My Talent's Name Is Generator

Knight and I stood just outside my house on Abor, the sound of the ocean steady in the background as the waves rolled in and out under the dim light. The air was calm, almost peaceful but the content of our conversation was not.

I had already explained everything to him. Knight remained still for a moment, thinking it through.

”But won’t that weaken the Ferans even further if we do this?” he asked.

I kept my gaze on the horizon.

”Yes, it will,” I replied without hesitation. ”But that’s fine, don’t you think?”

The wind brushed past us as I continued.

”The rifts are gone. The immediate threat is gone. We don’t need them to stay strong anymore. What we need is stability.”

I turned slightly, looking at him now.

”I don’t want problems from them when we are not around. So here’s what you’ll do,” I said, my tone steady. ”You’ll remove the problem at its root. Go to the Ranthor clan,” I continued. ”Eliminate their Transcendents.”

”After that,” I added, ”visit the Sharka general. And make it very clear to him... what happens if he even thinks about conspiring against us.”

Knight nodded once.

”Sounds like a... cutting-edge solution,” he muttered as his bladed tail cut through the air and then with a burst of darkness he was gone.

I remained standing there for a while after Knight left, the space around me turning quiet once again. Once the Ferans were dealt with there would be only one thing left.

The galaxy core. A faint breath left me as I thought about it. After that... I would finally be free to enter the Crimson Zone and complete the last requirement, strengthening my soul to the level needed for what was coming next.

But the Crimson Zone was still an unknown. And I did not like stepping into something without preparation.

That was why I was doing all of this now. If I was going to be gone for any amount of time, then everything behind me needed to be stable. No hidden threats waiting to rise the moment I stepped away.

And right now the biggest internal threat was clear.

The Ferans.

And beyond them...the Griffon Saint who still hadn’t shown himself.

I exhaled slowly, and turned around before walking back into the house.

North wasn’t there.

She had gone with Aurora to one of the planets, pushing herself through battle after battle, trying to raise her level as much as possible in the shortest time. Knowing her, she wouldn’t slow down until she hit her target.

*******

[Somewhere in the Prime Galaxy a meeting of the highest level was taking place]

In a vast hall eleven projections flickered into existence around a vast circular table carved from a material that seemed to exist and then not exist at the same time. Each figure carried an unmistakable aura despite being just projections. None of them were humans. Scales shimmered like living constellations on one, another appeared as a silhouette filled with drifting embers, while a third was nothing more than a shifting outline of darkness.

The meeting had been going on for quite some time. One of them began speaking.

”Moving to the next report we have is from Blue Spiral Galaxy.”

”Blue Spiral?” another being asked. ”Isn’t that the middle galaxy led by the Naga Matriarch Layla?”

The first speaker inclined their head slightly.

”Yes. That galaxy.”

”The report confirms that all Grade 3 rifts within the Blue Spiral Galaxy have been closed. Both of them. In addition, every known Grade 4 rift has been eliminated. At this moment, active operations are underway across all remaining zones, targeting nests of abominations and phantom clusters. At the current rate, projections indicate that the galaxy will soon be entirely free of Eternal presence.”

For a brief moment, the hall lost its composure. A ripple of reactions moved across the projections, overlapping voices, sharp shifts in posture, and subtle flares of aura betraying genuine surprise.

”Did the Matriarch make a breakthrough?”

The question cut through the noise, and attention returned to the one delivering the report.

”No,” they replied, their voice unchanged. ”The Matriarch is not responsible for this.”

”There is a new force operating within the Blue Spiral Galaxy. They call themselves the Order of Absolute. Their leader is a Saint, and they are accompanied by six additional Saints. Their emergence allowed them to strike with overwhelming force, catching the Eternal presence unprepared and dismantling it in a single, continuous campaign.”

As the words settled, the speaker raised a hand.

The space above the center of the table distorted, then unfolded into a projection. Figures appeared one by one, forming a silent lineup. At the center stood a man with a charming smile on his face. Around him were six others, each distinct, each carrying a different aspect of power.

”Seven Saints... in a mid-level galaxy,” another being said slowly, their voice carrying surprise. ”When did such a force come into existence, and how have we not heard of this individual?”

”They have risen very recently,” the first speaker answered. ”Our agents have already begun gathering information. Full intelligence will follow soon.”

Another voice joined, sharper, more analytical.

”What is their merit rank?”

The answer came without delay.

”The leader is ranked 1214 and holds the title Prime Monarch.”

A faint stir moved through the projections again.

”And the others?”

”They are not present on the merit list.”

That drew attention.

”Not present?” one of them repeated. ”Explain.”

”The system has classified the relevant data,” the speaker replied. ”All attempts to access further details have been denied.”

That, more than anything else so far, shifted the atmosphere.

”Classified by the system itself...” a crystalline figure murmured, light fracturing along its surface. ”That is not a common occurrence.”

”Something is moving beyond our awareness,” another added. ”If the system is obscuring it, then it is not something trivial.”

A brief silence followed as each of them processed the implication in their own way. Then, almost as an afterthought, the first speaker continued.

”They have also eliminated Hollow Star within their galaxy.”

This time, the reaction was sharper.

”That is not possible.”

”Hollow Star does not fall to a newly risen force.”

”Even we required—”

”We have no confirmed information on the method used,” the speaker interrupted calmly.

That answer did little to ease the tension. If anything, it deepened it. For the first time since the meeting began, the projections seemed less like observers and more like participants in something unfolding beyond their control.

”That settles it,” one of them said at last, their voice firm, cutting through the lingering uncertainty. ”This is not a variable we can afford to ignore.”

A few nods followed, subtle but decisive.

”We should establish direct contact.”

”Yes. Observation is no longer sufficient.”

”Agreed.”

The first speaker allowed the consensus to form before speaking again.

”That is precisely my recommendation. We extend a formal invitation to their leader and bring him before the Council. A discussion is necessary.”

There was no opposition.

”Then it is decided,” the speaker concluded.

The projection at the center flickered once more, Billion Ironhart’s image holding steady for a brief second longer than the others.

”We will send an envoy,” the speaker said. ”And invite Lord Billion to the Council.”