The battlefield trembled as Zaidon's monstrous form loomed over them once
more. His crimson energy pulsed violently, distorting the very air around him. His voice,
now guttural and laced with fury, echoed through the war-torn landscape. "You thought
you had defeated me? You fools have only witnessed a fraction of my true power!" Tatu
narrowed his golden eyes, his shimmering wings emitting an ethereal hum. Zaiyal took a
deep breath, his white hair fluttering in the violent winds stirred by Zaidon's awakening.
The two warriors exchanged a glance, an unspoken understanding passing between them.
They had to end this once and for all. Down below, Talus watched in disbelief.
"Impossible... Even after taking that attack head-on, he still lives?" His fists clenched,
his body trembling with frustration and awe.
Lord Nyalthrotep chuckled darkly. "Did you really think it would be that easy?
Zaidon has transcended mortality itself. His very existence is bound to forces beyond
your comprehension. This battle is far from over." Meanwhile, high above on the
mothership, Narcis and his team fought through relentless waves of mechanical sentries.
Sun Wukong's staff swung in a blur, smashing through steel and circuitry with ease.
Ungar cleaved through the machines with brute force, while Erlang Shen's third eye
continued guiding them toward their destination.
"This ship is trying to stop us," Narcis muttered, slicing through a mechanical drone. "It's
aware of our presence. It knows we're after the core." Erlang Shen frowned. "Then we
must move quickly. The longer we delay, the more resistance we will face." Just as he
spoke, the ship's corridors shifted once more. The walls pulsed, and suddenly, a new
adversary emerged. A towering automaton, its form a perfect fusion of machine and
organic horror, blocked their path. Its red eyes burned with malevolent intelligence, its
armored frame nearly indestructible. Sun Wukong smirked. "Now that looks like a
challenge." Back on the battlefield, Zaidon launched a devastating barrage of energy
blasts, each one carving deep craters into the already scarred land. Tatu and Zaiyal
dodged and countered, their movements in perfect synchronization. Zaiyal vanished like
a phantom, striking Zaidon from multiple angles while Tatu unleashed golden waves of
celestial energy. Zaidon roared, unfazed by their efforts. His body continued to mutate,
growing even more grotesque as he absorbed the dark energy around him. "You cannot kill a god!" Tatu's golden aura flared.
"Then we'll just have to prove you wrong."
Summoning every ounce of power within him, Tatu ascended higher, his form glowing
like a second sun. The battlefield below was illuminated in radiant gold as he began to
chant an ancient incantation. The heavens responded—clouds swirled violently, and
celestial symbols burned into the sky.
Zaiyal, recognizing the technique, called out, "Tatu, what are you—?" "Ending this."
Tatu's voice was calm, but resolute. His golden eyes locked onto Zaidon, and in an
instant, his form split into multiple afterimages, each radiating blinding energy. Zaidon
recoiled. "What trickery is this?!" Tatu's voices echoed in unison, "The Final
Ascension—Golden Nirvana Strike." With one last surge, the afterimages converged,
striking Zaidon with divine force. The battlefield erupted in a burst of golden light,
shaking the heavens and the earth alike. As the dust settled, Zaiyal stood ready, his aura
still burning. But as the golden light faded, silence fell over the battlefield. Had they
finally won? Above, on the mothership, Narcis and his team prepared for the fight of
their lives. The automaton before them moved with unnatural grace, its mechanical joints
twisting in impossible ways. Its voice, deep and resonant, echoed through the corridor.
"You will not reach the core." Narcis raised his weapon. "We'll see about that." As
the battle in the sky and the war on the ground raged on, fate itself seemed to hold its
breath.
Back on the battlefield Talus, Zaiyal, and Tatu lead the others in the fight against
Emperor Zaidon to little effect. Qayyim was shaken, she was surprised by something.
Nova looked over at his daughter and said, "What's wrong." Qayyim replied by saying:
"I was only a child but Zaidon was not supposed to be nearly this powerful in my time,
and even then he killed Sir Rhyme and Guan-Fu. I can't let this go on. I have to do
something." Qayyim unsheathed her sword. In the air above Zaidon began to laugh as he
unleashed a wave of energy that launched everyone backwards. After this Zaidon began
to howl with laughter, "I've grown tired of your nonsense." In the air above Zaidon
looked over at the mothership which began to explode, he saw in the distance: Narcis,
Ungar, Oghuz,Sun Wukong and Erlang Shen fly out from the wreckage of the ship to
safety. This angered Zaidon who's eyes began to glow red. "I have heard enough. Your
planet is history. Zaidon grew larger, now being at least 15 feet tall and very wide. "Say
goodbye to your precious planet." Zaidon unleashed a volley of energy but Qayyim was
ready; she launched herself into the air, sword in hand. She thought to herself: "I've been
training for 15 years, this monster is nothing to me, I'll end this blowhard right here, right
now." Zaidon unleashed his attack, which was quickly blocked by Tatu who sent into the
heavens. This irritated Zaidon but before he could charge up another attack to destroy the
planet he saw Qayyim ascending upwards. Zaidon shot a blast directly at her but she
quickly parried it with her sword. "I'm finished with you. Your reign of terror ends here
you monster!" Zaidon howled back, "I'll block it woman!" In a flash it was over, Qayyim
had cut through his chest. There was a large hole in the center of his chest and Zaidon
began to hack up blood. "So, they have won. It was worth coming here after all. I
experienced the battle of a lifeti..." Zaidon's corpse exploded, knocking Qayyim towards
the ground. Qayyim for her part was caught by Zaiyal in midair. The rest of the allies
began taking out the other alien soldiers who began to break and run as soon as they saw
the death of their leader. Zaiyal landed on the planet with Qayyim in his arms. Tatu and
Talus landed beside him. Cthulhu, Nova, Sun Wukong, Erlang Shen, Narcis Oghuz and
Ungar landed on the ground in the same place. They all began to congratulate each other
until Talus shouted, "QAYYIM! How long have you had that much power!! Explain
yourself now!!" Zaiyal smirked, "I see what's going on. The pride of the great Zaiyal of
the Demon clan has been wounded." Zaiyal began to blush, "I have no such thing. You
shut your mouth!" Zaiyal laughed, "Why should I, we all know I'm stronger than you."
Talus shouted back, "I SAID SHUT YOUR MOUTH!"
The battlefield remained eerily silent, the golden light of Qayyim's ultimate attack
slowly fading into the encroaching twilight. The winds carried the faint metallic tang of
blood and energy residue, a testament to the chaos that had unfolded moments earlier. As
Zaiyal gently placed Qayyim on her feet, the group of warriors gathered, their
expressions a mixture of exhaustion and triumph. Zaidon's massive form lay scattered
across the battlefield, remnants of his once-imposing presence reduced to lifeless ash and
fragments of charred bone. The dark aura that had loomed over the planet seemed to
dissipate, the air lighter, the ground no longer trembling. Yet, for all their efforts, no one
dared let their guard down. "Is it truly over?" Nova asked, his eyes scanning the horizon
with suspicion. He clutched his pocket, ready for any lingering threat. "It has to be,"
Talus muttered, though his fists were still clenched. His gaze flicked toward Qayyim, a
mixture of awe and confusion etched on his face. "But how... Qayyim, that
power—where did it come from?"
Qayyim sheathed her glowing sword, its once-blinding light now dimmed. Her
chest rose and fell heavily as she caught her breath. "This... wasn't just about power," she
said, her voice steady but firm. "I've spent years preparing for this moment. Zaidon was
always a threat, even in my time, but I knew I'd face him sooner or later, I was sure all of
you could defeat him quickly, but honestly somehow he was stronger than my father said
he was in my timeline." Talus's brow furrowed. "In your time? You're saying you knew
he may be this strong?" "Yes," Qayyim admitted. "And it's why I trained relentlessly. But
even with all my preparation, I didn't anticipate him being this strong. He had evolved far
beyond what my father and husband faced when I was only a child." Her eyes softened, a
flicker of regret crossing her face. "I couldn't stop him then. I wasn't old enough or
strong enough. I had to make sure history didn't repeat itself. That no one died this time,
as two had fallen in battle [Sir Rhyme and Guan-Fu]." Sir Rhyme the anthromorphic
bear stepped forward, "I see, that explains how you had heard of me, but you had never
met me before, you were a child when I was laid low." Tatu stepped forward, placing a
reassuring hand on her shoulder. "You did more than that. You gave us a fighting
chance." Zaiyal grinned, his sharp teeth glinting in the dim light. "You should've seen the
look on his face. That overgrown bag of energy didn't stand a chance." He folded his
arms, casting a sidelong glance at Qayyim. "But I have to admit, you're stronger than I
gave you credit for." "Enough," Talus barked, still visibly tense. "Qayyim, you've been
holding back this entire time. You're clearly more powerful than any of us realized. Why
didn't you tell us?" Zaiyal stepped in, "You allowed Lucifer to kill Daniel and Sarai
because you held back in our battle with him, you have no right to attack her. At Least
she finished the job. Archangel Michael had to step in when you refused to finish him off
and took it seriously. So shut your damn mouth."
Before she could answer herself, a booming voice echoed across the field,
interrupting their conversation. "This victory was hard-earned, but it's only the
beginning." Everyone turned to see Lord Nyalthrotep, his dark, regal form stepping
through the fading mist. His otherworldly presence sent a shiver down their spines,
though his expression was oddly calm. "Do not celebrate too soon. Zaidon's death was a
necessity, but his influence extended far beyond this battlefield."
"What are you saying?" Tatu demanded, his golden aura still faintly visible as he
prepared for another fight. Nyalthrotep raised a hand. "Calm yourself, warrior. The
energies Zaidon wielded were drawn from an ancient source, one that still pulses with
life. His destruction will only awaken greater threats if we do not act swiftly." Ungar
nodded, "The Prophet, she has everything to do with this, I'm going to confront her
tomorrow. She deserves to know everything, I'm sure the girl is deeply confused." The
group exchanged uneasy glances, the weight of Nyalthrotep's words settling over them.
High above, the remnants of the mothership still smoldered in the sky, a grim reminder of
the battles they had yet to fight.
"More threats?" Sun Wukong spun his staff idly, his tone half-joking but laced with
genuine concern. "This guy didn't exactly go down easily. How much worse could it
get?" Nyalthrotep's expression darkened. "Far worse, I feel a force in the outer parts of
this galaxy that fits the description, there is a force gathering that plans to overthrow the
Federation and beyond that, much more."
ARC II: THE DUST OF THE PROPHET: THE CHOSEN
ONE - A 200 year journey.
The sun bathed Xelios University in a golden glow, its shimmering glass towers
gleaming like monuments of intellect and ambition. But today, that glow wasn't enough
to keep Elena, Hermes, Mira, and Cassie in their seats. The usual hum of lectures and
lab experiments didn't call to them as it usually did. Instead, they exchanged knowing
glances, grabbed their bags, and slipped away from campus unnoticed. Their destination?
The Atrium Mall—a futuristic marvel that seemed plucked straight from the pages of a
utopian dream. The girls arrived to find the mall buzzing with life. Its gleaming white
floors stretched out endlessly, reflecting a kaleidoscope of vibrant lights from the
towering holographic displays that adorned every corner. Waterfalls of crystal-clear water
cascaded down glass walls, while floating platforms carried visitors effortlessly to upper
levels. Everywhere, drones zipped by, delivering freshly brewed coffee or picking up
shopping bags for busy patrons.
"Forget class; this is where we should be studying architecture," Mira said,
twirling under a canopy of holographic cherry blossoms that scattered glowing petals in
her wake. Elena laughed, adjusting her oversized sunglasses as they walked through a
corridor filled with pop-up boutiques. "Yeah, studying how to max out my credit limit.
This place is dangerous." Cassie, always the practical one, pointed to a robotic concierge
stationed near an interactive map display. Its glowing face flickered into a friendly smile
as it spoke. "Welcome to the Atrium. How can I assist you today?" "Show us the best
dessert spots," Cassie said with a grin. "Certainly," the robot replied, displaying a map
with a glowing trail. "May I recommend Aurora Sweets on Level 3? Their quantum berry
parfait is highly rated." "Quantum berry parfait?" Mira gasped. "Okay, we're officially
living in the future." The girls followed the trail to Aurora Sweets, where glass cases
displayed desserts that looked more like works of art. Each confection seemed to
shimmer with its own light, as if they'd been plucked from the stars themselves. They
ordered three parfaits, each topped with swirling, luminous berries that danced on their
spoons.
"This is what perfection tastes like," Elena said between bites, her eyes sparkling.
Cassie nodded, her gaze drifting to the massive skylight above them. "You know," she
mused, "days like this make me wonder why we work so hard. Life should always feel
like this—beautiful, carefree, and full of magic." "True," Mira said, raising her spoon like
a toast. "To ditch class and chase moments that are absolutely sublime." As they sat there,
laughing and savoring every bite, the mall around them hummed with its own kind of
life—a place where technology and beauty merged seamlessly. For a few hours, the
pressures of Xelios University felt like a distant memory, and the future seemed as bright
as the world around them. For her part Hermes was just as active in the conversation, she
went to use the restroom and after leaving as she began to head back a large hulking
figure who landed behind her this figure was Ungar. He startled her by saying, "Hello,
Hermes." Hermes turned around, fell to the ground and gasped turning white and asked
who are you? The figure was a towering figure dressed in nothing but dark grey armor
and a black cape with metal horns with his entire face being covered and piercing red
eyes. Ungar told Hermes, Hermes a young elf girl with a white pony tail and blue eyes,
"My name is Ungar, and I know who you are you're Hermes, you're someone who has a
place in the history of cosmic providence." At first Hermes didn't believe him, but Ungar
went on to say only things that she would know, like the fact that she was originally from
Earth, that she was a human man before being reincarnated into this world, about the
visions she had experienced and everything else. Something that deeply perplexed her. As
Hermes stared at the imposing figure of Ungar, her heart pounded like a drum. His red
eyes glowed ominously behind his dark helmet, yet there was no malice in his
voice—only an unshakable certainty. Her breath caught as his words replayed in her
mind. How could he know? How could anyone know about her dreams, her past life, the
truth she had tried so hard to ignore?
"I... don't know what you're talking about," she stammered, trying to steady
herself as she rose to her feet. But her trembling voice betrayed her uncertainty. Ungar's
voice was steady, unyielding. "You know exactly what I'm talking about, Hermes.
You've felt it, haven't you? That pull deep inside, the fragments of a life you lived before
this one. The whispers of a destiny far greater than anything you've imagined." Hermes
shook her head, backing away. "No. That's impossible. I'm just... I'm just a student at
Xelios. That's all. Nothing special." Ungar stepped closer, his towering presence casting a
long shadow over her. "You are far more than that. You're a Prophet born anew, a voice
from the world beyond and the world unseen. After all, you appeared on the battlefield,
and saved our ally Talus from certain death [as Ungar said this the image of her defeating
the wolf creature and saving Talus flooded her mind] The Dust of the Prophet flows
through your veins—a remnant of the celestial powers that shaped this world. Your
visions, your reincarnation, your very existence—it's all tied to a greater purpose."
Hermes froze. Those words—Dust of the Prophet—sent a shiver down her spine.
She had heard them before, not in this life, but in fragmented memories she couldn't
explain. Images of stars collapsing, voices calling her name, and a sense of weightless
drifting through eternity. She clenched her fists, trying to push it all away. "No," she
whispered. "I don't want any of this." Ungar's voice softened, though his imposing form
remained unmoving. "You may not want it, but it's already begun. The war against
Zaidon was only the first step. Greater threats are gathering, forces beyond the
comprehension of even the most ancient beings. And you, Hermes, are at the center of it
all." She stared at him, her mind racing. "Why me? Why would some... cosmic destiny
choose me? I didn't ask for this!" Ungar sighed, the weight of centuries seeming to echo
in his tone. "Few ever ask for the roles they're given, but that doesn't make them any less
vital. You've been reborn in this world for a reason. Whether you accept it or not, the fate
of countless lives rests on your shoulders." Before Hermes could respond, the sound of
footsteps approached from behind. Mira's voice called out, lighthearted and teasing.
"Hermes, what's taking you so long? Did you get lost in the—" Her words trailed off as
she rounded the corner and saw Ungar. "Who the hell is this?" Mira demanded,
immediately stepping protectively in front of Hermes. Her blue eyes narrowed as she
sized up the armored figure. "And what kind of creepy cosplay are you supposed to be?"
Ungar didn't flinch, his gaze locked on Hermes. "Your friends won't understand yet. But
they will, in time."
Hermes grabbed Mira's arm, pulling her back. "Let's just go," she said quickly.
"Forget this guy. He's... nothing." Ungar's voice followed them as they turned to leave.
"You can't run from what's inside you, Hermes. The Dust of the Prophet will awaken.
When it does, you'll need guidance. Seek me out before it's too late." Mira looked back,
her expression a mixture of suspicion and unease. "Hermes, who was that guy? And what
did he mean by 'Dust of the Prophet'? Are you in trouble?" Hermes forced a laugh,
though her hands were trembling. "Just some crazy guy trying to freak me out. Don't
worry about it."
Back at the compound Nova was working on his new AI Program with his
daughter Qayyim while the others relaxed nearby. "So, in the future I complete my AI
program?" asked Nova. "Yes, you create it and it seems to be very beneficial. Of course
there's no Prophet in my timeline or anyone who knows definitely if its for the best, and
the AI certainly has its critics. But nonetheless you complete roughly 10 years from now,
and it's nothing short of amazing." Nova felt pleased with himself, but perhaps he could
push it back from 10 years to 2 years he had to keep working. Ungar had just returned, he
paused a moment before he began to speak. "Well I just spoke to [the Prophet] and as
expected she doesn't seem interested, we'll give her a few weeks to adjust before we step
in, she honestly deserves to spend time with her friends and digest what I told her, but
there's something I have to say about her objectively..." Qayyim was interested, "and
what's that Ungar?" Ungar paused for what seemed like a minute and said, "Her latent
knowledge, it's like an ocean one can drown in." Everyone was deeply shocked by the
statement. But before anyone could react, Tatu burst in. "Guys it's time to unwind, I've
been dead for about 1,080 years and I more than anything want to spend time with the
people I've missed out for so long. Let's go to the fair in the city, there's a fair going on
in Imperial City Z-10, among the biggest on this part of Planet Helios. Let's go."
Everyone agreed to it, except Nova who had to be convinced by Qayyim. Shortly
afterwards, Talus laughed, "How foolish, wouldn't you rather train and grow stronger."
Tatu began to laugh, "As if I have to worry about being outpaced by you anytime soon,
you see how strong I am." Talus smirked, "That's what I like to hear. But know this when
you battle me you'll have to kill me."
As the festival lights of Imperial City Z-10 illuminated the streets, the group found
themselves momentarily free from the burdens of war and destiny. The air buzzed with
the scent of alien delicacies, laughter, and the hum of distant music blending with the
chatter of a diverse crowd. For the first time in what felt like eons, they were simply
people—not warriors, not saviors, not legends in the making. Qayyim wandered ahead,
her eyes scanning the vibrant displays of exotic weapons, trinkets, and technology. She
turned to Tatu, who walked beside her, sipping on a glowing drink from a floating vendor.
"So, what's it like? Coming back after a thousand years?" Tatu chuckled, his golden eyes
reflecting the flickering lanterns overhead. "Strange. Exciting. Like reading a book where
the last chapter was ripped out, and now I finally get to see how the story ends." He took
another sip and grinned. "Or maybe how the next volume begins." Behind them, Zaiyal
and Talus were locked in a competitive game of strength, each taking turns smashing a
mechanical pillar with their energy-infused fists. The growing crowd cheered as the
machine's meter shot higher with each hit. "I bet my next mission that I win," Zaiyal
boasted. Talus rolled his eyes. "If you're so confident, make it two." Zaiyal smirked.
"Done." The machine registered their final scores. Talus clenched his fists. "By the gods,
it's a tie!"
"Ha! You're as stubborn as ever," Zaiyal laughed.
Not far off, Ungar stood on the outskirts of the festivities, his piercing red eyes
scanning the city skyline. He wasn't one for celebration—not when so many shadows
still loomed just beyond the horizon. But as he watched Hermes laughing with her friends
at a dessert stand, he allowed himself a rare moment of stillness. She was still hesitant,
still unsure. But soon, she would understand. The Dust of the Prophet was stirring within
her. And when the time came, she would have to choose. Hermes for her part was
spending time with her friends in another part of the festival: the first of them was Hera a
frog woman with large breasts and piercing red eyes, then there was Agora a
middle-aged Elf woman who was very intelligent and the intellectual leader of the
homeroom, and finally Zora, another middle-age elf woman with turquoise hair who was
confident and stern. As they were enjoying their ice cream some men started to hit on
them in an aggressive way. Tashkent the little red demon who had been held up in the
compound for a considerably long time noticed it and pointed to his master Talus. Talus
for his part lunged forward, and in an instant knocked out these terrible thugs, sending
them packing. Instead of giving words of reassurance he quickly chastised Hermes and
her friends, "What the hell is wrong with all of you, and you [pointing to Hermes] where
is your father little girl?!" Hermes quietly said: "I don't have a father, sorry." Talus began
to laugh, "Oh really... well... wait a minute, you're that..." After a long pause Hera said,
"She's what?" Talus grunted, "Never mind! Just be more careful! A little bastard like you
should know better than to wander out without a parent protecting you." Zora for her part
shouted at him, "Now look you jerk! Why don't you mind your own business!" Talus
flew off, "Gladly." The other girls were angry but Hermes was shocked, what were the
chances she'd see that man again and so soon. Qayyim approached the girls, "Sorry that
was Talus, he's kind of a blowhard. I hope he didn't bother you too much."
Above them, beyond the neon glow of the city, the stars remained unchanged.
Silent watchers of history. And somewhere, in the depths of the universe, something
stirred. Something that had taken notice of Zaidon's fall. And it was coming.As the
festival continued, the energy of the city pulsed like a living thing, vibrant and
intoxicating. Yet, beneath the surface of the revelry, a tension hummed—an invisible
thread weaving through the night. Hermes stood apart from her friends for a moment,
watching the glowing lanterns drift into the sky. The weight of Talus' words clung to her,
stirring something unspoken deep inside. A little bastard like you... The phrase echoed in
her mind, scratching at wounds she had long ignored. "Hey," Mira's voice pulled her
back. "You okay?"
Hermes forced a grin. "Yeah, just... taking it all in." Mira didn't look convinced,
but before she could press further, the night continued with a sirene calm energy. The
next day Nova was passed out in his compound when he heard aggressive knocking at the
door. It got louder and louder, there was murmuring outside. When Nova opened the door
in his pajamas he was startled by an army of paparazzis. They asked where the heroes
are, can we speak to them? They saved the Earth from Emperor Zaidon, surely the
Emperor or King Jihad wants to reward them for their efforts and possibly make them
members of the Space Force. Perhaps the King of Helios will have the awards given to
them by the Princesses of the House of al-Jihad: wouldn't that be a sight. As this was
taking place: Ungar, Zaiyal, Talus, Tatu, Sir Rhyme, Qayyim, and everyone else etc.
descended and immediately the Paparazzi surrounded all of them, and they were on every
screen throughout the Qatari Empire. Nova shrugged his shoulders, "I guess we're
going to meet the King."
Within an hour everyone was on a plane heading towards the palace of the king.
The plane hummed with a steady rhythm as it cut through the upper atmosphere of Planet
Helios, its sleek metallic body reflecting the endless sky. Inside, the heroes sat in tense
anticipation. The gravity of their upcoming meeting with the King of Helios loomed over
them like an unspoken weight, yet the surrealness of their sudden fame still lingered in
their minds. Nova reclined in his seat, rubbing his temples. "One day, I'm working on AI
advancements. Next, I'm part of an intergalactic media storm. Tell me, when did our lives
turn into a galactic drama?" "Probably around the time we saved Earth from
annihilation," Qayyim teased, as he chuckled. "Come on, you should be proud. Not many
people get to be recognized by the House of al-Jihad." Sir Rhyme chuckled from across
the aisle, adjusting the silver clasps on his ornate ancient vest. "I think the real question
is, how do we make it through this meeting without offending the ruling parties?"
Ungar remained silent, his crimson eyes focused on the void outside. He knew
better than anyone that this was more than a simple recognition ceremony. The King's
interest wasn't idle. A shift in the galactic order had begun, and they stood at the center of
it. Talus who was sitting next to Tashkent was great irritated, "There's not enough food
here, I can't survive off of just crackers," he said as he stuffed his face.
Noah, seated near the back, tried to steady his nerves. His encounter with this
entire change in his life still haunted him on some level, and who was this new girl. The
Dust of the Prophet, the weight of destiny—these were things he wasn't ready to face. He
had overheard Ungar talking about it, but he thought he was the hero of this adventure,
after all after Archangel Michael HE was the one who played the biggest part in defeating
Lucifer.
"You look like you're about to be executed," Sarah joked, leaning in from the seat
beside him.
Noah forced a smirk. "Maybe I am."
"Pfft, relax," Sarah waved her hand dismissively. "What's the worst that could
happen? We get knighted, showered in gifts, maybe invited to some ridiculously
extravagant royal ball?"
Before Noah could reply, the intercom crackled to life. "We're approaching the
capital," the pilot announced. "Prepare for landing."
Below them, the sprawling metropolis of Helion Prime came into view, a
breathtaking fusion of ancient grandeur and cutting-edge technology. Like something
from a fantastical dream or at the gates of the Kingdom of God where St. Peter would
stand before and grant any of whom enter entry. Towering citadels of glass and steel
reached for the heavens, while floating gardens and cascading waterfalls dotted the
skyline. At the heart of it all stood the Royal Palace—an architectural masterpiece of
shimmering gold and intricate celestial engravings, its spires crowned with banners
bearing the sigil of the House of al-Jihad.
As the plane touched down on the palace's private airstrip, the heroes braced
themselves. The doors opened to reveal a sea of royal guards in obsidian armor, their
halberds gleaming under the twin suns. At the forefront stood a regal figure clad in
flowing robes of deep sapphire—a man whose very presence commanded reverence.
King Jihad, a being that was over 240,000,000 million years old.
He smiled, but his eyes held the weight of a ruler who had seen galaxies rise and fall.
"Welcome, heroes of Earth and Helios," he proclaimed, his voice resonating with power.
"You have done more than save a planet. You have altered the course of history. Now, let
us speak of what comes next."
As they stepped forward, the weight of destiny pressed against them. This was no mere
reward. This was the beginning of something far greater.
Something that would change the universe forever. The opening of the meeting
was held on television. Hermes' and her friends we're watching it. Hermes's friend Mira
said, "Wait Hermes, that's the weird cosplay creep, he's one of the heroes that saved the
world?!" Hermes was equally surprised, "there's that girl [Qayyim] and the guy who
called you a bastard [Talus], why are they here?" Mira looked at Hermes, "I wouldn't say
it otherwise but if these are the people who saved the planet maybe it wouldn't be the
worst thing to hear them out. It's insane they showed up to speak to you after all. Maybe
it might be worth your while." Hermes looked down nervously, she was miles away from
them but she could sense there essence. She had decided, maybe when they returned to
their compound she would confront these people, and ask what they knew about her and
her current situation. Meanwhile, far away from Hermes and her friends back at the
Imperial ceremony our heroes met the adopted daughters [Princesses] of the king, the
most prominent being; Alexa Jihad who was a woman who resembled a cross between a
lizard and a fish but incredibly human-like, Agora Jihad who was an elf woman with
white hair, and finally Beenice Jihad who was a human and was dark-skinned and
African in origin. Our heroes bowed before them. The King asked them to rise.
The grand hall of the palace was nothing short of celestial—a vast chamber
adorned with floating luminescent orbs, cascading light ribbons, and walls etched with
golden inscriptions that pulsed with an ancient, unspoken power. The sigil of the House
of al-Jihad was emblazoned on the domed ceiling, a brilliant starburst encircling a sword
and quill, symbolizing both wisdom and might. The air was thick with the scent of exotic
incense, a fragrance that seemed to whisper of forgotten legends and unfulfilled
prophecies. King Jihad stood at the apex of the room, his towering presence exuding an
aura of immeasurable power. His deep sapphire robes shimmered with an ethereal glow,
his ageless eyes scanning the gathered heroes. The three princesses—Alexa, Agora, and
Beenice—stood to his side, their expressions unreadable yet intense. The atmosphere was
electric, charged with the weight of what was about to be discussed. Ungar, ever the
warrior, was the first to break the silence. "Your Majesty, we stand before you not merely
as warriors who have defended Helios and Earth, but as those who seek to understand the
tides of fate that are shifting before us. There is more at play than mere political alliances
and planetary protection. The Dust of the Prophet has awakened, and the universe itself
trembles at its return." King Jihad's expression did not waver, but the chamber seemed to
darken slightly as he processed Ungar's words. "Yes," he said finally, his voice as steady
as a mountain, "the Dust stirs once more. And with its awakening, the celestial balance is
in jeopardy. Tell me, Ungar—have you spoken to the Prophet?"
Ungar nodded, his crimson eyes flickering. "I have, though she is not yet aware of
the full extent of her significance. She resists the truth, but the echoes of her past life
haunt her. The knowledge she holds within her is vast—an ocean of wisdom that could
either save or shatter this reality. But she will need time." "As tired as it is as an
expression, time is literally a luxury we may not have," Alexa Jihad interjected, her voice
a melodic yet commanding force. "The fall of Zaidon was only the beginning. Already,
our scouts report strange celestial disturbances. Entire sectors have gone silent.
Something is coming. It's as if entire provinces of the empire are going dark. We're not in
peril, we're in silence." Talus, leaning against a marble column, scoffed. "Of course
something is coming. Something always is. The real question is whether this 'Prophet' of
yours will be ready when it does. Because if not, we're all in for a hell of a fight. For my
part I'm not convinced, I can't believe all of you believe in such ridiculous fairy-tales."
Zaiyal began to grow frustrated, "what do you mean, as always you're acting like nothing
more than a scoundrel." Talus giggled, "Don't you see there is no God, and if there is he
is either dead or completely unattached from this world. Either way it's irrelevant the best
one can hope for is that the so-called Almighty has abandoned us. But regardless,
whether this Universe has a God or Not is irrelevant. It's a cold dark place, there's no
room for Heroes, Villains, Martyrs, Sages, Prophets, Revolutionaries, or anything else of
so-called value. This so-called "Prophet" is nothing more than a title. It's ridiculous how
little works cling to your futile need for meaning." Sun Wukong, worried by these
foreboding words, used his Golden Eyes that could see through all lies and deceptions
which he attained countless eons ago from being sealed in Lao-Tzu's 49 Trigram
Furnace. Sun Wukong didn't say a word but he saw it, a black caterpillar inside of Talus's
soul making his thoughts even blacker than they were before. Sun Wukong closed his
eyes and saw Talus's fate, he saw that Talus almost died and he was saved by someone
the image was hazy and unclear who it was, it looked as if Talus was saved from himself,
trying to sacrifice his life for others. Sun Wukong disliked interfering with fate and he
refused this time. But he needed to speak to Talus about what had been revealed to him.
A murmur rippled through the room, some of the gathered nobles exchanging
worried glances. King Jihad regarded Talus with a knowing smile. "You speak with the
wisdom of a warrior who has seen the tides of battle. And yet, even you must
acknowledge that this is no ordinary war brewing on the horizon. This is something
beyond mortal comprehension." Nova, always the scientist, adjusted his glasses and
finally spoke. "We need data. Facts. We've been reacting to events as they happen, but we
need to get ahead of this. If the Dust of the Prophet is as powerful as you claim, then we
need to understand it. Harness it. Control it before it controls us." Qayyim, standing
beside her father, placed a hand on his shoulder. "And we need to protect her," she added
softly. "Hermes may not understand her role yet, but she's caught in this whether she
likes it or not. If we don't guide her, someone else will. And that someone might not have
the best intentions." King Jihad nodded solemnly. "Then it is decided. We must
prepare—for war, for change, for the unknown. The Prophet must be brought into the
fold. We will extend our hand, but she must take it willingly. No force, no coercion. The
path she chooses will shape the fate of us all." As the meeting concluded, the heroes
exchanged glances, understanding that their journey had only just begun. Meanwhile,
miles away, Hermes sat in her dormitory at Xelios University, staring at the glowing
holographic projection of the royal proceedings. Her fingers trembled as she replayed the
words over and over in her mind. The Dust of the Prophet. The fate of all. She swallowed
hard. It was time to confront them. Time to demand the truth. Because whether she liked
it or not, the universe had already chosen her.
THREE - Echoes of the Abyss:
The holographic projection flickered out, she could use her auric abilities to hear
what they were saying despite the ceremony being muted after a certain point, the blank
screen left Hermes alone in the dim glow of her dormitory. The words Dust of the
Prophet pulsed in her mind like a second heartbeat. She stared at her reflection in the
darkened screen—her elven features, the white ponytail that felt less like a choice and
more like a relic of a life she couldn't remember [this girl character had a change in
something because she has bangs]. Her hands trembled as she packed a small bag: a
comms device, a stun-pistol borrowed from the university's engineering lab, and a
crumpled photo of her friends laughing at the Atrium Mall. A life that already feels like
someone else's. Back at the palace, the meeting dissolved into murmured strategizing.
Ungar lingered near the towering arched windows, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon
where the twin suns dipped toward the edge of Helion Prime. The King's words hung
heavy in the air—the Prophet must be brought into the fold. But Ungar knew better than
to rush fate. Prophets, even unwilling ones, had a way of colliding with destiny on their
own terms. Across the hall, Talus leaned against a pillar, gnawing on a skewer of roasted
alien fowl he'd swiped from a passing servant. Sun Wukong sidled up to him, his golden
eyes narrowed. "You've got a parasite," the Monkey King said casually, plucking a grape
from a nearby fruit bowl. Talus froze mid-bite. "Excuse me?"
"In your soul. A little black caterpillar. Nasty thing. Makes you angrier. More...
dramatic." Sun Wukong popped the grape into his mouth. "Old Monkey has seen a
number of those among the gods, might want to get that looked at." Talus snorted.
"You're as mad as the rest of them." But his grip tightened on the skewer. Later that day
after everyone had returned to the compound back from the visit to the palace, Hermes
arrived at the heroes' compound under the cover of night. The building was a fortress
disguised as a sleek, modern estate—glowing barriers humming at the perimeter, drones
patrolling the skies. She'd expected guards, alarms, something. Instead, the front gate slid
open silently as she approached, as if the compound itself had been waiting for her.
Qayyim met her in the atrium, her expression unreadable. "We wondered when you'd
come."
"Cut the cryptic shit," Hermes snapped, her voice sharper than she'd intended. "I
want answers. Real ones. Who am I? Why does Ungar talk about me like I'm some...
cosmic battery? And what the hell is the Dust of the Prophet?" Before Qayyim could
reply, Ungar's voice echoed from the shadows. "It's not a what. It's a when." He stepped
into the light, his armor dulled to a muted gray in the low glow. "The Dust is a remnant of
the first Qadian Prophets [a specific branch of Cosmic Prophets] of the last 100,000
Kalpas—...
"Wait a minute, just please, slow down, this is a lot to process," said Hermes,
"Kalpas? What are the Qadian Prophets?" Ungar sighed, "Qadian Prophets are Prophets
who descend from a deity named Qadia, Qadia was the goddess of the Fifth Sun of
Orion a planet that was home to ancient Harappan civilization a warrior race that
transcended the stars and ruled the universe with an iron fist, with divine favor of
course." Hermes took a deep breath, "Alright continue."
"The Qadian Prophets were originally Prophets of War and Messiahs that ruled
over the Harrappans as soon as they appeared but eventually became Prophets of peace.
They were beings who shaped reality itself in the case of some of them with powerful
magic. Fragments of their power linger in this cosmos, waiting to awaken in chosen
souls. Yours, it seems, is one of them." Hermes crossed her arms. "So I'm a recycled
demigod? Great. How do I give it back?" Ungar's crimson eyes softened. "You can't. But
you can learn to wield it. The visions you've had—the memories of your past
life—they're not random. They're guideposts. The Dust is trying to show you what's
coming. And there's more. Hermes perhaps you've heard of the Gate-Keepers, Zaiyal
apparently is the last of them." Hermes quietly said, "Gate Keepers?"
Ungar said, "The GateKeepers are who protected the world of light ensuring that it
was not conquered by the world of darkness. They have existed for about 100,000,000
million years, the first appeared shortly after the death of the last of the Qadian
Prophets [before Talib] a man named Elvatorr he died about 100,000,000 million years
ago. This Prophet had 12 main Disciples or Companions, one of them was chosen to be
the Gatekeeper; he was the first Gate Keeper, in those 100,000 Kalpas or 100,000,000
million years since the death of that Prophet there have been 520,000,000 million
GateKeepers within that period of 100,000,000 million years, some of them living very
long lives, some of them had extremely short lives. The GateKeepers are the
reincarnations of that same disciple of Prophet Elvattor who was chosen 100,000,000
million years ago, the lone exception being Zaiyal, who was chosen by Daniel to be the
last himself, a move that was and is unprecedented, as the last Gate-Keeper lives and he
will continue the line until he passes, and then it will fade away."
Hermes replied: "Hold on, give me a minute, you have to understand that this is
quite a bit to process." After a few minutes, Hermes gestured for Ungar to continue.
Ungar: "Ironically the first not to be of the soul of that Disciple and the last in
totality. There were at that point 800,000 Prophets [of the Qadian line] that have existed
for eons in this Cosmos. Just 1,000 years ago one Prophet in this family of Prophets had
appeared in another sub-section of the Universe, his name was "the Prophet Talib," I
was there 1,000 years ago when I witnessed shortly before his death, his predicting your
coming. I didn't put it together then although I should have with my vast knowledge that
his coming ushered in the end of the era of the GateKeepers, which would make Zaiyal
the Seal of the GateKeepers, the second-to last being Daniel and thereby ending their
line forever. But I did not realize you would be the first important Prophet in no less than
20,000 Kalpas [of the last prior period of Qadian Prophets], which Prophet Talib
(May He Be Blessed and Sanctified by the Unseen) predicted. Additionally, if fate is
kind you will live to be no less than 200 years of age in an ever growing quest to spread
light throughout this world in your great wisdom. Moreover, the reason for your coming
is to stop what may be in store for us."
"And what's that?"
"The end of everything," Nova interjected, emerging from a corridor with a
holographic tablet in hand. Data streams flickered across its surface—star maps, energy
signatures, fragments of a language older than time. Ungar interrupted him: "The same
force that destroyed Zaidon's mind saw it on his mother-ship, and it is coming here. What
this thing is I'm not sure, but it was predicted by only two Prophets of this chain,
Prophet Elvatorr and Prophet Talib the last two before you Hermes."
Hermes fell back into her chair trying to take in everything she had just heard.
Hundreds of millions of light years above Helios, in the cold vacuum between stars, the
silence shattered. A rift tore open—a jagged wound in reality—and from it poured a
swarm of crystalline entities, their forms shifting between solid and spectral. They moved
with purpose, draining the light from nearby stars as they advanced.
The first planet in their path was a minor agricultural colony, its inhabitants
unaware as the sky darkened. By morning, it was gone. Not destroyed. Erased.