face, searching for some sign of recognition, as he struggled to regain full consciousness.
The world around him blurred, shifting between golden light and encroaching darkness. A single name clawed its way to the front of his mind—Ronni. His breath hitched as he struggled to move his lips, the weight of exhaustion pressing down on him.
"Ronni…" he rasped, his voice barely audible over the lingering hum of energy in the air. His fingers twitched weakly, grasping at Bella's armored forearm. "Where… is she?"
Bella frowned, tilting her head. "Who?" There was no recognition in her voice.
He found himself lying face up in the arms of what seemed to be the most beautiful woman he ever laid eyes on. Shelooking like a caramel-skinned goddess in a humanoid form. She resembles images of ancient Egyptians that he had read about in high school.
Bella responded, "Who?"
She was tall, long and regal, clad in an intricate golden and obsidian battle armor adorned with glowing hieroglyphs. Her long black hair framed her face, and her headdress—a fusion of a pharaoh's crown and advanced alien technology—radiated ethereal gold energy. Her piercing emerald eyes exude wisdom, beauty, and power, while her flowing black cape, embroidered with celestial symbols, billows behind her. In her right hand she held a majestic energy-infused khopesh sword.
John was speechless and gasping to find words. "What is your name? And what lineage are you from?" Bella asked John in a smooth and calm voice as her royal guards surrounded them.
John was still searching for words when a loud panicked voice shouted through the flickering but still active Maux Prime Nexus: "Our Connection has been sabotaged, and Aaron is nowhere to be found.. Bella, what is your status?"
Bella responded, "Amani, we…" but before she could finish, the connection severed abruptly. "…are ok." she finished softly, after the feed died.
Then, without warning, John's body jerked. A violent spasm ripped through him, his limbs convulsing as though an unseen force was tearing him apart from the inside. Bolts of golden energy crackled across his skin, forming shifting patterns that burned and pulsed like living circuits.
His back arched off the ground as a strangled cry escaped his lips. His muscles clenched, his fingers curling into claws as his veins pulsed with an unnatural glow. Bella barely had time to react before a wave of energy pulsed outward, momentarily causing the royal guards to stagger back.
"NOW!" Bella roared, snapping her gaze to the guards. "Get him to the rejuvenation chamber—immediately! He's going into Prime Shock!"
"If we don't stabilize him now, he's dead," Bella hissed, grabbing the nearest guard by the arm. "You all know what happens when a Prime flames out after their first exposure."
A hush fell over the battlefield, the weight of Bella's words pressing down like a suffocating force. Even the distant rumble of the retreating Torox ships seemed to fade. The air itself felt heavier, as if the world had paused to watch what would happen next.
The guards hesitated, their gazes darting between each other, the unspoken dread plain in their eyes. They had heard the stories—everyone had. Primes were powerful, but unstable. And when one lost control…
Bella clenched her jaw. Not here. Not now.
"Move!" she barked, her voice cutting through the eerie quiet like a blade. The guards sprang into action, lifting John's spasming body with as much care as urgency would allow, his skin still crackling with golden sparks that writhed like living energy.
Above them, the remnants of the Maux Prime Nexus flickered erratically, arcs of unstable power weaving chaotically through the air. Bella's emerald eyes narrowed. Something is wrong. The Nexus was destabilizing, its glow shifting, pulsing—watching.
A cold knot twisted in her stomach.
She had read about this. She had seen this before. The last time a Prime had flamed out, their uncontrolled power nearly folded an allied world into oblivion. The Amadonnian Realm had teetered on the brink of annihilation– entire star systems blinking out in an instant, reduced to cosmic dust.
Her fingers tightened around the hilt of her khopesh, her pulse hammering in her ears. If John's body failed to stabilize—if they lost control for even a moment—this battlefield, this world, everything could be erased.
She forced the thought away and turned sharply to the guards. "Get him to the rejuvenation chamber—now!"
The ground trembled beneath her as the Nexus sputtered again, its unstable light casting eerie shadows across the ruins of war.
And then—a whisper.
Faint. Distant. Yet everywhere.
"It has already begun."
Bella's breath hitched. Her grip on her blade tightened.
The Nexus wasn't just failing.
It was reacting to something else.
Something waking.
Something coming.
And if they didn't move fast enough—nothing would survive.