The central golden spire of the Providence Hub, once the untouchable symbol of the Ethereal Providence Sect's dominion, was now a hollow graveyard.
Deep within the subterranean administrative levels of the spire, two figures moved quietly through the darkened halls.
Chris stood before a terminal. His multiple hands moved in a blurring frenzy, injecting threads of his mana into the mainframe of the Ethereal Providence Sect's central servers. Beside him, his companion Daisy kept a vigilant watch over the corridor, her senses expanded to ensure no surviving elders or opportunistic scavengers had ventured this deep into the ruins.
"Got it," Chris said, his six hands freezing as his eyes scanned the highlighted text. "This person has normally entered the hub, and the gatekeepers had registered his data."
Daisy stepped closer, peering at the glowing projection. "What name did he give?"
"He registered under the name 'Aeon'," Chris read aloud, his brow furrowing as he looked at the faction affiliation. "And he claimed to belong to an organization called the 'Origin Sect'."
"Origin Sect?" Daisy repeated the name. Her mind raced through the vast, encyclopedic knowledge she had memorized as an official disciple of the Heaven-Weaving Pavilion. She knew the names of every Great Sect, every Upper Major Sect, and countless hidden factions that had shaped the universe's history. But this name triggered no recognition. "There is no recorded Major or Great Sect by that name in our archives."
"I know," Chris agreed, his fingers swiping to pull up the public surveillance feeds from the Outer Commercial Continents. "And if we connect this entry log with the public information available over the past few days, a very clear picture begins to form."
Daisy stared at the information, her eyes widening in disbelief as she pieced the narrative together. "He... he came here for the slaves?"
"Exactly," Chris said, "He didn't come to conquer the Providence Hub or to steal their vast wealth. He came here playing the hero for a flock of winged livestock. He fought Navira to a standstill, escaped with the Elyrians, and then returned today when they tried to publicly execute the Elyrian Crown Prince. That minor rescue operation escalated into the total annihilation of a Lesser Major Sect."
To disciples of a Great Sect, the logic was entirely baffling. A being possessing such powers had risked a direct confrontation with an Anchor-stage sovereign purely for the sake of mortal attachments and moral outrage.
"We need to report this immediately," Daisy said, her expression turning dead serious.
Chris nodded. He withdrew his UNI-OS token and infused it with his mana, initiating a transmission.
A few seconds later, the air above the terminal rippled. A shimmering holographic projection stabilized in the center of the room.
Within the projection appeared the imposing figure of Master Milan. He was a tall, humanoid alien with radiant golden skin and eyes that seemed to hold the woven threads of countless destinies.
"Report," he commanded, "Have you succeeded in making a disturbance to attract the attention of Damian? Has he taken the bait?"
Chris and Daisy immediately dropped to one knee, bowing their heads respectfully.
"Master Milan," Chris began, keeping his gaze lowered. "We arrived at the Providence Hub to execute your orders, but... before we could even initiate our operation, the Hub was already destroyed by an unknown cultivator."
Milan's golden brows drew together in a faint frown. "Destroyed? By whom?"
"He goes by the name 'Aeon', Master," Daisy answered quickly. "He claims affiliation with an unrecorded faction known as the Origin Sect. The situation began as a localized conflict over enslaved Elyrians, but it escalated rapidly. For some reason, Damian had already sent his personal disciple, Androxus, who intervened in the final clash."
Milan's eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. He had expected Damian to dispatch Androxus once Chris and Daisy created a sufficiently large disturbance. What he had not expected was for that response to occur before his pawns even acted, drawn out by an unknown third party who had unknowingly sprung the trap for them.
"Explain this cultivator's strength," Milan ordered.
"Master, it is beyond anything we have ever witnessed," Chris reported, his voice tight with lingering fear. "He utilized an authority-plundering technique. With a single spoken word, he forcibly stripped Navira of her forty-five percent authority and erased hundreds of thousands of Rule Stage disciples in a microsecond. Furthermore..." Chris swallowed hard, "he was able to control two Prime Arcane Concepts. We clearly identified the Prime Arcane Concept of Null, which he commanded with a direct command, and later, when he grounded Androxus, he severed the spatial escape art using the Prime Arcane Concept of Severance."
Silence descended upon the holographic transmission.
Milan stood still, his golden eyes reflecting the impossible weight of the report. To seize authority broke the foundational laws of reality. And to wield two Prime Arcane Concepts was a feat that even Divine Stage sovereigns struggled to achieve.
Milan brought a hand to his chin, deep in contemplation. The cosmic board he had been trying to manipulate had suddenly been flipped over by a player who wasn't even supposed to exist.
"Authority plundering... and two Prime Arcane Concepts," Milan murmured. He looked through the projection at his kneeling disciples. "This 'Origin Sect' is not a mere drifter faction. This unknown person can only be the vanguard of a deeply hidden faction. A phantom power that has spent eras hoarding strength in the dark."
Milan lowered his hand, his golden skin shimmering as he looked past the projection, gazing into the vast, unseen currents of the universe.
"It seems hidden storms are brewing silently behind the watch of the Great Sects," Master Milan whispered. "Return to the Pavilion immediately. Bring every fragment of data you have recorded. We must prepare for the shifting tides."
…
Far away from the ruined Providence Hub, in the silence of an empty intergalactic void, a lone figure floated in the darkness.
Androxus grimaced as he pressed a hand tightly against his chest. The deep, diagonal wound carved by the Prime Arcane Concept of Severance continued to bleed a luminescent silver blood. The fundamental rules of his physical and illusory state had been severed, and no matter how much refined mana or vitality essence he poured into the injury, reality itself rejected the healing process.
Gritting his teeth against the searing pain, Androxus activated his spatial ring and retrieved his UNI-OS token.
He projected an encrypted visual link. A few moments later, the void illuminated as the projection of Damian materialized before him. The ancient Yiphraen ancestor sat cross-legged in his chamber.
"Report, Androxus," Damian commanded, his ancient eyes immediately locking onto the severe wound bleeding across his disciple's chest. "You are injured. Did Milan's pawn possess an artifact capable of bypassing your illusory state?"
"Master," Androxus began, bowing his head despite the agonizing pain. "The situation is far more severe than we anticipated. The one who caused the problem is not the pawn of Elder Milan as we thought. And the techniques he displayed... they entirely bypass the known laws of cultivation."
Androxus recounted the events of the Providence Hub. He detailed the annihilation of the Ethereal Providence Sect's army, the reality of the authority-plundering technique that had stripped Navira of her power, and the boy's command over the Prime Arcane Concepts of Null and Severance.
Damian listened to the report, and his ancient features grew increasingly grave. The irritation he had felt earlier over what he assumed was a petty proxy war evaporated entirely, replaced by a cold dread.
"Authority plundering..." Damian whispered, the sheer impossibility of the concept rattling his ancient mind. "If a hidden faction has developed a method to seize authority and copy willforce techniques, they threaten the very foundation of the Heavenly Order."
Damian closed his eyes for a brief second, making a rapid calculation.
"This bypasses my authority to manage," Damian stated, his voice ringing with absolute finality. "This is no longer a mere proxy dispute between myself and Milan. This matter can only be dealt with by the Sect Leader."
Androxus's silver eyes widened in genuine shock. He stared at the projection of his master, momentarily forgetting the pain in his chest. To disturb the Sect Leader of a Great Sect, a cosmic titan whose very gaze could dictate the fate of millions of galaxies, was an act reserved only for true, universe-ending crises.
"Master... is it truly that serious?" Androxus asked, his voice trembling slightly. "To disturb the Sect Leader for this?"
"Yes," Damian replied firmly, his ancient eyes locking onto Androxus. "The authority-plundering technique and his ability to wield two Prime Arcane Concepts are monumental, yes. They are worth reporting, but in isolation, they are not one hundred percent critical. But..."
Damian leaned forward in the projection, "...combined with his ability to copy willforce techniques on sight, it becomes an anomaly that the Sect Leader must know about."
The reminder of the copied willforce technique sent a cold shiver down Androxus's spine.
Willforce techniques were the ultimate, guarded inheritances of the Great Sects. They were the product of millions of years of mental refinement, passed down only to chosen successors, and woven within the invisible realm of consciousness. If a hidden faction possessed an operative capable of dissecting and replicating those ancestral structures from a single glance, it meant the Great Sects' greatest, most absolute advantage, their monopoly on the mastery of the mind, was entirely compromised.
Damian's gaze sharpened. "During the confrontation, did you notice anyone from the Heaven-Weaving Pavilion in the Hub? Do they possess information regarding this encounter?"
Androxus thought back to the moment he had unleashed his master's descending will. His Anchor-stage perception had swept over the millions of collapsing minds in the Outer Continents.
"I did notice a few subsidiary reporters acting under the banner of the Heaven-Weaving Pavilion Network," Androxus said carefully. "When I released your willforce, Master, I sensed those specific subsidiary reporters cast layered Willforce Walls to hold off the suppression. They managed to survive the initial wave."
Androxus paused, his brow furrowing as he analyzed the memory. "However, even though I didn't see them till the end, subsidiary operatives in a lesser galaxy's hub wouldn't even be at the Astral stage. For them to successfully deploy Willforce Walls... it is suspicious. I suspect they could be the actual pawns of Elder Milan's."
Damian pondered the information for a moment, his fingers tapping rhythmically against his knee.
"It is fine," Damian said, a dark, calculating glint returning to his eyes. "We still have the advantage."
Androxus looked up, slightly confused. "Advantage, Master?"
"Think about it," Damian explained, a grim smile touching his lips. "If those were Milan's spies, they undoubtedly saw the authority-plundering technique. They would have also seen the anomaly wield the Prime Arcane Concepts of Null and Severance. But... they do not know about the willforce technique copying he did."
Androxus's silver eyes brightened with sudden realization. He nodded slowly.
"You are correct, Master," Androxus agreed. "The willforce technique Navira used against him was your lineage's ancestral method. Neither you nor I have ever used that specific structure publicly in the wider universe. Even if Elder Milan's men watched the entire battle, they would just assume the boy was using his own faction's mental attacks. They wouldn't know it was actually copied. Only we have the intelligence from Navira, and only we know this horrifying truth."
"Exactly," Damian said, "This is the main, terrifying truth about that unknown cultivator and the hidden faction standing behind him. We hold the missing piece of the puzzle, and that gives our Great Sect the initiative."
Damian stood up within his chamber, his aura flaring as he prepared to break his long seclusion.
"Return to the sect immediately, Androxus," Damian ordered, preparing to cut the transmission. "Focus on stabilizing your Severance wound. I am going to report this to the Sect Leader."
With that, the holographic projection blinked out of existence, plunging the empty intergalactic void back into pitch-black silence.
Androxus floated alone in the dark for a moment, the implications of the conversation settling over him. The unrecorded variable named 'Aeon' had just drawn the gaze of the highest heavens, and the true cosmic war was only just beginning.